Feel My Pain (Curse Bound 1)

Did it matter?

Even if it did, what was he to do? Never beat his meat again?

Roach groaned and turned off the water. Maybe next time.

But now that thoughts of Zane twisting in the sheets embedded themselves in his mind as Roach toweled himself off, his cock was saying hello, and no amount of talking it down could change that. Then again, Zane’s attitude could bust anyone’s balls, so Roach wrapped the towel around his hips once he was sufficiently dry and stepped into the dusky room that smelled of Zane’s soap bars as if the bastard had used them to wash the sheets.

He spotted the hairy top of Zane’s head beyond the bed and was about to go straight for the closet when he realized the bastard was rummaging through one of his boxes.

Roach walked over there with frustration oozing off him but lost some of his speed halfway, when Zane looked up at him from above a stack of old porn mags Roach had been saving since his teenage years.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Anything you own might give me a hint for where that weird curse had come from. Even this,” Zane said, waving one of the publications in the air. A naked model with long blond hair watched Roach from the worn envelope, his fist tight around a long cock.

“Gimme that!” Roach held the towel with one hand, flushing despite being a grown man who would jerk off to porn mags if he felt like it. But when he tried to grab the mag, Zane pulled it out of reach.

“Why are you so shy? Who doesn’t want to look at some retro porn once in a while?” Zane asked, grinning at Roach as he rolled away.

“Cause what I jerk off to is none of your business!” To make matters worse, the long-haired guy in the pic was the reason Roach had saved that particular issue in the first place. Zane would see the connection and embarrass him further.

Using more force seemed unreasonable though, so Roach helplessly watched Zane stand and open the mag to the pages in the middle that featured prominently in Roach’s spank bank.

He shook his long mane back and pulled those perfect teeth over the fat bottom lip. Perfect? No, one of the front teeth had the slightest chip on the side, which made Zane look even hotter somehow.

Anger and anticipation created a buzzing concoction that went to both Roach’s heads as Zane showed him the centerfold. In the photo featured, the long-haired hottie who was oddly reminiscent of Zane had another guy bent over, his baton of a dick embedded halfway between the bottom’s cheeks.

It was embarrassing to have his privacy taken away like this, but Zane seeing this somehow only made Roach’s cock stiffen under the towel. He squeezed the fabric to make sure it didn’t fall.

“I think you’d love it to be my business,” Zane told him.

Why did this have to happen? He’d been perfectly unhappy in his not-really-out state with the addition of an occasional blowjob from Gale. He didn’t need to be confronted with all the other things he’d like to do with a man.

“And I think you should leave. I didn’t invite you here! Take your shit and get the fuck out.”

Zane’s lips were so cruel when they smiled, yet Roach couldn’t look away. This confrontation was lost before it began, because Zane knew Roach wouldn’t kick him out.

“I can see what you’re hiding under that towel,” Zane pointed out before placing the magazine on the bedside table to face Roach.

“Since when do you care? You told me to fuck off yesterday. It’s a normal human function, okay?” But on the inside, Roach was steaming. He’d have given anything for a fresh start with Zane. One in which he wasn’t brushed off like dirt, robbed and outed.

“And you asked me if I want to fuck just last night, and I can see you’re still needy for a do-over with my cock.” Zane spread his legs somewhat, drawing Roach’s gaze to a small tenting in his jeans.

Roach just stood there like a waste of space. He knew what he should do. Tell Zane to go to hell. Or tease him, be playful, say something along the lines of you’ve got to earn it. But playing hard to get was pointless when the other guy knew the extent of his lust.

His dick throbbed for attention.

“Changed your mind?” He tried to sound casual in case this was a trap.

Zane stepped over the other magazines, eyes locked on Roach’s. His gaze was like a storm about to break the sky open over Roach’s head, but which left him too mesmerized to save himself.

“It’s either me or the hooker, isn’t it? I like my dick with no warts on it,” Zane said as if it were something sexy.