“How’s it hangin’, DG?”
Ezra looks up at me, hair in his eyes, and he’s got the smirkiest smirk. There should be some prize for this, some competition. I, meanwhile, can hardly get my mouth to move. I swallow and manage a robotic, “Fine.”
I latch my eyes onto the battery and metal piece. “What’s that stuff?”
“Don’t know.”
I glance around the room, noticing every table has one. “So you just found it?” I ask.
“Yuup.” I can see his Adam’s apple bob along the column of his tanned throat. His eyes meet mine for just a second.
“Electric current,” he says. He’s looking down again, and I can’t help the way my gaze clings to his hands. They’re really nice hands. Almost elegant. He’s got big, brawler knuckles and these lean, long fingers. They look more like an artist’s rendering than something on a real person—and nothing like my own wide, mitten hands. I have the thought that my hand could probably cover his. Then Dr. Bumble comes into the room and I’m distracted by our project instructions.
Apparently, we’ll do some basic wiring and then assemble a tiny electric plug that will adjoin the battery to the metal bars in…some way. When we’re finished, a small, blue current will jump between the prongs.
“It will be a shock, but it won’t hurt you,” Bumble drones. “People like to stick their fingers to it, but that’s not required.” He gives a funny little smile, like teaching physics is the highlight of his life.
Then he walks around to every table, passing out wiring kits.
Ezra slides ours toward himself and opens the bag, setting the instruction leaflet out in front of him.
He looks for a moment at the paper and then gets to work, attaching the wires to the metal part. I watch his hands move, feeling like I’m in a daze. I guess I am, because when he’s finished, he knocks on the surface of the table.
I blink. My cheeks burn from knowing that he knows I zoned out watching.
“Want to hook it up?” he asks.
“The battery?”
He smirk-smiles. “Yeah.” He looks smug.
He nudges the metal pronged thing toward me with a fingertip, and I frown down at the battery. “I guess it snaps in…like a smoke alarm?”
I try to fit the battery into the snap, but… “One of them is bent? What the hell…”
“Here.” He takes the battery from my hand, and the little metal prong thing. He pushes the battery into the snap, then he hisses “fuck” and drops it on the tabletop with a clank.
He bows his head for a second, holding it with one hand. Then he lifts his face, and I see color flood into his cheeks as he looks around. A few people are staring our way, but Bumble is at his desk with his head down.
“Did it shock you?” I ask.
“No.” I watch his shoulders rise and fall on a breath. Then clenches his jaw and pushes the battery into the snap, and a thin wire of brilliant light blue jumps between the metal prongs. “What do you say, Millsy?”
“To you?” I scoff. Does he want me to thank him for snapping the battery in?
He grins, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “To me,” he confirms.
“Go fuck yourself?”
“You’d like to watch.”
“You’re gay,” I murmur softly.
“You are.” Ezra arches one dark brow.
“I’m not thanking you for dick,” I tell him.
My accidental double entendre makes him grin. “I guess we’ll see about that.”
Sixteen
Ezra
What would DG do if I slid under the covers with him?
It’s been almost a whole day, but I still feel his thick erection under my palm. I can feel his coarse curls brush against my fingertips when I reached down to grab him by the balls. Those fucking balls, so warm and full and heavy, drawing up as I tugged them.
The way his cock was fucking ramrod hard as I toyed with it. When I rubbed my palm over the tip of him, the fabric of his boxer briefs felt damp. I jerked him off right through his underwear, and DG moaned and rocked his hips and panted like he’d just finished a marathon. Finally, he came—because I made him.
He was…helpless. Nothing but a porn star dick with moaning boy attached. I bet if I had put my mouth around him, I could’ve sucked and he would’ve blown right there, pouring hot cum down my throat like a fire hydrant that sprung a leak.
Maybe more like a fire hose.
Today I struggled through homeroom and skipped lunch. Saw DG, of all damn people, on the walk back from the gas station; that gave me a jolt. Physics, I could barely keep my dick down. The fucking thing is waking up, and it’s a creature with a mind of its own. I woke up this morning with a monster boner that I haven't seen in months. It's long and thick and springy, standing up toward my six pack. It’s so sensitive it hurts, so sensitive that I could come just tracing my fingertips around the head of it. Like it used to be—before.