Just a Bit Wrecked (Straight Guys 11)

“For fuck’s sake,” Logan gritted out above him. “This is exactly what we shouldn’t be doing.”

But his hand was still buried in Andrew’s hair and it wasn’t pushing him away, not even when Andrew drunkenly nuzzled his way lower, mouthing at the bulge under Logan’s pants, needing it.

“Christ,” Logan breathed out, his hand already working on his belt. “All right, I guess one more time won’t make a difference.” He unzipped his fly and his hard cock sprang out of it, hitting Andrew’s face.

Andrew stared at it hungrily and parted his lips, silently inviting it inside.

Logan groaned and pushed his cock into his mouth in one hard thrust.

God yes.

Everything after that was a blur of gut-wrenching pleasure and need. Andrew was only vaguely aware that he was making obscene sounds and moaning around that cock like a cock-hungry cocksucker, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He felt so good.

Some awareness slipped back into Andrew when he felt Logan’s hands gripping his face and holding it still as he fucked his mouth harder. He allowed it, his brain too intoxicated and hazy to think. He loved it, loved being used by Logan, loved being just a warm mouth for his cock. It felt right. He felt needed. Essential.

He slipped his hand into his sweatpants and started stroking his own aching cock, but he could barely focus on it. All his focus was on the familiar cock fucking his mouth, the way it bumped against the back of his throat, making him gag a little, how good it felt to have his lips stretched wide around the thick length. The taste of him was so familiar. So right. He’d missed it so much.

“Wait,” Logan ground out, pulling his cock out of Andrew’s mouth.

Andrew made a protesting noise, his brain unable to comprehend anything. He let Logan push him back onto the bed and arrange their bodies so Logan’s face was above his cock. He gasped when Logan’s hot mouth wrapped around his aching cock, but the pleasure felt secondary to his need to suck Logan’s. He guided Logan’s cock back into his mouth, moaning in relief as it started fucking his mouth again. This was all he wanted. This was all he’d needed. This cock, the taste of it, the way it filled his mouth.

When Logan came, Andrew swallowed his jizz greedily but kept sucking—until Logan hissed in discomfort and pulled out. “Oversensitive,” he said, before going back to sucking Andrew’s cock.

Andrew buried his face in Logan’s crotch, drowning in his scent, Logan’s mouth hot and tight around his cock. God. Logan stroked his balls, and Andrew came with a muffled moan, shaking and panting.

He floated on the cloud of pleasure-good-right for a long time. He whined and grabbed Logan’s arm when he started pulling away. Don’t go.

“Okay,” Logan said.

The mattress dipped. Logan stretched out next to him on his back. Andrew immediately rolled on top of him. Logan made an annoyed noise but didn’t push him off.

Taking it as permission, Andrew unbuttoned Logan’s shirt and put his face on the other man’s pecs, enjoying the familiar sensation of Logan’s sparse chest hair tickling his cheek. His body went boneless, a feeling of warm contentment spreading through him.

“Just this time,” Andrew mumbled. “We’ll go to a therapist tomorrow.”

Logan sighed, his hand setting on Andrew’s back and pulling him closer. “Yes. Tomorrow.”

Chapter 16

Logan stared at the man sleeping on his chest and wondered how it was possible to feel so relaxed and at ease when he had clearly lost his mind.

This hadn’t been the plan. He had arrived at the hotel to check up on Andrew, not to fall into the same rabbit hole again. The guy had sounded like a mess on the phone, and Logan had intended to just check up on him and then go on with his life.

Right, said a sardonic voice at the back of his mind. You’re as bad as he is, if not worse.

Running a hand over his face, Logan sighed. Yeah, maybe. If he were honest with himself, being away from Andrew had been… frustrating. These past weeks he’d constantly felt distracted, his body crawling with agitation. He was too used to sleeping wrapped around Andrew, too used to taking care of him. Logan had expected—hoped—that with the return to the normal world, his former independent habits would be back, but so far it wasn’t happening. Or maybe the need to be needed by Andrew had become too deeply ingrained into him.

Either way, what happened last night was a mistake. A mistake he shouldn’t make again. As long as he didn’t make it again, it should be fine. It was like quitting smoking: stopping completely wasn’t easy, but as long as he didn’t make a habit out of it, it was still possible to quit.