Unquiet (6 page)

Loren traced his eyes down Eliot’s body, seeing the hollowness of his ribs, the flat abdomen with its trail of dark blond hair leading down into the waistband of his sleep pants. One of his knees was drawn up, one arm flung over his head, the tuft of hair in his armpit causing heat to pool in Loren’s belly. He bit his lip.

Loren swallowed hard, dragging his gaze from Eliot’s smooth chest and dark pink nipples back up to his face. He flinched when he noticed Eliot looking right at him, a knowing look in his eyes. Eliot rose up and pushed Loren to his back before swinging his leg over and straddling him in one smooth motion.

Loren stared up at Eliot looming over him in the dark, his heart pounding, and didn’t resist when Eliot slid his fingers into his hair, his face coming closer until Eliot’s parted lips rested against his own.

“Oh, Loren,” Eliot breathed, the words little more than puffs of air against Loren’s mouth. “My beautiful Loren. I love you so fucking much.”

Loren gasped when he felt the warm moistness of Eliot’s tongue gliding along his lower lip, then the sharpness of teeth as Eliot gave it a soft bite.

“Kiss me,” Eliot whispered, and Loren registered the taste of vodka an instant before overpowering lust swept over him, blocking everything out except the feel of Eliot’s wickedly experienced mouth on his, the rasp of stubble an exciting burn against his own cheeks.

The last vestige of rational thought fled under Eliot’s talented kiss, and Loren ran his fingers up Eliot’s back, digging hard into the wiry muscle. Eliot began dragging his lips over Loren’s throat, making Loren arch his head back to give him better access. He spread his legs, letting Eliot settle between them. Eliot moved his hips in a slow, sensuous circle, rubbing their hard cocks together, and Loren moaned, excited beyond belief.

“Eliot, please,” he rasped, not even sure what he was begging for, and he bucked his hips up as Eliot latched his hot mouth onto one of his nipples, sucking hard, nipping it with his teeth. “Oh God.”

Loren never realized how sensitive his nipples were until that moment, until Eliot sucked them and pinched them, making Loren writhe and cry out. Eliot gave him one final lick, then continued kissing his way down Loren’s chest to his abdomen, where he nuzzled into Loren’s treasure trail, teasing him.

He pulled Loren’s sweatpants down, and Loren’s cock sprang free, arcing toward his stomach.

“Mmmm,” Eliot purred, encircling the hard column of flesh with his hand and stroking. Loren pushed up onto his elbows and hissed as Eliot licked him almost delicately, swirling his tongue over the weeping head of Loren’s dick before engulfing the entire tip in his mouth and sucking hard.

Loren fell to his back, tangling his fingers in Eliot’s hair as he planted his feet on the bed and thrust up into that tormenting hot wetness, over and over, not able to hold back, exploding at last into the back of Eliot’s throat, moaning, thrashing as he emptied his balls into his mouth.

Loren lay there gasping as Eliot rose up above him and kissed him again, Loren not repulsed by the taste of himself on Eliot’s lips, but thrilled. He licked Eliot’s mouth clean, darting his tongue into every crevice. Eliot moaned deep in his chest, and Loren could feel Eliot’s excited dick against his hip as Eliot undulated against him.

Loren pushed him to his back and yanked his pajama pants down, his fingers shaking as he encircled Eliot’s cock and started a clumsy stroke. Eliot whispered encouragement as Loren kissed him, explored his body with his fingers and mouth, feeling stupid and inept but wanting nothing more than to bring Eliot the kind of pleasure he’d just experienced.

“That’s it, Loren, oh God,” Eliot rasped as Loren hefted his heavy balls in the palm of his hand, rolling them as he licked up and down the straining shaft, wanting to taste, wanting to see Eliot come as hard as he just had.

He coated Eliot’s dick with saliva, then watched in fascination while Eliot writhed and bucked as Loren jacked him, driving himself up through the tunnel of Loren’s fist. It wasn’t long before Eliot arched his back off the bed, rope after rope of hot come splashing all over Eliot’s chest, even up to his chin, his grunts and moans of pleasure music to Loren’s ears.

Loren collapsed onto the pillows next to him, drifting back to sleep almost immediately. They slept for a little while, then woke up to do it all over again, and again, exploring each other’s body until they lay exhausted and entwined amidst the tangled and sweaty sheets.

“I love you,” Eliot whispered, and Loren lifted his chin and kissed him.

“I can’t even remember a time I haven’t loved you,” Loren whispered in return.

“Let’s always be together, Loren,” Eliot said, and just like that his mood seemed to shift yet again, this time into the wild elation that made Loren uneasy but was undeniably thrilling to watch.

Eliot stood up on the bed, bouncing it and making Loren dizzy. He acted like he was surfing, his arms out, his legs apart.

“We’ll move to Hawaii,” he shouted. “You’ll be the world’s best cop, keeping the islands safe from bad guys.” He hummed the
Hawaii Five-O
theme song, and before he knew it, Loren was caught up in the fantasy.

“Yes!” he replied, sitting up and draping his arms over his upraised knees. “While I’m at work, you can learn to surf and spearfish.”

Eliot jumped up and down a few more times, making the bed lurch. “We’ll buy a boat, Loren. A huge boat, and I’ll take tourists out whale watching or whatever.”

“Do they have whales in Hawaii?” Loren asked dubiously. “I think there are only sharks.”

“Then we’ll go shark watching! I’ll be fearless, diving with them, letting them pull me along with their fins. I’ll be”—he dropped his voice to a hoarse rasp—“the Shark Whisperer. Everyone will be in awe!”

Loren reached up and grabbed Eliot’s hand, pulling him down into his arms in a tangle of limbs. Eliot straddled him and pinned Loren’s wrists next to his head.

“We’ll live on the beach in a little shack ’cause we won’t need much money. I’ll catch us fish to eat, and when you get home from work, I’ll be waiting for you.”

Loren bent his leg and stroked his knee along Eliot’s bare hip. “Waiting for me, naked, tanned all over,” he said with a growl. “And after we eat our fish that you caught us, I’ll fuck you all night long.”

Eliot leaned down and brushed his lips over Loren’s. “I’ve always wanted to fuck on a beach,” he murmured. “Will you fuck me on the beach?”

“On the beach, in the ocean—” He broke off and pushed Eliot to his back, coming down flush over top of him. “I just want to be with you.”

Eliot gazed up at him with those amazing eyes, and once again Loren noticed the signs something wasn’t quite right.

“I worry about you, though, El. Can we talk tomorrow about stuff, maybe talk to someone at school, or your mom, about getting you some help?”

Eliot didn’t answer, just pulled Loren’s mouth to his, and immediately Loren was lost in him. Afterward Loren hugged him close, vowing he’d do everything possible to take care of this boy, this man, who meant more to him than anyone else on earth.

“HEY, FUCKER.”
Loren looked up startled as Andy Fisher, one of his friends and teammates, plopped his lunch tray on the table and sat down next to him. They bumped knuckles in greeting, and Andy started devouring his pizza.

“Isn’t that wild about Crazy Eliot getting suspended?” Andy mumbled around the strings of cheese hanging from his mouth. Loren choked on his own huge bite, coughing, tears streaming from his eyes.

“What?” he croaked, his voice full of disbelief. “You fucking with me?”

“No way, dude. I was there. Ms. Lassiter told Eliot to stop talking or else she wouldn’t accept his research project, that the earliest he could turn it in would be tomorrow and it would be considered ‘late.’ He flipped the fuck out, man. Threw a desk and shit, was screaming. Lassiter had to call security. Figured you’d know all this, being’s how you’re so tight with him.”

Loren sat in utter shock, staring stupidly at the other boy.

“I didn’t know,” he said, hearing the hollowness in his voice. “I haven’t seen him all day.”

“Well, I saw him heading out to the practice field right before I came in here. Looked like Tate was with him. Eliot was supposed to leave school grounds right away, so I don’t know what they were gonna do out there.”

Having imparted the shocking news about Eliot’s suspension and gotten the reaction he was apparently seeking, Andy shrugged and went back to his pizza. Loren exploded up out of his seat, flinging his half-empty tray in the general direction of a trash can before bolting out the school doors and toward the practice field.

He might have had an unrequited crush on Tate at one time, but Loren knew the dude was an unapologetic homophobe, announcing on the first day of practice if he caught any “fags” looking at his junk in the shower, he’d fucking kick their teeth in. He was big and dumb, and Loren was terrified he’d lured Eliot out to the remote practice field on some pretext so he could fuck his shit up over some imagined slight, like Eliot bumping into him in the hallway and getting “fag” germs on him.

Loren ran pell-mell across the field, wondering where the other two could be, and he skidded to a halt when he noticed the door to the equipment building was ajar. He stopped and listened, not hearing anything alarming, like a fistfight, so he stepped inside with caution.

The room smelled musty, and Loren wrinkled his nose. Why would they be in here? Suddenly a low grunt reached his ears, and he spun around and pushed his way to the back of the small building, expecting to see Tate with Eliot in a headlock, punching the shit out of him.

Instead he was treated to the sight of the boy he loved down on his knees on the dusty floor, his mouth stretched wide around Tate Miller’s erect cock. Tate thrust back and forth, yanking hard on Eliot’s bluish blond hair, hair Loren had smoothed off Eliot’s sweaty forehead as he held him close.

“Yeah, suck it, bitch,” Tate snarled, pistoning his hips faster. “Gonna choke you with that meat, you faggoty little slut.”

Loren took a step forward, thinking maybe Tate was forcing Eliot, but he stopped in his tracks when Eliot moaned in apparent arousal, rubbing the very obvious erection tenting out the front of his own jeans with his hand. Eliot was
enjoying
this? Tears started to slide down Loren’s cheeks as he watched Tate use Eliot in a debasing, humiliating way, yanking him off his dick a split second before coming all over his face.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Tate grunted when the spasms stopped, shoving Eliot away so he fell to his backside in the dirt. “Hate to sound like a fudge-packer, but no bitch can suck a dick like you can.” Loren watched in numb disbelief as Tate withdrew a wad of bills from his pocket and threw them down on Eliot’s chest.

Eliot palmed his erection, grinning around the come coating his face. “So, don’t suppose you wanna help me with this, then?” he taunted.

“You take your dick out, Devlin, and I’ll cut it off,” Tate muttered, tucking himself away.

Eliot rolled smoothly to his feet. “Gimme the number too, asshole,” he drawled. “That was part of the deal.”

Tate wiped the sex sweat off his forehead with his sleeve, then reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a piece of paper.

“I always get the best shit from this dude,” he muttered, handing it over. “It’s good quality, ain’t never had a bad batch from him. It’ll cost you, though,” he warned.

Eliot held up the fistful of bills Tate had thrown at him, brandishing them with triumph. “Between this and what I stole from my mom’s purse, I got it covered.”

Tate eyed him. “We could make this like a weekly thing, at least ’til school lets out,” he ventured. “Or until I find a bitch who’ll blow me how I like it.”

Eliot grinned and spit on the ground a few times, lifting up the hem of his T-shirt to wipe his face off. “Why not?” he murmured. “Bring your friends. I need to build up my savings.”

A look of disgust mixed with prurient excitement crossed Tate’s stupid face. “Yeah, I know some guys who’d pay to tap your tight ass. If you’re down for it, I’ll set it up.”

“I’m down for anything that will get me off, get me money, or get me high,” Eliot said flippantly, stuffing the crumpled bills in his front pocket. “All three? Score.”

Tate snorted, then turned and left without another word. Loren sagged against shelves crammed full of musty football shoulder pads, his naive, stupid dreams in ashes. He scrubbed his eyes on his sleeve and stepped out from where he’d been lurking, and Eliot started in fright when he saw him.

“Loren? What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you, obviously.” Loren hated the way his voice trembled, hated the way the tears he couldn’t hold back started to flow faster.

“What’s wrong?” Eliot asked, coming toward him, and Loren held up his hand.

“Don’t fucking come any closer, Eliot.”

“Loren, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now, El?” Loren choked. “
What’s wrong
? You were just blowing Tate Miller for money!”

“He didn’t have any cocaine,” Eliot said, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world. “He wanted another BJ, and because he didn’t have any coke, he said he’d pay me some money instead and give me his dealer’s number. So it’s pretty much the same thing. I blow him, I get coke.” Eliot shrugged.

Loren felt like he’d stumbled into some alternate reality, thinking maybe this was a horrible dream. But no, the smell of the equipment room and the sight of Eliot with swollen lips and drying come caught in his stubble was all too real.

The sound of his heart breaking could doubtless be heard in the next county.

“So what we’ve been doing, talking about, it was—what was it, El?” he rasped around the ground glass in his throat. “Just saying what you thought I wanted to hear so I’d get you off?”

“It’s so much better with you than it’s ever been with anyone else, Loren,” Eliot said earnestly, taking another step forward. “You make me feel so good. Thank you.”

“
Thank
—”
Loren’s voice choked off, and he closed his eyes. He didn’t know Eliot had gotten so close until he felt a gentle hand on his cheek.