A gay story: Guilty Rhythm Ch. 02 Author’s Note:
This is a dark romance erotica. So there will be plenty of sex scenes, but they will not be the entire focus of the story. Some chapters will not have sex at all.
Trigger Warnings:
You can find the overall warnings at the beginning of chapter 1.
Chapter 2 warnings are: group sex, public sex, blowjobs, casual sex, mild racism, verbal abuse.
Act 1: The Wedding
Chapter 2
The worst part about it was how gorgeous they were together.
Bonny’s perfect petite figure popped in her pleated white tulle. Looked like a fucking pixie flitting about the dance floor with the giant Yasser.
Yasser, who had switched out his tux for a stunning all white suit, complete with gloves and threads through his short black hair that almost looked like a subtle crown. Like a goddamn fairy tale prince.
They’d finished the first dance with winded grins and a flourishing kiss that only kinda felt like a knife twisting in Avery’s gut, but he was getting used to the feeling and practised at pretending to get distracted so he didn’t have to see it and no one would hopefully read into him looking away.
In that particular instance, he masked his recoil behind a long sip of sparkling white wine, but being well into a bottle the caterers probably ear marked for him at that point, he barely tasted it. Barely felt the damn bubbles.
“It was a good thing you did.”
Avery cringed into his wine. He stared down at the liquid longingly and dreamed of diving in and drowning in it before he dared spare the awful woman a glance. “Wow. This really must be a special day. Don’t think you’ve ever given me credit for anything, Teresa.”
She pursed her lips in that all too familiar nasty scowl she reserved only for him when no one was watching. “I’m still your mother.”
“No,” Avery muttered half way into another long sip. “You are not.”
She pulled her sapphire blue shawl tighter around herself, as if simply being near him might expose her to something dirty, and awkwardly perched on the edge of the seat next to him. “You’ve managed to mostly keep your trademark inappropriate behavior in check.” Her disapproving glare dropped pointedly to the rainbow goose tattoo peeking out from beneath his cuff. “Your sister may be ‘woke’, but we’re now joining families with all these Arabs, and you know how–”
Avery barked a laugh way louder than he intended. Mom’s sharp glare snapped to him with indignation and alarm.
“Jesus, lady.” He shook his head and sent a shrugging glance around at the heads turning their way. “I hope you got their consent before you projected all over them. Yasser’s family fucking loves me.” Bitter-tasting emotion cracked at his voice, and when the woman’s hard eyes softened just a smidge, he hated himself for it. With a frustrated sneer, more at himself than her, he shook his head and waved his wine glass dismissively in her general direction. “I take it you’re referring to my lack of a date with which to flaunt just how gay my agenda is. I didn’t come alone to be decent. I did that because I’m un-fucking-lovable, clearly. But you’re welcome, I guess.”
What little pity had reflected in mom’s pretty blue eyes, took no time at all to morph into disgust. She looked away with a quiet, callous sigh, to watch the crowd of people happily rushing to fill in the dance floor. “I swear, sometimes I wonder if they cut a little too much off at your circumcision.”
Every nerve in his body twinged painfully.
It was stupid. Such a pointlessly cruel and sexist thing to say. He knew it was wrong, but knowing it didn’t stop the visceral, cloying anger and hurt from burning through his veins.
Didn’t stop the tears from stinging at his eyes.
He gulped down half his remaining wine, then got to his feet with a muttered, “Oh look. I seem to need a refill.”
“Of course, you’re running away.” The force of her rolling eyes stained her voice ugly. Like every goddamn grade school bully he’d ever had to survive. “Whether we like it or not, Avery, we’re family. And God knows I’m not over the moon about it either.”
He should have walked away in that moment, but his damned willpower always was a slave to his perpetually doomed desire to shut that woman up. To make her regret all the awful things she’d done and said to him, if only he could find the right words.
So instead, he stopped. His jaw clenched as he stared down into his glass as if he’d find courage there, and he sent a wayward glance her way. “You and I have very different ideas of what ‘family’ is.”
Her perfectly sculpted brows raised lightly. Noticeable more in her eyes than her brows, though, from years of practice at avoiding wrinkles. “Oh?” She adjusted her shawl and stood gracefully. “Who is your family now, sweetheart?” Mock pity twitched her full lips into a pout. “Yasser?”
Avery followed the pointed flick of her eyes out onto the dancefloor where Yasser was busy twirling Bonny while the crowd ate it up.
“Bless your heart,” she cooed. “No. He has a real family now. See, that’s the difference between friends and family: If you turn your back on your family, they’ll be there when you turn around again. But friends?” She clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Friends move on.”
He drained the last of the dregs from his glass. Then without another word, for fear that his voice would break, he turned around and headed for the exit.
“Oh, don’t be so melodramatic,” Mom called after him.
“Hey!” Yasser’s voice boomed over the room. “Ave! Avery, where you going, man?”
Avery forced as convincing a smile as he could muster. Took two damn tries to get one that didn’t immediately crumble away. Then he turned and waved Yasser dismissively off. “I’m just stepping outside for a second. I’ll be right back.”
Yasser stopped at the edge of the dance floor. Suspicion narrowed at his dark eyes. For a moment he just stared, like he was literally trying to parse through the subtext in real time, until finally, he shook his head, and paced after Avery. “No.”
Avery clenched his teeth through a crack in his façade. “What do you mean, no?”
“You’re not going anywhere.”
“Of course I’m not going anywhere.” Avery coughed out a weak laugh. “You’re an asshole, but I’m not leaving on your wedding day.”
“You didn’t even say hi to me.”
“I said hi.”
Yasser shook his head as he closed the distance between them. “No, you didn’t. I’d remember, because if you’d said hi, I would’ve been stoked you were finally talking to me again, and I would have hugged the fuck out of you.” And with that said, he grabbed Avery by the shoulder and yanked him into a rough-ass bear hug.
Avery grunted through it as the asshole jostled and squeezed him so hard his ribs ached. He bared his teeth and hugged back at first, but his efforts quickly turned to frantic pats. “Okay, okay! Jesus, let go before you shatter all my bones!”
Yasser stopped squeezing, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he pressed a big, forceful kiss to Avery’s temple and hissed, “I don’t know what the wicked witch said to you, baby boy, but you know better than to listen to her.”
The words hit harder than the fucking hug. Emotion welled up in his eyes and constricted at his throat. “You ass…”
“You know better,” Yasser repeated. “Say it.”
“I know better.”
“Yeah?”
Avery whacked his shoulder. “Yeah. I fucking know better, now get off me.”
Finally, Yasser released him. At least somewhat, but his hands were still all over, forcefully straightening Avery’s suit out and smoothing out his quiff. “Okay, good.” He offered a lop-sided grin. “Now stop wallowing in self pity and talk to people. Kareem’s been trying to get your attention all night.”
With a tired, wry snort, Avery shook his head and swept his gaze around the room in search of Yasser’s football teammates.
Kareem? Where the hell did that even come from? Avery vaguely remembered hearing Kareem had come out, but they’d never really got along. Kareem worked hard to get where he was. Earned himself that college scholarship the good ol’ elbow-grease way. Really, so did Avery, though most of his hard work was done on his knees, and there was a nice little puritan pocket of football players that just didn’t fuck with big slut energy.
But if the man wanted to bang, he sure could use a good 20 minute distraction.
But as he searched the room, another pair of eyes caught his instead. Dark, intense, piercing eyes. Even lurking back there in the shadows behind the DJ booth, chatting with Avery’s dad, the glint of Hadi’s eyes and the sparkle of his imposing and strangely charming smile drew Avery in like a collapsing star.
“He wanted me to chat him up to you… Is that how you say it?” Yasser frowned to himself. “Chat you up? Chat… It’s something with chat, right? Like making him sound good?”
Avery shrugged and tore his eyes away from Hadi. A wanton urge to put them right back, to check repeatedly, obsessively, if the man was still looking his way, itched at the base of his spine. “Beats me. I sucked all my grades out of my professors–you think I know what words are? Go ahead. What’s your sales pitch?”
Yasser blinked in thought, then shrugged too and held his hands out in front of him, a good distance apart, and announced in that booming voice of his, “You ain’t gonna believe this, but believe it, baby. It’s this fucking big.”
Snorts and chitters echoed around the room, peppered by the frowns of older and more proper guests.
Avery raised his brows playfully in surprise. He let out an impressed, low whistle. “Wow. That’s like, what, two feet?”
“Heck yeah, baby boy.” Yasser twirled a finger in the air. “And about a mile round, give or take.”
Avery laughed. “Really?” He glanced around until he found Kareem–tall, black, and sinewy from a lifetime on football fields and surf boards. The man’s cheeks burned with embarrassment as his buddies at his side snickered and muttered to him. “You know, I’ve been meaning to take up running in the morning.”
“Perfect! You can do laps.” Yasser flashed a broad grin and called out, “Hey Kareem! I did it! I wing-manned!”
Kareem coughed, glanced nervously Avery’s way, before wryly calling back, “Yeah. Thanks. You’re the best.”
Yasser wrinkled his nose and turned his attention back to Avery. “Aw. I don’t think he appreciates it at all.” And as Avery nodded in playfully sombre agreement, Yasser’s humour sobered to a sincere frown. A silence stretched between them for a few long beats before he sighed and said, “Man, I’m sorry.”
And that one word effectively drained what little humour Avery had managed to conjure up too. He inhaled noisily through his nose and scratched at the back of his neck. His gaze lingered on Kareem’s adorably bashful face, before getting drawn right back over to Hadi’s gaze still glinting at him from the shadows.
“You got nothing to be sorry for.”
“I love your sister so fucking much, Ave.”
If only he had more wine. Felt like a good moment to swallow a whole bottle like a fucking pelican.
“I know. Fuck me, I know.”
“Ave,” Yasser repeated more insistently. A pleading edge coloured his voice. “I swear, I never wanted to–”
“Hey, hold on.” Avery let out a weak laugh. He grasped Yasser by either side of his big head–since the bastard was so much taller, it was a damn reach–and stared up forcefully into those dark eyes. “Cool your fucking jets, baby. If you want absolution, you got it absolutely, but this is your fucking wedding day. Go. Enjoy it. Stop worrying about me. I am fine.”
Yasser sniffled. He lifted his hand to clutch Avery’s and hold it in place against his cheek. “I missed you.”
Avery snorted softly and playfully tried to tug his hand free. “Shut up.”
“I mean it. But fuck you.” Yasser let go of his hand finally, only to dotingly go back to tugging at Avery’s suit. “Because you should have been my best man, and I want an apology for that bullshit. For me having to ask Kevin.”
“You get to nut in my sister. You don’t need any apologies from me.”
Yasser snorted. “Fine.” He pointed in Avery’s face. “But that get-out-of-jail-free card is only going to work for so long. And only for little things, like wearing fucking blue vinyl pants to my reception.”
Avery scoffed and glanced down at his outfit. “What do you mean? I look cute.”
“Oh yeah, you’re cute. Getting every gay man in the room walking funny and every straight man so very confused. Surprised you didn’t break a finger stuffing your cake into those things.”
A grin tugged at Avery’s lips and at his quiet laugh, Yasser grinned and laughed too like it was infectious. “Come on, I’m decent. I wore a blazer.”
“Uh huh. You mean Bonny saw that lacy thing underneath and forced you to wear a blazer.” Yasser spread the sides of Avery’s blazer to give him a good, proper look, and shook his head as his grin broadened. “Man.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Forget it.” Yasser inhaled deeply and redirected his full attention to Avery’s gaze. Then, as if he made a decision, he squinted hard and gave the blazer a shove down Avery’s shoulders. “Fuck this. Take it off.”
Avery barked a surprised laugh. He grabbed his blazer to try to stop him. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Off.”
“Bonny won’t appreciate you ravishing me in front of all her guests, bitch.”
“This is my fucking wedding too, and my fucking friends ain’t gotta hide who they fucking are.” Yasser’s voice rose way too easily and stole the attention of what few people nearby weren’t already staring at them. “You are an artsy, slutsy twink, Avery. You think I want you to cover up and tone it down on my fucking day? No, bitch. Take it off, or I will find some fucking scissors and make us some snowflake streamers out of that bullshit.”
Avery clutched Yasser’s wrists. Only reason that worked to stop the behemoth was because Yasser clearly let him. “You’re drunk. Go away.”
“I am not.” Yasser gave the blazer another, emphatic tug. “I’m high.”
Avery snorted.
“Yasser!”
They both, in unison, snapped their attention to the dance floor where Bonny stood with daggers in her beautiful blue eyes and pure rage on her pretty flower petal face.
“Shit,” Yasser breathed.
“I swear to God–”
“I’m coming, my love,” Yasser called back. He gave Avery a wide-eyed insistent look like he was trying to impart an order telepathically, but then he grudgingly smoothed out Avery’s blazer and let go. He snapped his fingers at one of his nearby teammates. “Hey Doug, do me a favour. Keep Teresa away from him, will ya?”
Doug, looking and strutting as football-player-like as football players could get, approached with a casual grin and a light, friendly smack to Avery’s back. And even gentle, it nearly knocked him off balance. “Roger that!”
With an exhausted glare, Avery sent a scowl Doug’s way, then Yasser’s. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
Yasser made a scrunched, thoughtful face. “More of a body guard sitch. Okay, you kids have fun.”
And as Yasser headed away, two other football players started making their way over. Because those assholes could never do anything without backup from their bros.
─── ◖ ◌ ◗ ───
Even across the giant event space, the rejection looked brutal.
Avery, Kareem, and their team quarterback, Evan, all hissed sympathetically from where they perched at the edge of a folding table full of finger foods, watching Doug strut along the edge of the dance floor with a lazy, cocky grin. Didn’t quite reach his eyes. Charming as the frat boy fuck was, he had enough alcohol in him to put a few kinks in his game face.
He winked at some people he passed. Stopped at another beautiful one of Bonny’s university friends, and it took no time at all for the woman to laugh right in his face.
“Oof,” Kareem muttered. “This is hard to watch.”
“And disappointing,” Avery muttered. “I was hoping for a drink in the face, or a slap, or mace or something. This is nothing but cringe.”
Kareem laughed. “Sheesh. You know, it’s a good thing you’re hot”–He glanced sideways at Avery–“because your personality, man…”
Was that supposed to be some kinda neg? Amusement tugged Avery’s lips into a half smile. Poor guy. If he wanted to poke holes in the ol’ self esteem, there was a petite beauty queen chatting up a rich dude by the stage who could teach him a thing or two.
“Bunch of dykes, huh?” Doug announced as he returned with a lopsided, bitter grin.
Speaking of ugly personalities. Avery sent a pointed look Kareem’s way, but the man seemed intent on ignoring it, so instead, Avery pushed away from the table to greet Doug with a pitying tsk. “Oh honey, she’s not a dyke, she’s a doctor.”
“Same diff,” Doug said with a pitiful pout.
Avery chuckled and dotingly smoothed out the lapels of Doug’s snow-grey suit. “Aw, baby, no. It’s really not. Look.” He pointed across the room at a couple young women chatting and casually dancing together. “See that redhead? That’s Emily, my dad’s accountant. Freshly single and desperate for a good rebound. Bring her something with marshmallows in it and she’ll love you forever. Or at least for a few hours.”
Doug gazed off at the girl for a long, quiet moment, before dismissing the idea with a grunt. “Maybe.” He fixed his attention back on Avery. “You don’t think I could land a doctor?”
“I have no fucking doubt you can land a doctor.” Avery laughed and shook his head. “But probably not while you’re drunk and spewing shitty pickup lines in their face. Okay, come on.” He tugged Doug along with him as he backed up to the table. “Lick your wounds, have a cocktail weeny, and try again, yeah?”
“Nah, man. Are you crazy? I can’t put something phallic in my mouth with you around. You’ll get ideas.”
Avery coughed out a laugh and stopped. “I will, will I?”
Doug leaned sideways against the table with a loopy grin. “Yeah. Probably got all kinds of them already, don’tcha?” He briefly glanced at the table, just long enough to pick up a steak crostini. He took a big, sloppy bite and crunched on it as his gaze drifted down Avery’s body. “Hey, you came alone today too, right?”
Why did the question sound like a trap?
Avery didn’t have to hesitate long before a familiar voice called his name.
He turned to find his dad emerging from the dance floor in all his tacky, tie-dye-suit glory. It was crumpled and loose on him, even though he was a good couple inches over six feet, and expanding at the waistline more every day. Looked like an old hippy, but the kind of wealthy where he could get away with it and still have everyone lick his boots.
As he approached, he spread his arms wide to greet Avery with a hug. “There you are! Why didn’t you come talk to me?” Dad held Avery out at arms length with a frown.
Avery cleared his throat and shrugged. “Haven’t had the chance. Sorry.”
“I can tell you why,” Doug teased. “You’ve been chilling with Mr. Nahhas all day.”
Dad arched a brow at Doug, then at Avery. “Really? Oh, come on, Ave. He’s a nice guy!”
Avery sent a sharp look at Doug, before replying. “Everyone’s nice to you, daddy.”
“You know why?” Dad pointedly asked.
“Because you’re rich,” Avery teased. “And manly.”
Dad laughed. He playfully flexed. “I mean, that too. But mostly, people are nice to me, because I give them a chance to be.” He draped an arm over Avery’s shoulders and gave him a light squeeze. “Anyway, I need a live musical act for a little shindig I’m throwing next weekend. Are you working Sunday?”
Avery sighed wistfully. A nice weekend chilling with Dad sounded like the perfect wind-down after all the nightmarish wedding planning Bonny had roped him into. But… “I don’t know. Sunday’s open Mic night at the–”
“I’m paying.”
“I’ll be there.”
Dad flashed a victorious smile, gave another squeeze, and pulled away with a nod at Doug. “The team’s all welcome to come too, of course.”
“Cool!” Doug answered. “Thanks, Mr. Flint! We’ll be there with bells on, won’t we, boys?”
“I’ll leave you fellas to it.” But instead of leaving, dad paused and gave Avery a look. “Are you singing here tonight?”
Avery resumed his position against the table, complete with his arms folded. The threat of familial pressure crawled under his skin, and he put everything he had into saying with his eyes just how much he appreciated the question. Especially that night, with all the bruised, battered, icky feelings and abandonment issues he had to swallow up. “Not unless Bonny slips me a paycheck. She’s got a band, daddy. I picked them myself–they’re talented girls.”
“It’d mean a lot to her.” At the sight of Avery’s growing frown, Dad smiled. The smile of a powerful man that knew he’d get his way if he just twisted the screws in a little deeper. So he reached out, affectionately gave Avery’s pierced ear a gentle tug, and added, “And your mother would hate it.”
A bitter laugh bubbled up before Avery could stop it. He covered his mouth with his hand and shook his head. “Fuck. Fine. I’ll do it.”
Dad grinned. “That’s my boy.”
“But,” Avery said emphatically and waved his hand around at the room, “if I’m getting up on that stage, I am making sure every fucker in this room is as uncomfortable as I am.”
“Good. This stuffy wedding could use the shake-up.” Dad patted him on the shoulder, then headed away. “Don’t avoid Mr. Nahhas all night, Ave. He’s family now. At least say hi to him or something.” He didn’t wait for a confirmation this time and just disappeared into the crowd.
Family.
As if family wasn’t a pain in the ass to begin with, theirs had just doubled in size and obligation.
Avery grimaced to himself and let his frustrated gaze drift around the room at all the people that used to just be strangers he’d met briefly at Yasser’s, but now… Now they were family too, with all their baggage and opinions, and snotty kids.
“Fuck my life,” he whispered.
And as if that were his cue, Doug held out a red solo cup. “Sounds like you need this.”
Avery stared at it for a long moment before he took it and gave it a sniff. Vodka and coke. “Did you just steal Kareem’s drink?”
“You need it more than he does.”
Couldn’t argue with that. Avery lifted it in a subtle, grateful cheers at Kareem, who nodded and spared him a glance before icily going back to watching people dance. And as Avery took a sip, he playfully asked Doug, “You’d tell me if you roofied this, right?”
Doug and Evan laughed, but Kareem’s nose twitched with a hint of disgust. Kareem put down a little sandwich spiral he’d been working on, gave Avery a look, then peeled away from the table and started for the dance floor.
Doug grabbed his arm to stop him. “Hey, where you going, bro?”
The pure irritation in his eyes glinted like frosted steel as they passed over Avery. “Every time he opens his mouth…”
“If his mouth is the problem,” Doug lowered his voice to a slow, slurred murmur, like he was hinting at something very obvious, “then give it a job to do. You know, like a bad dog.”
Avery savoured a long sip of the cloyingly strong vodka. Jesus, they’d barely gotten any coke in there. Just enough to tickle the nose. And as all three of the asshole jocks turned to give him a loaded look, he playfully feigned interest in brushing an invisible bit of lint off the shoulder of his blazer.
Doug’s drunken smirk dripped with more filth by the second. “Hey, Ave.”
“Hm? What can I do for you, honey?”
A husky chuckle answered and heat surged in the glints of Doug’s glassy eyes. “You remember that night after the big game?”
“Oh, you’re going to have to be specific. There were a lot of games.”
“We were celebrating with pizza and playstation, but Yasser got that call from his ex and ditched us, and then it was just you, me, and three other guys…” Doug inhaled a hissing breath. He turned to whisper to Kareem, “And this little fucking bitch looks straight at us two seconds after the door closes–Yasser’s footsteps ain’t even faded down the dorm hall–and says…”
Avery helpfully supplied, “‘You ever had your cock sucked by a man before’?”
Doug snickered and nodded. “Yeah, that’s it. Subtle as a fucking club to the head. Man, Mikey was out of there so fucking fast.”
“Well,” Avery shrugged. “He was very Mormon. He’s got, like, three wives now.” He tipped his head back and drained the rest of the vodka, and every thirsty gulp burned with the heated gazes following.
“So,” An abrasively drunken need deepened Doug’s voice. “Do you still…? You know, for old time’s sake?”
As Avery set the plastic cup down, he flashed an innocent, friendly smile at the three jocks. “Lucky for you, I’m a whore for nostalgia.” He licked the too-sweet taste of vodka off his lips, then turned and sauntered off across the event hall.
Didn’t need to look back. Didn’t need to check.
Those horny fucks would come.
─── ◖ ◌ ◗ ───
The lighting in the groomsmen’s dressing room was shit, but who cared? The visual feast he offered would be wasted on those straight fucks anyway.
Avery stopped in the middle of the room. He drew his eyes closed and for a moment, just enjoyed the peace of being alone.
Muffled music thumped at the walls and the scents of cleaning products, leather from the two wingbacks and some kinda over-priced potpourri all mingled together in the air. He’d probably dream of that scent. The scent of his sister ripping his best friend out of his desperate, grabby fingers.
How many douchebags would he have to blow to cover it up with the stench of sex?
A clumsy racket preceded the door jerking open. Avery cracked his eyes open and glanced over his shoulder to greet Doug’s lop-sided, lecherous grin.
If the man were gay, Avery might have lingered there. Maybe would have given him more time with the view. Might have milked the moment and made him crawl his way over. But as tight as his ass was in that vinyl, those fuckers, not even Kareem, were there for a performance.
He’d learned his lesson in college: the straight guys and their straight-coded gay bros would never get twisted for him the way they did for women.
Who was he kidding? It wasn’t a jock thing. Gay, straight, pan–there was no one getting twisted for more than a few minutes of huffing and puffing in bathroom stalls and back rooms. And who could blame them? If he was a another, better man, he’d tap him and ghost him too.
Doug wiggled a bottle of vodka in the air in offering, before setting it on an end table by the wardrobe. His hungry gaze skated down Avery’s frame, like he was searching for something feminine to fixate on as he strolled deeper into the room with Kareem and Evan filing in behind him.
“Got you a present,” Doug announced.
Avery closed the distance as Evan closed the door. He greeted Doug by gripping his belt and roughly prying it open with a playfully casual gaze into the man’s drunken eyes. “Aw. You shouldn’t have.”
“I meant the drink, not my dick. Because I’m a fucking gentleman.”
“Open it.” Avery nodded at the bottle as he got the zipper down and slipped his hand in to give Doug a long, firm stroke.
Doug’s breath hitched. His cock twitched against Avery’s palm. “Shit…”
“You know,” Evan’s deep, moody grumble cut in. “Maybe we shouldn’t get him drunk right before he’s gonna get on stage.”
Avery let Doug go to reach for Evan’s belt. He pulled the guy to him as he pried it open. “Mm, the voice of reason. That’s so fucking hot.” He playfully licked up the length of his palm before sticking it down Evan’s pants. Fucker didn’t need much coaxing. It was already well on its way to half mast, and the way Evan’s moody eyes dipped made Avery suspect for a second, the guy wasn’t quite as straight as he’d originally thought. “Don’t worry about me. I perform on stage at the jazz club sloshed out of my fucking mind most of the week.”
“I’m not worried about you,” Evan grumbled like it was an insult to even suggest it. His nose wrinkled as he looked Avery up and down. “I’m worried about you humiliating our boy.”
A hand brushed over the back of his thigh. He glanced over as Kareem filled the space beside him. Doug, with the crack of a fresh bottle seal breaking, moved into the other side, effectively caging him in.
“Hm,” Avery tilted his head. He soaked in the sight of heat and the promise of rage just teetering on the edge in those eyes before he glanced at Doug. “I think you’re my favourite.” Then he turned completely to Doug and got down on his knees.
Doug chuckled, but the moment Avery freed his erection and sucked the cockhead unceremoniously into his mouth, that chuckle broke into a breathy growl.
“Holy fuck!” Doug grabbed onto the wall for balance. His knees trembled a little as Avery hummed through a long, indulgent suckle at the vaguely salty flavour of sensitive skin and sweat.
A faint musk crept under the scent of leather and dried flowers. Fingers slipped into his hair, and he responded with an upward glance at the three hungry faces looming, glaring, gazing.
Evan had his cock out and was already working it up. Kareem clutched his through his pants and hissed a vulgar curse through clenched teeth. And like a switch had been hit, in that moment, the game was on.
Those fingers tightened into a fist. He didn’t even know who they belonged to. Doug grabbed the back of his neck and roughly pushed in deeper to fill Avery’s mouth entirely with demanding thrusts. “Oh yeah,” he grunted down and readjusted his grip. “You like that cock, slut?”
“C’mere.” Kareem yanked Avery’s head back. Pain shot through his scalp. He barely got out a gasp as the cock slipped free before another hit his lips. Kareem gripped the bottom of his jaw. A thumb wedged between his teeth to force his lips painfully down like he was trying to make it hurt, and the abuse sent a filthy, burning need straight down Avery’s spine to quiver its way to the heated swell between his legs.
He went for his own zipper, but he barely got it down before the crush of balls against his cheek stole his attention. Kareem thrust in rough, rapid strokes. Then he was gone and Evan was in, hitting the ground running. Didn’t have as much to work with, but the way he pawed at Avery, grabbing hair, fisting, clutching and squeezing at his neck all while fucking like a feral dog put the other two to shame.
Evan’s cock speared brutally at the back of Avery’s throat. His throat clenched. Tears of strain stung at his eyes. His gag reflex, long since trained out of him, threatened to wake the fuck back up.
Avery groaned. His choking sounds filled the air under their heavy breathing and whispered insults. Whatever they were calling him didn’t register. He didn’t fucking care when he couldn’t breathe.
He clutched desperately at Evan’s legs. The fucker thrust in hard and held his head down through short, painful thrusts that buried his nose in sweaty pubes and grinded balls into his chin. And all Avery could do was squirm and struggle to suck in air.
Doug laughed and egged Evan on. “Fuck yeah, boy. Get ’em.” Like he was siccing a dog.
And it worked. Evan pulled back, barely giving Avery a chance to drag in a rasping gasp before he drilled in long, brutal thrusts that shoved Avery back against Kareem harder and harder by the second.
When he finally broke away, when Avery finally got to breathe, the air hit him like a truck. The room spun. His muscles burned and quivered, refusing to recover as vertigo slammed him down. Would have hit the ground if he didn’t have all those hands there, pulling him onto another cock and in his daze, he sucked it in, sloppy and eager, to the tune of a praising, filthy purr.
Doug fucked his face slow at first, like he was giving him a chance to feel something, but his grip on the back of Avery’s head tightened. His thrusts gained momentum and an energetic curl that drove each one progressively down his throat.
Avery clutched at flesh. An arm, or something. He dug his fingers in and it just spurred them to go harder. His grunts, his choking and groaning got louder and louder, until he couldn’t take it anymore and gave Doug’s ribs a sharp jab.
Doug lurched back. “Shit! Fucking bitch!” But broke into a grin and a laugh when Evan just grabbed Avery’s head and tried to dive in.
Avery recoiled with an unintelligible growl of protest.
“Jesus, bro, wait.” Doug shoved Evan back and treated him to a playfully chiding look. “Let the bitch breathe. You tryna get me locked out of future trips down memory lane? How you doing, Ave?”
“Do not,” Avery’s voice cracked painfully. His throat ached with every damn word. So he leaned against the mirrored wall and tried again through shallow breaths. “Do not bruise my fucking face.” He grabbed up the bottle of vodka and took a deep, greedy swig.
It burned its way down his mistreated throat, but the burn was good. The dizzy was good. The feel of fingers snaking their way back into his hair, and the demanding bray from the asshole beside him stoked his senses like a rake across glowing embers. This was it. This was where he belonged–on the ground, dizzy with booze and delicious abuse, saliva dripping from his chin, cocks waiting on him.
Fuck the world outside that door with all its rules and expectations and judgments.
Fuck them all.
He hissed as he abandoned the drink. He flashed a glare up into Kareem’s dark eyes, then surged forward and wrapped his lips around the fucker’s cockhead to give it an enthusiastic suckle.
A shudder rode Kareem’s breath. His grip shifted. He slid his fingers over Avery’s temples and thrust in, but Avery was quick to claim control, sucking and taking in the inches with curls and lashes of his tongue, with hums and grunts and other buzzy acoustic accompaniments.
He swelled his tongue along the underside. He mapped the glans with a practiced, effortless precision that made Kareem stumble and hit the mirror, and Avery didn’t let up for a second.
“Oh my God,” Kareem choked out. His mouth and jaw worked like he wanted to gasp but couldn’t get the breath out. His face screwed up and contorted through unvoiced moans.
“Oh no,” Doug teased. “Come on, man, you’re letting him win.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Kareem clutched at Avery’s head, but didn’t seem to find the purchase he needed there and slapped his hands onto the mirror instead. “What is he–”
“He’s a fucking succubus, that’s what he is.” Doug grabbed Avery’s hair to pry him off Kareem’s cock. “Get it, bitch? Because you suck?”
Avery coughed out a single laugh and rolled his unimpressed gander up at Doug’s face. “Great. Now I’m soft.”
Doug snorted and fed his cock into Avery’s eager mouth. And at the powerful suck he was treated to, Doug’s whole body twitched. “That’s okay,” he choked out. “You don’t need it for this.”
And with that said, he bared his teeth and drove in quickfire thrusts. Every time his swollen cockhead slammed the back of Avery’s aching throat, it sent sparks down his spine.
He clutched desperately at Doug’s pants. Drool oozed and splattered down his chin and throat, soaking into the collar of his lacy shirt and blazer.
Doug went hard and harder. Flesh slapped and echoed around him as Kareem and Evan jerked. Cocks grinded at his face, at his neck. Fingers gripped and grabbed and pinched.
A spurt of cum shot across the bridge of his nose. He slammed his eyes shut just in time to avoid being blinded by the ropey spurts hitting his eye through Kareem’s loud, feral growl. Evan let out a cruel laugh and muttered something about missing the mark.
Just as Doug’s hips clenched, just as he thrust in deep with cracking grunts and a broken moan to unload hard down the back of Avery’s throat, the door swung open.
Doug didn’t stop. The other two jerked away. Someone cursed. Someone else grunted at Doug, but he was too busy grinding and convulsing through his orgasm as Avery choked through the thick load.
Cum burned into his sinuses.
When Doug finally pulled back, he lurched like he hadn’t even noticed the door had opened. “Oh shit!”
Avery collapsed on his hands and knees, gasping and sputtering cum at the floor. Every muscle in his body wanted to give out, wanted to roll around on the floor like a mewling bitch.
“Uh, I know this looks kinda bad and rapey, Mr. Nahhas, but I swear…” Doug let out a laugh that sounded vaguely nervous, but mostly cocky. “He consented. Enthusiastically, if you know what I mean.”
Nahhas?!
A sharp twinge ricocheted through Avery’s weakened frame. He tried to push himself up, but with his eyes gunked closed, and the booze poisoning his blood, he just collapsed the other way, back against the mirror in a heaving slump.
“Go,” came Hadi’s deep, dry voice.
Every filthy bone in Avery’s body trembled for it. He curled his toes in his heeled boots and bit his lip hard through the strong clench of his balls and the throb through his neglected cock. He wiped the cum off his eye with the back of his wrist. Managed to crack his eyes open just in time to see the tail end of Evan retreating out the door and the massive, dark creature that was Hadi Fucking Nahhas, all rippling with muscles and power barely contained in his three piece sage suit, looming there in the doorway.
That dark, terrifying gaze locked on Avery, silent, watching, predatory, like a lion prowling after a wounded ibis.
And at the sight of it, Avery nearly came right there.
Instead of catching his breath, it grew shallower. He tried to look away, to find words, to break the silence, but all he could do, pinned beneath those eyes, was lift his hand to slowly lick the cum off his wrist.
Hadi gulped.
A twisting need clenched through Avery’s gut. And the soupy, hungry thought occurred to him that the tension charging the air between them, that gaze, those coiling muscles, that wasn’t disgust. That wasn’t disapproval.
Hadi wanted to take a bite.
Avery’s heel scraped loudly against the floor as he slowly spread his legs. He swallowed through the burn in his throat, and with their eyes still locked, with the silence growing thicker by the second, he tugged his zipper the rest of the way down over the mound of his straining erection.
Hadi stepped deeper inside and started to close the door.
“Hey Hadi! Did you find him?”
Dad.
The spell broke with a snap.
Avery shot to his feet. The vodka bottle rocked off the table to hit the ground with a sharp crack, but fuck it. Avery darted into the little bathroom off to the side and managed to slam the door shut before crashing into the sink and toilet in a gasping, panting heap.
He slapped his hand over his mouth and with wide eyes trained on the bathroom door, he shuddered through a baffled, winded laugh. Because holy fuck.
“Yeah.” Hadi’s deep, satiny voice answered, cool as a fucking cucumber. “I found him.”