Chapter 5
Austin
Hunched over my desk, clicking away at the keys on my keyboard, a headache starts to form behind my eyes. It’s been threatening all morning, and now it seems determined to manifest. I sit back and pinch the bridge of my nose, rolling my shoulders in an attempt to ease some of the knots that have been forming there all week. All week since I woke up alone in a cold bed—no sign of Oliver, no note, and no messages since.
A tap at my door forces me to stop rubbing my forehead and open my eyes.
“You okay?” Luke asks, looking me over with concern.
“Fine, just a headache.”
“Have you had lunch yet? I was going to hit the deli down the street if you want to come?”
“Yeah,” I agree, typing the last few lines of the email I’d been working on and hitting send. “Let’s go.”
Being February in Chicago, it’s cold as fuck outside, but the deli is less than a block away so we just settle for walking quickly to get out of the cold.
“So, you never did tell me how the wedding was last weekend,” Luke says after we’ve ordered and grabbed a table.
“It was fine,” I answer vaguely. “Good, actually. Harry apologized for being a dickhead, and it wasn’t any more awkward than I thought it would be.”
“And the date I got you?”
I work hard to maintain my poker face, shrugging and lifting my drink to my lips for a sip.
“He did the trick,” I answer succinctly as I can manage.
“Huh.”
“What, huh?”
“I figured the wedding was a shitshow and that was why you have been so pissy this week. Now, I’m trying to figure out what crawled up your ass and died.”
I bristle but don’t argue. He’s right; I’ve been a complete asshole this week. I’ve considered telling him about Oliver a couple of times, getting his opinion on how I should proceed. But each time, I’ve changed my mind and kept my mouth shut. And I’m not about to change my tactics now.
“Everything was fine,” I repeat. “I’m in a pissy mood, but I’ll work it out over the weekend and be a right ray of sunshine come Monday morning, boss,” I assure him, too much of a bite in my tone for it to be mistaken entirely as joking.
“You need to get laid,” Luke concludes. “Hit up one of your Grindr hookups and get them to pull the stick out of your ass.”
Of course, at the mention of Grindr, my mind goes directly to Oliver. Maybe I should message him. What could it hurt? If he doesn’t want to hookup again then so be it.
“I’ll do that,” I promise, taking a sip of my soda, the knot in my chest unraveling a little now that I’m decided. And if Oliver doesn’t want me, I’m sure I can find someone else to have some fun with tonight.
Oliver
I glance around the bar to make sure everyone’s drinks look good, and then I pull my phone out, simply to glare at it at this point. I knew Austin wouldn’t message me. He didn’t last time, and there’s nothing to make this time any different. In fact, if anything, my odds are worse this time because at least the last time I explicitly told him to hit me up again. He probably thinks I was blowing him off when I left without saying anything. I’m sure the ball’s in my court, but even knowing that, I can’t bring myself to initiate contact. If he doesn’t want to see me again, I’m not about to force it.
I’m sure if I sent him a message, he’d be at my place in a hot second, eager to suck and fuck me all over again. When put like that, there’s no downside. And yet I still don’t message him.
“Who is he?” Lucy, the other bartender working with me tonight, asks with a knowing smile.
“Who’s who?”
“The guy who has you staring at your phone that hard.”
I sigh and shove my phone back into my pocket. “Just a guy.”
“Uh-huh.” She makes a sound like she can read everything I’m not saying.
“We’ve hooked up twice; it’s not a big deal. I wasn’t expecting him to message me again. I just…”
“Hoped he would,” she finishes my sentence for me, and I nod, feeling pathetic. “Why don’t you message him?”
I make a face, and she laughs. “If he wants to see me, he knows how to get ahold of me.”
“You never know, maybe he still will.”
“Meh.” I shrug like I couldn’t care less one way or the other and turn around to stock the liquor and end this conversation.
A new customer comes in, and while I’m filling a glass of beer for him, my phone sounds from my pocket with a Grindr notification; I nearly overflow the drink.
“Shit,” I mutter, grabbing a rag to wipe my hand and the side of the glass where just a little foam escaped. I hurry to hand the drink over and then reach into my pocket quickly.
My fingers fumble over my password to unlock my phone, getting it on the second try. My smile widens when I see the message is from Austin.
Austin: Hey…what are you wearing?
I chuckle at the bad pickup line and glance down at myself.
Oliver: White t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Does that make you hot, baby?
Austin: Oh yeah ;) lol
Austin: So… what are you up to tonight?
Oliver: I picked up a bartending shift. You?
Austin: I’m not really sure. Any suggestions on how I can spend my lonely Friday night?
Oliver: Hmmmm…. well, I DO know a bar with a slutty bartender who would probably blow you in the back room if you kept him company for a few hours.
Austin: Sounds intriguing. Does this bar have a name?
I switch to my maps and pull up my location to send to him. When Austin doesn’t respond again after a few minutes, I put my phone away and try not to stare at the door.
“There’s a total hottie eye fucking you at the end of the bar right now,” Lucy whispers in my ear about forty minutes later.
I jerk my head around so fast I’m surprised I don’t give myself whiplash. Sure enough, Austin is sitting at the end of the bar looking at least ten kinds of fuckable—his dark hair windblown, his eyes shining, and a shyly hopeful smile on his lips.
“He came.”
“Oh my god, is that the guy? I can see why you were pouting so hard about not hearing from him. Yum.”
“Back off, he’s mine,” I tease before making my way toward him.
“Hey,” Austin greets me when I reach him.
“Hey,” I say back, feeling suddenly like I’m in middle school. “Get you a drink?”
“Sure, I’ll take whatever’s on tap.”
“Coming right up,” I give him a wink and a flirty smile before turning around to grab his drink. I make sure to add a little wiggle to my step and grin to myself when I turn my head to catch Austin’s gaze glued to my ass.
When I take him his drink, it’s on the tip of my tongue to say something about how I didn’t expect to hear from him, but that might sound too much like I was hoping to hear from him. So instead, I keep it casual.
“How was your week?”
“Kind of stressful honestly,” he admits, taking a sip of his beer.
“Ah.” Now it makes sense. He had a rough week, and he’s looking for a little Friday night distraction, which I’m more than happy to provide. “Well, I’d say you came to the right place to unwind.”
“Looks like,” he agrees.
Before we have much more time to chat, the bar gets busy, full of everyone else who needs to unwind on a Friday night just like Austin does. I have the chance to refill his glass a couple of times, but other than that it’s only apologetic smiles I manage to shoot him as I hurry past to help other customers. By the time last call rolls around, my pocket is full of tips—and a few phone numbers—But I’m not happy at all, because when I glance over at Austin’s seat, he’s gone.
“Damn, he left.”
“Can’t blame him. He hung in for four hours,” Lucy points out. “It might not be too late to still hookup with him tonight though. Message him, see if you can meet up now that we’re finishing up.”
“It’ll still be at least another hour before I’m able to get out of here,” I lament. “Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.”
“Nah, I’ve got it from here. Go see if you can still catch your man.”
“He’s not my man,” I grumble.
“But you wish he was.” I can’t argue with that.
“Thanks, Luce. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again soon.”
“Yeah, thanks for the help tonight.”
I punch out and hurry from of the quieting bar, pulling my phone from my pocket as I push through the door and into the cold night. But before I get the chance to send a message to Austin, I see someone leaning against the side of the building, and I smile.
“I thought you took off.” I close the few steps between us as Austin looks up with an uncertain smile.
“I was debating if I should or not. I didn’t know how much longer you’d be and if it was weird that I was just sitting there all night waiting for you.”
“Sorry it got so busy. I really did intend to blow you in the back room.”
“Is the offer off the table now?” he asks.
“Well, not the back room, but if you want to come back to my place…” I let the suggestion hang in the air for a few seconds, holding my breath. Austin seems to be thinking it over, which is a little strange since he was the one who messaged me to get together, but after a few beats, he nods, pushing off the wall.
“Let’s go.”
My place is only a block away, but since Austin’s car is parked right outside the bar, we drive.
“You like working at the bar?”
“Yeah, from time to time. I hate the idea of having a job where I’m expected to be every day but picking up shifts here and there is nice. I get a lot of inspiration at the bar, and the tips aren’t too shabby.”
“It looked like you were having fun. The guys love you; they were all desperate for your fleeting attention,” Austin muses with just the barest hint of jealousy in his voice.
“Hmmm, I didn’t notice. There was this guy at the end of the bar who had all my attention tonight,” I flirt, putting my hand on his thigh while he drives and leaning over to flick his earlobe with the tip of my tongue. A shiver runs through his body as I scrape my teeth against his flesh, and my cock gets hard.
He manages to find a place to park in front of my building, and I lead him up to my apartment where we both kick off our shoes and hang our coats near the door.
“Are you in a hurry, or do you mind if I take a few minutes to unwind before we get to the naked and sweaty part?” I check.
“Oh no, that’s fine.”
“Great, I need food and a joint.” I head for the kitchen while Austin lingers in the living room. “Feel free to sit down on the couch. Pick something to watch if you want,” I offer. “Do you want a sandwich? I don’t have anything fancy, but I make a mean ham and cheese.”
“I’m good, thanks.”
I assemble one for myself, eating it as I walk from the kitchen to my bedroom to grab a joint, the food hitting my stomach like a brick after going all day without anything. Austin has some true crime show pulled up when I get back to the living room.
“Is this okay?” he checks.
“Whatever,” I assure him with a shrug, sliding into the empty spot beside him and lighting the joint. I inhale deeply, filling my lungs with sweet smoke and holding it there until my lungs burn for air, and then blowing it out. I hold my hand out to Austin, offering him a toke, and he takes it. He fumbles with lighting it but doesn’t have a coughing fit this time. “I’m not corrupting you or something, am I? Have you smoked weed before?”
“Yeah, in college. It’s been a few years though,” he admits, his voice a tad hoarse from the smoke.
We pass the joint back and forth until it’s cashed, and then I toss the lighter and the stub on the coffee table I pulled out of the trash last year. People throw away way too much perfectly good furniture.
A pleasant, sleepy feeling buzzes in my head, my whole body relaxing as I sag against Austin to watch whatever he put on. His arm goes around my back, and his hand trails gently up and down my arm, sending delicious chills through me, lulling me into a deeper plane of relaxation.
“I didn’t think you’d message me again,” I admit, my defenses down and my brain too fuzzy to keep too many pretenses in place.
“I wasn’t sure you wanted me to,” he admits. “And I wasn’t sure if I should.”
“I wanted you to,” I assure him. “Why shouldn’t you?”
He’s quiet for so long I forget I asked a question by the time he answers.
“I don’t really know. For a long time, I was afraid of getting hurt again after Harry, and now…maybe it’s more habit than anything?”
“Mmm,” I make a noise of understanding in the back of my throat before sliding off the couch and onto my knees in front of him. “Well, I’m glad you did.”
The bulge in Austin’s pants grows, his eyes hungry and his chest rising and falling heavily as he licks his lips and waits to see what I’ll do. Pushing up his shirt, I drag my tongue over his flat stomach, through the light smattering of dark hair and up to his pink, peaked nipples. Austin leans back, his arms spread along the back of the sofa, his body relaxed and completely surrendered to me.
“You’re high as fuck right now, aren’t you?” I guess.
“Mm-hmm,” he murmurs, nodding slowly, a goofy smile spreading across his lips.
“You want me to do this though?” I double check.
“Wanted you earlier, wanted you all week, want you now,” he confirms.
Works for me.
I dip my head again, grazing my teeth along the rosy bud of his nipple and eliciting a gasp from him.
“God, I can feel that all the way to my cock,” he breathes in surprise.
“That’s the pot, relax and enjoy.” I waggle my eyebrows at him. He groans in agreement, all but melting into my touch as I lave the flat of my tongue over his nipple and then bite it gently again, making him gasp all over and then doing the same to the other one.
I alternate for a few minutes until Austin is squirming and begging, humping his hips up into me and tangling his fingers in my hair. When I pop the button on his jeans, he babbles yes and please over and over.
“Lift up,” I instruct so I can tug his pants and underwear down, his heavy, hard cock bouncing against his stomach as I free it.
Both times we’ve hooked up so far, he got to have all the fun while I laid back and enjoyed, but this time it’s my turn. My mouth waters as I take in the sight of his thick, swollen shaft, the head shiny with precum and flushed a dark shade of pink.
“Am I safe without a condom?” I check.
“Yeah, tested. No one in six months,” he murmurs, and it strikes me that he might mean he hasn’t hooked up with anyone since we hooked up.
Pushing that thought aside, I wrap my hand around the base of his cock and give it a slow, deliberate stroke, watching as more precum gathers at his slit, one thick bead breaking free and rolling down his shaft toward my fingers. I dart my tongue out and lap it up, the salty taste bursting on my tongue. More follows and I lick that up too, devouring him like a melting ice cream cone before wrapping my lips around his wide head and taking him into my mouth.
“Ollie, god that’s so good,” he moans, his hips twitching to push his cock deeper, so I relax my throat and let him, looking up at him and trying to communicate with my eyes alone that I don’t mind if he fucks my throat.
He groans and gives a slow, experimental thrust, the head of his cock bumping against the back of my throat, but not going deeper right away. I moan and rub my hands up and down his thighs to encourage him.
Austin’s grip tightens in my hair, and he starts to fuck deeper, burying his cock in my throat and then retreating over and over as I fall into a familiar rhythm of relaxing and breathing between thrusts. The feral sounds coming from his chest make my own cock desperate, so I reach into my pants and stroke myself while his drags over my tongue again and again.
I work my hand fast as Austin’s cock swells between my lips, his moans growing frantic as he fucks wildly.
“Ollie, Ollie, I… I…” he grunts, his grip on my hair loosening to give me the opportunity to pull off before it’s too late, and when I don’t, he throws his head back with an animalistic cry and unleashes into my mouth. The thick vein on the underside of his shaft pumps against my tongue as thick, bitter cum fills my mouth and pours down my throat. My own release washes over me at the same time, sticky spend trickling over my fingers as I jerk myself through my orgasm, sucking and licking Austin’s cock until it starts to soften, and he collapses into the couch.
Pulling my hand out of my pants, I lick my lips and get to my feet.
The flicker of light from the TV glows against Austin’s blissed out face, his eyes closed and his lips parted in a smile.
“I’m going to clean up really quick; be right back.” I brush a kiss to his forehead and then go to the bathroom to wash my hands and strip out of my cum soaked pants. After changing into a pair of pajama pants and brushing my teeth, I go back to the living room to find Austin rubbing his eyes and looking around with a little confusion.
“You okay, sugar lips?”
“Yeah, just trying to remember where I put my shoes. I should get going.”
“Not when you’re this high. Come sleep with me.” I shut off the TV and haul him to his feet. He doesn’t argue, simply following me to my bedroom and kicking off his jeans before climbing into bed with me.
He settles in on his back, his arm splayed out over my pillow, which I take as an invitation to use his shoulder as a pillow instead. He smells good as I snuggle close, like a little bit of man sweat and just a hint of soap that hasn’t quite faded away throughout the day. He also smells like weed and beer, but that’s not so bad either.
“Austin,” I whisper, unsure if he’s still conscious.
“Mm?”
“If you go before I wake up, will you leave a note?”
“Sure, baby,” he murmurs, and we both drift off to sleep.
*****
I kick blindly at my heavy blankets, my skin slick with sweat as morning sun streams through the windows. I squint my eyes open, and it becomes immediately clear that it isn’t my blankets that are heavy—Austin is still asleep, his body half on top of me as he snores softly.
A smile tugs at the corner of my lips as I take him in—face slack with sleep, dark hair messy, chest rising and falling slowly as his eyelids flutter with a dream. If it wasn’t for my bladder screaming at me, I could lay and watch him indefinitely. Instead, I wiggle carefully out from under him, causing him to jerk awake with a grunt in the process.
“Ollie?” he asks groggily.
“Yeah, sorry, I have to pee. I’ll be right back.”
When I get back from the bathroom, Austin is sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes, my blankets pooled around his waist.
“What time is it? I can’t find my phone.”
“It’s probably in the living room with your clothes.” I grab my own phone off the floor to check the time. “And, it’s almost noon. Sorry, we must’ve crashed pretty hard.”
“Wow, yeah, I can’t remember the last time I slept this late.” His stomach gurgles, and he rubs it with a shy smile.
“I don’t have much, but I can probably whip up some eggs if you want.”
“You don’t have to do that,” he says, waving me off as he climbs out of bed. “I should probably get going anyway.”
“Right, of course.”
I watch silently as he gets dressed quickly, the wheels in my brain turning slowly as I try to figure out if there’s something I could say to make him hang around just a little longer.
“Would it be cool if I message you again?” he asks, his back to me as he pulls his pants up.
It takes me a few seconds to register the question, but once I do, my heart gives a small flutter.
“Yeah, any time.”
“Okay, cool.” Austin finally turns around again, running his hand through his short hair and meeting my eyes for a few seconds. “I’m not in a place for anything serious. I want to be clear that if we hookup again—”
“Oh my god, totally,” I cut him off to agree before he can finish his sentence. “Trust me, I so don’t do commitment. Just the thought of having someone expecting me to be somewhere or do certain things makes me itchy.”
He breathes out a visible sigh of relief. “Perfect. I’ll message you soon then.”
“Great.”
I walk him to the door, watching for a few seconds as he heads down the stairs and then I close the door and turn back to my now empty apartment. No commitment is the way to go, I assure myself. It’s what I’m used to, and why fix what’s not broken?