He made the mistake of thinking I would choose revenge over self-preservation.”
Webster threaded their fingers together. “He clearly doesn’t see the kind of person you are, that you’ve always been.”
“What kind of person is that?”
“A protector. A gentle giant. You hated even killing bugs. How many strays did we rescue and hide in the attic until they were healed?” Webster asked.
Cy smiled. “More than a few.” He dragged a thumb over the bruise on Webster’s cheek. “I hate hurting you.”
Webster shook his head. “I hurt me. I did this. The other stuff…the other stuff was hot. I’m not fragile, Cy. I like when you’re rough with me. I like when you hurt me just a little. I meant what I said… I want you to use me. It turns me on to know it makes you feel good. I like being the one who makes you feel good.”
Cy groaned. “You can’t just say that stuff.”
“Why?” Webster asked, sliding his hand down to feel Cy’s semi-hard cock.
“You know why, you little tease,” Cy growled, pushing himself up into Webster’s touch.
Webster knew their conversation was important, life or death even, but he never wanted to stop touching Cy. He rolled on top of him, a whine catching in his throat as their cocks slotted together. He dragged his lips over Cy’s, tongue sliding out to taste him. “I can’t help it. You always smell so good. You feel so good. Think I can make you come again before the second bed check?”
Cy flipped them, catching Nicky’s hands and settling between his open thighs. “Uh uh. My turn.”
Webster’s legs came around his waist, rocking up into him, his breath leaving him in a gasp as pleasure arced along his nerve endings. “Oh, fuck. That feels good.”
Cy buried his face in Webster’s throat. “You like that?”
“Fuck, yeah. Keep going.”
Cy’s low chuckle raised goosebumps along Webster’s skin. Cy was the only good thing about this godforsaken place. He was truly the only good thing Webster ever remembered in his life. He had friends and a job, but relationships had never been for him. Nobody really got him. They didn’t understand his need for distance one minute and his fear of abandonment the next. They didn’t understand wanting to belong only to one person while living every minute in fear they’d be ripped away from you. Cy did. He’d lived through it with Webster.
Webster clung tighter, his mouth sliding against Cy’s, his tongue pressing past the seam of his mouth to lazily invade it, matching his movements to the frantic rocking of their bodies. He ripped his mouth away, biting at Cy’s earlobe, as he felt his orgasm build. “Fuck. Just like that. I’m so close.”
Webster dug his heels into Cy’s ass, spurring him to move faster, go harder. He was teetering on the brink; he just needed one more thing to push him over the edge. “Tell me I’m yours.”
“You’re mine,” Cy growled in his ear without hesitation. “You’ve always been mine. Mine to protect. Just mine.”
Webster cried out as he came between them, his release coating them both, easing the friction of their bodies as Cy rutted against him. “Yeah, that’s it,” Webster crooned, his hand running over Cy’s sweat-slicked body, before kissing his throat, tasting the salt of his skin.
Cy’s whole body tensed as he went up on his hands, looking between their bodies as he thrust two more times before painting his release over Webster’s stomach and chest. He then collapsed back on him, trapping the mess they’d made between them.
Webster grimaced, then laughed, weirdly euphoric considering the pit in his stomach. “Do you think we’d get along on the outside?” he asked eventually. “Like, if you’d met me again in my dorky black polo shirt and khakis and I spent my days talking about comic books and pop culture, would you still want me, you think?”
“Will you still want me when I get out next year and I come home every day smelling like a kennel from cleaning dog cages and I want to adopt a hundred stray dogs and I make barely enough to feed us?”
Webster smiled. “Is that where you go when you’re not working in the laundry? Is that why you sometimes smell like a wet dog?”
“Yeah, I train service dogs. It’s a special program. My dog right now is Rosie. She’s a pitbull, and she’s really stubborn.”
“My friend Robby and his husband live on a ranch, and they have tons of rescue animals. I’d be okay with