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I’m still contemplating the vision of beauty that crossed my path the next day; remembering the fiery red of his hair; cut short but with enough there to allow someone’s fingers to run through. I’m also remembering the stormy grey of his eyes, the ampleness of his ruby lips and the slight curve of his back, sloping down into something altogether more satisfying. My cock begins to stir and I’m fantasising some altogether more obscene notions, when a voice breaks through my reverie. I jerk my head up scowling, then blush nearly forty shades of red as I realise who I’m scowling at.
“Hey, do you mind if I sit here?” He asks politely.
I nod my assent and try not to stare as he plonks himself down in the seat next to me. He’s even more beautiful up close.
He holds out his hand. “I’m Tyler by the way.”
Struck dumb for a few moments I simply gaze at his hand, not speaking. A bemused smile appears on his lips and he waves his other hand in my face.
“You with me?” He teases.
I snap out of my trance and take his hand in my own. It’s soft and warm, sending tingles down my spine, into my stomach, to pool pleasurably in my groin.
“Ares.” I answer.
“God of war, right?”
I smile, surprised. “Not many people know that.”
He raises an eyebrow and taps the side of his nose. “Not many people are as smart as we are.”
I smile again, liking that he’s collated us as ‘we.’ The rest of the class is pretty much boring but I take pleasure in making furtive glances at Tyler, drinking in his profile and breathing hard to find his scent. He smells like ocean air; salty and clean, almost tempting me nuzzle his neck and run my fingers through his hair.
We go together for lunch where I find out that Tyler skipped a year at school (genius) and so despite being in his second year of university, has only just turned 19. I’m confused as to why I haven’t seen him before and he explains that he’s just transferred from another university because the History degree here offered a broader range of topics. He also informs me that he’s a long distance runner which would account for his lithe body. He probably weighs no more than 170 pounds and I’m hard pressed to stop myself from imagining that very same litheness undulating beneath me. I berate myself mentally and try to concentrate on the words leaving the cupid bow of his lips.
Both of us are laughing hysterically at a particularly humorous anecdote he has about his last lecturer when a shadow descends upon our table. I look up expectantly only to groan inwardly as I’m confronted with a grim faced, Azrael.
“Who’s your new friend, Snow?”
I grit my teeth angrily and steadfastly ignore him, hoping he’ll take the hint and fuck off.
No such luck.
Tyler offers his hand, “Tyler. And you are…?”
Azrael takes his hand and holds it for longer than necessary, blatantly stroking his thumb back and forth across the back of it.
“Azrael.” He practically purrs.
He’s really taking the piss now.
“What do you want, Azrael?” I question, venomously.
“But, you know that already, Snow White.” He enthuses.
I flinch at both the name and meaning of his words. By now, Tyler is looking slightly bemused at our exchange and has his head cocked to the side, one eyebrow raised.
“We used to date.” I explain to Tyler. His face changes and he nods in understanding.
“If I remember correctly, we were doing a lot more than just dating.” Azrael imparts lasciviously.
With this, he takes it upon himself to sit down, plonking himself so close to me that he’s practically in my lap.
“So what brings you here, Tyler?” He enquires.
I sit, dismayed that Azrael has come along and managed to monopolise my conversation with Tyler right under my nose. I’m on the brink of hyperventilation, blood boiling, temper rising, when Azrael decides to run his hand up my thigh, whilst still talking charmingly to Tyler. I don’t want to make a scene inside a public building so I grin and bear it, all the while wishing I was in possession of a very sharp fork. Tyler notes the redness of my face, the wildness of my eyes and enquires sincerely if I’m alright. His concern softens my angered state slightly and I tell him I have a headache, conscious that Azrael’s hand is reaching higher on my thigh, perilously close to discovering the effect that Tyler unconsciously has on my body. He offers to get me a glass of water and once he’s left the table, I turn to Azrael, ready to spit poison.
I’m about to wrench his hand off my thigh and impart some extremely colourful language when his hand cups the crotch of my jeans, finding my hardness and squeezes gently. Involuntarily I let out a gasp, caught between pleasure and disbelief; shocked that he has the audacity to touch me in so intimate a way.
“Only I can make you feel like this.” He intones, other hand slipping down the back of my jeans to press a finger at my tail bone. He caresses my sweet Şişli travesti spot and I bite my lip. He smiles wickedly. The bastard still knows how to push my buttons.
“Are you ready to admit you still want me?”
The finger at my tail bone moves lower. Involuntarily, I bite my lip harder.
“All you have to do is beg.”
All of a sudden, common sense prevails and the rational side of my brain kicks in. I extract Azrael’s hands away from my body and smile invitingly into his face, lulling him before I go for the jugular.
“Azrael, Azrael, Azrael.” I sigh dramatically, watching him smile encouragingly. “I find myself as emotionally attached to you as one would be to a prostitute with herpes, and quite frankly I’d sooner beg- as you so nicely put it- to lick a tramps balls than have you touch me ever again.” I narrow my eyes, dangerously. “Make no mistake, Azrael. You lost the right to make me feel anything but hatred for you the day you hit me. This is not for you.” I say contemptibly, indicating my crotch. “And it never will be again.”
I observe in silent satisfaction as the self-satisfied smirk on his face disappears and is instead replaced with outrage.
I smile innocently. “Is everything ok? It’s just that you’ve turned a nasty shade of puce.”
He pushes himself up from next to me like he’s been stung. I watch smugly as he tries to compose himself.
“I’ll get you back, Ares Luca.” He whispers, menacingly. “Whether it be through you or someone else.” He glances over at Tyler standing at the counter, smiling that same mischievous smile he gave me when he turned up on my doorstep three years ago.
“Don’t you dare, Azrael Young.” I warn.
His smile turns into a full blown grin.
“Oh. But I do, Snow White.”
With that he walks up to Tyler and says his goodbyes. I watch, livid, as he leans down to place a kiss on his cheek. Azrael offers me a wink on his way out and it’s all I can do not to launch myself out of my seat and rip his spine out. Tyler returns to the table.
“He seems friendly.”
I grunt in reply, still glowering at the door even though Azrael is long since gone.
Over the next few weeks I manage to forget about Azrael and his threat. Tyler and I forge an extremely close friendship, though frequently I recognise undercurrents of something else. Usually if I’m not in Tyler’s room, then Tyler’s in mine. We train together, competing fiercely to beat one another and maintain our edge. It’s at the end of one of our gym sessions that I realise Tyler reciprocates my more than friendly feelings towards him.
We’re both in the shower. I’m washing my face, lathering it with soap when I feel his hands at my back. For a moment I’m startled until I remember he’s in the shower with me. I stop washing my face and wait for him to make his next move. He pushes his hands around me and concentrates on washing my chest. His erection’s rubbing at my arse but I don’t turn around, instead letting him continue with his task. Soon enough his fingers focus their attention on my nipples and I push against him. This seems to break his trance because he moves away from my arse and moves his hand back to my shoulders. After a few seconds he moves away completely. I rinse off my face not daring to look at Tyler, though realising that he’s washing himself pretending that nothing’s happened. I follow suit and our friendship remains intact, though the undercurrents are stronger, making my mind and groin harder to control.
It all comes to head though, after another particularly gruelling session, this time running. We go to mine and collapse gasping onto the sofa.
“I won!” He crows excitedly, slate eyes twinkling. “Therefore, you owe me a massage.”
“But you cheated!” I shoot back, outraged but amused.
“Now, now.” He mocks disapprovingly, shaking his forefinger at me. “A deal’s a deal and nowhere in our bet did it say that I couldn’t have a head start.”
He grins at me roguishly and I get the distinct feeling that he’s done this on purpose, giving me the green light to act on all the hesitancy we’ve been exercising, too afraid to push the boundaries of our friendship.
I relent, “Fine, fine but next time, you have to give me a massage. Deal?”
“Deal.” He grins triumphantly at me, getting up. “I’m going to take a shower, first.”
“No!” His musk is arousing. “It’s ok. Shower later.”
He raises his eyebrows at me but doesn’t argue. Toned arms reach for the bottom of his shirt and he lifts it up over his head exposing his milky lean chest. I marvel at his torso, it reminding me of marble except for the light dusting of freckles. I get up and he lays full length on the sofa, face on folded hands and bum slightly raised. My mouth water slightly. I straddle his hips and get to work on his shoulders. My palms run over his deltoids, fingers spreading wide before coming back to complete the circle. I tease his trapezius muscles Taksim travesti with my thumbs and am rewarded with a low groan. Once I’ve soothed the tension out of those, I work my way down the smooth plane of his back, dragging a finger slowly down his spine. He shivers and groans again and I feel myself rise to attention.
I’ve reached the middle of his back, kneading and pressing, stroking and rubbing when he asks me to move lower. I do so hesitantly until I reach his tail bone and the gentle curve of his arse. I tease there for a time before pressing my thumbs to his spine and tracing them up towards his neck. All the while I lift my fingers slightly so that they only flutter over his skin, tantalising his flesh. His hips jerk, unwittingly pressing his arse into my groin. He freezes feeling the effect he has on me but when he doesn’t move I freeze too, thinking that I’ve gone too far.
However, after a few seconds have passed, he starts to move again, the rhythm of his hips more pronounced as he purposely pushes his arse into me. My fingers that had been so busy at his neck now work their way downwards, thumbs following the line of his spine until both are pressed into his tail bone and my hands are spanning the width of his back, reaching to the sides of his hips and holding him there. My hard cock now rests between his arse cheeks and I simply revel in the feeling until he speaks.
I don’t answer him with words; instead, rock my hips to the gentle sway of his own. We grind and groan, me pulling his hips into mine, him pushing them towards me. Soon our pace loses its gentleness, becoming frantic and I watch through hooded eyes as he reaches a hand down into his shorts and begins to stroke himself. I’m only vaguely aware, when one of my own hands leaves its grip on his hip and finds its way into his boxers, fingers wrapping around the head, encouraging more of his slippery precum. I graze the tip of a finger over his piss slit, smiling with glee when he lets out a whimper and pushes his arse furiously into my hardness.
I really want to fuck him but not on the sofa and not like this so I content myself with rocking between the beautiful peaks of his arse. I can feel him tighten up so I know he’s close. Increasing the speed of my own hips, I remove his hand from his cock, place it above his head with the other one and wrap my own fingers around him. He lets out a gurgle of pleasure. I smile and place a kiss on the back of his neck, hips still moving to our own private cadence. We’re gasping and moaning now, bodies soaked with sweat, precum leaking, both so very close. I feel our balls tighten simultaneously; we’re swaying on the cusp of orgasm, breathing harshly, when maddeningly there’s a knock at the door and we both freeze.
“Ares. There’s a package for you downstairs. If you don’t come and get it now, security is threatening to throw it away.”
I swear softly and extract myself from Tyler who lets out a disappointed moan.
“Sorry.” I whisper into his neck. “I’ll be back in a sec.
I’m coming.” I bellow to the person outside, then snicker to myself mirthlessly, realising how true that could have been a moment ago.
I leave the room, reluctantly, leaving a half naked Tyler still lying face down on the coach. Loping down the stairs, I have the misfortune of bumping into Azrael.
“Nice wet spot, Snow White.”
I’m flummoxed until he indicates the front of my shorts. Shit! I wince, turning red in mortification, noticing the patch of precum on the front of my shorts.
“You’ve been a naughty boy, Ares.” He taunts.
“Go get fucked.” I impart viciously.
He laughs. “Maybe I will.”
His laughter continues down the hall way, mocking me as I hitch my shorts up higher and pull down my scrunched t-shirt. I mutter furiously under my breath and make my way to the security office to collect my mail. After finally convincing the security guy that I was indeed Ares Luca as it said on the package, I manage to attain my package.
“Fucking retard!” I mutter irritably. Carnal images of Tyler fill my mind, once again arousing me so I race back to my room. Unfortunately on the way, I’m accosted by a friend from class, Jake. We exchange pleasantries but all while he’s talking, my frustration becomes more and more suffocating, my mind tortured with images of Tyler’s milky prone body, writhing beneath mine, him groaning in pleasure. I nod maniacally at Jake and I think he takes the hint that I’m distracted because he finishes his sentence and offers a hasty goodbye. Dismissing him almost immediately, I take the stairs two at a time, nearly breaking a toe in the process; such is my haste to reach my floor.
I reach for the handle, hearing a groan from the room. I smile, glad that he’s still heated for me.
Opening the door, the smile drops from my lips.
Azrael has taken my former position straddling Tyler’s hips, except now Tyler’s boxers are around his ankles. Gümüşsuyu travesti His hands are gripped above his head by one of Azrael’s, his face held down into the sofa by the other and Azrael is grinding his naked cock between his cheeks.
WHAT. THE FUCK. IS THIS?!?!?
I’m about to voice my thoughts when I hear Tyler give a desperate moan of my name.
Anger blends with confusion, clouding my mind until finally… I get it.
Azrael’s meeting me on the stairs, surmising what I’ve been up to and probably with whom. The threat at lunch coupled with the charged look at Tyler. He had actually meant it. The bastard had gone into my room, seen Tyler lying face down on the couch and had decided to take advantage. It must have been a bonus for him when he realised that Tyler wasn’t going to fight him soon as in his titillated state he simply thought it to be me returning. Azrael may be a couple inches taller than my 6″ 2 but we were still about the same weight.
Dangerously, fury fills my veins. I drop my package and let rip a savage cry before launching myself at Azrael. He barely manages to register that I’m in the room before I have him on his back on the floor, sending blows at his face and chest. I can vaguely hear Tyler shouting in the background but red is clouding my vision and all I see is Azrael. Azrael on Tyler, Azrael in Tyler. Letting out another ferocious cry and about to break the bastard’s stupid nose, Tyler drags me back.
“Ares, you’re going to kill him.” He presses his chest into my back and places a kiss on the same spot on the back of my neck where I kissed him. I calm instantly, the red haze lifting from my vision. Looking back to Azrael I assess the damage. His eye is swollen shut and there’s blood dripping slowly from a cut on his cheek and above his eyebrow. Though his lips are swollen, they aren’t split and for a second I’m actually disappointed that in my rage I haven’t inflicted more damage. After that I’m just plain mad.
“You stupid, pathetic, fucking bastard.” I snarl maliciously, despotizing him with my words. “You were going to rape him, weren’t you?”
I feel Tyler shudder behind me and his grip tightens.
Despite being nearly battered to death, Azrael still manages to be an arsehole.
“I’d hardly call it rape.” He retaliates sarcastically. “He was practically begging for it. Writhing and moaning under me like a bitch in heat.”
I nearly lose it again but Tyler keeps me in check, whispering firmly into my ear that though justified in this case, murder is still illegal. I decide to ignore his last comment, offering him only the full measure of how much I despise him.
“I want you out of this room and out of my life.” I retort lividly. “And if you so much as touch him again- Actually, no. If you so much as look at him or me for that matter in the wrong way again, I will not hesitate to kill you.”
Maybe it’s the way I’m snarling or the set of my face but I mange to penetrate his cool facade and he flinches. He drags himself up off the floor and makes for the door.
Still defiant he mutters, “This isn’t over Snow White.”
I stand up and practically hiss at him, “Oh, but it is.” I slam the door and press my forehead to it, sighing heavily.
Tyler puts a hand on my shoulder and instantly I turn around, face buried in his neck, hugging him hard enough that he starts gasping for air.
“I’m sorry.” I murmur into his neck.
He takes my face in his hands and we share our first kiss. Lips melding, his tongue licks lightly at my lips before I open my mouth and he gains entry, tentatively running his tongue over my teeth to duel with my own. I respond hungrily, pushing my fingers into his fiery hair, massaging his tongue with my own. We stay like this for a few more seconds before he gives a final suck of my tongue and we pull apart for breath.
“Wow!” I bluster breathlessly.
He grins widely. “You don’t have to be sorry, Ares. I’m just glad you came back when you did, otherwise Azrael would be six feet under right now and you’d be occupying a certain 8 by 8 room, wearing a very unflattering jumpsuit.”
I laugh but I’m thinking of the other consequence of what may have happened if I didn’t return in time; the one he doesn’t seem to be talking about. Tyler can read me so very well and he places a hand on my cheek.
“It didn’t happen, Ares. Don’t torment yourself thinking what may have happened. I don’t want to think about it ever again and I want you to do the same. The thought’s enough to twist my guts and make me retch.”
I watch as he balks slightly in recollection.
I promise not to bring it up again.
“So….” He starts, “Do you still want to…?”
He blushes; his face matching the same colour as his hair. I run my fingers through it, a bit surprised that he still wants to continue from where we left off.
“Are you sure? I mean after Azrael and …?”
He nods and offers me his hand. I take it hesitantly before leading him to the bedroom.
“You done this before?” I question.
“Once or twice but not with anyone I really liked.”
“Do you like me?” I ask, humour lacing my voice.
“Is the sky blue?” He shoots back, making me laugh.
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