SEQUEL TO CHECKMATE. However, you can read this as a stand-alone spin-off, BUT it will make so much more sense if you read Checkmate first.
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To put it briefly, Zedd is a homophobic asshole. His popularity is largely thanks to being a soccer jock...
A/N: well well well, welcome ladies and gentlemen and nonbinaries, to the moment you've all been waiting for. This is a HUGE chapter, you're welcome. 😉
☢️ Warning: this chapter is MATURE. This means GRAPHIC description of male genitalia and bxb action. You have been warned. Skip if not your thing, hold onto your seatbelts if it is. Enjoy the little preview gif. 😏
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Zedd (im sure we all want this from his pov hehe)
My heart was thudding so hard in my chest as Mitch drove us back to my house. My fingers were shaking as I removed my helmet, neither of us saying a word. He followed me up the steps and through the front door as I unlocked it. My mum had cleaned up the dining room since that fateful night that sent me to hospital. We climbed up the stairs to my room, still in silence. I couldn't think straight and didn't know how to verbalise anything. I still felt hot all over and I could barely breathe past my apprehension and excitement at what could happen if I let Mitch do whatever he wanted to me. I would be lying if I said I had never pondered what it would be like to be with a man during my sleepless nights since our changing room incident.
"Zedd," Mitch spoke up as we crossed my bedroom doorway, "Are you going to say something?"
"I dunno," I shrugged, swallowing past my nerves, "I don't really feel like talking."
"Hmmm," he hummed, placing his hands on my hips behind me, "I feel like talking... with my hands."
I shivered as I felt his warm breath caress the back of my neck. I froze as he pressed his lips gently against the side of my neck. Suddenly his presence behind me disappeared so I turned around to look at him.
"Are you okay with that?" Mitch said lowly about his previous statement as he shut my bedroom door and turned the lock.
I gulped as he stared me down with a dirty gaze. I stood frozen in semi panic as he strode back towards me.
"We don't have to do anything," he murmured gently, stroking my cheek with the back of his hand.
I looked into his beautiful caramel eyes and all I saw was desire and apprehension and hope. I realised he was as freaked out as me about what was happening, and that made me feel better. I looked over his handsome face, his sculpted jawline, down to his Adam's apple and muscular shoulders. The truth was, I did want him. More than I would ever dare admit. And I was struggling to communicate this with Mitch.
I knew I had messed up a lot of stuff between us already, and I knew he wouldn't take lead without me being explicit in my wishes. I was both glad of his respectfulness and dissatisfied. And now, I was more sexually frustrated than I had ever been in my entire life. I let myself recall the image of Mitch's long brown fingers wrapped around my cock. It was long ago but I never was able to get rid of that memory. My dick twitched in my pants. I bit my lip, looking back up at Mitch. Fuck this.
