Daddy [mxm]

18

At this point, I'm fully expecting to wake up from a frustrating fever dream. But this is real; this is happening. My best friend's heated eyes are flickering over my face like I'm the hottest thing he's ever seen.

Hot enough to destroy a family, the voice in my head chides. No, two families. And, much to my own surprise as well as Bret's, stinging tears well up in my eyes.

Bret is instantly stricken with remorse, clutching my head in his hands. My nose feels hot.

"Shh... It's okay. It was too much, I'm sorry..."

A few drops slip out, portending a blustery downpour.

I shake my head. Yes, I'm overwhelmed, but it's not that. "What's wrong, huh?" Bret lifts my chin, concerned eyes boring into mine. My vision blurs.

"I-I don't wanna be that person anymore..." I trail off feebly. My ears are wet from trailing tears, damp strands of hair clinging to my face. "I don't wanna be the reason...your relationship-"

"No, Evan, no." Bret shakes his head vehemently, thumbing at my blubbery lips. "It's not like that, I swear to you. I made my decision alone. I deliberately didn't talk to you about it. Whatever happened, whatever happens, it's on me."

This calms me somewhat, but my body is still wracked by the aftershocks of silent sobs. "Darling, I can't explain..." Bret struggles to find the words. "I wish I could explain what's going on inside me better. But you know I suck with words. What happened with my engagement just isn't your fault, trust me on that."

"It is," I sniffle.

Bret emits a displeased sound.

"It's not."

"I'm just wrecking homes, like I always do..." The news is going to give his parents a heart attack. And the court might give the baby to someone else. And all of his friends are going to wonder, what is he doing, throwing everything away?! He deserves better than his father's used goods; he should be with Sammy.

"Let me kiss you," Bret urges, bringing our faces together. There's a tremor in his fingers, an artifact of the explosive internal emotions barely contained under his skin. "Let me show you why I had to do it. I don't know how else to...articulate it."

I stare at the plump, pink line of flesh with a tightening stomach, so close that his breath is hot on my own lips. "C'mon, man." Bret's hands frame my face. "I finally had the balls to tell you what I felt..." He strokes my cheek.

The prospect of kissing a brother shouldn't be so enticing, and yet, something about kissing Bret makes me nervous and excited.

Heat pools in my lower belly as Bret leans even closer. His hands brush along my cheekbone, jaw, chin. It's suddenly so fucking hard to breathe. "Haven't you played with me enough?" Bret whispers.

Once is enough. Twice is too much, definitely asking for complications...

Don't think about it too much.

Muzzling the voice in my head, I grab the collar of Bret's shirt. Rationality can take a long hike.

"Do it, then," I whisper, "coward," and give him what he's always deserved.

The way Bret swoops down, capturing my lips, frightens me momentarily. He comes onto me like a bear in heat; my body instinctively shrinks away. But he's not having it, his mouth chasing mine and his weight bearing me firmly into the mattress, muffling my yelp of surprise.

Our mouths slot together in a searing, all-consuming moment of crushing pressure, and the room instantly fuzzes out into static. He slides one hand up the nape of my neck, cradling it, and kisses me deeply. Testament to his desperation, Bret's tongue starts exploring the warm, wet cavern of my mouth almost immediately; he can't get close enough. The tension suddenly bleeds out of my shoulders. My hand comes to rest on his clothed back; the tremor of excitement I sense under his skin makes me shiver in response. Our tongues entwine in a long, slow, heated dance. Each little noise is amplified, the soft smacking sounds of our lips, the little gasps, the tortured breaths.