Owen leaned his elbows against the table, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, his gaze flickering over the crowd out of habit more than interest. He wasn’t here to pick up—he was supposed to be mingling with old friends from High School. It was the kind of pseudo-reunion that tended to happen around holidays and weddings or funerals when people come back to town. The fresh faces usually help to numb the discomfort of seeing the same old people who stuck around after graduation. People he didn’t even like back then, less so now when they were adults and somehow stupider. He was here to enjoy a drink or two and an overpriced appetizer while killing some time with an old friend or two. The restaurant lights were too dim and the thrum of some forgotten rock song playing over the speakers was too loud. Still, every one of his senses perked up when the door swung open and he walked in.
Liam.
Fuck.
Owen’s fingers tightened around his glass. He hadn’t seen him in more than eight years—not since high school, when they’d been inseparable, when Owen had spent entire summers glued to his side, heart pounding every time Liam laughed. Back then, he hadn’t understood the heat in his gut, the way his pulse spiked when Liam flexed his arms lifting weights in his garage, the sweat glistening on his skin. He’d just known he wanted to be near him, always.
Now, though? Now he knew exactly what that tightness in his chest had meant.
He’d learned all about it in college, those brief and happy years when he managed to escape this town for a bit. Before that, he hadn’t known sex with men was an option for him. Not until his big from the frat he'd joined pulled him into his room and showed him how men pleasure each other. That shitty room in that shitty house became a palace of pleasure for them that semester.
Then his big had graduated and he’d fucked any man he could. And that had landed him back here.
He figured most people knew about what happened. That’s how small town gossip went. He’d been a Junior, still young and stupid, when he’d been caught balls deep in his TA before a midterm exam. If either one of them had been a girl it would’ve worked out different but the school had no place for them after that. As far as he knew, the TA transferred to a graduate program in a more progressive state and he’d been booted back home. And here he was all those years later.
It hadn’t been that bad. He’d gotten a good job and housing was cheap here so last year he’d bought a little house and was fixing it up. Plus, being the town queer meant all the DL men came to him with their curiosities. Usually they expected him to be their bitch but he found a certain pleasure in turning that back on the closeted men of this town.
All that to say, he was still fucking around, looking for something more. And if he was being honest with himself, he was looking for something like the connection he’d had with Liam back in the day. That’s why he’d sought the fraternity of his frat brothers in college and why a meaningless hookup never seemed to satisfy him.
Liam hadn’t spotted him yet. He was scanning the room, running a hand through his perfectly quaffed hair. It was darker than it used to be but Owen recognized the same nervous tic he’d had back then, always fussing with his hair even when he’d buzzed it all off back in eighth grade. Owen took the opportunity to drink him in. He’d filled out since their school days, shoulders broader, jaw sharper, the lean swim-team physique replaced with something harder, more defined. His jeans were slung low on his hips, hugging tight to an ass that had definitely plumped up since the last time he’d made some bro-y excuse to slap it. The black henley clung to his chest, the sleeves stretched tight around his biceps, and Owen’s mouth went dry imagining what it would feel like to dig his fingers into that muscle, to pull him close and—
He shifted on his stool, the denim of his jeans suddenly too tight. Down, boy. This wasn’t some random hookup at the bar. This was Liam. There was a wave of greetings as people welcomed him to the table with hugs and shoulder squeezes.
Before he could decide whether to slip out unnoticed, Liam’s gaze landed on him. A slow, disbelieving smile spread across his face. “Owen?”
Owen forced a grin, lifting his glass in a half-assed salute. “Long time.”
Liam didn’t hesitate. He circled the long table in a few strides, sliding into the chair some girl from his tenth grade chemistry class had abandoned beside him with an ease that made Owen’s stomach flip. “No shit. What’re you doing back in town?”
“I’ve been back a few years now.” Owen took a sip of his whiskey, the burn doing little to distract him from the heat of Liam’s thigh pressed against his. “You?”
“Oh yeah, I’d heard you were back but I figured you would’ve found your way out again by now. I never knew someone so excited to leave this place.” Owen flinched at that. So Liam knew what had happened and he knew he was still a failure, stuck in this place. Yet, here he was, next to him. For the moment.
“I’m in town for a few weeks, my dad is wanting me to move back and take over the store, but I’m still deciding,” Liam’s knee bounced, restless. “God, it’s been—what, eight years?”
“Nine.” Owen’s voice came out rougher than he intended. He cleared his throat. “You look good.”
Liam’s cheeks flushed, just slightly, and Owen’s cock twitched. Fuck, he was still so easy to read. “You too.”
The silence that followed was thick, charged. Owen should’ve made small talk—asked about his job, his life, anything to break the tension. But all he could think about was the way Liam’s lips parted when he was surprised, the way his breath hitched when Owen had leaned in too close back in the day, testing boundaries neither of them had understood.
Before he could stop himself, he reached out, brushing his thumb over the back of Liam’s hand where it rested on the table. Liam’s breath caught. His fingers curled, not pulling away, but not quite gripping Owen’s either. Interesting.
This was risky with so many people around. If Liam made a scene, that’d be a stain he’d never wipe out of the memory of this town. Just talking to him was probably enough for people to gossip about him trying to fuck his childhood friend. They wouldn’t be wrong.
Owen leaned in, dropping his voice to a low murmur. “You ever think about it? Back then?”
Liam’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Think about what?”
“How close we were.” Owen’s thumb traced slow circles over his skin. “How much time we spent together. All those nights in your room, pretending we were just hanging out.”
A shiver ran through Liam. His gaze darted to Owen’s mouth, then back up, dark and hungry. “I—yeah. Sometimes. I miss those days. A lot.”
Owen’s pulse spiked. He feels it too. He didn’t let himself overthink it. In one smooth motion, he slid off his chair, grabbing Liam’s wrist and pulling him toward the back of the restaurant, toward the single-stall bathroom with the broken lock. Liam didn’t resist. His steps were unsteady, but he followed, letting Owen push him inside and flip the lock before pressing him against the door.
This wasn’t the first time this bathroom had been used for rushed sexual encounters. Owen had a brief memory of Mr. Casey, a local insurance agent that like to put his face on billboards and bus stops, on his knees sucking him off in this very place last year.
The second the door clicked shut, Owen was on him. His hands cupped Liam’s face, tilting it up, and he crashed their mouths together. Liam gasped, but then he was kissing back, desperate and clumsy, like he’d been waiting years for this. His fingers dug into Owen’s hips, pulling him flush against him, and he groaned at the feel of Liam’s hardening cock pressing against his own.
“Fuck, Liam,” Owen growled against his lips. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”
Liam whimpered, his hips rolling, seeking friction. “Show me.”
Owen didn’t need to be told twice.
He dropped to his knees, the linoleum cold against his skin, and yanked at Liam’s belt. His friend—no, not just his friend, not anymore—was already hard, the outline of his cock straining against his jeans. Owen freed him with a rough tug, wrapping his fingers around the thick, flushed length. Liam hissed, his head thunking back against the door.
“O-Owen—”
“Shh,” Owen didn’t give him time to argue. He licked a slow stripe up the underside of Liam’s cock, savoring the way his thighs trembled. Then he took him in, deep, until the head hit the back of his throat.
Liam’s hands flew to Owen’s hair, gripping tight. “Fuck—fuck—”
Owen hollowed his cheeks, pulling back before plunging down again, his lips stretched obscenely around Liam’s girth. He could taste the salt of precome, the musk of him, and it made his own cock ache. But this wasn’t about him. Not yet. He wanted Liam wrecked. He wanted him begging.
He pulled off with a wet pop, stroking the spit-slick length. “You ever let a man touch you, Liam?”
Liam shook his head, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “N-no. Just—just you.”
Owen’s grip tightened. “Good.” He nipped at the sensitive skin of Liam’s inner thigh, making him jerk. “Because I’m gonna be the first. Gonna make you feel so fucking good you won’t remember why you waited.”
Liam moaned, his hips twitching. Owen didn’t make him wait. He throated his dick with the expertise of years of turning straight cock. One hand held firmly onto his hip keeping him pinned against the door. He could feel how badly Liam wanted to thrust into his warm, wet mouth, but Owen was in control here and he wanted to assistance in getting him off. His other hand wandered up under that sexy black henley.
Damn, his friend had gotten so sexy in the years since they’d last met. The breathing above him was getting tighter and Liam was practically whimpering at the onslaught of tongue and throat around his dick. He was getting close.
Owen shoved his jeans down a little further to give his hand enough room to play with his balls. They tightened up at the contact, rewarding Owen with a sweet burst of precome on his tongue. He slipped his hand further back, fingers applying just the right amount of pressure on his taint. He kept sliding back, slowly, so slowly. He’d barely touched the puckered entrance when Liam exploded in his mouth with a sob.
Owen drank him down before standing up and adjusting his own dick in his pants. Now that he’d come, Liam would probably come to his senses and realize they’d gone too far. That’s how it went with men experimenting for the first time.
When he’d first moved back to town, Owen had messed around with one of their old classmates. Tom had been an All State wrestler two years ahead of them. The man was shorter and carried the compact musculature of a light weight champ. He’d had a good college wrestling career but once he’d graduated, he had found a wife and moved back to town where he was now a history teacher and coach at the middle school. Tom had started saying hello to him at the gym and that lead to longer conversations between sets and then to casual eye contact as they dressed in the locker room.
He’d blown him in the showers one day and then hadn’t seen him for months. Tom rearranged his whole work out schedule to avoid him. Owen remembered how it hurt at the time. The hope of sex and connection with a man and then immediate rejection.
Tom showed back up at the gym one day like nothing had ever happened. They’d chatted about their workout and the he’d followed Owen into the locker room. Owen didn’t bother showering. He’d thrown his stuff in his bag and nodded his head for Tom to follow him out.
Owen had fucked him angry in the back of his truck. Shoving Tom's chest into the bench seat as he bred him from behind. Afterwards, Tom had pulled up his short, thanked him and trotted away to his car. Another few months passed before they found themselves back there again. The come stains on Owen’s back seat were a constant reminder.
He needed to get out of here before Liam could throw this back in his face too. But when he reached for the door, Liam grabbed his wrist. His thumb rubbing over his pulse point like a kiss.
“Wait, what about you?”
Owen searched his eyes for the rejection he’d expected, not finding it. He’d give his friend one last out.
“Go back out there and hang out with the group, I’ll go out the back door. When you’re done, swing by my house. I’ll text you my address. What’s your number?”
“The same as always,” Liam grinned and Owen shuttered at the memory of how that smile always made him feel like he was the most important thing in the world. He looked away.
“Here, I’ll go first.” And with that he slipped out the door and made a beeline for the exit. He got around to the dumpsters before he keeled over and let out a sob. This was everything he’d ever wanted and he hadn’t been brave enough to say it out loud back there. If Liam decided he didn’t want this and just didn’t show, it might kill him. But at least he’d have some sort of closure.
He pulled out his phone and found his last message from Liam. Sometime five or six years ago after his life had fallen apart.
Liam: Dude! I heard your back in town. I’ll be around next week, come by my house sometime and we can chill. Just like old times!
How would his life be different if he’d just replied, if he’d met up, if he’d told him the truth he’d learned about himself. Fuck that, the self pity could wait.
Owen: Here’s the address. You can park in the driveway, I’ll leave the front door unlocked.
Owen had only been home a few minutes when he heard the creak of the front door from his kitchen. He hadn’t even had time to decide Liam wasn’t coming so he didn’t have a chance to be surprised.
“Dude, nice place you got here!” His low voice thrummed through the walls and straight to Owen’s dick.
He walked out to meet his friend in the front room and pulled him into another searing kiss before he could turn around and walk out of his life.
“I hope you know what you’re getting into.”
Liam gave him a shy smile, “I’m not but I was kinda hoping you could show me.”
Owen spun him around, pressing his chest to the door, and yanked his jeans and boxers down to his knees. Liam’s ass was perfect—round, somehow tanner than Owen got at the height of summer, the muscles flexing as Owen spread him open with his thumbs.
“Jesus,” Liam muttered, “you don’t waste any time, now do you?”
Owen leaned in. He dragged his tongue over Liam’s hole, slow and deliberate, and Liam cried out, his fingers scrambling against the door.
“Oh FUCK!”
Owen chuckled darkly, breathing hot air over the wet skin. They didn’t have time to make to the bedroom or even the couch across the room. He threw his arm across the end table nearest them to clear a space before pushing Liam onto his back.
“Please, Owen–”
“Please what?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He spread his legs and licked him again, giving his ass a few slaps to watch the way it jiggled. Owen was mesmerized by it. He spat, rubbing the slickness over Liam’s entrance before pressing one finger inside. “You want my fingers?”
Liam’s body clenched around him, tight and virgin-hot. “Fuck—more—”
Owen added a second finger, scissoring them, stretching him. “You’re gonna take my cock so good, Liam. Gonna fuck you right here, make you scream.” He curled his fingers, pegging Liam’s prostate, and Liam’s knees nearly buckled. “That’s it. That’s the spot.”
“Nngh—Owen, I can’t—” Liam’s voice was raw, his cock dripping, his ass pushing back against Owen’s fingers like he was starving for it.
Owen stood, pressing his own aching length against Liam’s ass. He reached forward, gripping Liam’s cock, stroking in time with the thrust of his fingers. “You can. You will.” He bit at Liam’s ear. “You’ve been waiting for this as long as I have. Admit it.”
Liam whimpered, his head falling back against the wall. “Yes—yes—”
Owen groaned, his free hand fumbling with his own jeans. He needed inside him. Now. But first—
He pulled his fingers free, ignoring Liam’s broken protest, and dropped back to his knees. He grabbed Liam’s hips, yanking him back, and buried his face between his cheeks. His tongue speared into Liam’s hole, fucking him with it, and Liam’s cries filled the tiny entryway, his cock leaking against his flat stomach.
“Owen—I’m gonna come again—”
“Do it.” Owen’s voice was muffled against his skin. “Come for me, Liam. Show me how bad you want my cock.”
Liam’s body locked up, his cock pulsing as ropes of come splattered across his chest. Owen didn’t stop, licking and fingering him through it, until Liam was a trembling, oversensitive mess.
Only then did Owen stand, kicking his jeans the rest of the way off. He grabbed Liam’s hip, lining himself up. “You ready?”
Liam nodded frantically, his forehead pressed to the door. “Yes—fuck, yes—”
Owen didn’t tease. He pushed in, slow but relentless, watching as Liam’s hole stretched around him, swallowing him inch by inch. The heat was incredible, the tightness almost painful, and when he bottomed out, Liam let out a broken, needy sound that went straight to Owen’s aching balls.
“Fuck, you feel amazing,” Owen groaned, his hands gripping Owen’s hips hard enough to bruise. He pulled back, then snapped his hips forward, driving deep. “Told you I’d make you feel good.”
Liam could only moan in response, his body already tightening around Owen again. Owen set a brutal pace, fucking him hard, the slap of skin echoing off the tiled walls. Every thrust made Liam gasp, his cock twitching back to life despite the mess already drying on his golden skin.
“Gonna come inside you,” Owen grunted, his balls drawing up. “Gonna fill you up, Liam. Make you mine.”
“Yes—please—” Liam’s voice was a wrecked whisper. “Want it—want you—”
That was all Owen needed. He buried himself to the hilt and came, his release tearing through him as he pumped Liam full, his hips stuttering. Liam clenched around him, milking him, his own cock spurting another weak orgasm that leaked down into a puddle on his stomach.
For a long moment, they stayed like that—Owen slumped over Liam’s back, both of them breathing in the smell of sweat and sex. Then Owen placed one last kiss on his forehead before he pulled out slowly, his come dripping from Liam’s well-used hole.
Liam’s hand caught his before he could fully disconnect their bodies and intertwined their fingers. “That was…”
“A long time coming,” Owen whispered. He reached down, tucking himself back into his jeans before helping Liam up off the table. “For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t mind if you moved back to town.”
Liam’s smile was soft, satisfied, but his eyes burned with promise. “Yeah. Me neither.”
