The Friendship Equation Page 4

  "Vance."

  I spun to find Harden standing there. "What are you doing here?" My cheeks felt red like he'd caught me doing something I shouldn't be.

  "I'm always here this early."

  Right. He had a study hall this period. I'd forgotten.

  "What are you doing here this early?” he asked.

  "I finished my test, and my teacher let me go." I pulled at my collar, sweat prickling on the back of my neck.

  He took a step into my space. "Why so nervous?"

  "Stop being creepy." I playfully went to shove him, but he grabbed my wrist.

  "You're the one being cagey." He tightened his grip.

  "I'm not being cagey. I didn't expect you here; I'm surprised."

  "Why?" He dropped his gaze down my form slowly, appraising me.

  "Because I just didn't." I tried to laugh it off, but I didn't even buy it. "It was a long day."

  "Long as fuck,” he agreed with an edge to his tone.

  "Why was it long for you?" I glanced between his grip on my hand and his face, still not sure what this even was.

  "I bet not for the same reason," he muttered, releasing me and stepping back.

  "Is everything okay?"

  His eyes snapped back to mine. "Why do you ask?"

  "Because you said your day was long and probably not for the same reason." I tilted my head. "Did you expect me not to ask?"

  He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck but stayed silent. A soft smile formed on his lips, the one that only came out when he was deep in thought. I'd have killed to be able to read his mind.

  "If you don't want to talk about it…” I cut myself off not sure what to say.

  He lifted his shoulders and shook his head.

  "You're holding back." He had to be. It was the only explanation that made sense.

  "Yes." So matter of fact but without any more information.

  "And you don't want to tell me."

  "I haven't decided if I should."

  My brow ticked up. "I thought we told each other everything."

  "I thought so too." His words dropped to a whisper, reminding me anyone could walk in at any moment.

  My heart rate sped up on edge with anticipation. "Tell me, please."

  He let my words hang in the air, eyes roving my face. "I want to see you naked, Van."

  I choked. Spit right down my windpipe, making my body explode into a massive fit of coughing, like it thought if it didn't expel every particle that second, I'd die.

  Harden waited until I got myself under control. "You okay?"

  I glanced around, listening, waiting for someone to enter. To check on me. To have heard any part of this conversation. But only the ceiling fans buzzed in the background.

  “Fine. Okay…" Everything inside me tightened like a coil that would snap any minute. “When?”

  He glanced around before dropping his attention to my jeans. "Now?"

  "You want me to whip it out right here in the locker room where anyone could walk in?” I hardened as I spoke. I hated and loved the idea all at the same time.

  "Yes, Van. Do you have an issue with that?" he asked, rubbing his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

  "Anyone could walk in,” I said again.

  “And?” He stepped closer, putting a hand on my chest to back me into the locker. "I'll shield you."

  "Okay." What was I doing? My brain flipped into overdrive, but now that I'd said yes...

  "May I?" He brushed the backs of his knuckles down my fly.

  I nodded, swallowing hard. He popped my button, looking into my eyes while he did. I'd never wanted to kiss someone so bad in my entire life. But what if he wasn't into it? He might be okay fucking me, but kissing might be off the table. He tugged down my zipper, and my heart skipped a beat.

  "I've never touched another dick like this. Just my own," he mused under his breath, hooking a finger in my boxers.

  "Me either."

  He slipped a finger in the elastic of my boxer briefs, leaning closer and putting his forehead right near my lips, hair falling in his face. He paused, and I had no idea what he waited for.

  "Are you hard, Van?" he asked.

  "Yes." Painfully so.

  His lips curled up. "Good."

  "Why?" I asked.

  “I don’t know. I guess—it feels good knowing I do this to you."

  What he didn't know was he did this to everyone. There was no resisting his charm.

  Using his other hand, he pushed down my jeans some, giving him more room to work. Here it was. The moment of truth. It could decide forever if he never wanted to see another cock.

  Maybe he'd back out of the whole thing.

  I didn't dare move.

  The door threw open, and chattering kids echoed in the tiled room. Harden released his hold on me, hands falling to his sides. We were tucked back in the far corner where the seniors always had their lockers, so we wouldn't be seen unless someone ventured all the way back and around the corner, but if kids were showing up, that meant classes were getting out, and the whole locker room would be filled soon.

  "We should change," he said, keeping his eyes on my hard-on still concealed by my boxers.

  “Yeah,” I agreed, trying to zip myself back into my jeans when all I wanted to do was beg him to touch me.

  He searched my face before turning to change.

  Goddamn it. "Harden..."

  "Later." The word was laced in promise.

  He didn't give me a second glance. It sucked he could turn it all off so easily. Like it was all a game to him. I tried my best not to look—I didn't want it to come off like I was staring—but it did hurt. He’d gone from his hands that close to my dick to laughing and shooting the shit with the rest of the guys on the team.

  I got in our lane, thinking it was dead for the moment. We finished our warmup, and he slipped in front of me to grab his water bottle. A normal thing, but his fingers skimmed the line of my suit.

  My eyes bulged, and I glared at him when he turned around.

  His lips curled into a smirk. “What?”

  “You know.” My words were so low, the rest of the lane probably couldn’t hear.

  “No clue.” He reached between us and brushed his fingers over my cock. “Let’s get to it.” Before I could react or say something he took off, starting our next set.

  My nails dug into my palm, waiting the five seconds before taking off after him. The best or worst part about swimming was the sheer amount of time to think. How could he so easily play with everyone around? Was he not worried about other people figuring it out? Or maybe he thought they’d just assume it was our normal flirting.

  He kept shooting me these looks between sets, though. We'd stop, out of breath and flushed, and his eyes found mine. They'd drift from my lips to my throat and lower to where my hips met the water. I'd never felt naked in front of my teammates, but today, I was laid bare to Harden.

  He'd been half a second away from seeing my dick. Did he regret it? Was he deciding if I was attractive? I hated not being able to tell why he stared. I couldn't stop the spiral in my mind.

  I'd known Harden most of my life, all his secrets, all his worries, and in the last twenty-four hours, he'd turned into a stranger. He chatted with another guy in our lane, drinking from his bottle, staring right at me as he poured water into his mouth. I felt the long looks in my dick. I'd never been so happy my body was too exhausted from swimming to even think about a hard-on.

  “Thirsty?” I asked when I couldn’t take it anymore, not sure if my flush was from the workout of the eye-fucking he subjected me to.

  “Always.”

  I ground my teeth, taking the bait and reaching between us to ghost my fingers over his dick. Brazen, braver than I’d ever been. “Me too.” But I didn’t take off like he had, I stayed there face to face with him, the challenge in my eyes.

  “Good. I prefer you this way, Vance.” He grabbed my wrist, and something flashed in his eyes.

 
; What would he do right here in front of our whole team? Surely nothing.

  Coach started yelling, and he released his hold on me, turning toward him instead. Shit. I could have exploded with frustration.

  Practice finally ended, and I dragged myself off the pool deck, barely able to walk. We’d swam miles and miles. The flirting had been a welcome distraction, but now I ached. I wanted to bathe in tiger balm then eat every single carb in sight before crawling into bed for a month.

  I could barely walk, and every part of me ached. And there would be no reprieve for weeks. Collapsing onto the bench, I blew my cheeks out and closed my eyes, debating sleeping right in front of my locker.

  I'd shower at home. I was too tired to do it now.

  "You okay there?"

  I opened one eye to find Harden too close for comfort. "I'll be fine in a few minutes."

  "I feel great." He raised his arms over his head in a stretch, and I was really glad he wasn't naked.

  I forced myself to look away, all the flirting from practice gone again. “Not all of us are robots, Harden."

  "It's a good thing too. I think I like you less metal."

  "Please. Clearly they did a good job with skin-like textures on you."

  "This is why we aren't doing it tonight.” Harden cracked a smile. "I need you awake."

  "Need me awake?" My brows rose.

  "I'm into the other party participating." He leaned in closer, giving a cursory side eye to make sure no one was paying attention to us. "I get off on getting people off."

  “I thought you didn’t need anything until this weekend?” My voice hitched, and I didn’t care. It was too tired to hide anything at the moment.

  “Waiting doesn’t mean nothing.” He paused then said, “I knew you’d be tired.”

  I nearly choked again. "You couldn't predict I'd be like this." Now that was all I would think about.

  "You act like this is the first swim season I've seen you in." He took a seat on the bench next to me. “But if you’re tired…”

  “Are you suggesting we don’t hang out?" I asked like we didn't hang out every single day.

  "Can you handle hanging out?" He slid a hand into his jammers to adjust.

  My eyes followed before realizing what I was doing. I cleared my throat. "Of course."

  "So easily distractible." He pulled his hand out of the skintight material. "I don't believe you."

  "It's not my fault you're all brazen about what you're doing." I pushed my fingers into my hair, trying to ignore my bottom half.

  "No? It's not your fault? I could have sworn..."

  "What?" I asked under my breath, knowing this was the worst possible place to have this conversation, kids all around us.

  "You asked me,” he said with such nonchalance no one could have guessed what he meant. “And then in the pool?”

  "I did." The words burned into my brain. “But you started that today.”

  "So wouldn't it be your fault?"

  “Partly.” The word came forced and harder than I'd meant it.

  "But you can't handle it?"

  "I need a shower." I pushed to my feet and turned on my heel. I hadn’t planned to, but I needed the space. A total retreat and not my usual style, but sometimes the best move in a battle.

  Harden didn't follow me, and I stayed under the spray much longer than I should have. Most kids went home to shower in the afternoon because it was easier. We were usually the last ones out of the locker room because Harden had to wait for his brother to finish practice, giving us time to sit around.

  When I returned to our lockers, the room was silent. Harden was dressed, sitting on his phone. He'd skipped a shower after giving me shit about doing the same? Maybe he knew I needed it. But this meant he'd smell like chlorine the rest of the night. I groaned at the thought. I loved the scent.

  "Taking your time on purpose?" he asked.

  "Yes," I admitted.

  "Why?"

  If he didn't already know that, how could I explain it to him without making things uncomfortable? Hey buddy, I know we are best friends, but all I've thought of today is fucking you.

  “Because…well, you’re—overwhelming.”

  His brows ticked up, but he didn't immediately reply. The silence echoed around us, becoming painful.

  "Is this good overwhelming or bad?" he asked at length.

  "Yes."

  He glared at me. "Did you reconsider what I asked earlier?"

  I swallowed again. My body seemed to think it was fine to just mass produce saliva while in Harden's vicinity. “I already said yes."

  “You might have changed your mind.” He laughed. "Jesus, is today going to be pulling teeth?"

  "Probably also yes. I'm just full of yes today." I scrubbed a hand over my face. "I did pre-warn you I wasn't good at any of this stuff."

  He put his hand on my hip and tugged me closer. “Can I see then?"

  "Yes, of course you can still see me naked. That hasn't changed. I didn't think we were going to have sex in the dark. So it's kind of necessary."

  "Good, because I hate having sex in the dark. Any person who makes you turn out the lights hates their own body and that comes with so many complications. Both parties have more fun when there is no shame." He rubbed a circle over my hip.

  "You sound like an after school special."

  He rolled his eyes. "I don't think we will have that problem, will we, Finch?"

  "No, not at all." I pressed into his touch, the feeling so intoxicating I nearly forgot where we were. "When?"

  "No time like the present." His hands were already back on my suit, eyes alight with…something.

  Desire? Maybe.

  My heart picked up speed. "Now?"

  “You were going to let me earlier.” He hooked his fingers into the spandex. "We're alone."

  "Okay," I said, breathless, my dick hardening at the very idea of being so close to his face.

  He inched my suit down, exposing just the base of my cock and the dark red hair there. "I've wondered," he muttered, sliding lower.

  My cock thickened as he pulled the suit down, getting bigger by the second, pleasure lancing through me as the cold, silky material slid over me.

  "Jesus," he said as he exposed all of me. "You've been hiding this?”

  "I wasn't exactly hiding it." My face burned, and my mouth went dry as I fed off his admiration in a strange way. The way he looked at me was entirely intoxicating. “I change out here.”

  “You’re all secretive like. You've seen me naked loads." He brushed the back of his fingers down my length, making my cock jump.

  "You're not shy. I think everyone's seen you naked."

  "Fair." He licked his lips, and I barely resisted the urge to squirm. "Can I?"

  What was he asking permission for? I had no idea, but it didn't matter; my mouth was already forming the word. "Yes."

  He wrapped his fingers around my base and stroked. Once. Twice. Three times before standing up, bringing us hip to hip, and face to face. "You're longer than I am. But not as thick."

  "Oh?" Was all I could manage. What did you even say to that?

  Holy shit. Was he about to get his dick out and compare?

  He did just that and pulled himself out. My cock in one hand, his in the other. So close. I could close the distance in a second and press our cocks together. I couldn't even imagine how good it would feel.

  "Want to touch me?"

  I nodded, and he waited. I wrapped my fingers around him like he had me. Nothing had ever felt so good in my entire life.

  "Is this some dick comparison competition?" I asked, my voice barely steady—I was barely steady.

  "No...maybe a little. Are you competing?"

  I shook my head. "Never. You'd always win."

  "What do you mean?" He didn't take his eyes off of me.

  "Everyone wants you. They always have." And here I was with my hand on his cock, stroking him in the middle of the locker room.

  "It's only
because of who my parents are and because I'm a good swimmer." He was wrong. It was so much more than that.

  Were we actually doing this? Having a discussion about who wanted whom with our cocks out? But then he started stroking again, and my head fell back with a groan, all thoughts fleeing. His calloused palms were like heaven.

  "Sure you don't want to tonight?" I asked, realizing all of a sudden how close our mouths were.

  "Everyone's home at my house, and you said your dad was off for a few days." His nose bumped mine.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Fuuuuuck.

  I wanted to fuck him right here. Blow him. Kiss him. Jack him off. I didn't even care.

  I wanted to make Harden Hart come. I wanted to look into his eyes and be the reason he orgasmed.

  I twisted my hand, doing what felt good for me. "May I?" I asked, stepping closer so our heads met.

  "Yes," he answered easily. Steady. Heady.

  "You don't even know what I'm asking."

  "I don't care," he replied, looking me in the eyes.

  I wrapped my hand around both of us together and squeezed. He pulsed against me. Soft skin on skin. "Jesus."

  His lips curled into a smile. Powerful. Dominant. Pleased. "Not so hard, is it?"

  "Oh, it's hard." This might have been him teaching me, but it was so much more whether he realized it or not. Harden’s hands were on me, and our cocks were pressed together like I'd imagined so many times. It was all I'd ever wanted.

  "Very hard," he confirmed, pushing his hips into my grip.

  “It's easy with you," I admitted, and it was probably too much honesty. "Nothing is hard with you."

  “It is easier than I thought it would be." He blew the words over my lips.

  Was that good? Bad? I needed to get out of my head and stop second guessing everything.

  I had to go for it.

  I rocked forward, hips meeting, stroking, and nudging us together. My head snapped down, wanting a visual. Sticky fluid connected our heads, and my mouth watered. I'd never wanted to taste anything so badly in my life.