This story is an entirely fictional work of adult erotic fantasy.
Copyright Brooding Muscle and Boy Mercury X 2017.
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Storm King concludes the Silverbacks trilogy all published on Nifty (Story 1: Silverbacks, Story 2: A Scar Nobly Got, Story 3: Storm King)
STORM KING PART 2 by Brooding Muscle & Boy Mercury X
I feel a rushing in my ears and I start to breath rapidly. I had thought that after Brian and Evan Hayes I would never again be impressed with the size of a man's cock, but so much for that. I can tell immediately that it's longer. It might be thinner, I think, but goddamn.
I reach out very lightly and trace my fingers over his rounded belly, and he jerks back initially but settles down to let my hand glide over it softly, just inches from his steely erection.
"That's good Stiffy," he sighs and puts his hard muscular arms around me and Luc, hugging us closer.
"Your cock...." says Luc, near drooling.
"I know," groans Todd. "If I cum, it should go down, right? I mean it's just a dick."
He both stare blankly at him. Just a dick? Could it really be that he doesn't know how freakishly huge his cock is? I thought straight guys compare dicks all the time?
"You have come to the right place, mon beau," Luc intones. "Lie back."
I extend my reach to wrap my fingers around Todd's mammoth erection but then I pause.
"Mmmm, Stiffy has my stiffy," he sighs and pulls me against him.
I stroke it once, and Luc runs his tongue up the full length starting at his balls. Todd sighs contentedly.
"You're good?" I ask Todd, stroking his taut belly, still ridged with abs despite its distension. I slide my hand down his abdomen right to the base of his cock and lightly stroke up its inner curve with the back of my fingers.
"Good for a bro job," he giggles.
"Let him have it," I say to Luc, who wasn't waiting for my go ahead.
Luc opens his mouth wide and descends on Todd's cock, taking its shocking length straight down his throat like a sword swallower in Cirque du Soleil. Todd has a sharp intake of breath and arches his back, but eases down and spreads his legs wide. Holy fuck. Of all the things I never expected, this might almost top the Hayes brothers fighting over me.
Luc goes to work on Todd's cock and balls, rising to the occasion. He lavishes the head with attention, sucking and licking and swirling with his tongue, while I gently stroke his shaft with one hand, caressing his sore belly with the other. Luc sucks one of those big nuts into his mouth and then the other. Todd eases into it and began grinding his hips, thrusting gently. He either doesn't notice or doesn't care that my own erection is rubbing up against his side.
"You like that Todd?" I ask, nuzzling my lips into his ear, as Luc gulps his cock down as far as he can go, prompting Todd to writhe against me. As much as I want this, even more compelling is that I want Todd to like it. I want him to love it. That's the prize.
"Unffffuckkk Stiffy," Todd grunts as Luc deep throats his horsecock, and Todd crushes me into him, my throbbing cock rubbing against his pelvic bone.
I can't imagine he's ever had head like this, given his size and the flaky highschool girls he's dated. Every time Luc gets his giant cock down his throat Todd gasps and twists against me.
"Uhnn fuck Todd, you wanna cum bro?" I ask, as my cock slides against his side all slick with precum.
"Yesssss..." he gasps.
I stroke him more aggressively and his hips jerk, throat fucking Luc who's half choking but won't stop.
"You fucking hung stud jock," I say through gritted teeth, "I always wanted to see you blow your load!"
I sit up and slide down the bed to join Luc. I tap him on the shoulder to get his attention and he pulls his mouth of that towering skyscraper of a cock. He smiles, spit coating his lips, and I smile back at the sexy fucker.
"Let's double team him. Seems there's plenty to share."
We lean down and start at Todd's ballsack, slathering each egg-sized testicle with our tongues and lips. Todd moans and pushes up on his elbows to get a better look, his eyes bugging out of his head as we slowly make our way up his pole, the hardy springy muscle on each side of his cock thick enough for both of us kiss and lick with our lips just barely touching as we work.
"Awww... Goddamn fuck, Stiffy this is so hot, I'm gonna blow."
We reach Todd's huge purple crown and go absolutely nuts sucking and licking, swirling our tongues around his perfect cockhead, making out with each other with that meat popsicle in between. We both pull back as Todd grunts tellingly and we watch amazed as his first cumshot streaks high into the air. It shoots so far up I think it might paint the ceiling but instead it falls and Luc sticks his tongue out to catch it. A second spurt shoots almost as high and I stick my tongue out too, just like we did at November's first snowfall. I manage to catch some of Todd's semen and the delicious salty essence of my teen fantasies almost make me lose my shit. Third and fourth shots rain sticky ambrosia all over our faces and lost in lust Luc and I snog each other hungrily, swapping spit and licking Todd Hickson's cum off each others lips.
As he blasts those epic geysers of cum, Todd aggressively palms our asses like basketballs and snarls:
"Aw yeah, bottoms up, bitches."
His strong hands pulls us in powerfully, smashing our cocks into the sides of his bloated stomach. Luc and I groan into each other's mouths, so close to release, when suddenly Todd's stomach vibrates and our ears are assaulted with another deafening belch. We feel the blast of hot beery air in our faces and shoot hard, streaming cum in cross wise arcs like two cherubs perched on a Versailles fountain.
Drenched in spit, sweat, and semen, the three of us collapse in a slithery mass. Todd's stomach, incredibly, is back to its normal size and Luc and I snuggle into him on either side while our cum cools in the furrows of Todd's abs, rising and falling with his breath as he falls asleep immediately. My eyes meet Luc's briefly and we both smile, our fingers playing with the thatch of blond chest hair between Todd's pecs.
In a year of epic adventures with my friend and sexual mentor, this was the perfect finale.
I'm lost as fuck at West Point. Some people can land anywhere and figure out which way to go. Or maybe it seems that way because they're not worried about where they end up. I'm not one of those people.
Surrounded by hyper masculine guys, each with more confidence than their ripped bodies can contain, I haven't felt so out of place since high school. I've been feeling pretty fit with all my new muscle, but these guys up the bar beyond anything I even imagine for myself.
"Hey Fight Club," I hear, turning to see Evan.
"Why do you always surprise me from behind?" I ask, turning.
"Maybe because your behind is so fine," he answers with a smirk.
Even here at testosterone academy, Evan is a standout. I try to not be dazzled by his looks. We're surprisingly awkward for the first time since Kelsey's party last summer.
"You're different, Zach," he says, breaking the silence.
I glance at his eyes, then away. "So are you," I answer.
I reach into my pocket to feel the heavy ring there. I've had it or its twin for so long now, I know every curve and surface intimately. I'm about to hand it over, but Evan speaks first.
"What happened?" Evan asks. "Into fighting? And I heard that's not the only thing you're up to." I look at him, surprised, and he adds, "I have sources."
"Is there a problem?" I ask in response. "This is the shit you're into. Fucking and fighting."
"Man, Zach," Evan says, shaking his head. "I'm into you. Because you're you. You're-- grounded. You're like the earth, bro."
I want to kiss him so hard, but I maintain a more aloof stance.
"So your fight starts soon?"
"Yup, just headed over to the Athletic Center to warm up. You gonna cheer me on?"
"Sure am. So this is the guy you have a beef with?"
"Yup. If I can't get that racist motherfucker kicked out, then the least I can do is kick his ass."
"I'm excited already." *** As we walk together to the gymnasium, I finally get the story of the incident last fall that almost kept Evan from coming home for Thanksgiving had it not been for the intervention of Senator Samuels. Turns out I am not the first impressionable visitor to the West Point campus. A pretty brunette white girl, who looked lost, caught Evan's eye while he was out for his morning run. He jogged up and introduced himself to see if he could help.
"I think I flustered her," Evan winks at me as he continues the story, "it's been known to happen."
Duh, I think, imagining a shirtless, sweaty Evan Hayes running up to this poor chick, hard brown muscle everywhere, his huge pecs bouncing. I'd be flustered too.
"So all we're doing is talking, and I admit I was flirting with her, but it damn well was mutual. All of a sudden this douchebag, the girl's boyfriend, comes up behind me, sucker punches me right in the kidney and let's fly the most disgusting blast of racist filth I've ever heard anyone say in my life. I'm holding my side from the pain, so shocked by his words my mind's a completely blank. But then I got angry, and before I even knew what I was doing he was on the ground bleeding from his stupid face and the chick was screaming."
"Shit," I say sympathetically.
"Anyway, the punishment was lopsided, he got nothing, and I got hours' and almost missed seeing your sweet ass again over Thanksgiving. I think the boxing coaches know that this fucking asshole needs some comeuppance cause they paired us up for a match. But oh am I so glad they did." We reach the gym and Evan points me in the direction of the stands. "See you after the `show'" he winks.
**
I make my way to the audience stands set up around the boxing ring and take a look around at the other spectators. I don't think I've ever seen so many buff, studly men in one place, ever.
Evan enters the ring and unzips his warm-up jacket, revealing his ripped, ultra-jacked torso. Wow, I don't know he does it but his body keeps getting more muscular each time I see him. He turns and I see a mountain range of rippling topography flex and bunch in his wide back. He throws out some quick combos and I'm impressed with how fast he moves.
His opponent, a white dude with the last name Tyler, steps into the ring, already stripped to the waist. He has the dense, brutal physique of a powerlifter, not ripped, but radiating strength nonetheless. Wiry brown hair covers everything from the massive traps swallowing up any semblance of a neck, to his thick, powerful chest. I'm worried a bit for Evan as I try to imagine anything short of an artillery shell knocking back his tank-like body. The ref brings them to the centre of the ring and together they look like a fitness model matched with a farm animal.
The bell sounds for the beginning of the round and they get right to it. Evan is limber and active, moving about as he throws out some tentative jabs. Tyler by comparison is an immobile rock, massive hairy forearms a shield in front of him, his body merely rotating in place to keep facing Evan as he dances about. Evan's gaze is clear and focussed, Tyler's is stoic and full of hatred.
Evan starts to taunt his opponent by dropping his hands and shrugging, trying to get him to move in. He says something to Tyler that I can't hear and whatever it is it seems to work. The big bruiser moves in, faster than you would think for a guy that thickly built, and Evan barely gets his gloves back up in time to block his face from Tyler's hamhock fists. Without meaning to, my own arms rise up into a defensive position. Guess I'm absorbing some of my boxing lessons after all. Tyler quickly changes tacks and punches lower to slam a right body shot into Evan's side. I can hear the sound the punch makes from where I'm sitting - THUMP - but Evan's expression barely even registers the hit to his carved abs and obliques. In fact he smirks and mouths something again to Tyler that causes his opponent's stony expression to falter slightly; he definitely expected that hit to have more of an impact.
Evan throws out some jabs that get blocked easily but then crushes a right cross through Tyler's defenses to rock the fighter back a few steps. He angrily responds with swinging hooks, but Evan sees them coming and dodges easily, setting himself up in a position to counter with a hard left hook of his own that slams into Tyler's face. His head is turned around and his bite guard pops out as his jaw goes slack. Oh snap, I think.
The ref intervenes to stop Evan moving in, so Tyler can retrieve his bite guard, which he does quickly, popping it into his mouth, a frustrated angry expression on his face. The ref starts the fight again and this time when Evan advances, Tyler takes a step back. A white dude with a shaved head in Tyler's corner shouts something to him that sounds like "don't be a pussy, get in there!" and he stops retreating and throws several jabs to get Evan to back off. Evan tries to follow-up with a combo but Tyler surprises him with an uppercut that just clips Evan's chin. Even the glancing blow has enough power from those thick beefy arms to knock Evan back a step and before Evan can re-focus, Tyler slams a right cross into his face.
"Ouch," I hear myself say out loud and I squint in sympathy. I can hear many dudes in the stands shouting encouragement to Evan, so I join in. Evan is clearly rattled by the quick succession of hits and he retreats, moving back and around the ring while he tries to clear his head. Tyler follows him, laughing, and pauses to throw his shoulders and arms forward into a taunting most-muscular flex that inflates his round traps, delts and pecs into a rock wall of power.
"FEAR THIS MOTHERFUCKER!" Tyler yells as he grinds the flex out, displaying his strength to the assembled spectators and academy staff. "Whoa!" I say, impressed despite myself.
Evan shakes out his head, the grandstanding giving him time to recover. Unbowed, he practically jumps forward to throw what has to be five punches in quick succession at the bull like physique of his opponent. This time it's Tyler's turn to be thrown off balance, as the final power punch, a straight right, clocks him in his unprotected face throwing him back several steps. The bald guy in Tyler's corner does a facepalm.
As Tyler reels, his face a mask of shock at the turnaround, Evan moves in again and works his body over like it's the heavy bag at the gym, his fists moving so fast they're a blur. The pummelling takes its toll, Tyler is in real pain and holds his fists up weakly. I'm just a novice boxer, but my blood is pumping with my own impulse to go in for the kill. Evan backs up to assess the damage and a smirk appears on his face. He moves in again and throws uppercuts into Tyler's gloves that cause his fists to collide with his own face, as if this were a game of billiards.
Evan backs up again and turns to acknowledge our cheers from the stands. He sees me, and looking me right in the eye, flexes a single arm into a bowling ball of shiny brown muscle and kisses the peak. I yell at Evan as I see Tyler rush him. At the last minute, Evan slips to the side and, spinning his arms, piledrives a crushing right hook into Tyler's jaw as he goes past. The big fighter collapses, the power of the punch and the momentum of the bruiser's own mass slamming him forcefully into the corner of the ring where he drops face first on the canvas, his body a boneless pile. By some poetic fluke, his ass ends up propped up in the air, like he's ready to be fucked by the victor. Evan catches my eye and we both laugh as the ref moves in to count him out. The crowd cheers while Tyler's corner man rushes in to check on him. ** Evan exits the ring after the victory announcement and makes a beeline right for me, scooping me up in his arms. His eyes burn with lust and my mouth goes dry. We kiss which causes a few more cheers to erupt from some spectators, surprising me.
"Well done," I say, enamoured, "now can we get to our date?"
Evan wordlessly drops me to the floor, turning me around and shoving his erection into my backside. I gasp.
He growls into my ear:
"My room. Now."
Evan urgently pushes me ahead of him as we make our way to his residence. We get to his door and he reaches around me from behind with his key to unlock it. I feel his enormous raging hard on press against my lower back and I moan audibly.
We enter the room and I see that there are two single beds. "A roomate?" I say, "What are you going to do, put a sock on the knob or someth--"
I turn to see Evan squatting down to grip a five foot tall chest of drawers. He stands up, his round glutes mounding, and walks it across the room, dropping it with a loud bang in front of the door.
"That should do it," he says, his sex stare so intense I'm practically vibrating with desire for him. My own hard rod is going to bust out of my pants. We collide at the centre of the small room, our lips crashing together, our fists at each other's clothes.
"Don't--" I start to say.
Evan pulls sharply and the two halves of my destroyed shirt fly in opposite directions.
"--rip anything," I finish.
Evan laughs and pulls back, looking hungrily at my new fitter body. "Forget what I said before. I like this new sturdier you. Don't need to worry about breaking you now." He lunges at me again and I am crushed into his embrace.
"Fuck yeah, Hayes," I say into his ear, licking it, "rough me up I can take it."
He drops me suddenly. "Get the fuck out of those pants, Zach."
I shuck my jeans faster than I ever have before and as I look up Evan is naked too, his stance wide, his hands on his hips, his herculean physique dominating the small room. He's not only massively muscled per usual but now ripped to the bone, and his enormous uncut erection completes a stunning god-like picture. I want to remember what he looks like right now and so I stare to burn the image into my brain.
Then I jump at him again and we bounce around the room, knocking poster frames off the walls. He throws me on top of the chest of drawers and opens the top one, fishing out a big bottle of lube, then with one arm throws me like a football onto the single bed. He stands before me, his huge cock a weapon, the purple glans a glistening warhead, ready to destroy. Like a drawbridge my legs fly up and Evan practically dives at me face first, burying his strong tongue in my ass. I moan lustily as Evan rims me hard.
"Oh god, YES Evan! YES!" I try to remember why it took me so long to hook up with Evan Hayes again and nothing that comes to mind makes any sense. Evan pulls up and stands, lining his big battering ram of a dick up with my tongue loosened hole and pauses.
"Who do you want Zach?" He says staring directly into my lust filled eyes.
"Oh GOD Evan YOU I want YOU, fuck my ass hard!"
I am writhing but Evan doesn't make a move, looking almost angry. He smacks my right ass cheek hard and I yelp in pain. He grabs my hard dick in his huge dark hand and palms it roughly, then he SLAPS it hard. I gasp.
"I oughta kick the shit outta you for making me wait. No king should have to wait for what's rightfully his." He climbs up on the bed and drops onto my chest, his weight crushing my breath from me, trapping my arms. His cock stands upright before me like an obsidian obelisk, I writhe with lust as a single shining drop of pre-cum slides down that epic shaft. I flex my neck and extend my tongue but I am a quarter-inch shy of tasting his royal nectar. I lock my gaze with Evan, my eyes begging. Please.
Evan holds my gaze and brings his arms up, extended out so that his triceps bulge like inflated tires. Slowly, ever so slowly, he flexes those arms up, and my cock is practically vibrating by the time those titanic Evan Hayes biceps reach their full monstrous peak.
"WHO IS YOUR KING?" he growls.
I'm babbling, insane with lust. How I keep from coming I have no idea, I'm practically too hard to blow a load.
"Evan please, YOU. YOU are my king. PLEASE fuck me Your Majesty."
Evan smirks, he raises his ass off my chest, and pulls me forward. I immediately hook my feet over his shoulders and focus on relaxing my hole. Evan shoves two fingers into me, then three. He bends down and makes out with me aggressively until his kisses have me so aroused I'm practically stuporous. He stands up again and dumps great globs of lube on his huge throbbing uncut dick.
Evan wiggles his fingers in my hole and I know I'm slack enough now to take him whole.
"Split me in two, Evan," I moan.
"Naw, there's only one Zach and I want him for myself. Hear that, babe? I'm claiming you. Now."
Evan lines up with my ass and with a single thrust buries his gargantuan cock in my hole, right up to the pubes. I lock eyes on Evan as I take it all, a blissful smile spreading on my face as his flesh fills me up.
Evan gasps and his eyes widen, his hard ass attitude gone as he stares at me in disbelief.
"I-I'm impressed, babe. Goddamn."
"Wanted to make sure I was ready for you, in more ways that one," I say. "How's it feel?"
"Magnificent," he groans, as he withdraws slightly and starts a slow grind. "Gonna have to pace myself."
Evan grabs onto my firm thighs as he starts to fuck my ass and it's glorious.
He's relentless, a fuck machine, made to do this all day and night. But I'm meeting every thrust and he's getting a crazed look in his eyes.
"Fuckkk Zack," he gasps, "what the fuck are you doing?"
"Milking you," I say as my eyes pulse with flashing light as I clamp down on his mammoth cock, "like you deserve."
"You better stop," he moans, his hips slamming harder, "I can't..."
"Not until you cum in me," I spit out between gritted teeth.
"Zach, please...." he almost cries, his erection punching me hard and it's like it's between me and his cock now and Evan is just along for the ride. My lips curl back in a grin as I admire how I've turned the tables. "Achievement unlocked:" I hear Luc say in my head, "Power Bottom."
"Ahhhh!!!" He thrusts forward hard and his eyes roll back in his head and I can feel him gush in me, then again and again. His cum hits me like a tidal wave, but his dick keeps slamming my prostate again and again, forcing my own spermy load out of me before I even know what is happening.
He's still in spasm even as I finish and I feel the smirk on my face. I made Evan Hayes lose it.
He falls onto my chest, spent, and I hold him there for a while, my heart near his ear, slowly resuming its normal pace. "Where'd you learn that?" Evan asks between breaths.
"Boxing class," I say with a smirk. It's more true than I let on, thinking about how much more confident I am than when we were in high school.
We both laugh, and I think, This is nice. I like this.
I close my eyes and rest for a bit. The ring, Zach, give him back the ring you stole, my conscience nags me. I should give Evan back the football championship ring I pilfered from his dresser back at Thanksgiving, after I lost Brian's ring down the toilet, but my pants are on the floor and I'm too comfortable. I'm enjoying this strange closeness with a guy I would never have thought would like me, in high school. I think back to my Shakespeare class, and Ophelia - Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be.
When I open my eyes, I look down to see Evan awake, he's looking up at me with an expression I've never seen him make before. Is it, bashful? His eyes are almost asking a question.
I smile back and stroke the side of his smooth face. "What is it?"
He doesn't answer, but continues giving me that bashful look. It's so adorably cute that it almost melts my cynical heart. "What?" I insist, punching him lightly on his rock-like shoulder.
"I've been thinking..." he starts to say slowly, "about what happened over Thanksgiving."
I try to guess what he means, the fight with Brian? The coming out to his parents? The Senator's visit? He must mean the armwrestling match.
"Oh, are you sorry you humiliated Brian like that?" I ask.
Evan sits up sharply and his expression changes completely. "What? What do you mean, am I sorry? Fuck no, I'm not sorry."
Brilliant, Zach, way to ruin the moment.
"Oh, no I... it's just that I've been worried about him lately," I fumble under Evan's glare which is gradually getting sharper.
"Worried? Why are you worried about that skinny douchebag? He shits rainbows and leprechauns and unicorns, you don't have to worry about him."
"But... you must have heard? He got kicked off the football team. He beat up two guys? Nobody knows where he is?
"Zach," Evan says, looking cross, "I've spent my whole life trying to prove I'm as good as Brian to my teammates, to my coaches, to my Dad. Why? Why did I have to do all that? He barely has to try hard and everything comes to him. Now you too? I finally have you all to myself and that asshole is who's on your mind?"
I've never seen Evan so worked up before. This isn't bravado, or cool pose, or shit talk. This is real and raw. Before I even know what I am doing I plant my mouth on Evan's thick strong lips. We make out passionately for a bit and then I break our embrace, holding Evan's handsome face in my hands while our foreheads touch. I stare into his beautiful brown eyes and try to disperse the dark clouds brewing there through sheer force of will.
"Evan, you've made it. It's okay. You're doing well at one of the most elite schools in the country, while he's tanking at a party school. You're physically stronger than him and probably have been for a while. But most importantly, you're tougher, Evan, more resilient. He's not. Evan, I think he needs you. He needs us."
I feel like I've never risked anything so great in all my life to tell him these things. I hold my breath.
Evan breaks my gaze to look down, and I hear a low mournful sound in his lungs build like a storm rolling in from the hills. Then the rain comes, wet tears soaking my chest as Evan gasps and sobs and cries.
**
"It's my fault, Zach." Evan says, his voice still quavering as the tears stop flowing and he breathes steadily again.
Evan's outpouring of feeling has taken me by surprise such that I feel like I can do little but stroke his buzz cut head and muscular back while he chokes out his tears. But I feel like this I can answer.
"Of course it's not your fault, Evan, how could it be?"
"Pops has always been more protective of Brian, and it's just one of the things that would drive me insane with envy when we were growing up. I could never understand why. It's stupid, but I somehow thought he just didn't like me as much. But then, this year in class, we had a talk by veterans about concussions sustained in combat and I talked with my father about it afterward."
I push a bit on Evan to indicate I need a rest from his crushing weight. We shift positions with him laying on his back while I put my head on his broad chest, feeling the tiny curly hairs there on my cheek. He continues:
"I asked Pops if it was true what this vet had said, that some people are more concussion prone than others, simply based on genetics. He said yeah and that Brian and I are a prime example of that."
"But Evan," I say, confused, "you guys are brothers, like twins, even. How different can your genetics be?"
"Sure, Zach," he says, rubbing my back now with his strong hand, "but come on, we're so different. Most people who meet us can hardly believe we're brothers, let alone twins. But even so, there's something else. Brian was the first to get a serious concussion, when we were ten. And I gave it to him."
I raise my head to stare at Evan. "So Brian was just standing there minding his own business and you clocked him?" I say skeptically.
Evan sighs. "Well no, he probably had hit me in the head three or four times before I finally landed that punch, but it threw his head back and he hit the brick wall on the side of our house."
"Oh."
"He wasn't knocked out, but he fell to his knees and when he stood he was wobbly. Then he threw up and Mom and Dad both freaked."
I'm silent as I try to imagine how scary that must have felt for a ten year old.
I sit up, pressing my hand into his chest. "Evan, what are you really saying when you say it's your fault. You're fault what?"
Evan shakes his head. "Zach, in elementary school, middle school and the beginning of high school Brian was the smart one, and the solid one. Nothing phased him and he never did his homework but still got straight A's. But then that changed, he was still the most popular, but his grades started sliding, just when it was most important for college applications. Now, like you say, he's failing business school at Tulane and he flies off the handle the moment someone gets under his skin. It's all the concussions, Zach."
"But you don't start those fights. I mean both times I've seen you guys fight it was Brian who started it."
Evan's eyes drop. "I've started plenty of others, and believe me no one's better at goading him into a fight than me." He looks up quickly. "But Zach, I have to tell you something. I.. I really like you. I know you like to think this has all been about me and Brian, but it's not. It kil-- it... affected me that you backed off after the armwrestling match and then I hardly heard from you. I think that's why I got so upset just now. I know it was bad that I humiliated Brian like that, but the worst thing for me was that I could tell right away I'd fucked up with you."
Evan pulls me into him and crushes one of his devastating kisses on me. He breaks it and moves his lips to my ear.
"I'm glad you're back," he murmurs.
"I'm glad I... affect you," I say, teasing him with the bland word he just used. Tell me how you really feel, Evan. "Wait. You were about to tell me something you were thinking about last Thanksgiving, but I interrupted you..."
"Oh, that, uh... well nevermind that, baby, we still gotta have our date, we're doing this a little out of order."
"Okay," I say, still curious but excited for what Evan has planned. He jumps up and heads to the shower, while I pull my clothes back on and try my best to move the huge dresser with which Evan blocked the door. I can barely shove it a couple of inches. Jesus he's strong. I go over to the window and admire the austere military campus, the buildings a mix of historic and new. As my eyes drop toward the few trees lining the path across from the dorm, I see a figure I would recognize anywhere and I freeze.
It's Brian.
TO BE CONCLUDED IN STORM KING PART 3