Until You (Until #1)

by Briar Prescott

“I hid your shoes,” he says and starts to kiss me, but I rear back. “What the fuck?” “I hid your shoes,” he repeats patiently and tries to kiss me again. “Why?” “If you don’t have your shoes, you can’t run out on me in the middle of the night,” he says.

“What are you gonna do to me?” he asks. “Whatever I want. You’re mine.” “Yes. I’m yours,” he breathes out.

“You’re really good at this,” he rushes out in one single breath. I better be. I’ve had enough practice to get the technical side sorted out, but it’s also that I just fucking enjoy this.

“Can I?” he asks. “Do you… Can I?” “Yeah,” I say. “Do it.” Yes, yes, yes. Do whatever you want with me. Anything. I’ll take it.

He groans. “Shit. I’m gonna lose it the moment I get inside you.” “Aww. Short fuse?” I ask, throwing him a look over my shoulder.

“I’ve wanted to do this since the first time I saw you.” If the goal is emotional distance… well, safe to say this is not the way to do it.

This is also not a conversation to have with somebody’s cock pressed against your ass, but that doesn’t seem to stop me.

As far as decisions go, this was still a terrible one to make, but it’s hard to care when you’ve just had every thought fucked out of you.

“Stay?” he whispers into my skin. “You stole my shoes. I kind of have to stay, don’t I?”

He kisses me as he passes me on his way to the fridge, while I stare straight ahead and try to will my brain to wake up. Kisses me between cracking eggs in the bowl and kisses me while he waits for them to cook. Kisses me in the shower and kisses me while I get dressed. He retrieves my shoes from the hallway closet and watches me put them on. Kisses me again before I head out.

“You have the prettiest cock.” Blake stops rubbing the towel over his hair and raises his brows at me. “I’m not sure that’s the term I prefer.”

We spent the day in bed. Fucking. Talking. Napping. And—it bears repeating—fucking.

“Want me to put my pretty cock inside you? I could be persuaded.” I smile into my hands as shivers of pleasure move over my back. “Yeah, I’m sure it’d be a tough negotiation.” “It would. I’m not easy, you know. You’d have to seduce me. And just rubbing your ass against my cock won’t do the trick. You’d have to really put some effort in. ’Cause I have standards.”

“I have to get to work.” I’m at the Barclays Center tonight, setting up for the Nets. I’d much rather stay here. Blake nuzzles my neck. “Hmm? What was that? You have to get naked? I can help you with that.”

“Cancel whatever you have lined up, and I’ll hire you myself for the night.” I snort. “To do what?” “Fuck,” he says. “This offer comes with extra strong sex worker vibes, and that’s not really my area of expertise.” “I strongly disagree. You’re excellent at sex, so you’d make for an excellent sex worker. Don’t sell yourself short.”

“Didn’t want to hurt your feelings before. But yeah, you’re terrible. Your skills could really use a lot of work. I’m talking months and months of rigorous daily practice. But I’m a benevolent guy, so I’ll volunteer to help you out with that.”

I’ve been trying to forget the keys every now and then in the hopes it’ll discipline me a bit and make me go home. It’s not really working, but a false sense of security is still a sense of security, I guess.

“From now on whenever parents see her, they’ll look at their own kid and be all, ‘Why can’t you be more like Blair’s baby?’” “Poor little losers. But what can you do?”

Introspection usually doesn’t give me great results, so I rarely venture to those grounds.

I never let myself need anybody, because what if one day they’re not there anymore?

Are you sure you want to keep me around? Because there’s a chance I’ll make sure Hazel’s first word is something wildly inappropriate.”

“Even so, you should probably sleep. Take it from the expert in terrible sleep habits.” “Shh,” I say in between kisses. “I’m a bit busy for sensible life advice right now.” “With?” He sounds amused. “If you can’t tell, I’m doing it wrong.”

My chest tightens and my heart hammers, and it’s scary as fuck but… It’s worth the risk. If it means I get to keep Blake, it’s worth the risk.

I’ve never done this with anybody who mattered. And Blake matters. More than anybody else. I can’t believe I’m putting myself in this position. Voluntarily. But here we are.

“Blake?” I murmur softly. “Hmm?” he mumbles against my neck. “Remember how you said you weren’t really the dating type?” He lifts his head and studies me curiously before he nods. “Well, I was wondering,” I say. “If, maybe… you’d make an exception for me?”

“You already are my every exception.”

Because it turns me the fuck on when he gets going. Sometimes I mention downloading one of the apps that are known to leak your data like a broken faucet just to watch his head nearly explode.

I’m starting to suspect I could watch him forever and not get bored, and isn’t that a terrifying development?

You’re finally here! I’ve been waiting for you. Just you. Nobody else fits, but you do.

How my favorite time of the day is the night now, because that’s when he’s pressed against me, head to toe, seeking me out like he can’t get close enough.

“You just agreed to come with me, even though you don’t even know what this is about?” “Yeah.” He meets my gaze and sends me a small smile. “You’ll be there.” “I’ll also be there if it turns out I’m inviting you to a cannibal convention.” He stops and widens his eyes. “Hold the phone. You’re telling me you got tickets to Peeps for Meats? Being in this relationship has finally paid off!” “Is that a real thing? Because if it’s not, it’s disturbing how quickly you came up with that name.”

I spent the last week worrying about how to ask him if he wanted to come with me—worrying about if I should ask him to come with me at all—and in doing so, I completely forgot to figure out how I’d handle the aftermath if he said yes. Well, now I have my answer: not well.

“Ready to go?” he asks like we’re headed to a picnic in the park and not a goddamn prison. “Aren’t you going to ask me why we’re here?” I keep my eyes fixed firmly on our entwined fingers. “I can connect the dots,” he says gently.

He doesn’t look worried or judgmental or any of the things people should when their boyfriend brings them to meet his dad. In prison.

“Why’s your dad in prison?” I’m pretty sure other people aren’t having this conversation with their boyfriends on a sunny Sunday, so if nothing else, at least we’re original. “Kidnapping,” I say. I can feel Blake’s eyes on the side of my face. “Kidnapping who?” I look up. Face him head on. He can probably guess the answer, but still. “Me.”

OKAY FOR ONCE I AM SURPRISED

“Easy for you to say. I don’t have any parents you can meet. Fuck, you’re so lucky!” “The fact that you’re a foster kid was what tipped the scales.”

“I don’t want him to just like me. I want to impress him,” he says. “And I’m going to warn you right now, I will do anything to make it happen. He doesn’t like blond hair? I’m in the salon tomorrow morning. He needs something smuggled inside? I’m his man. If he asks me to tattoo a map on my back and get myself thrown in jail in order to break him out of here, I will do it. Also, if you happen to hear me lie to make myself look better, feel free to keep your mouth shut.”

My heart does that weird thing—skips a few beats and then starts beating insanely fast. It seems to be a symptom of some sort of Blake-related heart disease, because it only ever happens around him. Ah, sweet self-delusion. My oldest and dearest friend.

“You could’ve prepared me, at least.” Dad’s eyes move to Blake’s chest and the midnight green and silver T-shirt he’s wearing underneath his dark blue jacket, before he shakes his head again and lets out a heavy sigh. “An Eagles fan. It’s like spitting in the face of my ancestors.”

HAHAHA FUCK OFF

How do you feel about the Giants?” Blake throws a glance my way, and I give him a brief nod. “Love them.”

Booo

I glance at Blake and shrug and smile, because that’s what I do around Blake—I smile.

So now that I can afford it, I indulge when I feel like it.” I cock my head to the side. “Am I an indulgence?” “An indulgence,” he says. “And a necessity.”

It takes Sarah ten days to report Adam missing. By that time there’s no Adam anymore. Just Abby, Grant, and Jude.

I didn’t know who she wanted me to be, so I couldn’t even pretend. I just knew I wasn’t him.” He slides his palm over my back and leans his forehead against the nape of my neck. “You’re enough,” he says very quietly. “Just you.”

<3

“It’s the one thing I can’t handle. Liars.” Blake’s gone very still above me.

Jesus. I knew he was sus. Aahhhh

“I bailed,” I say, point-blank. Look down at my fingers. “I do that. When going gets tough.”

There's 10000000% going to be a third act breakup

“And when we’re arrested, then what?” “Then we can relive these beautiful moments in our jail cell.” “Our jail cell. You’re mighty optimistic.” “Or romantic. We can be together in the holding cell before we’re ruthlessly torn apart. It’ll be tragic and romantic.”

“Fuck you.” It’s more a term of endearment than anything else.

I’m having a very hard time swallowing down some very serious declarations. The kind I can’t, in good conscience, make right after a blowjob.

“Just fill in the fucking application form,” he says with a sigh. “You’re so unbelievably stubborn about the stupidest things. You know you want to, so just take the fucking laptop and fill in that fucking application form to Berklee you’ve been secretly reading and stop fucking pretending like you’re not fucking interested.” I blink at all the fucks he just laid on me.