Page 26 of Men in Shorts

“You felt like a woman?”

Brodie shoved his shoulder. “No, ya tumshie. I feel like a boy. I’m eighteen and sometimes I still feel fourteen. Being a virgin doesn’t help.” He rubbed his nose. “By the way, I’m a virgin. Apparently I just admitted that.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Still, Duncan was curious. “What about you and your boyfriend?”

“Geoffrey? We did lots of things, but we never, you know.” Brodie smoothed a wrinkle in the red pillowcase between them. “I think Geoffrey believed that way he wouldn’t truly be gay. Hand jobs and blow jobs and all, that’s just mates having a bit of fun. A way to kill a Friday night in the most boring place on earth.”

“What about since you’ve come to Glasgow? You’ve not exactly been a priest your first year at uni.”

“True, I’ve had some good times.” Spots of pink appeared on Brodie’s cheeks. “I guess by now, I’ve decided to wait for the right loon—the right lad, I mean.”

“Don’t correct yourself. I like when you speak Doric.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Not at all. You don’t need to pretend to be someone you’re not.”

“I know, but—it’s become a habit, fitting in to avoid mockery.”

“Story of our lives, aye?”

“Aye.” Brodie smiled, but then his lips turned soft and serious as his fingers tightened on Duncan’s hair. “Can we stop talking now?”

Chapter7

Lyingin the dark that night, listening to Duncan’s deep, steady sleep breath, Brodie knew he’d found the right loon. With Duncan, Brodie felt more at ease, more unguarded, morehimselfthan he had with anyone since Geoffrey.

Still, there’d been a certain cozy luxury about their day together, knowing that all this touching wouldn’t lead to sex just yet. They could savor the simple warmth of contact, indulge in long snogging sessions until their lips went sore. Brodie didn’t mind wanting more than he had the strength to do right now, knowing that one day, he would have it.

He let his imagination take him there—or ratherhere, in this bed—picturing their naked, sweat-slick bodies moving in perfect sync. He imagined how Duncan would feel inside him, and how he would feel inside Duncan.

Then he wondered if the latter were even an option. If Duncan was like most macho gay athletes, he might think getting fucked was for sissies. He seemed so proud that his team played in a “regular” football league instead of an LGBTQ one, and he’d shown such disdain forRiver City’s effeminate hairdresser, Robbie. Brodie had been kidding when he’d called Duncan “straight-acting,” but like most jokes, it held a kernel of truth.

Stretching his legs with pent-up frustration, Brodie noticed Duncan’s sleep was growing restless behind him. Perhaps he was dreaming of the same thing Brodie was imagining.

A sudden kick to his calf dispelled that illusion.

“Ow. Fit’s a dee?” Brodie asked as he turned over. “What’s wrong?”

Duncan rolled from his stomach onto his side, now facing Brodie but lying farther away, taking most of the covers. His eyes shifted behind his closed lids.

Then Duncan’s lips parted as he drew in a short, utterly adorable gasp, which turned into a guffaw. The sound of Duncan’s laughter, which had once cut Brodie to the bone, now made him feel like he was inside some protective inner circle.

Brodie turned back to face the wall, tugging the sheet and duvet. As he pulled the covers forward, Duncan came with them. He pressed close behind Brodie, one arm drifting over his waist.

This was exactly how they’d lain together last night. But tonight, everything was different. For one thing, Brodie wasn’t too tired to appreciate the insistent hardness pressing against him. For another, he wasn’t too tired to do something about it.

He arched his back and met Duncan’s cock with his arse, then eased slowly up and down, feeling the long, stiff shaft slide along the base of his tingling spine.

With a harsh sigh of desire, Duncan responded, moving against him. Whether he was awake or asleep, Brodie couldn’t tell. He didn’t much care, so filled he was with the thrill of being wanted.

Duncan’s breath grew more ragged, and his thrusts more urgent. His left thigh curled forward over Brodie’s, and together with his arm it held him tight in a double embrace.

Then suddenly he stopped. “Oh God,” he said, clear and loud, obviously awake now. “I’m sorry.”

“Dinna be.” Brodie reached back, held Duncan firmly against him, then ground harder then ever.

“Fuck…” Duncan clutched him close, hips jerking, breath hissing through his teeth as he pressed his mouth to Brodie’s hair. Brodie met his movements, reveling in the frantic, irrepressible desire between them.

---