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For The Fans: Chapter 22


Andy_Amo: Backwardz_Cap + Not_Your_Baby I wanna be saved so bad I almost prayed, can you boys be my new religion?

Slave4U69: Hey @Backwardz_Cap I got a Twizzler 4 U! 

theSenator: Watching you two makes the difficult days a little more manageable<3

Extricating myself from Frankie’s New Year’s Eve party proved more difficult than I’d expected.

It was a very fun party, as they tend to be, and all of our friends were there. I knew it wouldn’t be easy to slip out before the countdown to midnight, which is why I’d planned to make an undetected exit.

I would cause a distraction, and while everyone was focused on that, I’d slink out the door and rush back to my dorm to meet Kyran so we could kiss at midnight.

Because really, that’s what this whole thing is about, right? That’s why he wanted to come over before midnight… So we could do what we wouldn’t be able to do in front of people at either of our respective parties.

I’m starting to wonder if it would even be so bad. I’ve certainly never given a shit what people think about me… So what if they see me kissing my stepbrother?? Is it really that big of a deal?

What if we have feelings for each other? Are we expected to just push them away and forget about them because society might find it a little strange?

The thing is that I would be willing to take that kind of heat from people for Kyran. At this juncture in our bizarre, befuddling little relationship, I’m coming to terms with the idea of disappointing and weirding people out for him, because I care more about the way it feels to be with him than a million scoffs and eyerolls.

But I don’t think Kyran is in the same spot, and that’s been chomping away at pieces of my heart for the past twenty-four hours like some sadistic flesh-eating bacteria.

Kyran is confused about his sexuality. Add to that the fact that he’s in the spotlight, being the quarterback of a football team poised to bring home a major championship this year, who will no doubt be scouted by the NFL next season, I’m not sure coming out as a guy who’s having a relationship with his stepbrother is something he’s jumping at the chance to do anytime soon.

It kind of sucks, but this is the predicament we find ourselves in. So these little moments, like sneaking away to kiss at midnight, are becoming more and more important.

A half-hour ago, I challenged Micah to do a shot out of Frankie’s bellybutton, which I thought would serve as the perfect distraction to rile everyone up, keeping all attention on the two of them for long enough for me to slip out.

And it was actually working. Until Zeb spotted me, that loud-mouthed lush, and hollered, “Hey, Avi, where you goin’?!”

I paused with my hand on the doorknob, eyes squeezing shut as all the excitement deflated from my body. So close.

He and Bea staggered over to me, while across the room, Frankie was sitting up, shooting me a very suspicious look.

“I, uh… just need some fresh air,” I lied, pretending to be woozy and drunk, when in reality, the only real high I was feeling was more like a withdrawal for a certain set of lips. “I might throw up.”

“Oh, no!” Bea squealed in distress, grabbing me by the arm and tugging me toward the bathroom. “Come with me. I’ll get you some water and rub your back.”

“No… No, I’m fine.” I tried to yank myself away from her. “I just need to go—”

“What’s wrong with him??” Micah asked, rushing over with Frankie hot on his trail.

“Fuck me…” I muttered under my breath, rubbing my eyes.

“He feels sick,” Bea hiccupped, brushing her fingers through my hair.

“Don’t puke on my shoes!” Zeb cried, launching himself away from me.

“Is that right?” Frankie crossed her arms over her chest, narrowing her gaze at me. “Feeling sick, are you, Aviel?”

It was clear she wasn’t buying my little ruse, but I barely even cared anymore. It was eleven-fifteen and I still needed to get all the way back to campus if I was going to make it to Kyran by midnight. For all I knew, he could already be there, waiting outside for me and thinking I ditched him.

Fuck this. I knew I should have given him my key.

“You guys, it’s okay. Really.” I finally yanked myself away from Bea’s grip, stumbling back to the door. “I just need some air. I’ll be right… back.”

Tugging my phone out of my pocket while I whipped open the door, I found a text from five minutes earlier.

Kyran: I’m here… Are you back yet?

“Fuck,” I whispered, diving out into the hall and rushing down the steps.

Me: I got held up… I’m so sorry. I’m on my way now, just sit tight

I was practically running to the T, but it didn’t even matter because I sat there waiting for it for twenty fucking minutes. New Year’s Eve had everything on a stupid delay, and I felt like an idiot for not getting out of there sooner. There were no Ubers, no Lyfts. Nothing.

I was stuck waiting on the goddamn train to get me back to him.

It eventually showed up, and now I’m on it, frantically bouncing my knee, watching the minutes disappear before my eyes.

At my stop, I leap off the thing and take off running again, across the goddamn campus. By the time I get to my building, it’s fucking eleven fifty-eight, and I can’t even wait for the stupid slow-ass elevator. I jog up four flights of stairs to my floor, rushing up the hall to find Kyran sitting on the floor in front of my door.

“I’m so… sorry…” I gasp, out of breath with blood rushing in my ears. Dropping to my knees in front of him, I struggle to suck air into my lungs before I pass out. “Wouldn’t… let me leave. Train… no Ubers… fucking ran… Jesus Christ…”

I’m seeing spots.

Kyran’s lips slope into an amused grin. His hands reach out and he drapes them over my chest. “Breathe, Avi.” I pull in a deep one, and he chuckles. “It’s okay. You made it.”

“Barely…” I huff.

People begin shouting from somewhere up the hall.

They’re counting down.

Kyran bites his lip, fingers sliding up my neck. I know I should probably bring him inside… I don’t know if we can do this out here, in the open. Someone might see…

But the chanting out numbers gets to five, then four, then three…

“Two,” he whispers, like he doesn’t give a single fuck about who could see us.

He just wants to kiss me.

And with my heart racing like I just did to get to him, that’s all I want in the world as I hum, “One.”

Crashing my lips onto his, I kiss him with my muscles trembling and my chest burning from so much more than just the exertion.

I did make it. I made it to us…

“Happy New Year, baby,” he murmurs into my mouth, holding on to my neck to keep me close as my fingers stroke through his silky soft hair.

“Happy New Year.”

I can’t stop kissing him. It just feels too good.

Being with him right now… knowing that he showed up because this is what he wanted too… it’s everything.

“Are you gonna bring me inside or what?” He grins on my lips, and I grin back, nodding.

“Come on, beautiful.” I take his hand while we both stand up. “You’re mine tonight.”

“Baby… Can I take it off? Please…”

“Not yet,” I growl, my fingers digging into his hips.

“Please, Avi…” he whimpers again, running his hand along his swollen cock. “I need to come so bad it hurts…”

“I know, baby,” I hum, chewing my lip at the sight of his dick bobbing on my abs, all engorged, pink, thick and fucking stunning. The cock ring is really holding him back, and it’s incredible to witness. “But you heard the rules. Not until I come again.”

He whines, grinding his hips against me, riding my cock in gradual, quivering motions with his hands on my knees to brace himself. We’ve already been fucking for over an hour, and he hasn’t come yet. I can only imagine the salacious burn he’s feeling from the torture of this edging.

We started with him bent over on all fours, my cock stretching and filling his tight ass until I came, leaving that sweet hole overflowing. Then we repositioned so that I could lie back and let him ride me, the perfect angle for me to watch the gift from our fans work its magic.

And we’ve already spent an exorbitant amount of time testing out our other gifts. Last night—slash this morning—we fucked till sunup, playing with vibrating plugs, and these little suction cup things you stick on your nipples. We made sure to record videos of us using them for the people who sent them, which was fun, because filming is what we do. It’s what’s made us into this… whatever we are now.

But off-camera is where the real sorcery has been happening. The connection we’ve been building, that seems to grow stronger and more powerful with every illustrious second we mutually feed into it.

This is becoming so much more than just sex for the fans.

It’s us. Not Backwardz_Cap and Not_Your_Baby… Kyran and Avi. Falling into each other, over and over again, because we want to.

Apparently, our bodies know no bounds where one another is concerned… Because I’m literal seconds from spilling inside him again. Seventh orgasm in the last eighteen hours, between sucking, fucking, and the one time he slid his cock inside my ass, wrapped my legs around his waist, and jammed at my prostate like he was trying to win a prize.

Of course, we were both winners in that scenario. And yes, the prize was more cum.

Which gives me an idea.

Lifting him off my dick, I move my hips, spreading my legs while he kneels in between, slumping against my leg with a tired sigh.

“Why’d you stop…?” He pouts, and it’s as sexy as it is adorable.

“Put your cock in me.” I breathe out the words in a rush, grabbing the lube and stroking some quickly onto his dick, magnified in its state of tumescence. The thing is fucking huge right now, and rock solid, which has me quivering below the waist.

Kyran bites his lip, scooting in closer while I aim his cock between my ass. He pushes in, and we both groan out loud.

“Fuck me, baby…” I hiss, but he’s already doing it, pumping into me with his palms on my chest. “Harder… faster… deeper, love. Fuck the cum out of me so you can get your orgasm.”

His hair is hanging in his eyes, both of us sweat-slicked, panting and grunting like fucking animals while he rides me out.

“Ummff… Avi… I might…” he croaks, running his hand down to fist my cock. “I don’t think I can hold it.”

“You can do it, baby.” My voice comes out all shaky from his vigorous thrusts. “I believe in you.”

“You’re the worst,” he mewls, dropping his face to suck on my nipples, jerking my dick and destroying me with the delicious burn of wet friction inside my body.

“You love it.” My head is fogging, muscles tensing, the orgasm bubbling up to a slow boil in my loins. “Fffuck, your big dick is gonna make me come…” Slapping my hands against his abs, I stop him and rasp, “Get back on my cock so I can come in you.”

He doesn’t hesitate or argue. Pulling himself out, he climbs back over my hips, seating himself fully on my pelvis, with every inch of me buried inside him. And the descent of his warm, tight channel sliding down my length is the final nail in the coffin.

I grab his hips hard, holding him in place while I shoot pulse after pulse inside him, whimpering hoarse sobs of, “Holy fuck… oh my God, I’m coming so hard in you… Again.”

“Avi…” he moans, flicking my nipples with his thumbs as he squirms on my cock, head tipped back, chest flying through wild breaths that match my own. “Your cum is so hot inside me…”

“Fuck yea, baby… work it out,” I mumble, forcing my eyes open to watch him. Then I peel the cock ring off his dick and his chin drops to aim a heady gaze at me. “Now come in me.”

“Thank God…” he whispers, sliding off my cock with my cum spilling everywhere. Moving back in between my legs, he holds my thighs open. “I wanna come all over you, baby… In your mouth and on your cock.” He shoves his dick inside me with a punishing thrust that has me crying at the overwhelming sensation. “But pouring deep in your ass wins.”

“Uhhfffuck.” Nonsense flows from my lips. I’m hypersensitive right now and feeling every single twinge of his thick cock as it moves in me. “K-Kyran…”

“Motherfucking fuck, I’m coming!” He gasps, crumbling and collapsing with his abs sealing to mine, trapping my sensitive, softening cock between us. “So hard… so, so hard, my dick is exploding.” He pushes and pulls steadily to milk out every aching throb I can feel flooding me.

It’s fucking incredible. More than incredible…

I think I’m dead.

“Ow… ow ow… ohhh boy…” Kyran whimpers, writhing us together and biting my throat. “Baby… I just came so hard in you it hurts…”

As I trickle back down to earth from the heavens, I find myself laughing. More like giggling. Seriously, I sound like a cartoon character, but I can’t even help it.

That was the most intense thing I’ve ever felt. And now I’m laughing.

Kyran starts chuckling with me, and the next thing I know, we’re both snorting, our bodies wiggling together with voracious bouts of breathy laughter.

“Oh my God.” He croaks out his giggles, wiping his eyes as he lifts himself up and pulls out of me slowly. “We made such a mess!”

“And you sound like you lost your voice.” I chuckle, then frown. “Okay, so do I.”

“Do you have neighbors on the other side of that wall??” He grins lazily, nodding behind us while his fingers trace the lines of my chest. “They might think we’re killing each other in here…”

“If that’s murder, then call me Jeffrey Dahmer, gorgeous.” I wink at him, and he laughs. I tap him on the ass. “Okay. Up. As much as I want to hold on to you forever, there’s cum literally everywhere. Let’s go take a shower.”

Pressing his lips together to cover a crazed smile, he cocks his head. “Together?”

I sit up, putting us nose to nose. “You wanna?”

“I’m dying to.” He grins, kissing me softly.

It’s so slow, and warm, and chock full of passion, I’m melting all over the bed.

So all those times he was showering in there alone… I could have been joining him? Because he’s dying to…

It feels like my heart has escaped my ribcage and is flying all around the room like a free bird to Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Free Bird.”

Kyran peels off of me and stands up on wobbly legs. I do the same myself, and we walk together to the bathroom, casually peeking at each other and chewing on our lips to keep the psychotic grins from getting out.

“You’re walking like you just got turned out,” I tease, and he shoves me playfully.

“So are you,” he growls while I shove him back. “You’re pretty much my sperm bank at this point.”

I gasp, grabbing his arm while he play-fights me off. “You’re one to talk! That sweet ass has been ripping shots of my cum like tequila on Cinco de Mayo.”

He tosses his head back in a booming laugh, racing me into the bathroom. Reaching inside, he turns on the water, and I give his ass a little smack. His face whips in my direction, cheeks flushed as he forces a scowl.

“You like that, baby?” I crowd him, and he hums.

“Don’t tell the fans. They’ll start sending us whips and paddles.”

I laugh, feeling the water to make sure it’s warm enough. Then I hop in, taking his hand in mine and bringing him in behind me. The shower isn’t big—smaller than the one at home—so we pretty much have to stand with our bodies pressed together in order to both be under the water at the same time.

But you won’t find me complaining. I might never shower alone again.

Squirting out some of my body wash into my hands, I lather up and run them over his muscles, loving the feel of him beneath my fingers. He watches me while I wash him, blinking droplets of water from his lashes that tumble down his puffy lips.

It’s an image that will be seared in my mind for a very, very long time.

I savor the act of caressing soap onto every inch of him, taking my time like I didn’t get to when we last showered together; touching his shoulders and arms, down his perfectly sculpted chest and abs. His big, beautiful dick gets much more attention from my fingers, before I move on to his legs and feet. Then I spin him and do his back, unable to keep from purring while I clean his ass.

His head drops back to rest on my shoulder, panting breaths echoing inside the small enclosure. When the soap rinses off, I just have to kiss his neck and his shoulders, running my fingers through his wet hair.

“You feel… so good,” he breathes. “I’ve never been touched the way you touch me, Avi.”

“I’ve never touched anyone the way I touch you…” I confess to him in a whisper, awed by how it feels to have my hands on him in a way that isn’t building to sex.

He turns slowly, taking the bottle. “My turn?”

I nod timidly, watching him as he does what he wants with me, washing my body with cherishing fingers, cleaning every aching muscle, every burn of chafed skin. I can’t stop staring at the way he’s examining me, wondrous gaze traveling the same route as his hands.

“This is… too good, Kyran.” My eyes fall shut when he presses his wet chest to mine, fingers running up my sides. Too good to be true…

“Is there such a thing as too good?” he breathes.

Yes… I think there is such a thing as too good.

Because no matter how high your soul soars, the fear of heartache always waits for you back down on the ground.

“I don’t know…” I grasp his jaw and bring his mouth quickly to mine, kissing him impatiently while I can, because I’m so damn scared this heat will run cold. “This is different, baby,” I hum in between frantic kisses. “Tell me it’s different for you too…”

He nods fast while our lips chase the high. “It’s different. It is.”

“What does it mean?” I hate the desperation in my tone.

I don’t want to be the one freaking out over this, but I am. I’m teetering, not knowing where he stands. Not knowing if this will last… Not knowing fucking anything other than how I feel about him, which is so spectacularly inconvenient it makes me shiver down to my bones even while standing under hot water.

“I don’t… I don’t know.” His voice shakes a little, and it kills me, because I don’t want him to be afraid.

We can’t both be afraid… it’ll never work. I want him to know for both of us, but I just don’t think he does.

It sucks.

“I wish I had answers, Avi, but I’m completely fucked up here…” he whispers.

“Do you want to stay?” I ask quietly.

He nods.

And the looming question fights its way up my throat. “Would you still want to… if someone knew you were here?”

Kyran seals himself to me, hands gripping my back as his forehead drops to mine. “I… I think so.”

My chest opens up like a bloom for him.

I think so…

Okay. I can work with I think so.

Kissing him for many more minutes, I eventually turn off the water and hop out, grabbing us both towels. I’m not going to press this any more right now, because I don’t want to stress him out.

He wants to stay. That’s a gift I’ll gladly accept.

We both dry off side by side, my eyes falling to my toothbrush. I remember him using it this morning, and a grin tugs at my lips. Peeking at Kyran, I find him staring at himself in the mirror, blinking at his reflection. The blankness in his eyes kills my smile quickly, and I just watch him for a moment.

This isn’t the first time I’ve seen him do this… Stare at himself in the mirror; gawk at his own body, his limbs, as if he’s never seen them before. It’s like he’s an alien wearing human skin… An Edgar suit, if you will.

It’s strange, and I really don’t know what to make of it. But after a few minutes of silence, he’s starting to freak me out a little.

“Ky…” I rumble, a dash of worry in my tone.

He blinks hard, then turns his face in my direction, all traces of that vacant stare having vanished. “Yea?”

“Are you… alright?” I ask softly, keeping my expression casual, so as not to let him on to my concern for his sudden spaciness.

He puffs out an exhale, then grins, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Fine. Why?”

“No reason…” I shake my head. “You wanna wear some of my clothes?”

“’Kay,” he sighs, his smile becoming a little less wooden.

Forcing myself not to dwell on it, I bring him back into the bedroom, rustling him up a pair of boxer briefs from inside my dresser. He steps into them, then saunters over to the bed, stripping the dirty sheets off. I can’t help but just stare at him while he does it.

He seems like he’s fully comfortable being here, but then who would really know? Kyran has always been a bit of a closed book, so it’s hard to tell what’s going on in his head at any given moment. I’d like to think I’ve gotten to know him more over the last few weeks, but even so, he’s not usually one to voice his emotions.

He keeps them bottled up inside, which is never a good thing when you’re developing strong feelings for the bottler.

What are you hiding inside that pretty head of yours, baby?

Will it have you running from me again?

“You didn’t have to make my bed for me.” I fold my arms over my chest while he secures the clean sheets on my mattress.

“Well, you’re kind of a slob.” He shoots me a smirk. “I just wanted to make sure it got done right.”

“Excuse you,” I huff. “I am very clean.”

“Right…” He chuckles. “You’re about as clean as The Dude.”

My laughter brings a sweet curve to his lips. Spinning, he traipses out of the room, and I have no choice but to follow him.

“Are you going to put on actual clothes?” I grin, biting my lip at the sight of his perfect peach of a booty in my black Calvins and nothing else.

“Are you complaining?” He pins me with a sly look before plopping onto the couch, grabbing the TV remote.

“That doesn’t sound like something I would do.” I sit down next to him while he chuckles.

We’re both on one cushion because Robin is currently snoozing on the other side, taking up a majority of the couch. Kyran glances at her and scoffs, shaking his head, though he’s smiling pleasantly while he searches for something for us to watch. He stops on one of the ESPN channels I didn’t even know I had.

“I’m starving.” His face slopes. “Will you order us some food?”

“Happy to.”

I rush off to get my phone. And when I return to the room, I find him petting Robin’s furry little head while she sleeps.

I’m swooning so hard, I’m like the heart-eyed emoji personified.

“What would you like to eat, gorgeous thing?” I kneel next to him on the couch while swiping through DoorDash. “Burgers, tacos… Ooh my God, this place makes the best fried chicken…”

“Avi, can we please eat something healthy?” he whines. “I have a massively important game next week. I don’t want to be weighed down by all the junk food I consume when I’m with you.”

“Weighed down??” I huff a baffled chuckle. “Your body is fucking insane, Kyran. You’re probably like, what… seven percent body fat?” He frowns at me, and I blink. “I’m sorry… Is that too much?”

“For me, yes,” he grunts. “I need to be in prime shape for this game. No fucking around.”

“Okay, well, we did just spend eighteen hours burning tons of calories, so I think you’ll be fine.” I smirk, and he returns the look with one of faux amusement.

“Just no fast food or excessive trans fats, please.” He curls himself around me, dropping kisses all over my neck. “For me?”

“Fine,” I grumble. “You see what I do for you?? What do you want to eat, babe?”

“Mmm… Sushi?”

I make a face, but I concede… because they do have those delicious fried pork dumplings. I could just order, like, fifty of those.

“Sushi it is, for my chiseled man and all eight of his friends.” I poke each one of his abs, and he growls, slapping my hand away.

“You joke, but sushi actually has a lot of starch,” he points out, and I just stare blankly at him. “From the rice…”

“Ah, the rice,” I tease, and he chuckles, play smacking me on the jaw.

Then I smack him back. And this goes on for minutes before I finally call a truce so I can order his damn sushi.

“Can we not watch this?” I complain some more, propped with my back against the arm of the couch while he lies between my legs, playing with my hands. “It’s boring. I’m sure MTV is running episodes of Catfish on a loop…”

When he doesn’t answer me, I peer down to where he’s gazing at my palm, running his fingertip along the center.

“I have this line too,” he whispers. “Except mine curves around here… Like the way Comm Ave runs up over campus.”

I give him a puzzled look, but he doesn’t notice it. Because he’s too busy studying the lines on my palm.

“Do you read palms or something?” I ask, bemused. “Because that would be very uncharacteristic of you.”

His eyes flit to mine, and he tilts his head as if he’s considering whether or not to tell me something. He smiles shyly, scooting up farther between my legs.

“Promise not to make fun of me?” His lashes flutter, and he bites his lip.

I’m barely breathing right now. “I promise.”

Lifting his hand, he turns his palm to face me. “Sometimes I do this thing where I imagine the lines on my palm are streets I know. See? Like this one can be 93, or the Pike.” He drags his fingertip up a line, then points to another. “This one is Hyland. See here, how it splits off like College Ave over by Davis Square? And you can follow it into Cambridge…”

The way his eyes are sort of lit up over this has me reeling.

I’m not sure why, when, or how he ever started doing this, but it’s safe to say I’m completely mesmerized by it. And by the mere fact that he’s sharing it with me…

This strange little quirk, this peculiar, fully adorable vulnerability that I’m almost positive he’s never shared with anyone before.

I can’t even find words to speak, and my silence must trip him up, because he glances at me, unease framing his hazel eyes. “I’m a total weirdo, right? It’s okay, you can just say it…”

“Oh…” I shake my head, grabbing him by the wrists before he can squirm away in humiliation. “Ohh no, no, no. This is so very bad… Is superstar quarterback Kyran Harbor cute??” I gasp, and his visible dread retreats, a small smile tugging at his lips. “This is going to make it virtually impossible for me to ever hate you again!”

His grin widens while I kiss both of his palms. But he bites it away, forcing one of his scowls. “I’m sure if you try real hard, you can find your way back there.”

“Nope. Please don’t grouch all over this new image I have of you,” I hum, and he chuckles, trying to rip his hands away. But I won’t let him. “Seriously, this is detrimental, Kyran. If you’re not careful, you might just weasel your way out of enemy territory and into the land of friends.”

Slowly releasing my grip, I lower his hands onto my chest, and he takes one of mine back, drawing more lines over my palm.

“And what happens… when you leave that place?” He peeks up at me for a split second before returning to my hand, a nervous, almost innocent air about him while he chews on his bottom lip. “Is that the end of the line? Friend Land?”

My heart is lurching slowly up my throat as I shake my head. “I think there might be another place. But… no one’s ever been there.” He blinks wide eyes at me. “It’s pretty vacant.”

“Like an abandoned amusement park?” he murmurs quietly, and I nod.

“Yea. I’ve never met anyone who just… went there willingly.”

“If I wanted to go…” he says, barely audibly with his lips shivering mere inches from mine. “Would you take me?”

I can barely even fathom what we’re talking about… What we’re dancing around like two relationship virgins, too terrified to say the actual words.

But my pulse is racing, and my fingers are twitching with what I think he’s asking me.

“If you were sure…” I whisper, the air around us growing hazy with something other than lust. Something deeper and scarier… More potent. “If you were… comfortable going there…” I gulp. “It would be your call, Ky. Because there’s absolutely no way I could keep you out.”

He makes a soft noise, inching up to my lips to press the sweetest, most unsure confession of a kiss on my mouth. In an instant, we’re both panting, hands clasped together while our lips move in mutual apprehension.

Is this really what he wants…?

Could Kyran Harbor actually want to be more than just my stepbrother who hates me, my business partner, or even my friend?

It’s always seemed impossible to consider, but here we are… Kissing and touching, and it has absolutely nothing to do with sex, or money. This is about emotion, which we seem to have spilling over at the moment.

It’s been happening slowly for a while… this change that suddenly seems so drastic.

We don’t hate each other. Far from it.

In fact, I think we might…

My phone starts ringing, startling us both out of the reverie we were working up to together. Kyran crawls back, breathing heavily while I answer the phone.

“H-hello?” I stutter, trying to shake myself out of it.

“Yea, hey, it’s DoorDash,” a guy says over the phone. “I’m downstairs.”

“Shit… fuck.” I jump up, darting into the bedroom to put on actual clothes. “Sorry. I’ll be right down.”

The guy chuckles at my cursing, but I hang up before he can say anything else, slipping my hat on my head and stepping into my sneakers.

“The food’s here,” I tell Kyran on my way to the door. “I’ll be right back.”

He nods, staring at nothing with his bottom lip pinched between his thumb and forefinger, as if he’s deeply reeling from what just happened.

I’m sure he is. It was very intense.

But I don’t have time to think about it right now, because I need to go grab his food.

Downstairs, I find a guy with a plastic bag standing in the lobby. He’s pretty young… Actually, he looks like he might be in college himself, though I don’t recognize him.

He smirks as I stalk over, taking the bag from him.

“Sorry about that.” I flash him a smile that’s only slightly flustered.

“Don’t worry about it.” His own grin widens a bit, and I’m frozen in place for a second, because call me crazy, but is he giving me the flirty eyes?

The dude glances up at my hat, narrowing his gaze as he slowly looks me over.

Okay, this is weird. Is he checking me out?? I need to leave.

“Holy shit,” he whispers, face lighting up. “It’s you! Hey!”

My eyebrow arches, and I give him a look like he might be a li’l loco. “Uh… I’m sorry. Have we met?”

“No, no.” He chuckles, keeping his voice down as he leans in closer. “I subscribe to your OnlyFans.”

All the color drains from my face. I feel it happening as I stand there, frozen, clutching a bag of takeout.

“I’m obsessed with your content,” he goes on, having a little fanboy moment. And I’m freaking the fuck out inside. “I love you and Not_Your_Baby together.” He glances around the room. “Are you with him right now??”

Something snaps me back into focus, and I shake my head, forcing the most polite smile I can manage while I back away from him slowly. “Um… yea. I mean, no! No, I’m… Hey, thanks for the food. It’s always great to… meet a… fan.”

The words are barely out of my mouth before I’m turning and high-tailing it out of there. I almost make it to the elevator, but a familiar female voice stops me.


Whipping around, my eyes bug out of my head at Frankie, who’s clomping over to me in her black furry boots.

“Shhh!” I look to the door where my fan is leaving, throwing another excited grin my way.

“What’s your problem?” Frankie huffs.

“Jesus fucking Christ, my name… You said my name.” I rub my eyes. “He probably heard you. Now he’s gonna tell everyone. Oh God, fuck me.”

Who heard me? Why are you freaking out…” She pushes the button for the elevator. “Did you already talk to Zeb??”

I give her a puzzled look. “No. Why… What happened to Zeb?”

“Nothing happened to him,” she whispers, looking around before she says, “Look, I came here to talk to you. Shit might be hitting the fan a little…”

There’s a very sickening feeling of unease slinking around my gut as the elevator pings and I step inside, pressing the button for my floor. “I really wish you would’ve called first…”

“I tried texting you.” She follows me inside. “You didn’t answer.” She leans up against the wall while the doors slowly close. “Why did you leave before midnight last night?? Were you going to meet up with Kyran?”

I don’t even have the energy to lie or make up some story right now, sighing, “Yea. He came over. And he’s still here, so you can’t stay.”

Frankie gasps, her mouth stretching into an elated smile as she does this little hop. “Oh my God, are you two in love?!”

“What?! No!” I hiss. “Shut up, okay?? Don’t pull that shit in front of him. He’ll totally freak out.”

“Sorry, sorry.” She nods, visibly collecting herself, though she’s still shimmying around while the elevator comes to a stop. “But he spent the night! That has to mean something, Avi. You guys aren’t just fucking anymore.”

“I can’t do this right now,” I grumble, barely waiting for the doors to open all the way before I’m lunging through and power-walking up the hall. “Stay here for one sec.”

Slipping inside my dorm, I close the door in her face before she can try to push her way inside. Kyran is still sitting on the couch, his knee bouncing while he stares at the TV.

Gnawing nervously on my lip, I wander over with his food. “Hey, so, uh… Frankie’s here.”

He stands up fast. “She’s here??” I nod. “Can’t you tell her to leave?”

I shake my head, nodding toward the door. “She’s right outside.”

“What the fuck…” he grunts under his breath, stalking quickly into the bedroom, I’m assuming to get dressed.

“So I’ll just leave your food… here?” I drop the bag onto the coffee table, wringing my hands over and over.

I have to tell him about the delivery guy who recognized me. And I’m sure he won’t be pleased. But I guess I should deal with Frankie first, and whatever shitstorm she decided to bring over, unannounced.

“Babe…” I call to Kyran, wandering over to the bedroom. “Are you dressed?”

I hear him shuffling around in there before he swings open the bedroom door, glaring at me. “Can you not call me babe when she’s here, please?”

I roll my eyes. “Kyran, it’s Frankie. We had a fucking threesome with her. She’s not going to say anything to anyone…”

He rubs his eyes, and I feel bad. He’s obviously stressed about this, not ready to be thrust into this situation. Which sucks because I thought we were making some progress only minutes ago.

Why does it always feel like one step forward, two steps back with him?

Frankie starts pounding on the door. “Are you bitches really just gonna leave me out here?!”

Growling, I stomp over to the door, opening it fast and letting her impatient ass inside. “Jesus, Frankie. Be a little bit more of a nuisance, why don’t you.”

“I’m sorry. But this couldn’t wait.” She flings her face in Kyran’s direction, grinning while he shifts awkwardly on his feet. “Hi, Ky. How are you doing, precious?”

He scowls at her, but it’s nowhere near as intimidating as usual when he’s blushing at the fact that she obviously knows why he’s here.

“Can you leave him alone, please?” I rumble. “What’s the issue?? We were just about to eat…”

“Okay, well, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news while you two are cozied up playing house…” She pulls her vape out of her coat pocket and rips a long drag. “But I just thought you might like to know that Zeb found your OnlyFans.”

“He what?!” Kyran barks, eyes widening in terror.

“Kyran, will you please just go eat your food?” I hiss at him. “I’m handling this.” He pins me with a glare, and I gulp, instantly backpedaling. “I’m sorry, baby.” I try to rub his shoulder, but he rips away from me. “That was rude… I didn’t mean it. I just don’t want you to worry, okay? Enjoy your dinner—”

“Avi, I don’t care about the fucking dinner!” he seethes.

Baby.” Frankie pouts. “You two are so cute together.”

“You, shut up.” I point at her, then return to Kyran, who’s clearly freaking out, and I need to get a handle on it. “Zeb is one of my best friends, Kyran. He won’t tell anyone, I swear to God.” I peer at Frankie for confirmation. “Right?”

She nods firmly. “Totally. Zeb would never say anything.” Kyran’s shoulders un-hunch just a bit. Until Frankie adds, “But I think I should also tell you that he found it because a friend of his sent him the link…”

“What friend?” I gasp. “Do they go to BC??”

Frankie gives us both a sympathetic look, purposely not responding, which answers the question for her. My face drops into my hands.

“Holy fuck…” Kyran whispers. “This is it. My life is fucking over…”

“No. No, no, no, I wouldn’t say that,” Frankie tries to pacify him, but it’s obviously not working. “It’s just a couple people. And it doesn’t mean anyone’s gonna find out it’s you!”

She shouts the words after him, because now he’s storming around the dorm.

“What are you doing?” I ask him nervously while he emerges from the bedroom with his phone in his hand.

“Deactivating the Twitter,” he grunts, fingers visibly shaking as he taps on the screen. “You need to do yours too. Right fucking now, Avi. I’m not kidding.”

I nod slowly. “Okay…”

Pulling my phone out, I open the Twitter app and pull up my Backwardz_Cap account. Two-hundred thousand followers, down the drain.

Jesus… No wonder people are figuring this shit out. We’re in the top .3 percent of OnlyFans…

“Alright, it’s deactivated,” I tell him, and he shakes his head like he’s not satisfied.

“Now the Fans…” he demands, and I have to gape at him for a second.

“Kyran… Just hold on. Can’t we just… talk about this for a minute?”

Talk about it??” he shouts. “What is there to talk about?! Avi, this is my life. My fucking future is on the line here!”

“I know.” I scrape a hand over my face. “I know that, and I know you’re scared, but let’s just think about this for a second…”

“Are you fucking serious right now?” he hisses, coming at me until he’s so close I can feel him vibrating. “How is this even a debate, Avi?? Delete the fucking account. Now.”

My eyes flick over to Frankie, who’s hovering, looking all kinds of uncomfortable. “Frankie, can you please give us a minute?”

She nods, and leaves the dorm, stepping out into the hall. I’m not sure if she’s sticking around or just going home… I kind of want to talk to her and find out how bad she thinks this is.

But I don’t have time for that right now. Because Kyran is spinning out.

“This is all your fucking fault…” he mumbles, stalking back and forth, ripping his hair in his fists.

My fault??” I gasp, shocked by what he’s saying. “You cannot possibly blame me for this…”

“You should’ve been more careful, Avi!” he roars. “You should’ve blurred your face, too. Because how long until someone we know puts two and two together?? You know it wouldn’t be that difficult.”

I falter for a second, a wave of hurt and anger and guilt crashing over me like a tsunami.

“You’re barely even in the subscription content, though… Only the PPV videos,” I mumble, chewing on my lip because I know it’s not entirely true.

His Twitter account never showed his face. Mine did on occasion… But the OnlyFans definitely showed mine. All you’d have to do is pay twelve dollars to see my face. I always blurred Kyran’s, even in the exclusive content, but still… Recently, there have been more posts of us together, outside of the pay-per-view.

Because it stopped being about the money, and started being about us.

Like the picture of Kyran snuggling up on my chest. His face isn’t visible, but now that I’m thinking about it, it wouldn’t be outside of the realm of possibility for someone to figure out that it’s my stepbrother in those pictures and videos.

“Are you just hellbent on fucking destroying me??” he growls. “Is that it?!”

“You sound crazy right now…” I mutter.

Delete the fucking account, Avi, or so help me…”

“You’re overreacting,” I bark at him. “I’ll call Zeb! I’ll talk to his friend and find out what he knows. It’s not serious enough to flush it all down the fucking toilet!”

He covers his face with his hands and roars into them. “Avi! Wake up! We have made plenty of fucking money off this! Enough is enough, we have to let it go now!”

“It’s not about the fucking money!” I snap, aiming a desperate glare at him.

He stares at me, chest heaving in his state of furious duress.

“It’s not about the money…” My voice loses all traces of anger, slipping into pleading hopelessness as I whisper, “It’s about us.”

Kyran gapes at me, and I can tell there’s a war going on inside him… Between the part of him that understands exactly what I’m talking about, and the part that doesn’t want to. Stepping up to him, I place my hands on his chest, feeling the heat in his body and the shivers from his nerves.

“Ky… this account is us. It’s the whole story, played out for people who have loved watching us together. People who think we’re special.” I pause, swallowing over the raw vulnerability in my tone. “I know you’re used to people fawning over you, but I’m not, okay?? I never get that, from anyone but them. The fans. They think we’re fucking perfect, and it’s not just about the sex… I’ve gotten messages from people telling me how watching our videos gave them the courage to come to terms with their sexuality… From people who say they felt scared, and alone, but watching us helped them…”

My voice shudders as I choke back the emotion enough to tell him, “And I’ve gotten messages from people who said they could feel our connection… That seeing me and you together is more special than a million other videos of people fucking.”

My hand slides up to cup his jaw. “And I agree, baby. This isn’t about the sex, or the money anymore. It’s about Kyran and Avi, and I don’t… I don’t want to give this up if it means I’ll lose you, too.”

I have to drop my face, because I’m scared to death to look at him right now. I feel like I’ve been split open at the middle, all of my ugly insecurities exposed like a soft underbelly.

“Avi…” his coarse voice whispers as he takes my hands in his. “I am begging you to delete that account. Please, just think about me and my future… The NFL. Put the rest of it aside, just for right now, and think about how much this could fuck me over if someone found out.”

My chest caves, and I close my eyes. It feels like I just ripped my heart out of my chest and handed it to him… And he’s talking about fucking football.

“Did you even hear anything I just said…?” I step back, bending at the waist and covering my head with my arms, because everything hurts.

“Yes. I did… Of course I did,” he mumbles. “But I’m just saying that, for right now, it’s not about us, it’s about me.”

“Jesus Christ, could you sound any more selfish…” I straighten and roll my eyes to the goddamn heavens.

He’s being such a fucking prick right now. And I feel like a moron for even being surprised by it, because I should’ve known this would happen.

Me?? You think I’m being selfish?!” he snarls. “Avi, you’re trying to convince me to leave videos that could damn my NFL career to a fiery pit of Hell up on the internet as some sort of declaration of my feelings for you, and it’s fucking ludicrous! This isn’t about usWe aren’t in those videos. That’s Backwardz_Cap and Not_Your_Baby. And I need you to see that, and fucking take it down before I lose everything I’ve been working for my whole life, and there is no more Kyran Harbor fucking left at all!”

Shaking my head, I feel defeated. I can’t say I don’t understand what he’s saying, because I do. But I’m just… sick. He clearly doesn’t see what I see…

We are in those videos. And I’m not ready to lose them… The proof that we’re something more.

Even so, I don’t have much of a choice. I won’t be responsible for ruining his career, and I already feel guilty enough as it is, because for some reason, I can shake the idea that I got him into this whole thing to begin with.

“Fine. Whatever.” I grab my phone and pull up the OnlyFans, tapping the button to deactivate. I’m not even really paying attention to what I’m doing, I’m just pressing buttons until it tells me the account is down. Then I mutter, “It’s done. Happy?”

My eyes fling to his, and I watch as he lets out a long breath of relief, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

And we just stare at each other, for minutes on end, with nothing to say.

It shouldn’t feel different, in theory. But it does.

In the tap of a few buttons, it’s like a spell was broken. And part of me expects him to run away, like a hostage whose chains have finally been undone.

“So…” He visibly swallows down his uncertainty and asks, “What happens now?”

I just sigh and shake my head, wandering toward the living room. “Whatever the fuck you want, Kyran.”

He stands, hovering across the room for suffocating moments of time before he mumbles, “Maybe I should just go…”

My eyes close and my jaw clenches. How did I know he’d say that…

I don’t speak another word. I can’t. I just stare at the TV while he grabs his coat and puts on his shoes, each and every movement like a cleaver hacking away at chunks from inside my chest.

“See ya, Avi,” he murmurs on his way out.

And I just sit, numb. Empty and alone…

In my abandoned amusement park.

“Just eat some of this… It’s really good.”

“Can’t eat. Too pissed,” I grunt, filling my lungs with as much smoke as I possibly can before I choke to death.

“Avi, listen to me,” Frankie says, turning to face me on the couch. “I know you’re upset right now because you think Kyran doesn’t care about you. But just give him some time. You guys started the OnlyFans to make money, and it turned into something neither of you expected. That’s not just going to disappear because you’re no longer filming content together.”

“Then why did he leave?” I mutter robotically, gulping back the memory of him walking out the door. “If he actually cared about me, as more than just a fuck-buddy slash business partner, then he would have stayed. He said he wanted to… stay.”

“You had a fight,” she sighs, using chopsticks to pick up one of Kyran’s spicy tuna rolls. “He probably felt awkward and didn’t know how to handle it. He’ll be back.”

“You don’t know him like I do.” I shake my head. “He’s too closed off. Hung-up on being straight and popular and fucking celebrated for his talents…” Everything I’m not. “He cares more about that stuff than he could ever care about…” My voice trails and I sniff. “Whatever…”

“I’m really sorry you’re going through this, muffin.” Frankie rubs my back, and it’s all I can do not to break the fuck down.

Only twenty minutes after Kyran left, Frankie came back. She said she was lingering around outside just in case I ended up needing her, and never in my life have I been so fucking grateful for her meddling ways.

I don’t want to be alone right now. I can’t stand the cluttered agony of my sullen thoughts.

“Do you…” she starts, then pauses, long enough for me to peer at her. “Do you think you love him?”

I pull a deep inhale, letting it out as a sigh of sorrow. “Yea, probably.”

“How did that happen, Av?” she asks, not prying, or judging, or even looking for details. She’s just asking the question, and I don’t blame her.

To the outside world, Kyran and I were just stepbrothers who hate each other. No one else knows what’s been going on these past few months. Not even Frankie, who thought we were just fucking for the money.

The fans watched the real stuff happen… the looks and the touches and the parts between the sex. They saw something more. But even they didn’t see the last few days…

Christmakkah, the drive-in… pretty much everything leading up to an hour ago.

No one else saw me falling in love with him…

“It turned into more,” I whisper. “I guess we peeled back some layers or something, and it just… I don’t know. It changed.”

Frankie shifts on the couch. “I’m gonna say something… and you might get pissed at me for it, but whatever. Do your worst,” she says firmly. “Nothing changed, Avi. You and Kyran have had chemistry from the fucking start. I saw it. The fans saw it. That’s what had them begging for you two to get together. People can play-act hot sex all they want, with rehearsed moves, special lighting, and camera work in fancy locations… Giving the appearance of real passion. But you two had something no one in this whole online sex-work game has…”

I roll my head in her direction, lifting my brows in wait.

“You actually fucking want each other,” she says. “For real. It wasn’t an act between you two. It never was… Not even close. Whether you claim you hated each other is irrelevant. You never actually did.”

I’m staring at her for several heavy seconds, my lips parting while my limbs shake. I have no real words to say other than the obvious… I do love him.

I have no idea how it happened, but it did, and now I just want him back.

But before any of it can come out, the sound of keys jingling in the door pulls our attention to the right. It swings open, and in stalks a tall dude with dark hair and a vaguely familiar face, carrying a duffel bag.

He steps inside, drops the bag with a thunk, and tilts his head at us. “I’m your roommate… Ash Holloway.” We’re both just gawking at him. And he grins. “Sorry I’m late.”


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