Ethan, Who Loved Carter (16 page)

He grabbed and sucked and his brain said,
“Hey, stupid, that’s not what you want,”
and Carter said, “Oh, yeah,” and with Ethan laughing and saying, “Carter,” Carter scooted down Ethan’s body. He sealed his lips around Ethan’s cock and sucked him to orgasm. His hands jerked over Ethan’s hips, not because of Tourette’s for once, but because he couldn’t get enough, couldn’t decide if he wanted to hold Ethan down or signal him to fuck his face, gentle pushes upward, enough for Carter to feel stretched in his jaw, to feel full and used and needed and happy. He sucked Ethan clean and might have stayed down there nuzzled between Ethan’s thigh and his semi-erect cock, but Ethan nudged him back up to his mouth. Carter rolled into the kiss, but he couldn’t move after. He rested his head on Ethan’s chest and rubbed through Ethan’s chest hair, circling his pale rose-colored nipple.

“Carter? Are you crying? Did I hurt your jaw?” Ethan sounded worried. He gave Carter an awkward pat on his cheek.

Carter touched his face. Was he? He wasn’t the type to get emotional. He’d never cried after sex. His fingers came away wet. “No. I don’t know why I’m crying. I just, I don’t know. I’m not hurt, all right? I’m happy.”

“You are?”

“Yeah. I’m really happy.” He touched Ethan’s face. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

He stared into Ethan’s eyes. “Making me feel this way.”

“Carter? You make me happy too.”

Carter reached for the blankets. He covered them both and lay back down with Ethan. Ethan made an effort to clean up himself and Carter, but gave up after a few sleepy swipes. Carter found his spot—already thinking of it as his spot—against Ethan’s chest and drifted away listening to Ethan breathe. Ethan placed his hand over Carter’s heart and kept it there.

I
N
THE
morning, Carter woke up with Ethan’s cock nudging his ass. Ethan was flush against him, his arm around Carter’s waist. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah,” Carter said. “Barely.”

“Can we have sex now?”

“Bathroom first, then sex.”

Naked, they stumbled into the bathroom together, Ethan brushing his teeth while Carter peed and then switching places. “I want to be inside you, okay?” Ethan asked as he washed his hands after using the toilet.

Carter pulled the toothbrush out of his mouth. “That’s what I was hoping for.”

“Good.” Ethan dried his hands and tapped his foot until Carter wiped the last of the toothpaste foam off his mouth. “Now?”

“Yes,
please
.” Grabbing Carter’s elbow, Ethan yanked him down the hall and tossed him back onto the bed as Carter laughed. Rolling onto his stomach, he pushed up onto his hands and knees. Last night had been a good start, but Carter was as eager as Ethan to get to the main event. However, being in Ethan’s parents’ bed was weird and Carter was
not
thinking about the implications of Nolan and Liz’s sex life behind the drawer opening that he now heard, nor the fact that shortly after Ethan began to open him with slick fingers.

Not thinking about Ethan knowing where his parents kept the lube.

Not thinking about Ethan’s parents
having
lube.

Nope. Opening his legs and keeping his mind shut. Yessir. Ethan was good with his fingers and pretty soon Carter stopped caring where the lube had come from. Ethan giggled when Carter begged, which was sexier than it should have been, but it was a long time since Carter had had sex with someone who thought it was ridiculous and fun, and Carter hadn’t realized how much he’d missed that. He heard a condom packet rip and then Ethan pressed against him. Carter knew Ethan was big, but the initial penetration still took his breath away. Ethan sank in, slow, and stayed there until Carter gasped out that he could keep going. After a few strokes, Ethan pulled out, turned Carter over, threw his legs up to his chest (not flexible enough for that in the morning, holy crap) and pushed in again. Sweet spot found, Carter lost control. Only Ethan’s arms on either side of him stopped him from rolling off the bed. That, and the fact that it was a huge bed. He could flop like a beached fish on it to his heart’s content and not fall off. If they were on Ethan’s twin-size bed, Carter would have had a concussion by now.

“Do you like it?” Ethan asked. He paused the thrusting.

“Yes,” Carter said.

“Me too,” Ethan said.

“Touch me.” Carter must have said it; he made a sound of some type, anyway, which resulted in Ethan wrapping his fingers around Carter’s cock and giving him something to fuck into as Ethan filled him, the stretch always there, no reprieve, but perfect and he could do this forever, he
could
, and this was so much better than last night. Carter loved Ethan’s cock stretching him; he wanted it in his mouth again, but this was so good too, better in some ways because it kept his mouth free for Ethan to kiss. He lifted up, abs squeezing to get his mouth close to Ethan’s, to Ethan’s lips and tongue and yes, that there, Ethan in the morning fucking and kissing him and Carter tensed, down in his groin, in his gut, Ethan felt it too because he groaned and patted a clumsy hand against Carter’s face, and Carter knew it wasn’t because of Ethan’s regular clumsiness, but for the same reason Carter could jerk and twitch and not blame the Tourette’s.

Carter had made him do that. He’d made Ethan lose control. He laughed into Ethan’s kiss and rocked his hips up, folded himself even more in half, still hurt, still almost impossible, but he didn’t care that he’d regret it when he needed to get up, and his come coated Ethan’s chest and Carter’s stomach. Carter went limp. He fell backward on the bed. Ethan kept moving inside him until he came, too, squeezing Carter’s ankles and pushed in deep with a look of wonder and love on his face that Carter wanted seared into his memory to comfort him on lonely nights or whenever he started feeling low. Love? Carter hadn’t had any idea what it was, but now, he looked at Ethan and found a thousand definitions for it. He drifted on this new information as Ethan pulled out. He winced against the sudden cold when Ethan stopped covering him with his body. Ethan pulled the covers up. Carter snuggled into them. He was almost asleep when Ethan kissed his cheek.

“Hey. Sleepy.”

“Hey.” Carter answered without opening his eyes.

“I’m going to shower.”

“Okay.”

Carter stayed a few minutes more, lazing in the warm covers. The sound of Ethan’s shower finally prompted him to move. He stripped the sheets off the bed and pulled his boxers on.

As walks of shame went, this was the shortest he’d ever done, but given that it ended with Elliot staring at him as Carter stood in his underwear holding Liz and Nolan’s sheets in front of him as both evidence and shield, it ranked number one as most embarrassing. Elliot had apparently slept in the basement, which was where the washing machine was. “Uh,” Carter said. “Thought I’d do laundry.” He shoved the sheets inside the machine, turned it on, and fled.

“Forgot the soap,” Elliot called after him.

Carter didn’t go back. He ran back up to the bedroom, sat down and tried not to hyperventilate.
Why wasn’t Elliot in school?
He glanced at the clock. Six forty-five. Oh. Too early. Carter righted the Harts’ photo on the nightstand. Grabbing his shirt, he went down to the kitchen.

Just his luck, Elliot was there, now scarfing down cereal like he was afraid someone would take it from him. Carter did, just to be obstinate. Elliot didn’t try to snatch it back. He waited until Carter had a mouthful of Frosted Flakes before he said, “Did you enjoy it?”

“It’s the same as always.” Carter poked the flakes. “They didn’t change the recipe, did they?”

“I meant fucking my brother.”

Carter’s words disappeared and suddenly the spoon was across the table, snapped out of Carter’s hand by one tic as his other hand danced next to his head, hovered at his temple and tapped him
tap tap tap
, head jerk, twice, as Carter squeezed his eyes shut. When it passed, Elliot had that same bored look on. “That wasn’t because of you,” Carter said, angry that Elliot might think so. “It’s what I do.”

“Ethan’s an idiot,” Elliot said.

“You’re an asshole,” Carter blurted. “Where do you get off calling him that? Just because he’s not like you….”

Elliot got up so fast he sent his own spoon flying. He leaned over the table, pale face an inch from Carter. “He’s an idiot because he keeps sleeping with guys who don’t give a shit about him and he doesn’t even know. He’s got a big dick and assholes can’t think about anything except how to get it inside them. And yeah, I know what I just said and yes, I mean it.” Elliot’s voice shook, giving away the grief behind his anger. Carter ducked his head rather than push him away.

“I’m not like that,” he said.

Elliot dropped back into his seat. “Sure. Let’s see how long you stick around now.”

“I promise.” Carter risked a look. His foot discovered it could kick off from the chair’s crossbar and found a rhythm wholly inappropriate to the serious conversation above it. “Elliot. I mean it.”

Elliot grabbed the milk and got up. He shoved it into the refrigerator and slammed the door. “Whatever, man. See you when I get home if you’re still here.”

After he left, Carter retrieved the milk. He sat down to finish eating, but his cereal was soggy. He couldn’t think about anything except the men who’d used Ethan, and how Ethan hadn’t known. Carter had no doubt that Elliot was right about that. And Elliot had been around all along to pick up after Ethan’s broken heart. For the first time, Carter started to feel bad for him. Fifteen-year-old kid shouldn’t have to fix his older brother’s heartbreak. Should be the other way around.

Maybe if Ethan and Carter stayed together, Carter could be Elliot’s big brother and do for him what Ethan couldn’t. He and Ethan could be a team. That would be nice.

“Ooh, Frosted Flakes!” Ethan bounced into the room in a pink bathrobe that stopped midthigh and didn’t close enough to cover his chest, looking like Cary Grant in that movie where he says, “I’ve gone gay all of a sudden.”

“Your mom’s?” Carter guessed.

“Yeah.” Ethan slid into the seat next to him. He touched Carter’s shoulders and looked into his eyes. “What are you thinking about? You look sad.”

“Elliot’s worried I’m going to break your heart.”

“Oh.” Ethan pushed his forehead to Carter’s. “Me too.”

“I won’t.” Carter slid his hands up Ethan’s knees. “As long as I can help it, I won’t.”

“Yeah?”

“Just… Ethan?”

“What?”

Carter took a breath. “Don’t break mine.”

Ethan studied him, sincere and unblinking. “I promise.”

C
ARTER
spent the day at his home with a stack of work. Ethan spent most of it with him, intermittently working on their song and making out with Carter. Ethan had been enthusiastic when Carter kissed him as they sat on the couch, but he grew still when Carter, caught up in desire, rubbed Ethan’s crotch.

“Carter….”

“What’s wrong?” Carter asked. He scooted away to give Ethan room.

Ethan twisted his hands together. “I want to have sex with you everywhere. But I can’t have my penis out except in the bathroom or the bedroom.”

“Is that the rule in your house?”

Ethan stared at him as if Carter were one short of a full set. “It’s the rule, period.”

“Well, what if we made up a special rule for this house? Would that be okay?”

Ethan looked cautious, as if rule-making didn’t normally go well for him. “What kind of rule?”

“What if we said that in this house, as long as it’s only the two of us here, we can have sex whenever both of us want it, in whatever room we want?”

“That sounds good.”

Carter moved closer. “Then let’s get started.”

Ethan laughed when Carter licked his neck. “Carter!”

Carter didn’t make much progress in his work. He planned to make up for that after Ethan left for the coffee shop in the afternoon. Liz and Nolan were due back in the evening. Carter had promised to go over for dinner and stay until they arrived, just in case Ethan or Elliot needed him. For now, they lounged in Carter’s living room, Ethan in his sweatpants and shirtless and Carter in his boxer shorts and Ethan’s T-shirt.

“We could have sex again after I get home from work,” Ethan said.

Carter winced. They’d done it twice since getting to Carter’s house. Waiting until evening should give him time to recover, but… “Your parents are coming back. I don’t want them asking why I can’t walk.”

Ethan looked proud, the jerk.

“Hand jobs?” Carter asked.

“Okay.” Ethan pulled a bottle of eye liner out of his pocket and set it on the coffee table. “Can we try this tonight?”

Carter picked it up. “On me or on you?”

Ethan grinned. “I already know what I look like in it.” He leaned in for a kiss. “Mike helped me with it.”

Carter pushed down the familiar jealousy. Ethan didn’t notice flirting; he wouldn’t think there was anything wrong with another man touching his face, with another man telling him he looked good. He put the bottle down. “Sure, but if you make me look like a two-bit whore, my mama will have words with you.”