Page 36 of If the World Was Ending

“Yeah. You almost lost yours.”

“Yeah.” Colby was not lifting his gaze.

Hunter felt it like a caress, and it was doing things to him. His cock was waking up. Somewhere in the back of his brain, an alarm bell went off because he had a friendship to protect. But it was muffled by this tornado of other things—like the memory of Colby’s perky round ass when his shorts fell, and his dripping, glistening chest, and… the way he was currently biting his bottom lip.

“You getting up?” Hunter asked, and his voice was oddly deeper than normal.

Colby stood quickly, ignoring Hunter’s outstretched hand, which he was offering for assistance. Colby spun immediately toward the bathroom. “Gotta dry off.”

Hunter followed. He grabbed his bath towel off the hook by the shower as Colby grabbed his off the hook that used to be Leandra’s. Colby rubbed the towel over his long, dripping hair. His eyes were closed, so Hunter used the moment to stare. Those soaked shorts were still trying to fall off, and Hunter’s dark eyes fixated on Colby’s ridiculously over-pronounced gutters that made the most glorious V at his narrow waist. Women lost their shit over muscles that did that. Hunter had it too, but not as pronounced, and he was envious… and mesmerized. And that fucking treasure trail… Hunter would understand if women got turned on by that too. Hunter didn’t have much body hair, but the envy wasn’t that he wanted that hair on himself. He just wanted to run his fingers over Colby’s, which was insane, and he knew it.

“So, you’re confused?”

“What?” Colby pulled the towel down over his shoulders. His eyes slid up to Hunter’s eyes, just for a second, before moving away.

“You called yourself sexually confused.” Hunter needed to let this go, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t for selfish, horrible reasons that might ruin this friendship. Was this the weed? Making him so… fixated? Obsessed? Horny.

“I mean, whatever…” Colby continued to dry himself. Hunter hadn’t moved. The towel was in his hands, but he was still dripping on the burgundy floor tiles. He needed to keep the towel in front of his waist so Colby didn’t see how big his dick had gotten. Colby looked down at his own shorts. “I need to get out of these.”

Colby moved his long fingers from the towel around his neck to the waistband of his sagging shorts. He slipped his fingers under the elastic and paused, looking directly at Hunter through impossibly long, pale lashes. Hunter cleared his throat awkwardly. “I… I’ll… go…? Right?”

“I mean… I’m fine if you stay.”

He just stared at Hunter. Hunter’s face got impossibly hot, and he nervously ran his tongue across his bottom lip, but he didn’t move. Not an inch. Colby hooked his waistband and pushed the soaked fabric over the swell of his butt. Gravity did the rest.

Of course, Hunter looked. It was completely and utterly impossible to fight that kind of primal urge. His dark eyes dropped. Colby’s cut cock was surrounded by neatly trimmed, golden brown hair, and it was also half hard.

“See? Confused,” Colby whispered, and Hunter thought Colby was pointing down at his growing cock, but he didn’t lift his eyes to confirm. Because he was transfixed. By his best friend’s cock. “I haven’t gotten even this hard for a chick in like… months. Actually, probably more like a year. The last girl I went home with, I couldn’t even get it up, and she looked like Kaia Gerber.”

“It’s LA,” Hunter muttered, “she might have been Kaia Gerber.”

“Might have,” Colby agreed, and they both fell silent. The only sound in the room was their breathing and the chirp of crickets outside the open bathroom window. “Hunter. I don’t know what to do next.”

Hunter finally moved his eyes from Colby’s cock to his face. Colby’s eyes were soft, glassy, his perpetual smile was gone, and his full, soft bottom lip was tucked between his teeth, his jaw loose, and when he swallowed, it looked like a struggle. Hunter felt Colby’s vulnerability viscerally. With his whole heart. And being the people pleaser he was, and horny as all hell, he did the only thing he could think of—he dropped his towel.

His own dick was well past half-hard, and the head was almost pushing out of the waistband of his saturated boxer briefs.

“Oh, thank Christ,” Colby breathed the words out in a sigh. He took a step toward Hunter. Colby’s hand brushed Hunter’s hip and then his cock—so lightly Hunter almost missed it. “You’re confused too?”

“Not really,” Hunter said as their eyes met and he let his palm slip down, and down, until it was pressed against Colby’s smooth shaft. “I know I’m turned on.”

He wrapped his fingers around Colby's cock, and Colby’s breath hitched.

“Let go?” Hunter asked.

Colby shook his head abruptly. “No. Don’t.”

Colby reached up and cupped the back of Hunter’s neck, his fingers slipping through Hunter’s damp hair as he pulled their foreheads together. Hunter stroked Colby’s dick, slowly at first. Unsure but eager. Fuck, this was so hot.

“This is fucking wild.”

“Yeah,” Hunter agreed, his voice still so thick he didn’t recognize it. “But…like… okay?”

Hunter assumed he knew the answer because he still had his hand wrapped around Colby’s now very hard dick, and he wasn’t being pushed away or punched. In fact, Colby started rocking his hips, moving himself in Hunter’s grip. Hunter watched Colby’s eyelashes flutter with euphoria. “Yeah. It’s fucking good. Right?”

“Yeah,” Hunter confirmed in a whisper. His voice was ragged because Colby had started to fondle Hunter through his underwear. “I wanna keep going. Can I?”

“You can do anything, Hunter. I want you to do anything.” So, Hunter gave Colby’s cock, which was still in his hand, a long, firm stroke. Colby swore under his breath. “Can I touch you too?”