Chapter Text
I almost ate dirt getting out of the car because my backpack snagged on the door. “Christ,” I muttered, yanking it free. My shirt was already stuck to me, and I probably looked like a sweaty idiot, but whatever. Leona’s house looked the same as last year. I took the steps two at a time and rang the bell, drumming my fingers on my phone and checking the screen even though there was nothing to check.
The door swung open fast, and there was Leona Sørensen, grinning like she was about to win something. “Dude, you took forever,” she said, grabbing my arm and pulling me inside before I could answer. Her hands were cold from a drink or something, and I shivered.
“My dad drives like a grandma,” I said, dragging my bag over the threshold. “And he listens to talk radio. I swear, I wanted to throw myself out the window.”
She snorted. “That’s tragic. You want water or something? Mom made cookies, but they’re probably mostly gone. You missed the stampede.”
I dropped my bag by the stairs. “I’ll risk it. Where’s your army of cousins?”
“Gone. You’re safe.” She grinned, then glanced down the hall. “But you know my brother’s home, right? Wil.”
I nodded. I could hear music from behind a door, something with a lot of drums. It was loud enough to vibrate the floor a little. And there was this weird smell, like burnt leaves, except not. I tried not to stare at the door. “Yeah. I heard.”
Leona shrugged. “Only when he’s trying to piss off my mom. And he’s been chain-smoking in his room all day. The whole place smells like a goddamn ashtray.”
I snorted. “Classic Wil. Guess I’ll just hold my breath all summer.”
She grinned. “You’ll live. Or you’ll pass out, and I’ll get the guest room.”
She led the way upstairs, skipping steps and firing questions at me. “So, tell me, Zach. Did you actually break up with what’s-his-face? Why does your hair look like that? And, holy shit, those shoes are ugly.”
I snorted. “Wow, thanks, Leona. I missed you too.”
Leona grinned. “You did. Admit it.”
I smirked. “Maybe. Depends. You still sing in your sleep?”
She elbowed me. “Shut up. You know I’m a good singer.”
We got to her room, and I flopped on the bed, bouncing a little. “Dude, your mattress is still cursed.”
“It’s perfect. You’re just old now.”
I rolled over and grabbed a pillow. “So what’s the plan? Are we hiding from Wil all summer or what?”
She shrugged, sitting cross-legged by my feet. “He won’t even notice us. He only comes out for food.”
I could still hear Wil’s music down the hall, and the smell, too. “He always listens to that stuff?”
“Yeah. It’s worse in person. He thinks he’s edgy. I think he’s just bored.”
I laughed. “We’ve got better things to do.”
Leona grabbed a pack of gum from her nightstand and tossed it at me. “Like what? I hope you have ideas, Zach. I’m out.”
I caught it. “I brought cards. And my Switch. And I’m unbeatable at Mario Kart now.”
She scoffed. “You wish. You suck at Mario Kart.”
We were halfway down the stairs, arguing about whether Rainbow Road was really that hard, when the hallway filled with music, louder this time- Green Day, I think. The door at the end of the hall swung open, and Wil came out, barefoot, in ripped jeans and a white tank top. A cigarette hung off his lip; he didn’t even look up at first, just stared at his phone, thumb flicking fast.
He finally glanced up, just a flick of his green eyes, a very slow nod. Smoke curled around his face, and I caught a whiff that made me want to cough. I opened my mouth, about to say something random, but Wil was already past us.
Leona barely looked at him. “Don’t even bother,” she muttered, shooting me a look. “He’s always like that.”
I watched him disappear around the corner, the sound of his footsteps and the burnt smell trailing after. He didn’t slam his door, just let it click shut behind him, and I felt like I’d just vanished. Like I wasn’t even there. It shouldn’t have bothered me, but somehow it did. Something about the way Wil moved,like nothing could touch him, like he didn’t give a shit about anything, made it hard to look away.
I lingered outside Leona’s room longer than I meant to, pretending to mess with my phone. She was chattering about what snacks we should grab later, but my mind kept drifting away.
Leona noticed I was quiet and nudged me. “You good, Zach? You look a little lost in your thoughts.”
“Nah, just tired,” I lied, forcing a shrug. “Long drive, you know?” She didn’t press, just tossed a pillow at my head and told me not to pass out before movie night. I laughed and dodged it, pulling myself up from the bed.
A sudden pressure in my bladder gave me the perfect excuse to escape. “Back in a sec,” I called, already halfway into the hall.
The hallway still leaked out the music I’d heard earlier. I didn’t mean to stare; honestly, I was just walking past on my way to the bathroom, but his door was cracked, and the light caught my eye.
I glanced over, just for a second. That was all it took.
Wil was sprawled on his bed, one knee up, earbuds in, something burning in the ashtray. His shirt was rumpled, and his hand was shoved under his waistband, moving slowly and methodically. His hand was shoved deep under his waistband, knuckles flexing, stroking himself slowly, hips rolling into his palm like he had all the time in the world. His eyes were slitted, lashes dark against his cheeks, mouth slack and wet, a little pink tongue peeking out as he bit his lower lip. He looked like he was somewhere far away, lost in the pleasure, completely unguarded, not caring if the door was open, not caring if anyone saw.
I knew I should look away, but I really couldn’t. My heart hammered. My face went hot. I didn’t breathe. I just stood there, not blinking, watching Wil jerk off. It was… hot. But hot wasn’t a word I’d ever really used to describe him- not Wil, not Leona’s older brother, not the guy who barely noticed I existed.
Except now, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. The way I felt pulled toward him, like I wanted to know everything he was thinking. The way his hand moved, slow and sure, the muscles in his arm tensing, the way his hips flexed up, the little sounds spilling from his mouth, I wanted to drop to my knees right there and beg to taste him.
Panic finally kicked in. I tore my eyes away and stumbled to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. My hands were shaking as I leaned over the sink. I tried to steady my breathing, but it was useless; I was hard and confused and buzzing out of my skin. All I could see was Wil, sprawled out, not caring about anything. I managed to pee, and then I left the room, full of thoughts.
I tried to act normal when I came back, Leona humming some pop song. I sat on her bed, pretending to scroll my phone. She didn’t notice anything, just started talking about what movie we should watch or if we should sneak ice cream from the kitchen.
Meanwhile, I could barely string two words together. My brain was still short-circuiting, replaying what I’d just seen. I kept seeing Wil’s face, the way he looked so completely at ease, not caring if anyone saw him, not even thinking about it. I felt guilty as hell, but also weirdly excited, like I was in on some secret I wasn’t supposed to know. Every time Leona looked at me, I was sure she’d see right through me. But she just kept talking, totally oblivious.
By the time I made it to the guest room, my whole body was on fire. I threw myself onto the bed, barely bothering to shut the door all the way.
I lay back, staring at the ceiling, dick already throbbing, so hard it hurt. I shoved my jeans down, boxers too, not even caring that my hands were shaking. I spat in my palm, wrapped my fingers around my cock, and let out a rough, desperate moan I’d never let anyone hear.
I closed my eyes and remembered. Wil’s hand, the way his thumb moved, slow and teasing, dipping under his waistband and stroking himself like he had all the time in the world. I matched his rhythm, easing off when I was close. I wanted it to hurt. I wanted to feel it everywhere.
I imagined Wil looking up and catching me watching, smirking instead of getting pissed off, his lips parted, tongue wetting them. I pictured him crooking his finger, beckoning me into his room, telling me to shut the door and get over there. I could almost hear his voice, low and rough: “You want to watch, Zachary? Or do you want to help?”
Fuck, I wanted to help. I wanted to drop to my knees and taste his seven inches, to press my mouth against the scars on his arms, to feel him shudder when I licked the sweat from his dick. I wanted him to shove his hand in my hair, to hold me down, to fuck my mouth until my jaw ached.
My hips jerked up into my fist, precum and the remnants of my saliva slicking my palm. I thought about Wil’s cock, the way it would feel heavy on my tongue, the taste of his skin, the way he’d groan when he came. I’d bet it’d be loud; he wouldn't care who heard. I imagined him spilling over my lips, telling me I was his good boy, better than anyone else.
I stroked faster, panting, sweat prickling down my back. I moaned his name- Wil, Wil, Wil- over and over, biting my lip to keep from shouting. My whole body tightened, pleasure coiling hot and sharp in my gut, and then I was cumming, all over my stomach. I couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t stop whispering his name, couldn’t stop wanting him.
When it was over, I lay there, heart pounding, cum cooling on my skin, still dizzy with the thought of him. I wiped myself off with the edge of the sheet, not caring about the mess right now, and curled up, covers pulled tight around me. I’d never been so wrecked, so fucking desperate for someone in my life.
I was completely in love with Wil Sørensen.