Hello. Welcome back to another chaptered story. This takes place in the same continuity of my previous story, 'Racing Into the Night', and occurs within the same family. You don't need to have read that story before starting this one. I am pleased to say that this story does have a happy ending...but we have to work hard to get there, first.
When Morning Comes
Chapter 1 - Oblivion
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Watching the diner's door closely, I watched for the huge, looming form of my Tito Jonathan. When he crossed into frame, I pounced on him, catching him unawares. My uncle let out a deep grunt, putting a hand on my shoulder to steady himself while I just tossed him a broad grin.
"Nate!" he said with his softly annoyed smile. "Careful, dude. I've been on my feet all day. I'm about ready to keel over."
The scene in the diner in the mid-winter was busy, with people meandering in and staying in to find shelter from the falling January snow. I had been waiting for my uncle to get off work so he could pick me up on the way home. Today, I was meant to help him set up his furniture in his new apartment.
"Goddamn, old dude," I said with a puff of air as we sat down. "You sure you're going to be able to lift a single box today?" He shot me a dangerous look over his glasses while he unfolded a menu.
"You wanna run your mouth like that while free lunch is still on the table?" I rolled my eyes at him, waving him off. "I thought so. Brat." I stuck my tongue out at him. That was my relationship with my Tito Jon.
We had grown close in the six years since I'd come out--and the two years since he had, too. Mom and dad had silently since re-adopted him as an unofficial older brother to me. Perhaps it was part of the outpouring of pity they held for him since his explosive divorce, which coincided with his coming out.
I didn't really know the details of that, though, and I never asked, either; he didn't want to tell me anything, so I didn't pry. I was just there to move some boxes. And to get some free lunch. We ordered, and when it came, I tucked in right away, to the sounds of my uncle's conversation. We went up and around all manner of topics, and eventually, we landed on the topic of--drumroll please--men.
"Your boyfriend you used to have," he muttered, his eyes full of curiosity. "Nick? What'd he do again?"
"Oh, Niki?" I wanted to roll my eyes. "Guy who cheated on me while we were in the Philippines for Lolo Max's funeral? Nothing major." Tito Jon winced.
"Fuuuuuck. That bad?" He went back to digging at his fries. "Sorry to open that wound again...."
I shrugged. "It's nothing, honestly. Dude, like, a month after he confessed to it.... Like, yeah, I was sad, but I was back on the apps. 'Cause what was I gonna do? Just be sad about it? Fuck no, man."
Tito Jon smiled helplessly. "I don't know how you millennials do that shit so easily," he murmured. "Maybe I'm just too old for all of that...that app stuff. I mean...I'm just so tired and old."
"Can't speak for all of my generation, but I know how I do it: hella fuckin' easy!"
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Niki Janetschek
Niki Janetschek (8:34): hey. sorry to be bugging you rn.
(8:36) are you home? just wanna talk.
(8:51) can you look at your phone nathan please?
What an annoying message to have to address while I was already getting head, from someone who definitely wasn't my now-ex-boyfriend. He didn't have the decency to let me just forget about him and try to move on in the new best way I knew how: casual sex with strangers.
The first new mouth around my cock since my breakup was attached to some guy who was bunched up on my car floor. I stretched out in the backseat. Washed in a deep shadow of a brand new construction project in the suburbs, I could barely see, but I could feel him and hear him. He gagged thirstily on my cock, the familiar sound filling the air in my car. My windows fogged up while I ran my hand through his curly hair.
"So fucking good," I moaned like I wasn't just a little bit pissed off about the message. I concentrated on how good he was making my dick feel. And he was making it feel real good.
"You like it?" he asked, a coy giggle coming into his voice. "I like your cock. Really like your cock." For good measure, he stroked me up, then down, his cute chubby fingers not quite closing around my fat, seven-inch shaft. I could feel my precum squeezing out of me, and he lapped it up.
I moaned as I felt him roll my nuts around in one wide, warm palm. I felt my belly shake with the flush of pleasure that spread from my cock. My thighs were becoming sweaty while he worked on me. Reaching up, I kneaded my chest, my firm tits while he sucked. I was on cloud fucking nine.
Not that I hadn't been in at least some kind of delirium every day the whole week. In between being high as often as I could be, and now reinstalling a hookup app and using it, I didn't have time to feel like a regular person. One with feelings that weren't pure pleasure, or deep, forgetful oblivion. Shit felt incredible--it had to. My hedonistic era was going real well so far. Or it should've been.
'Message from Niki Janetschek.' Man, shut the fuck up.
"Who keeps messaging you?" he mumbled when he pulled off my cock for a moment. Instead of sucking, he stroked, and the wet slapping sound was music to my ears.
"Someone else from Growlr," I lied with an irritated sigh. "Slept with him once."