When Morning Comes

Chapter 5 - Ill Gain

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"Well, that's fucked up," Tito Jon was saying, handing me a mug of tea. White wisps curled up and away from the surface, catching in the light of his new apartment.

It was a small thing; a one-bedroom unit in a west-end neighbourhood, and one that hadn't even been renovated recently. It still smelled of faded smoke and ageing materials. Besides the smattering of unpacked boxes, we had been able to haul up his one couch, one coffee table, and a single armchair. Just a small percentage of the stuff that had been in his old house; remnants of his old life.

I sat cross-legged on the floor, staring at the surface of my tea. When I caught my reflection in it, I got a sour taste in my mouth. I looked sad. I hated being fucking sad. It was so pathetic.

"So he just...went into his room?" Tito Jon had eased himself into the armchair, the effort of moving weighing down his huge frame. "He didn't even say anything?" Disappointment crossed his face, deepening his creases.

"Yeah," I mumbled. "I...."

"I mean this sincerely;" Tito Jon said through a scoff; "it might be time to move on." His finality was so damning. I stared at a curl of steam as it drifted into a dusty shaft of January light, and dissipated.

"No, but you don't understand," I pleaded with my uncle. I struggled for a way to defend Josh's actions in that moment, because.... 'Because why?' one part of me asked itself. 'Because he's still a good guy,' said another; 'he was just scared.'

He was regarding me with such sincere gravity, it made me sick. "Nathan...it's okay. Sometimes people aren't what we think. Doesn't matter how long you've known them." He sighed and set his coffee down on the floor next to him. "People...people can always let each other down."

I sat silent for just a second. "People can be...truly bad," I agreed. Something crossed my uncle's face, and I couldn't for the life of me tell just what it was. Understanding, maybe. Sympathy.

"Nathan," he whispered; "I...never did tell you why me and your Tita Rachael broke up, did I?" I shook my head, curiosity alight about the untold story, and scooted closer towards him. "You got a few more minutes? It's a long one."

"Yeah...go for it."

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'That's fucked up.' Yeah. I knew all about that. I didn't realise just how sick and awful negative emotions could make a person until I got there. How twisted something like rage or envy were.

If you'd told me a month before it happened, that I would be making out--pants around the ankles and cock out and all--with the guy who had already shattered my heart and my trust in the past, in the sex pit that I'd turned my workplace into...well. I'd tell you you were fucking insane.

But wouldn't you know it; I was the moron who let him back in.

Nikolaj Marius Janetschek in the bare, familiar flesh, supine below me on a long-abandoned conference table. Frotting with me. His pale skin was flush with pink heat that crept up from his knees. He had always loved stroking our cocks together, pleasure creeping into the rest of my body as he slicked us up. He fisted our cocks together; the sound filled the dark air in the empty office.

"I missed this," he moaned. His short, skinny body was splayed out under me; I covered him entirely. His hip bones jutted from his skin, like sharpened stakes against my body. The pig in the pit trap. "Oh, fuck, Nathan, I missed this so bad."

"Mm." I didn't trust myself to speak. I couldn't even believe I'd invited him here.

Sure, it was stupid of me to answer the first text I'd gotten from Niki in almost a full year. I concede that. Especially given that he was still with the guy he'd broken up with me for, and I was still dealing with that while mourning the gaping absence of Josh in my daily life. Pathetic that I'd go ahead and give my ex the time of day because the guy my almost 30-year old ass had a crush on was avoiding me.

Even while Niki had sank to his knees to swallow my angrily pulsing cock, I couldn't help but think of Josh. Josh, Josh, Josh.... Boiling inside of me was the gnawing feeling that he had only used me to get off, but it was such an ugly, negative notion. There was no way I was going to let it get the better of me. I tried to remind myself that he...just wasn't like that.

This was the guy that had come to check in on me when I'd gotten into it with one of my former coworkers, and the boss had taken her side because he liked her better. That Josh had come to my apartment with cookies from the store and sat and watched a stupid movie with me till I'd forgotten the whole thing.

He was just going through it. I knew that. That's what I told myself when his texts in our conversations dried up, stale as all hell. Just another day at Nathan's Mental Gymnastics Centre. Truly pathetic.

"Fuck," came Niki's voice from below, stifling in the empty room, jarring me back to the jagged, ugly present. I looked down to find his pale face red and slick with spit. His mouth lolled open; a panting, shapeless hole. "You're so sexy, Nathan. Still so sexy."

"Mm." A horrendous emotion boiled up in me, that this was the same face he'd made for that man. That nameless fucker I still hated; who I still had a shard of resentment buried in my heart for. Red, white, and covered in another man's refuse. Hardly thinking about it, I slapped Niki lightly.

"Mmmmhh, oh fuck," he moaned, gulping my cock down farther, his eyes red and watery with unbelievable lust. "Do it again, Nathan, please."

"When the fuck did you turn into such a slut?" I asked through a grunt. All he did was whimper, hook his arms tighter around my legs, and suck deeper. My cock was buried in the tight, used tunnel of his throat. His skin glowed pink in the dimness of the evening light that poured in. I shoved my cock deeper into him, hardly caring for his ease of breathing.

But shit, he was a trooper. Niki swallowed my cock like he'd had nothing to drink for days. Like my flowing precum sustained him. I picked up the rhythm, grinding my hips against his face like I knew he'd like. Shit, I'd done it enough times over two years. Those years where I hadn't even been the only one.

A sigh tore out of me as all manner of negativity battled within: envy, rage, hurt, sadness, and loudest of all, regret. He'd cheated on me, and I'd let him come back around. I truly hated myself. The orgasm I was going to have was going to be terrible.

"Get up, bitch," I said, growling. He popped off my cock, his head lolling in lust-addled confusion. I hefted him up by his armpits with a force I wasn't quite registering.

"Nathan?" he muttered, clattering to the table. I'd had damn near enough of him sounding like he was enjoying himself. He gasped, a moan bubbling out of him when I pressed my cock head against his hole. He had come pre-lubed, the slut. He reached behind himself to spread his hole. It was pink, shaven, and slick with warm lube. That hole I had loved for so long.

I smeared the head of my weeping cock around his ring, itching to get inside. A deep rumble was coming from somewhere beside me...and I realised it was my own voice.

"Stop me now," I warned him, breathing through my nostrils. "Because I won't be able to stop once I start."

"Don't stop," he moaned, his voice dripping with desire. "I have time." A sick clenching feeling in me told me that this was exactly what he loved: cheating. While his man did...whatever the fuck it was he was doing. When I looked down, I saw his phone, just an arm's length away.

Rage flashed before my eyes. A fat glob of precum dripped onto his hole from my dick. Sliding my hand up his sweaty back, I pressed him into the table, and a puff of air escaped him.

"Should put on a condom," I growled in his ear; "who know what kinda fucking diseases your whore ass has, huh?" His breathing picked up, but he still raised his ass up to keep in contact with my cock. "I'm gonna ask you one more time, you fuckin' bitch. Are you gonna stop me? Or not?"

"No. Fuck me, Nathan, I need you."

Shit. I inhaled, and plunged into him.

A scream of mixed pain and pleasure ripped out of Niki as I sank my entire length into him in one go. His ass fought me for the first few strokes. Niki's walls were so familiar, except now there was a looseness to them I hadn't experienced before. After I fucked him for a few minutes, he started to become slack. He accepted my dick.

Niki bounced in time to me thrusting into him, expertly taking the fucking I gave him. I hated that he had become such an experienced bottom. Like he'd hit me up just to show me how much better he'd become since I left him. Just how well his new man fucked him. Smug little piece of shit.

I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, and pulled back, almost all the way out. He gasped; I paused for just one ponderous second, and thrust back in, harder than before. The force of it surprised him, and he fell to the table again. Honestly, it surprised me too. This time, I kept my hand on his neck, pushing his entire face down into the wood. I lifted up my leg to leverage myself deeper into his hole.

His moans turned into surprised grunts, almost yelling. Sick pleasure bubbled up from my nuts while I gave him the ploughing of a lifetime. Like he was a toy, like he was an object. That's all he had to be for me; that's all he was for anyone who fucked his sloppy little hole. His legs twitched and stretched out under me, trying to find a more comfortable position.

"Nathan," he squealed; "ease up."

"Fuck you."

And that was when true concern finally came up in his voice. "Nathan?" But I didn't want to hear him speak. I gave him three good thrusts, and his sentence came to a gurgling end. My nuts started to tighten against me; I was close to orgasm. The heightened emotion and effort pushed me closer to the edge.

"I said fuck you. You still hard, huh?"

"Y--yeah."

"Good. Make yourself cum." A confused sound out of him; he tried to crane his head to meet my eye. "If you don't cum before I do, I'm not going to help you. Get to it." A stillness came into the air, punctuated by his little gasps. I looked down; his entire ass was flush with a beautiful pink colour.

At first I only heard my grunts, rocky and unfeeling against the motions of this sickening sex. Then I heard it; the wet, slick sound of him stroking his cherry-red cock. I spread his cheeks just to lob some more spit onto my dick. And I continued to fuck him, inching closer to my orgasm.

"When did you get so--ah--mean?" he asked through his grunts, stroking his cock. It was music to my ears, his difficulty. I didn't know who I was anymore.

"Same time as you got so loose," I replied, gripping his neck. He shuddered, gasping; he picked up the pace of his stroking at the same time I did my fucking. "The fuck did you think this was gonna be, Niki? A kiss and a cuddle?"

"I don't--Nathan! Agh...."

I reared back and slammed into him. His moaning turned almost into crying; his arms flailed about. There came a shuffling from my right, and I saw his phone had slid closer to me.

I wasn't thinking. My cock was doing all of that for me when I grabbed his phone from beside him. He was too fucked up the ass to hear me unlock the damn thing, using the last passcode I'd remembered he'd use. Of course the thing was the same. I had to do almost no work whatsoever, because the message I needed was already sitting there, waiting to be read.

Brayden Landry

Brayden Landry (5:14): Gonna be home soon baby? I got dinner ready.

It was wrong, I thought, the whole thing was wrong. He had dinner ready for him. Something he liked. He was wondering where he was. A choking flurry of guilt rose up in me while I opened the camera.

"I'm gonna cum soon," I told him. A minor kindness, eclipsed by me hitting record in video mode. His white flesh, battered by streaks of pink, filled the view. I made sure to capture my cock in frame, showing how I pulled out and fucked back into him with audible, damnable wetness. "Fuck yeah."

"Me too," Niki let out, his face down onto the table, unaware. His battered hole clenched against my cock. "Oh, fuck, Nathan, keep fucking me, please. I'm gonna...gonna...." And he moaned, let his load fly. I felt it hit my shin; copious, hot. The camera recorded all of his moaning.

"Cum for me, Niki, baby," I slurred to the phone, taking a falsely honeyed tone.

Nathan, what the fuck are you doing?

A sick feeling filled me while I lowered the camera, focusing on my cock plunging into his hole, still. I pulled out, made sure it really saw all of me--the length of my fat, heavy cock--and fucked back into him a few times. All the while, Niki was whining, moaning, fucking mewling. When I couldn't take it anymore, I pulled out and laid my cock at the dimples of his back.

"Oh yeah," I moaned, feeling my cum rush out of my ragingly red cock. "I'm cumming, baby."

"Shit," he let out as my sticky load hit his skin. "Cum all over me, please, that's so good, Nathan...." I made sure to capture the ropes I shot out all over his blush-pink back, now slick with sweat and semen. My entire body jiggled, battered by a confusing mixture of guilt, vindication, and pure orgasmic pleasure.

Brayden Landry

Brayden Landry (5:18): Oh, should I invite Kim and Adam?

Niki Janetschek (5:47): he's busy. call back later.

(Sent a video.)

From below me, Niki's measured breathing; ragged, but overall satisfied, somehow. His post-sex come-down. I had heard it enough times to know. For just a few seconds, I held onto that near-silence.

And then his phone began vibrating in my hand.

"Aw shit," he mumbled, struggling to stand. "My phone...where is it?" He peeled away from the table, his eyes searching. Until he saw the thing in my hands, vibrating. Notification after notification.

"Nathan," he said in a shaky, breathy tone; "what...the fuck did you do?"

I handed him his phone, nothing in me to say. It was sick. Really, it was sick. I watched horror spill out all over his reddened face as he watched the notifications pour in. I zipped my jumpsuit back up, just staring at him. His eyes were so wide as he gawked at me; red ringing the blue.

"No, no, no," he pleaded to empty air. "No--Brayden, I...." He jerked his head to glare at me, his face already red from the effort I'd put him through. "What the fuck did you do, Nathan?!"

"Your boyfriend asked where you were," I mumbled, shrugging; my voice felt like it was coming from somewhere beside me. "So I showed him."

A sound of strangled panic came out of him as he held his phone uselessly in his hands, whipping his head between it, and me. "Fuck!" he yelled, gurgling. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! You fucking asshole! You're sick! Fuck you, Nathan! Fuck!"

"Fuck you back, Nik. Pick up your clothes." It felt so odd being so detached from such a scene. Like I watched Niki scramble for all his things through a television screen. He barely had his jeans back on, and his jacket was just dangling off of his shoulder.

I watched him stomp back out of the office. His strangled 'no, no, no...' following him out.

Calmly, I began wiping down the table. Cleaning up the cum from the floor. Even sprayed that tinny, horrible air freshener nobody liked, but it was part of the process. I tumbled out into the hallway, and I could still hear Niki from somewhere distant, given how empty the building was. Oddly enough, his sounds of agony came to an empty crash against my ears.

I felt nothing for Niki. Nothing about what he was feeling. Just a twisting, boiling twinge in the pit of my stomach that I'd done something so...fucking bad. Maybe I felt for Brayden, in a distant kind of way. But what was done was done.

"Hey, who are you?" I heard from down the hall, followed immediately by Niki's panicking footsteps away. "Hey! Hey!"

Ah, that's right. A different guard on duty today. The realisation came and landed on my head like a fly on shit. And yet...there wasn't anything in me that was capable of caring.

Wringing my hands on the rag, I stood in the empty, barely lit hallway with the flickering fluorescent lights. The twinging feeling solidified into a hard ball of guilt in my stomach. Guilt, mixed with a dark satisfaction of finally being vindicated--nearly a year too late to be warm.

Yes, people can be truly bad. I, the proof, stood in the hallway of a building in Alta Vista, feeling the stale air dry the sweat of an ill-gotten orgasm on my skin.