The Best Man | Part 14: Knock at the Door (Patreon)

All characters depicted in this story are fictional and 18 years of age or older. Everything portrayed is safe, sane, and consensual.

I don’t even know what time I drifted off last night. All I know is I woke up the way you’re not supposed to wake up when the world is expecting you to play the perfect little brother. My cheek was pressed against the warm rise of Calvin’s chest, his heartbeat slow and steady under my ear. His arm was heavy across my back like he’d claimed me in his sleep. The sheets smelled like chlorine from the pool and sex.

I opened my eyes, half dazed, and the first thing I saw was the tight stretch of his stomach. Every inhale, every exhale, the muscles jumped faintly, abs contracting like the memory of his body moving inside me hadn’t stopped. For a second, I just stared, letting it replay in my head; the way he pinned me to the suite’s headboard, the way his voice went lower when he told me to take his cock. The kind of night I swore I’d never forget.

And then reality kicked me in the ribs. Today was the rehearsal dinner. Today was family and speeches and acting normal. And I was lying across Calvin like some hungover hookup, the morning light sneaking past the curtains, the whole estate buzzing awake outside.

I pulled back quickly, rolling onto my own pillow before I could drown in the sight of him.

That’s when I heard it...three knocks, sharp and way too familiar.

“Cal? Mason? Boys?” Nathan.

My stomach dropped.

“Wake up, lazy asses!” Another knock.

Shit.

I turned, smacking Calvin’s shoulder. “Dude. Cal. Wake up.”

His eyes fluttered open, slow and heavy, pupils dark from sleep. His mouth curved with a tired grin, and his voice came out gravelly, stretching my name like a tease.

“Ohhh, Maaaseyyy…”

It was half a moan, half a memory, and it did not help.

“Shut up,” I hissed, sitting up so fast I nearly tripped on the sheet tangled at my waist. My underwear was across the floor, so I scrambled for it, yanking it back on like it might erase everything we’d done.

Calvin propped himself up on one elbow, watching me with that lazy, sexy look that could burn me alive if I let it. His chest tightened as he shifted, pecs flexing with the motion. He reached one hand behind his head, lounging like some god in his throne.

He smirked. “Don’t tell me you’re already begging for round two.”

“Are you insane?” I whispered harshly, scanning the suite like there was evidence taped to the walls. I grabbed his underwear off the floor and chucked it at him. “Put that on. Quick.”

Another knock. Nathan’s voice again. “Boys? You’re still passed out? We’ve got things to do today, come on!”

“Calvin, seriously,” I warned. “Shut the fuck up. Nathan’s right there.”

But Calvin just caught the underwear in one hand, twirling it like he had all the time in the world. His smirk wavered only slightly when Nathan’s footsteps sounded closer.

“I’m opening the door,” I muttered, already moving toward it in nothing but my underwear.

“Wait—” Calvin’s voice lost its cocky edge, his expression shifting into something closer to nervous.

I ignored him. My hand was already on the knob when I glanced back and saw him panic just enough to duck under the blanket. He shoved his underwear beneath the covers with him, hiding, bare skin pressed to the sheets.

I cracked the door open.

Nathan stood there, hair messy from his own night but grin sharp as ever. “Good morning, gentlemen.” His eyes swept the room behind me, then landed on me; half-dressed, clearly not ready for anything. “What is this, a frat house? You guys still knocked out at eleven a.m.?”

I forced a laugh, rubbing the back of my neck. “Late night, I guess.”

He shook his head, stepping closer like he might just barge in. “You know today’s not optional, right? The rehearsal dinner isn’t just about eating free food. You’re both supposed to look presentable.”

Behind me, I heard Calvin shifting, the faint creak of the bed. My heart hammered. If Nathan pushed the door open any farther, he’d see everything....the mess of sheets, Calvin’s bare chest, the evidence of a night that wasn’t supposed to exist.

I leaned against the frame, blocking as much of the view as I could. “We’ll be down soon. Promise.”

Nathan narrowed his eyes, suspicious. Then he grinned. “Don’t make me come drag you out.”

“I’d pay to see that,” Calvin’s voice chimed in suddenly from the bed, low and teasing.

My blood froze.

Nathan tilted his head. “Is he even awake?”

I nodded too quickly. “Yeah, yeah, he’s fine. We’re fine. We’ll shower and be down in like twenty.”

Nathan let out another laugh, giving me that big-brother look that always managed to make me feel like the younger brother again. “Alright. Don’t keep us waiting, Mase.”

He tapped the doorframe once, then walked off down the hall.

The second his footsteps disappeared, I shut the door and turned back.Calvin was sitting up fully now, the sheet slipping down his stomach. “Relax,” he smirked. “He didn’t see a thing.”

Then, slow as ever, he let the sheet slide off his lap completely. His cock was hard, thick and proud, pointing straight up. His underwear was draped lazily across his chest like some kind of trophy from last night.

He grinned at me, eyes heavy with that smug heat. “Morning wood’s brutal, Masey. You sure you don’t wanna crawl in and take care of it?”

My eyes locked on it instantly; irresistible, taunting, smug like him. I found myself walking toward the bed without even thinking. Calvin leaned back with both hands behind his head, spreading his legs wider, tilting his hips just enough to make his cock stand taller.

“Knew you couldn’t resist this,” he murmured.

I reached out slowly, fingers hovering just above him. His grin widened.

“Yeah, Maseyy…”

But at the last second, I grabbed the underwear resting on his chest, balled it up, and tossed it onto his cock. “Wear that,” I grinned, turning back toward my luggage. “We’re already late for the wedding shit.”

Calvin burst out laughing. “Oh, Masey!” His hand slid down, stroking himself lazily through the fabric, groaning loud and theatrical like he was putting on a show just for me.

Then he stood. Swaggering. The sheet slipped fully off as he dangled the underwear in his hand, cock swinging side to side with each step like he knew damn well what he was doing.

“Damn” his voice dropped low, almost sing-song, “here I thought I was getting some morning head.”

I bent down to grab my clothes, deliberately slow, deliberately arching my ass just enough to give him a view. My skin prickled with awareness, his eyes burning into me.

“Aaaahhh… Maseeee… don’t do that,” Calvin groaned, a needy edge sneaking into his teasing.

I smirked without turning, clutching the clothes to my chest, and finally spun around to face him. He was still standing there, underwear dangling useless in one hand, his cock heavy and hard in the other. That cocky grin warred with the way his hips betrayed him, rolling forward like he couldn’t help it.

“Get dressed, Cal,” I said, voice light, almost sing-song back at him.

His laugh was loud and unbothered; the same laugh that always gave him away. It followed me as I slipped into the bathroom, door clicking shut behind me, his muffled voice still calling my name through the wood.------------The Best Man | Part 15: The Rehearsal Dinner