Puzzle by Nora Phoenix

17

“What kind of picture should I use on that app?” Ryder sat curled up on Dorian’s couch, frowning as he studied the profile he’d been filling out. No more talking about hooking up. He was gonna do it. He needed sex, and he was done waiting.

It had been another crazy busy time at work, with Branson catching up after missing the day before for his father’s surgery, and then the news of the website Coulson had been tipped about had come in, and they’d spent hours going through every line of that, looking for clues. Ryder had been happy having concrete information to search for, but he was just getting started, so no results yet. Hence the need for some distraction…and relaxation.

Dorian shot a quick glance at Amelia, who was building impressive constructions with her Duplo blocks. From the looks of it, she’d inherited her father’s technical skills. “Is it to date or to…” He dropped his voice. “Hook up?”

Right. Amelia might only be two, but she was a smart cookie. “The latter.”

“Then show your bestselling feature.”

Ryder quirked an eyebrow. “Not sure how you want me to take a picture of my sparkling personality.”

Dorian snorted. “Your ass, dimwit.”

“My ass?”

“Yeah. It’s rather spectacular in case you hadn’t noticed, and since you’re a full-on bottom boy, you might as well advertise it.”

“Bottom!” Amelia repeated happily, beaming at her dad as if she was proud she’d managed to say it.

Dorian groaned. “We’re totally ruining my daughter’s innocence.” Then he smiled at the little girl. “Yes, sweetheart, bottom. Good job saying such a difficult word.”

“Daddy!” Amelia giggled, then went back to her colorful bricks.

“If you didn’t want her to know that term, why did you repeat it?” Ryder asked.

“Tip from my mom. She said that kids pick up on forbidden words and will repeat those at the most unfortunate moments, but if you act as if the word is normal, they’re much more likely to forget it.”

“I wonder how she found that out.”

Dorian grinned. “Apparently, my sister once yelled ‘goddammit’ at the top of her lungs at some work event my parents attended. My father had dropped something heavy on his foot a few days earlier and had let that heartfelt exclamation out, and when she’d asked what that meant, he’d tried to distract her. Clearly, that approach hadn’t worked.”

“Oops.”

“Yeah, oops indeed. So I’m trying a different strategy…”

“But back to my question. You think I should take a picture of my ass…ets?”

“Yes. From the right angle, no top will be able to refuse that blatant invitation.”

Funny, Ryder had never thought of himself as sexy, but the way Dorian made it sound, he’d been wrong. “I never knew you were so invested in my…assets.”

Dorian shrugged. “You’re like a brother to me, but I’m not blind. Besides, I’m as much a needy bottom as you are, so it’s not like I don’t know what you should work with.”

“Bottom!” Amelia exclaimed again, seeking her dad’s approval.

Ryder laughed. “Good luck explaining that at day care.”

“At least it’s a relatively innocent expression. Imagine if she’d drop the word c-o-c-k there.”

Ah, spelling, the old adult strategy of keeping things from their kids, at least until they could read and write well enough to spell quickly. “True. Anyway, what’s the best angle for that pic?”

“I keep forgetting you haven’t done this in years.”

“Neither have you. Can I just point that out?”

“Two years in my case. Almost six for you. If we’re keeping score.”

“Semantics.”

“Look, she’s gonna go down for her nap in a few minutes, so if you can wait until she’s asleep, I’ll help you.”

True to his word, Dorian put Amelia in bed ten minutes later, and the kid was out like a light. Dorian rubbed his hands as he walked back into the living room. “Okay, horny boy. Strip and show me those assets.”

“What, you’re not even gonna take me out on a date first? Why, sir, you are moving awfully fast…” Ryder pretended to fan himself, batting his eyelashes, and Dorian chuckled.

“You’re having way too much fun with this.”

They kept laughing and joking as they found a spot in Dorian’s bedroom with a suitable background. Ryder stripped without thinking about it twice. Weirdness didn’t exist between him and Dorian. They’d been through too much together for that.

“Push your ass back,” Dorian instructed. “Now put one hand on the wall and look over your shoulder.”

“Are you including my face?”

“No, but that twist in your spine makes your ass pop.”

Okay, then. Ryder dutifully followed instructions while Dorian took one pic after another on his phone. “You should start a career in porn,” Ryder joked when Dorian was satisfied. “You’re good at this.”

He got dressed again, then checked out the pics Dorian had taken. Damn, he hadn’t been kidding. Framed like that, Ryder’s ass did look spectacular.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Don’t mention it. What are friends for if not for taking dick pics or, in this case, ass pics?”

Someone should put that on one of those inspirational quote things on Instagram: ”True friendship is taking a picture of your best friend’s ass so he can score some quality dick.”

They settled back on the couch, where Ryder added the three best pics to his profile, took a deep breath, and made it live. There, done. With any luck, he’d get laid tonight. And with even more luck, he’d get fucked into the mattress.

“What did you put into your profile?” Dorian asked.

“Hungry bottom looking for an aggressive top.”

Dorian’s eyes widened. “Wow, not exactly subtle, is it?”

“It’s a hookup app. Subtlety is not the point.”

“Mmm, true. I keep forgetting that when it comes to sex, you’re not shy and introverted.”

Dorian wasn’t the only one who made that mistake, and he’d known Ryder for many years. People often assumed that because he was introverted and a geek, he’d be like that in bed as well…but he wasn’t. Ever since he’d discovered sex—and he’d been a late bloomer at nineteen—he’d decided to go after what he wanted. Why settle for bad sex when he could get better? Except, it seemed, with Paul. Why had he accepted mediocre sex with him? It still baffled him.

His phone dinged. “Oh, I recognize that sound. Someone took the bait.” Dorian grinned.

Before Ryder could open the app, his phone dinged again and then once more. Look at that; he still had it. Good to know. He checked the responses. The first one was an immediate no. “Stern Daddy Looking for a Boy to Spoil” the profile’s headline read. Nope. No offense, but Ryder wasn’t into Daddy kink. Or much older guys. To each his own, but not his thing.

The second one was a maybe. Thirty-seven years old, and if that truly was the guy’s body, he was in excellent shape.

“Let me see.” Dorian curled his fingers in a “gimme” gesture, and Ryder scooted over closer to him so they could look together. “Mmm, he’s hot.”

“If that is really his pic, then yes.”

Dorian winced. “Good point. What about that one?”

Ryder opened the profile he pointed at. Dorian whistled. “Damn, boy, that is one fiiiiine piece of equipment.”

He wasn’t wrong. The pic showed off one hell of a cock, close up in every veiny detail, with a thick drop of precum dripping from the slit. How long was that thing? At least eight inches if Ryder had to take a guess. “That’s a work of art.” He swiped to the next picture, which showed a little more of the guy’s body with tight abs and a nice cum gutter.

A guy like that had to have his pick of bottoms to fuck, and yet he’d responded to Ryder. Maybe Dorian had been right. Maybe it was time to delete everything Paul had told him from his system and start over. A hard fuck would help with that, and especially a hard fuck by a dick that size. Sign. Him. Up.

I’m in, he messaged back. When and where?

“What did you put in as location anyway?” Dorian asked. “Around here?”

“Fuck, no. Way too much chance of running into someone I know from school or some shit. Nope, I did DC and suburbs. Plenty of horny fish in the sea there.”

A ding alerted him to an incoming message. Are you available tonight?

Yes.

Madrassa Motel, room 61. 8 p.m.?

I’ll be there.

See? He liked this. No complicated rituals, no endless required socializing, no need for negotiations. Dick and ass, top and bottom, easy as that. He turned off his phone.

“I’m out of here. I have a booty call I gotta answer.”

Dorian hugged him. “Have fun. Be safe.”

Ryder nodded. “I’ll turn on my location for you.”

“Good.”

He spent the next two hours preparing, showering and cleaning himself, then doing some grooming and manscaping. He hadn’t bothered since he’d broken up with Paul, but he needed to feel pretty and wanted tonight, and so he waxed himself until his balls and ass were as smooth as velvet. Perfect.

Choosing what to wear had always been a challenge, since he didn’t give two fucks about clothes and brands, but Paul had badgered him enough over the years to look presentable that Ryder owned a few outfits that looked great on him. He picked a pair of tight jeans and a black button-down shirt made of some slightly shiny material. He refused to wear uncomfortable shoes, so his Converse would have to do, geeky or not. Dress shoes gave him blisters.

He gave himself a last check in the mirror, nodding at what he saw. That was as sexy as he would ever be, and Paul might be an asshole, but he hadn’t been lying when he said those jeans made Ryder’s ass pop. They totally did.

He snuck out before his mom could ask him what he was up to—another major drawback of moving back in with his parents—then drove to DC. The Madrassa motel was on the northwest side of downtown, which made it a quick drive for him, and the parking lot had plenty of space. Easy-peasy.

He waited in his car until a few minutes before eight, then walked in and took the elevator up to the sixth floor. For a motel that rented rooms by the hour, it looked pretty decent and clean. He took a deep breath, then knocked on the door of room 61. He’d prepared a casual greeting for when this guy would open the door, but when it happened, his mouth dropped open.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked Branson, who stood there looking equally mystified, wearing only a pair of tight underwear, showing off every perfect muscle on his body.

Wait. Branson had been expecting company, or he wouldn’t have opened the door. And dressed like that, he’d been expecting a hookup.

Oh, no. It couldn’t be…

Ryder’s eyes dropped to Branson’s crotch, where a sizable dick lay half-hard under the thin cotton of his underwear.

Shit, shit, shit. Out of all the dicks in the world, he’d picked Branson’s.