Blake Hart
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Walking the Line - Part 4
🕑 Added 2025-01-16 14:15:40 +0000 UTCEveryone in this story is 18+
The room was silent except for the faint hum of the ceiling fan. I woke up groggy, the kind of half-sleep where you’re not entirely sure what stirred you. That was, until I heard it—a familiar, rhythmic sound, one every guy past a certain age would recognize instantly.
I froze, my eyes wide open in the dark. The distinct clap of skin against skin was unmistakable, and I knew exactly where it was coming from. My first reaction was annoyance. Seriously? In the same room? But as I lay there, trying to ignore it, something else stirred—curiosity.
I shifted slightly, careful not to make a sound, and dared myself to look. The moonlight filtering through the blinds cast faint shadows across the room, just enough to make out the movement under Walker’s sheet. His hand moved steadily beneath the fabric, the sheet rising and falling in rhythm. His other hand rested on his chest, his fingers occasionally flexing, squeezing the firm muscle as he let out soft, barely audible breaths.
My heart pounded as I watched, a mix of discomfort and intrigue battling in my chest. My body betrayed me before my mind could catch up, my dick swelling against my boxers. I tried to ignore it, to roll over and go back to sleep, but my eyes kept drifting back to Walker. The way his body moved, the quiet intensity in his movements—it was impossible to look away.
Before I even realized what I was doing, my hand slipped under my waistband. I told myself it was just to relieve the tension, to take the edge off so I could get some sleep, but deep down, I knew better. I matched my movements to his, keeping as quiet as I could, my breath hitching every time his did. The anticipation built, the unspoken synchronization between us driving me closer and closer to the edge.
And then it happened. I bit down on my lip to stifle the sound as I came, hot and sticky, jets splattering across my stomach. Almost at the same moment, Walker let out a low, barely restrained groan, his body tensing before he relaxed back against the bed.
I lay there for a moment, my heart pounding in my ears, wondering what the hell I was supposed to do now. The mess on my belly felt like a damning reminder of what had just happened. Then, in the dim light, I saw Walker sit up slightly and reach for something. He grabbed a pack of tissues from the nightstand, cleaning himself up with a casual ease that only made me feel more awkward.
To my horror, he turned and tossed the pack onto my bed. “Here, bud,” he said, his voice low and amused. “So you don’t wake up all crusty tomorrow.”
I stared at him, stunned, as he flopped back onto his bed and turned over, his back to me. I grabbed a tissue, wiping myself down as quickly as I could, my face burning with a mix of embarrassment and something I didn’t want to name.
“Thanks,” I muttered, barely audible.
Walker just chuckled softly, his voice already thick with sleep.
I lay back down, staring at the ceiling, the tissues crumpled in my hand.
---
The morning sun streamed through the window, warming the room as I stirred awake. The faint sound of shuffling and Walker’s persistent voice broke through my grogginess.
“Hey, rise and shine, sleepyhead. Morning dip time,” he said, his voice carrying that familiar, infuriatingly chipper tone.
“What?” I groaned, pulling the sheet over my head.
“You heard me. The pool—right now.” There was a rustle of fabric, and then the mattress dipped slightly as he leaned on the edge of my bed. “Come on, E. Don’t make me drag you out of there.”
“You wouldn’t,” I muttered, my voice muffled by the pillow.
“Try me,” he shot back, the teasing edge in his tone unmistakable.
I peeked out from under the sheet to glare at him. He was already dressed in his swim trunks, the snug fit emphasizing his tapered waist and the faint V-line that disappeared beneath the waistband. His toned legs, strong and defined, caught the morning light, and his chest—broad and smooth with just a hint of golden tan—rose and fell as he chuckled. Barefoot and grinning like an idiot, he radiated the kind of effortless confidence that made it impossible not to notice him. “You’re way too energetic for this early in the morning.”
“And you’re way too grumpy. Come on. The water’s probably perfect.” He stood up and headed toward the patio door, pausing to glance over his shoulder. “Besides, you’re not really gonna let me have all the fun, are you?”
With a groan, I tossed the blanket aside and dragged myself out of bed. “Fine. But don’t expect me to be happy about it.”
By the time we stepped out onto the patio, the sun was already climbing higher, casting the pool in a warm glow. Walker, of course, wasted no time. He was at the edge of the pool, dipping a toe in before wading ankle-deep.
I hung back, arms crossed. Walker splashed some water at me, grinning. “Come on, Ev’s. Stop sulking and get in.”
“I’m not sulking,” I said, but my tone betrayed me. Still, the water did look inviting, and the heat of the morning was starting to get to me.
Walker dove in headfirst, breaking the surface with a smooth arc before popping up with a laugh. “Man, this feels amazing. You’re missing out.”
Reluctantly, I stepped closer, sitting at the edge and dipping my feet in. The cool water was a welcome relief, and despite myself, I started to relax slightly more. Walker swam over, splashing water playfully at my legs. “What are you waiting for? Jump in already.”
“Alright, alright,” I muttered, sliding in with as much dignity as I could muster. The water enveloped me, and before long, I found myself gradually loosening up.
We ended up horsing around in the pool, splashing and laughing like kids. At one point, Walker climbed out to dive back in, but as he stepped toward the edge, his foot slipped on the wet tile. My instincts kicked in, and I grabbed his arm to steady him before he could fall.
For a moment, we stood there, frozen. His green eyes met mine, the sun catching the faint scar above his eyebrow. My mind flashed back to the time he got it, right here in this very pool.
“What?” Walker asked, his voice softer now.
“You’re too clumsy. I Just remembered that time you got that scar,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended.
Walker’s lips curved into a lopsided smile. “Oh yeah. The great water polo incident. I was bleeding all over the pool, and Dad fainted like a sack of potatoes. Meanwhile, you kept him from drowning and managed to call Mom to haul me off to the ER for stitches. Luckily, I have you to watch out for me. Bro, we really watch out for each other.”
His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. He hesitated before adding, “I’ve noticed you’ve been distant ever since…”
“I’m cold,” I cut him off, the words coming out sharper than I intended. Without waiting for a response, I turned and headed inside. “I’m gonna shower.”
Walker didn’t stop me, but his expression lingered in my mind as I closed the door behind me, the sound of water splashing in the pool echoing faintly through the patio.
Comments
Devin
Walker used him. I understand why he feels as he does. Embaassment, hurt, and something much more excitement and passion for Walker.
Jules
Slow slow burn for sure
