Broken Strings (Prodigy: 2)

Mine

Locke broke the kiss, yanking his head back for air, both of them breathing hard as they stared each other.

"So you can kiss," Zane sneered and gripped Locke's hair tighter, yanking back down, wrapping an arm around his back and pulling Locke against him.

"Who knew you were such a horny drunk," Locke replied, planting his hands down on the mattress to stay up.

"I'm not drunk, like I said, I'm fine."

"Yeah, course you are," Locke said, reaching his hand between them and sliding it down between Zane's legs. Zane's hips bucked against him as he flinched. "You wouldn't be hard if you were sober."

Zane pushed his hips up and suddenly rolled, yanking Locke off his feet and flattening him to the bed, kneeling over him.

"What can I say, I've been busy for a while and haven't had time to enjoy myself lately," he said, catching Locke's hand and pulling it away before moving his leg to push Locke's thighs apart, pressing his knee to Locke's crotch. "Seems I'm not the only one feeling it."

"That's hardly a surprise, you know what I'm like," Locke said.

"Yeah, easy."

"Fuck you."

"I bet you'd like to."

Locke's shifted his knee around then rammed it into Zane's stomach, making him choke and recoil, backing up and hugging his waist.

"Alright, Zaney-boy," Locke said, sitting up and shoving off his shirt, "Looks like drunk you is horny and sassy, let's fix that mouth of yours."

Zane looked up and Locke caught his jaw and pulled him up, straddling his lap and pressing his lips back down on his mouth.

Four years ago, Zane had told him that if the chance for something to happen didn't come along, you forced it so something happened.

He used that lesson and got a kiss for Zane. Just a kiss, nothing but a kiss, but it was the only thing he'd wanted at that time. It was all he would have dared asked for and hoped to get.

This time was different.

Zane wasn't sober, he wasn't in his right mind, he was entirely a victim and Locke was more than happy to take advantage of that and he was going to get as far as he could before he lost the chance forever. If he were a better person, he would have stopped. Zane would hate him in the morning. Zane wouldn't forgive him this time around.

Whatever Zane said, whatever he thought, he could only forgive so much. Whatever he believed, Locke could make Zane hate him. In the morning, Locke would regret making Zane hate him but when did he ever plan ahead?

Something vibrated on the inside of his thigh but Zane didn't notice. Without breaking their lips, Locke reached down and pulled Zane's phone from his jeans pocket and clicked it on. Madi's name popped up. She was asking if he'd got home alright. Saying congratulations again. She was going to treat him to a special night out tomorrow if he wasn't too hung over.

Locke slid his thumb across the screen, closing the text before knocking the phone on silent and throwing it out of the room. It sailed through the air and hit the sofa in the living room, bouncing off and hitting the floor.

Locke wrapped his arms around Zane's neck and closed his eyes, deepening the kiss and pulled Zane forwards, dropping back against the bed, using one hand to work Zane's shirt off, tossing it aside before he went to work on Zane's belt.

One of Zane's hands met him half way.

Locke's heart stuttered.

Zane was going to stop him.

Perhaps he was sobering up.

He would make Locke stop. He wouldn't cheat on his girlfriend when sober. He would ruin things if he stopped Locke's hand.

But he didn't.

Zane's hand passed his and went straight for Locke's buckle, fingers easily undoing it and pulling the trousers off as Locke lifted his hips.

"I haven't done it with a guy before, sorry if I suck," Zane muttered against his mouth.

Locke raised an eyebrow at the comment, then smiled slightly and closed his eyes. "Don't worry about it," he said softly, running a hand across Zane's cornfield braids then down his neck, fingers splaying across the powerful shoulders muscles then rolled under his touch.

He didn't care if Zane didn't know what he was doing. He didn't care if he sucked at it because Locke was his first guy or because he was drunk. He didn't care that they might not even get far because Zane was so drunk

The simple fact that it was Zane meant he didn't care.

He just wanted him.

In that moment, Zane belonged to him and him alone.

"You're mine," he whispered, his nails digging into Zane back as Zane took him in his hand, the feeling sending electricity shooting through his body in ways no other man or woman ever managed, "You're always going to be mine."