He Moved Into Their Mansion, He Chose All Three Brothers novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: One Shower, Four Boys

Troy kisses Noah against the shower tile while William and Henry watch and do not leave. Three towels wait on his bed.

"Troy," William said from the doorway. "We talked about the lock."

"I know," Troy said. He didn't turn around. "I'm fixing the tap."

The tap was already running hot.

Noah put his toothbrush down on the sink very slowly.

Troy's hand was still on his, and now Troy's thumb moved across his knuckles.

Noah knew he should say something ordinary.

"The towels," he said instead. "Are those for the shower?"

"They're for whoever needs one," Henry said.

His voice was lower than it had been in the bedroom.

He took off his glasses and set them on the shelf by the door.

Noah told himself they had come to brush their teeth.

They were brothers in a shared house, and this was their bathroom.

Troy leaned down until his mouth was beside Noah's ear.

"You can tell me to get out," Troy said.

"I don't want you to get out."

"Good."

Noah turned around and kissed him.

Troy made a sound in his throat and caught Noah by the hips, and the sink edge pressed into the small of Noah's back.

His mouth tasted of chlorine and mint.

He kissed hard and a little clumsy, and he did not let up.

Noah got both hands into Troy's damp hair and pulled.

Behind them the door clicked shut, but neither William nor Henry had left.

Noah could see them in the mirror.

William leaned against the door with his arms crossed, watching with a stillness that made Noah's skin burn.

Henry stood next to him, and his hand was flat against his own stomach.

"Shower," Troy said against Noah's mouth. "Come on."

They stumbled into the glass stall, and Troy hit the dial and the water came down hot on both of them.

Noah's T-shirt was soaked in a second.

Troy dragged it over his head and threw it over the glass.

Then he pushed Noah back against the tile and kissed his neck, his collarbone, the place under his ear that made Noah's knees go loose.

"Fuck," Noah said. "Troy."

"Say it again."

"Troy."

Troy's hand went down between them.

He opened Noah's jeans with one rough tug and pushed inside his boxers, and wrapped his fist around Noah's cock.

Noah was already hard.

He had been hard since the tap.

Troy stroked him once, slow and tight from base to tip, and Noah's head hit the tile.

"Look at you," Troy said, breathless. "You're so fucking hard."

"Don't stop."

"I'm not going to."

He worked Noah's jeans down to his thighs and took them both in his hand, his cock hot and thick against Noah's, and stroked them together.

The head of Noah's cock slid wet against Troy's.

Noah gripped Troy's shoulders and held on.

He was dripping already, slick over Troy's knuckles, and the water rinsed it away and he leaked more.

Troy's free hand slid around and gripped Noah's ass, pulling him in until their hips slammed together.

"You like that?" Troy said.

"Yes. Fuck, yes. Harder."

"Say what you want."

"Your cock against mine," Noah said. "Your hand on my ass. Don't let go."

Troy's grin went wild.

He squeezed hard, and a finger dragged down the crease toward Noah's hole and rubbed over it, wet with the water, and Noah's whole body jerked.

"Faster," Noah said again.

Troy gave it to him.

The sound of it filled the stall, wet skin and water and Noah's own ragged breathing.

Through the steam and the glass he could see two shapes standing at the door.

Neither of them looked away.

William's jaw was tight.

Henry's head was tipped back against the wood and his eyes were closed, and then they opened and found Noah's through the fog.

That was what did it.

Noah shuddered and bit down on Troy's shoulder and came, hot and hard over Troy's fist and his own stomach.

Troy swore and followed him, thrusting into his own hand, groaning into Noah's hair.

They stood there under the water with their foreheads together, shaking.

Troy laughed once, quiet and amazed.

"I've wanted to do that since the first day of Stats," he said.

Noah opened his mouth to answer.

The door opened and shut.

When he looked through the glass, the bathroom was empty.

He washed, turned off the water and wrapped himself in the towel Troy handed him.

His hands were not steady.

"Are they mad?" Noah asked.

"William doesn't get mad. He gets quiet." Troy was grinning. "That was quiet."

Troy went out first, in his towel, whistling.

Noah waited a full minute, then followed.

The long room was dark except for the lamp on William's desk.

William sat there with his back to the room and his laptop open.

Henry lay on his bed with his book held up in front of his face.

He had not turned a page.

Noah crossed the room to the window bed, and stopped.

Three towels were folded on his blanket, side by side.

One was navy, one was grey and one was white.

On each, somebody had pinned a slip of paper.

The first said W.

The second said H.

The third said T.

Noah stood there with his own wet hair dripping onto the floor, and across the room Henry's book finally lowered an inch.

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