Locked Out and Seduced by My Neighbor

Trent had been on his feet since morning, and the city had wrung him out. Twenty-four, slim through the shoulders and the waist, he came up the stairs of his building still wearing the interview clothes that had started neat and ended tired: a pale button-down gone soft at the collar, dark slacks creased at the knees, dress shoes that pinched. The job had been for a junior analyst desk downtown. He had smiled until his face hurt, shaken hands, and walked out with nothing but a maybe and the late heat clinging to his skin. All he wanted was a shower and the quiet of his own couch.

The key was not in his pocket.

He checked the other pocket, the jacket he had draped over his arm, the little zip pouch in his bag. Nothing. He stood in the hallway outside his door and tried the handle anyway, because hope is stubborn even when it is stupid. The lock held. His roommate Owen had the spare, and Owen would not be back until evening. Trent rested his forehead against the wood and let out a breath that tasted like frustration.

Across the hall, a door opened.

Theo filled the frame the way a man does when he has stopped apologizing for taking up space. Fifty-two, thick through the chest and the arms, muscle gone a little soft at the middle and none the worse for it. Gray threaded the dark hair at his temples. He wore a plain black T-shirt stretched honest across his shoulders and gray sweatpants that did not bother to hide the heavy line of him. Trent had noticed that line before, in passing, the way a straight man notices a thing and then tells himself he has not. Neighbors talk. Theo was known in the building for more than his easy smile. People lowered their voices when they mentioned what he carried. Trent had always laughed it off and changed the subject.

“Locked out,” Theo said. It was not quite a question. His eyes moved over Trent with a slow, unhidden appreciation, from the loosened collar to the narrow waist to the long legs. The look lingered. It did not feel rude. It felt like being tasted from across a room.

“Yeah.” Trent straightened, suddenly aware of how his shirt clung between his shoulder blades. “Owen’s got the other key. He won’t be home for hours. I was going to sit on the stairs like an idiot.”

“Don’t.” Theo tipped his head toward the open apartment behind him. Warm light, the smell of coffee and clean soap. “Come wait with me. Shower if you want. You’ve had a day. I can see it on you.”

Trent hesitated only a second. His skin felt filmed with the subway and the nerves, and the offer was kind. “You sure? I don’t want to impose.”

“You won’t.” Theo’s mouth curved. “Come in, Trent.”

The apartment was bigger than Trent expected, or maybe it only felt that way because Theo moved through it without bumping anything. A wide couch, a low table, a hallway that led back toward a bedroom and a bath. Theo poured him water without asking and set it in his hand. Their fingers touched. Theo’s were warm and broad.

“Interview?” Theo asked.

“Analyst spot. I think I talked too fast.” Trent drank. The water was cold and good. He was aware, the whole time, of being looked at. Not stared down. Studied. Theo’s gaze kept returning to the open throat of his shirt, the slim line of his wrist, the way his slacks sat on his hips. It put a strange heat under Trent’s skin that had nothing to do with the walk home. He told himself it was only the relief of being indoors. He did not quite believe it.

“You can use the shower,” Theo said, voice low and easy. “Towels are on the rack. Take your time. I’ll be out here.”

Trent thanked him and went down the hall because he needed to be out from under that look before he started thinking about it too hard. The bathroom was clean, tiled in pale stone, the shower large enough for a man Theo’s size. He shut the door, stripped, and stepped under the water with a sigh that came from somewhere deep. Hot spray beat the day off his shoulders. He soaped his chest, his flat stomach, the lean muscle of his thighs. Steam rose. For a few minutes he was only a tired body getting clean, eyes closed, head tipped back.

The door opened.

Trent’s eyes flew open. Theo stood in the doorway, one hand still on the knob, as if he had meant to reach for something and had forgotten what. His gaze did not flick away. It drank. Water ran down Trent’s slim frame, over the small tight nipples, the narrow waist, the soft cock nestled in dark hair, the long legs. Steam curled between them. Theo did not leave.

“Sorry,” Theo said, and he did not sound sorry. His voice had dropped into something low and seductive, almost lazy. “Towel cabinet’s in here. I forgot you were—Christ. Look at you.”

Trent should have yanked the curtain. He didn’t. His hands hovered, useless, and heat that was not the water climbed his throat. “Theo—”

“You’re beautiful,” Theo said, plain as a fact. He stepped farther in. The door clicked shut behind him. “Slim little body. All that smooth skin. I have been trying not to stare at you in the hall for months, and here you are, wet and perfect, and I am done pretending I don’t want to.”

Trent’s breath caught. He was straight. He had always been straight. Women, dates, the ordinary hunger he understood. None of that explained the way his cock stirred under Theo’s eyes, thickening in the spray while the older man watched it happen. Theo’s sweatpants had gone tight at the front. The shape there was obscene, heavy, pushing the fabric out in a thick ridge that made Trent’s mouth go dry. Impressive was too small a word. It looked like it would fill a hand and then some, and it was getting harder while Theo looked at him.

“You should go,” Trent said, and his voice came out thin.

“I will if you want me to.” Theo’s eyes stayed on him, dark and sure. “Say it and I walk out. But you’re flushing all the way down your chest, and your cock is waking up for me. That’s not nothing, sweetheart.”

The word landed somewhere low in Trent’s belly. Compliments kept coming, quiet and filthy in their honesty. Theo told him his waist was made to be held. Told him his mouth looked soft. Told him a man could spend a long time on a body like that and still want more. Trent stood in the water and listened, pulse hammering, curiosity rising faster than shame. The confidence did it. Theo was not begging. He was offering, certain, thick and aroused and patient in the steam, and the attention felt like a hand already on Trent’s skin.

Trent swallowed. Water ran into his mouth and he didn’t care. “It’s turning me on,” he heard himself say. The admission shocked him and steadied him at the same time. “Your voice. The way you’re looking at me. I don’t—I haven’t done this. But I want you in here. Join me.”

Theo’s smile was slow and warm and hungry. “Ask me again.”

“Join me,” Trent said, clearer. “I want you to.”

Theo pulled the T-shirt over his head. His chest was broad, hair dusted dark across the muscle, stomach thick and solid. The sweatpants came down, and then there was nothing between Trent and the truth of him. Theo’s cock was massive, heavy even half-hard, thick as Trent’s wrist and still swelling, the head broad and flushed, veins standing along the shaft. His balls hung full beneath it. He stepped into the shower, and the space seemed to shrink around all that body. Water struck his shoulders and ran down. He smelled like clean skin and heat.

He pulled Trent in.

The kiss was deep from the first second, Theo’s mouth sure, his tongue sliding against Trent’s, one big hand spread across the small of Trent’s back. Trent made a sound he had never made for anyone and kissed back, arms coming up around Theo’s neck because he needed the anchor. Theo’s cock pressed hot and huge against his stomach, smearing water and the first slick of precum. Trent’s own cock was fully hard now, slim and eager, trapped between them. He was not thinking about the interview. He was thinking about the weight in Theo’s hand when it dropped to cup his ass, about how good it felt to be held by someone so much bigger.

“On your knees,” Theo murmured against his mouth. “If you want it. I want that pretty mouth on me.”

Trent went down willingly. The tile was warm under his knees. Water poured over his back. Theo’s cock stood in front of his face, enormous up close, the head glossy, a bead of precum welling at the slit. Trent wrapped a hand around the shaft and could not close his fingers. A shiver went through him, half nerves, half want. He leaned in and licked the head, tasting salt and clean skin, and Theo’s groan rolled through the small room like praise.

He sucked. He could only take the head and a little of the shaft, jaw stretched, lips shiny, but he worked what he could with his mouth and stroked the rest with both hands. He worshiped it the way his body seemed to already know how: slow licks up the underside, tongue pressing the thick vein, mouth sinking down until his eyes watered and he pulled back to breathe and went down again. Theo’s hand settled in his wet hair, not forcing, just resting, thick fingers gentle.

“That’s it,” Theo said, voice rough. “Look at you. Straight boy on his knees for a cock this big, and you’re hungry for it. Suck me. Get it wet. You’re doing so well.”

Trent moaned around him. The words went straight to his own cock, which jerked untouched between his thighs. He hollowed his cheeks, drool mixing with the shower water, and looked up. Theo was watching him with an expression that made Trent’s stomach flip—fond, filthy, proud. Trent took him deeper, gagged softly, and didn’t stop. He wanted to be good at this. He wanted Theo to keep talking to him in that low voice.

Theo let him work until his own control frayed. Then he eased Trent off with a thumb at the corner of his mouth. “Up. Turn around. Hands on the wall.”

Trent stood on shaky legs and did as he was told. The tile was cool against his palms. Theo’s body crowded in behind him, chest to his back, that huge cock riding the cleft of his ass. A thick finger, slick with something Theo had grabbed from the shelf—oil, plain and fragrant—traced Trent’s hole. Trent tensed, then breathed out when Theo kissed the nape of his neck.

“I’ll open you slow,” Theo said. “You tell me if it’s too much. You want this?”

“Yes.” Trent pushed back, flushed and certain. “I want it. I want you to fuck me.”

One finger pressed in. The stretch burned, strange and intimate, and Trent gasped. Theo waited, murmuring against his ear, until the muscle gave. A second finger joined the first, scissoring, working oil deep. Theo crooked them and found the place that made Trent’s knees buckle and a broken sound tear out of his throat. He had never been touched there. Pleasure sparked up his spine, bright and shocking, and his cock dripped onto the tile.

“There he is,” Theo growled, pleased. “Tight little hole learning how to take me. You’re going to feel so full. Breathe.”

A third finger. Trent whimpered and bore down, chasing the pressure, shameless already. Theo fucked him open with his hand until Trent was rocking back onto it, begging without quite forming words. Then the fingers slipped free and the broad head of Theo’s cock nudged his hole.

“Ready?”

“Please,” Trent said. “Please, Theo.”

Theo pushed in.

The stretch was enormous. Trent’s mouth fell open on a cry that the water half swallowed. Inch by thick inch, Theo sank into him, pausing whenever Trent’s breath hitched, one heavy arm banded around his chest to hold him up. The burn melted into a deep, aching fullness that Trent felt in his stomach. When Theo was seated all the way, balls snug against him, Trent was shaking and hard and utterly gone.

“God,” Theo rasped. “You took all of me. Perfect. So fucking perfect.”

He fucked him hard in the shower. Not cruel, but deep and relentless once Trent started pushing back and saying yes, yes, harder. The wet slap of Theo’s hips against Trent’s ass filled the tiled room. Every thrust dragged that huge cock over the spot inside him until Trent was moaning without shame, forehead against his forearm, slim body jolting with the force of it. Theo’s hand found his cock and stroked in time, rough and good. Dirty praise poured over him. How tight he was. How pretty he looked split open. How well a straight boy could take a big cock when he wanted it badly enough. Trent heard himself agree, heard himself beg for it deeper, and did not recognize the desperate voice as his own except that it felt true.

Theo pulled out before either of them finished, breathing hard. “Bedroom,” he said. “I want you on your back. I want to see your face when I fuck you.”

They barely dried off. Theo walked him down the hall with a hand on his hip, both of them naked and dripping, and laid him on the wide bed. The sheets were cool. Theo climbed over him, thick body covering Trent’s slim one, and kissed him slow and filthy while he pushed back inside. Missionary stole Trent’s breath all over again. Theo’s weight pinned him in the best way. Those heavy thrusts rocked the bed. Trent wrapped his legs around Theo’s waist and held on, moaning into his mouth, taking every deep stroke. Theo growled against his throat about how perfectly he took it, how his hole was made for this cock, how he was going to fill him up and keep him.

“Harder,” Trent begged. “Don’t stop. I can take it. I want all of it.”

Theo gave it to him. Then he turned him over, pulled his hips up, and took him from behind. Doggy on the bed was deeper still. Trent fisted the sheets and cried out as Theo pounded him, one big hand on the back of his neck, the other gripping his waist hard enough to leave marks Trent already knew he would look at later. The sound of it was obscene—skin on skin, Trent’s broken moans, Theo’s low filthy praise. You’re such a good boy for me. Look at this ass. Taking every inch. My perfect little bottom. Trent came apart under it, cock swinging, leaking, the orgasm building so fast he could barely warn him.

“I’m close—Theo, I’m—”

“Come,” Theo ordered, fucking him through it. “Come on my cock. Let me feel it.”

Trent shattered. Pleasure tore through him in long pulses, his hole clenching hard around that massive length, cum striping the sheets beneath him while he sobbed Theo’s name. Theo lasted only a few more thrusts. He buried himself to the root and came with a rough, broken growl, flooding Trent with a powerful creampie, hot and thick, pulse after pulse, so much that Trent felt it deep and then felt it start to leak around the cock still seated inside him. The sensation dragged another weak spasm out of him. They stayed locked together, shaking, until Theo eased down over his back and kissed his shoulder, both of them wrecked and breathing like they had run.

Theo pulled out carefully. Cum spilled warm down Trent’s thigh. He gathered Trent against his chest and rolled them onto their sides, away from the wet spot, and held him. For a long minute there was only breath and the slowing thunder of two hearts.

Trent lay blissfully spent, sore in a way that felt like a secret he wanted to keep. His hole ached, used and full, and he did not want to move. Theo’s broad hand stroked his back in slow passes, gentle now, grounding.

“I loved it,” Trent said into the quiet. His voice was hoarse. He was surprised by how easy the truth was. “Being topped. Taking you. I didn’t know I could want that, and I loved it. All of it.”

Theo tipped his chin up and kissed him, slow and satisfied, no rush left in it. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I loved giving it to you. You were perfect.”

They kissed again, unhurried, Theo’s thumb tracing Trent’s cheekbone. Outside, the building was ordinary. Inside, Trent’s world had tilted and settled into a new shape he already wanted to visit again.

“This won’t be the last time,” Theo said.

“No.” Trent’s mouth curved against his. A plan was already forming, bright and shameless, behind his closed eyes. Owen’s spare key lived on a hook by their door. Tomorrow Trent could leave his own key in a drawer on purpose, come home from whatever the day held, and knock on Theo’s door with the same helpless story and a body that already knew what it wanted. He could ask to shower. He could leave the bathroom door unlocked. He could get on his knees again and take that huge cock until Theo filled him and held him after. He was already scheming the hour, the excuse, the way he would look up from the tile and say join me like he had tonight, only hungrier.

“Next time I get locked out,” Trent said softly, “it might not be an accident.”

Theo’s laugh was low and warm against his mouth. “Then I’ll be here,” he said, and kissed him again, slow and sure, while Trent lay in his arms and planned exactly how soon he could make that happen.