Snappin the Burn
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E. L. Koslo
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318K
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Chapter 1
Snappin the Burn: A Parker and Lincoln Steamy One-Shot
Parker
âAre you sure this is really necessary?â Lincoln asked as he stood inside the door to the high-end costume shop Iâd dragged him into against his will.
âYou agreed to be my subject, so I get to dictate the wardrobe. Maybe you wouldnât be in this predicament if someone hadnât felt the need to metaphorically pee all over my feed. So, suck it up, buttercup, youâre mine.â
Lincolnâs eyes widened as he took in my fiendish grin. He shuddered as I grabbed his hand and dragged him toward a display near the back of the store.
âYouâre seriously going to make me do this?â he asked, crossing his arms on his chest and looking entirely too displeased with me.
Too bad, he should know better than to think Iâd let him renege on his promise to let me show him off to my Instagram followers.
âMaybe you shouldnât have opened the thirsty floodgates. That way, I wouldnât be fielding dozens of DMs asking me who the shirtless man in my bed was and if Iâd like to share you.
âThey want you, handsome, and I want them to know youâre all mine.â
âThis doesnât have to be the answer, though,â Lincoln protested. âWe could pose for some cute couple-y shots. You know Tate would take them for us. Taking half-naked shots of me seems a little extreme.
âWouldnât that encourage them to flood your DMs more?â
âOh, you underestimate me,â I purred. âWho said you would be alone in these shots, and who said youâd only be ~half-naked?â
Ignoring the astounded look on my handsome beauâs face, I dug into the selection on the rack in front of me.
I mentally cataloged the way his eyes widened when I paused on a nearly translucent Spiderman costume with a few strategically placed solid panels that would theoretically preserve his modesty.
But this situation didnât call for modesty.
This situation called for making it very clear to the hoard of thirsty as fuck gay men that followed me that I was only allowing them to ogle my boyfriend. At the end of the day, he was completely off-limits.
Lincoln had started this, but I was going to finish it. He should have known that posting a photo on my feed of himself adorably rumpled, with an outrageously sexy case of bedhead, would backfire.
Nobody had focused on my cringey face as I drooled on my pillow. They were more fixated on the abs and the hint of a happy trail that disappeared beneath the sheets.
When one of my followers dropped the hashtag #bulgewatch and started the chaos in my comment section over whether Linc was naked underneath the sheets and if he was cut or uncut, I knew I had to take matters into my own hands.
While I may overshare with Hannah and my new bestie Tatum, no one else was privileged to know what kind of equipment my man was packing. Not that either of them returned the favor.
Sometimes, I even joked that Jordan was a big daddy, but Hannah continued to spoil my fun by ignoring my attempts to determine if his height in one aspect translated to length in another.
You make one drunken attempt to measure the length of your best friendâs husbandâs forearm, and suddenly, you have a problem with âboundaries.â
âFuck yes!â I exclaimed when my fingers touched the slick material of the last costume on the rack. I pulled out a slightly metallic, skintight bodysuit that would make Lincâs eyes pop on camera.
âSeriously?â
âWeâre not going to rehash this, Linc. You agreed, and you know there are no takebacks.
âNow, go take this into the fitting room to make sure itâs too tight around your package, then letâs get back home so I can objectify you and parade you around in front of thousands of gay men who want to steal you from me.â
âDonât you mean not too tight?â
âYou know me better than that.â
Lincoln shook his head but took the hanger, reluctantly walking toward the fitting room at the back of the store and disappearing behind the curtain.
I took my time perusing the racks as I made my way to the back of the shop, fingering the soft material of the selections, seeing if anything else jumped out at me.
While I would have loved to squeeze him into a minuscule loincloth and be the Jane to his Tarzan, I knew my skittish boyfriendâs affinity for superheroes would ensure that he would let me coax him into this nerdy boudoir shoot.
Iâd seen some of his other cosplay costumes; this wasnât much more risquĂŠ, but the nearly transparent mesh would leave my legion of Instagram bulge seekers with absolutely no question about their previous inquiries.
Yes, this was probably petty on my part.
Yes, I knew this made Lincoln a little self-conscious to be paraded around on the internet in front of strangers.
And yes, I knew I could go with his PG-rated idea of taking cute pics in the park where we could hold hands and look into each otherâs eyes longingly.
OrâŚwe could stick with my plan and make them all jealous.
I hadnât shown Linc all the DMs gauging the exclusivity of our relationship, and despite a few questionable parties in my early twenties, I did not share.
âYouâve been quiet back here,â I commented as I stepped into the hallway leading to the fitting rooms, glancing under the edge of the curtains to see if I could spot Lincolnâs feet.
Considering that the man hated wearing shoes, it didnât take me long. âAre you purposely ignoring me?â
âNo,â he said quietly, pulling back the curtain slightly to reveal extremely tight spandex covering the smooth contours of his toned biceps.
Hannahâs doctor encouraging her to join a gym had been literally the best decision ever. Not only did she find a hunky new husband, but nepotism allowed Lincoln and me to work out whenever we wanted.
It was all because I wouldnât let Hannah pay me for babysitting when she wanted to defile more gym equipment with said hunky husband. She should have known better; baby Nate loved hanging out with his favorite gay uncles.
âLooks good from this viewpoint. You going to show me the rest?â
Lincoln dropped the edge of the curtain, reaching around it to grasp my hand and pull me into the small cubicle with him.
To say I was proud of my selection was a fucking understatement. Not one dip or curve on his body was concealed. The costume fit him like a glove.
âWell, this is nice,â I commented, slowly running my fingertips down his chest. âHow does it feel?â
âSurprisingly comfortable, but it doesnât really hide anything.â
Grinning, I stepped forward. Lincolnâs back gently pressed against the wall behind him, his soft breath fanning across my face as I totally invaded his personal space.
âThat,â I started, leaning in, my chest lightly brushing against his, âis the whole fucking point.â
Lincolnâs chest heaved as my fingers wandered over him, the tips tracing the defined divots of his newly acquired washboard abs through the soft material that felt more like his skin than a costume.
âYouâre going to make me hard if you keep doing that,â he whispered, his gaze nervously darting between my eyes and the curtain behind me.
The store had been practically deserted when we came in, and the young cashier had seemed more concerned with the phone glued to her hand than any potential sales.
âToo late,â I teased, my fingers slowly tracing across the head of his cock, which was well on its way to rising to the occasion. âSeems pretty solid to me.â
âIâm going to make a mess of this costume before we even leave the store if you keep doing that.â
âWell, we canât have that,â I agreed, stepping back and pulling my cell phone from my pocket.
I swiped over to the camera, quickly switching to portrait mode and changing the light filter settings. It wasnât my SLR, but it would get the job done. âLean back, hands flat, and place your right foot on the wall behind you.â
âParkerâŚ,â he warned, but he obeyed my directions, spreading his hands wide against the wall behind him and bending his knee to rest his foot on the surface.
The angle of his leg cast a shadow across his waist, partially camouflaging his erection beneath the red material.
âHold still.â Stepping forward, I reached up to adjust the neckline of his costume, turned the seams to the backs of his arms, and smoothed the slightly bunched material near his shoulders. âOne more thingâŚâ
Lincolnâs eyes widened as my palms cupped his pecs.
My fingers slowly traced lower before I stopped, running the tips of my fingers over the slightly raised indentations of his covered nipples. Knowing it drove him a little wild, I quickly pinched the puckered skin.
His neck arched as his head softly thumped the wall behind it. âFuck, Park. Youâre killing me here,â he panted, his fingers flexing against the surface behind him as his cock visibly thickened beneath the scant clothing.
âPayback is a bitch, isnât it?â I teased, taking a few steps back and lifting my camera to frame the enticing scene before me on the screen. âTilt your head down but look back at me through your lashes. Try to look broody.â
Lincoln reluctantly followed my directions, directing a smoldering gaze at me from beneath his obnoxiously long lashes.
âIt really is unfair how pretty you are.â It was one of the reasons I initially hadnât wanted to date him. The pretty boys Iâd been with during my slut era were too arrogant and terrible tops.
Thankfully, Lincolnâs nerdy side kept him from being a total narcissistic ass. But boy was his ass a sight to behold. Round and firm andâŚ
âFocus, Parker. Stop daydreaming and get these pictures so we can go home. I was promised a blow job if I cooperated, and as you can see, Iâm primed and ready.â
âWho said we need to be home for that to happen?â
Lincoln shifted, almost dropping his pose, but he was right. Iâd dragged him this far into it. I needed to take some pictures before I defiled my hot Spiderman. I was dying to get my mouth on his PeterâŚParker.
âStay right where you are,â I urged.
He resumed his position.
âSmolder more. Pretend youâre irritated with me and want to angry bang.â
âDonât need to pretend for that,â he threatened, his voice taking on that smoky quality he used when he was horny. I fucking loved it.
Iâd never thought that being with the same guy monogamously would be something Iâd want, but after meeting Lincoln, I didnât want anyone else.
âNow turn around, put your hands on the wall at chest level, and look back at me over your shoulder.â
His intense look never faltered as I moved from side to side, carefully centering Linc on my phoneâs screen.
The tension between us finally snapped, and he grabbed my hand, pulling me roughly into his chest.
âStop teasing me, Parker. Iâm about to lose it.â
