Love Me Tenor

by Annabeth Albert

  Jalen might not be down with semipublic orgasms, but here, in their own room, with the door locked, he was more than happy to risk running late. Carter and Carson did it all the time—and fuck. That was an excellent reason to be late. The less time he had to spend with the fallout from whatever the hell went on last night between the two of them the better.

  Thank God they’d ended up in a different van from Carson and Carter on the way back to the house. He didn’t know what was going on with them—not his business, but man, if they messed up the group’s shot to go to DC, Jalen was going to smack both of them.

  Enough thinking about all the ways the day could go to suck—time to actually suck. He mouthed a determined trail down Trevor’s chest. Trevor made a soft sigh, but he didn’t try to alter Jalen’s course. So far, he’d only been okay with Jalen going down on him if they were doing 69, which was nice but could be a bit distracting. What he’d been craving was the chance to focus only on Trevor.

  He pushed Trevor’s boxers down. The room was still dark, so he couldn’t see any of the fading marks on Trevor’s chest and stomach. That didn’t stop him from sucking on the soft skin of Trevor’s belly, laving the downy hair with his tongue.

  He didn’t need light to find Trevor’s cock. It jumped against his cheek and chin as Jalen slid lower in the bed.

  “This okay?” he asked. Much as he wanted to suck Trevor, especially while he was in that cuddly stage between asleep and awake, he didn’t want Trevor actually asleep.

  Trevor’s “yeah” was shaky. He was awake. Awake and a little nervous, and Jalen could work with that. He fumbled around for Trevor’s hand, found it, and squeezed.

  I want this so bad and you are so beautiful for giving it to me, he tried to say with his hand and with his lips ghosting over the tip of Trevor’s dick.

  “Don’t tease,” Trevor whispered. “Please.”

  That husky please went right to Jalen’s dick. He wiggled against the sheets, seeking some relief before he swallowed Trevor deep. See, this was what was nicer than the complexities of a 69—he could go deep without fearing that a sudden movement or awkward angle was going to take out his soft palate.

  “Uh-huh huh.” Trevor’s moan cut through the stillness of the early morning air.

  Jalen used every trick he knew to milk Trevor’s cock with hard suction while teasing the underside with his tongue. The head of Trevor’s dick, with its pronounced crown, was so fun to play with. He loved finding new spots to tease. Trevor thrashed against the sheets but held fast to Jalen’s hand, squeezing harder as his moans got more broken.

  This was going to be fast and dirty, with no time for the sort of edging Jalen loved doing. When they rubbed off, he loved getting them both right to the brink and then backing off and repeating until Trevor was begging to come and chanting his name. He could fly for hours on that rush of power. But this was sexy, too, knowing that Trevor was hurtling toward orgasm and he was the cause.

  With his free hand, he teased Trevor’s balls. Some other time Jalen wanted to lick them, see how long he could make Trevor wait for a touch on his cock. Jalen’s hand skated lower, tickling the thin skin behind Trevor’s balls, where he was so sensitive. He made a low keening noise, and Jalen gave him what he needed, rubbing his finger across the tight pucker. Jalen still wasn’t the most on ass play, but even little touches made Trevor gasp and moan. Coaxing those sounds from him was plenty sexy, as was thinking about what he could do to make him lose his mind even more. If Trevor acted electrified from a single finger, what could Jalen do with some lube and two fingers? Could Trevor take more than that even?

  Jalen rutted against the bed, snapping his hips faster as Trevor’s moans got more frantic and his own imaginings got more detailed. The image of Trevor spread out, taking his fingers or the plug they’d bought was sexy in the same way holding him down was—the idea of pushing sensations onto Trevor, him yielding to Jalen, giving Jalen all the control. Hot sparks rained down his spine, ricocheted pleasure to all sorts of unexpected places—backs of his knees, his neck, even his feet weren’t immune from the onslaught.

  He timed his thrusts against the bed with Trevor’s gasps and moans. Hands linked, the hot weight of Trevor’s cock against his tongue, breathing synchronized—he’d never felt closer to another person than in that instant. His pulse kept beating out the words his brain refused to say aloud—I love you, I love you, I love you.

  “Gonna . . . ooh . . . Jalen.” Trevor’s hand was like a vise around Jalen’s and his whole body went tense, trembling with little shudders as the first shot hit the back of Jalen’s mouth. The halting sound of his name on Trevor’s lips pushed him over the edge, too, until he was swallowing and coming, coming and swallowing in a weird concert of sensations. His throat spasmed, not unpleasantly, more like it wanted in on the orgasmic action.

  “Oh fuck.” He released Trevor’s dick with a wet plop and rolled to the side, out of the sticky mess he’d made on the sheet. He dropped Trevor’s hand, but Trevor immediately yanked it back again, grip tight as more spasms rocked his body. Jalen scooted up so he could stroke Trevor’s hair and kiss his damp cheeks.

  “You okay, baby?” He kissed some of the wetness away.

  “Yeah. That was . . . really intense.”

  “It was,” Jalen said carefully.

  Trevor pulled him closer. Jalen tasted more salty wetness on his cheeks. “Need . . .”

  “Anything.” Jalen cuddled him closer, covering him with his body, knowing that sometimes helped Trevor when he was coming down hard.

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  Fuck a duck. That was Jalen’s second alarm. Ten minutes to get downstairs. He wanted to hold Trevor as long as it took him to feel okay again, wanted to talk out whatever emotions the sex had unearthed, wanted to reassure Trevor however he could. But he couldn’t do any of that.

  “I’m okay,” Trevor said, even though he clearly wasn’t. He pushed Jalen off him. “We gotta go. Think I can shower in three minutes?”

  “Let me have thirty seconds to rinse the cum off, and then I’ll go downstairs and cover for you while you get dressed and meds and stuff.”

  “Awesome.” Trevor’s tone sounded exactly the opposite, but he leaned over and kissed Jalen’s cheek. “I’ll feel better in a bit. I’m sure.”

  That wasn’t exactly reassuring. Jalen grabbed a towel but left the bathroom door open so he could reply, “Was it something I did?”

  He was busy turning on the faucets and almost missed Trevor’s shrug. “It’s weird. I felt so close to you during. But sometimes I don’t think I deserve it. Feeling good, I mean.”

  “Oh Trev.” All the air fled Jalen’s lungs in a huge rush. Leaving the water running, he crossed back over to Trevor. Squeezed him tight. “Of course you do.”

  “Go rinse.” Trevor shoved him back toward the bathroom. If only the haunted expression on his face was as easy to rinse away.

  Chapter Sixteen

  @NextDirectionShow What an amazing night! So awesome to see how changed our groups are in just three short weeks!

  @CarsonNCarter Listening to Rufus Wainwright

  The show had set out coffee and snacks in the dining room to grab on the way to the bus. The residential street was too narrow for the charter bus, so they were walking up to a parking lot on the main road. Jalen’s shirt clung to his back because he hadn’t bothered drying off well and his jeans were too stiff and rough for his damp thighs, which were a bit chafed from rubbing against the sheets. But whatever discomfort he felt paled in comparison to how Carson looked. He had a coffee in each hand, rumpled flannel pants, unshaven cheeks, faded sweatshirt advertising his college’s crew team, and a deep scowl.

  Jalen slid behind him in line for food, catching a distinct whiff of hangover. He grabbed a coffee and two bagels, getting two packets of peanut butter for Trevor, as well as cream cheese for himself.

  “I am not sitting next to Carter on the bus,” Carson hissed at Jalen as they made their way to the
foyer. Everyone had backpacks and bags because they were staying two nights near the festival, and most of the groups looked as bleary as Jalen felt. He was not up to dealing with this newest drama.

  “Whatever.”

  “I mean, if it comes down to splitting you and Trevor up or sitting with him, I’m going to have to insist on switching.”

  Jesus. The drama. It rolled off Carson almost as strong as the stink of stale alcohol. Luckily, Jalen had sisters and knew exactly what all this meant—Carson was wallowing in self-pity, and woe be unto anyone who might be happy.

  Trevor and a few other stragglers came down the stairs. Trevor didn’t look as bad as Carson, but he didn’t look good either—skin too pale, even in the early morning light, eyes dull, steps dragging. Nope. No way was Jalen passing up sitting next to Trevor. This wasn’t high school and Trevor needed him—even if it was only as a pillow while he got a few more hours of rest. Jalen wanted to provide that for him, give him the slow cuddles he should have after sex.

  “C’mere.” He motioned Carson closer. “See Evan? The dark-haired Heat Loss guy—”

  “They all have dark hair.” Carson’s whisper was a bit loud.

  “The one with the gauges in his ears.” Jalen lowered his own voice even further to remind Carson what a whisper was. “Sit next to him. There’s five Heat Loss guys, and he’s usually the odd one out. Pretty sure he’s one of us, too.”

  “One of . . . ooh.”

  “You wanna make someone jealous, that’s the direction I’d go.”

  Poor Evan. Guilt sloshed around with the coffee in Jalen’s gut. He really shouldn’t be subjecting Evan to Carson’s hangover and relationship drama. He dug around in his backpack, came up with a pack of mints. “Here. Have some of these first.”

  “Thanks.” Carter shook out a few mints and crunched them up.

  “But really, you should talk—”

  “Not happening.” Carson held up a hand. “He cheated. I’m never talking to him again.”

  “Never talking to who?” Trevor finally wound his way through the crowd to stand in front of Jalen and Carson, right as someone near the door clapped his hands together.

  “All right, let’s head out!”

  Gee. Five or six hours on the road with this group. He wasn’t sure what could be more appealing. Possibly the prospect of having to convince the real couple to play a pretend couple long enough to win this thing while trying to preserve his own real thing? Yeah. Fun times all around.

  “You going to sleep?” Trevor asked Jalen, hoping he wasn’t going to want to talk about earlier, not with so many ears and eyeballs around. He had no idea why a blow job of all things had made him cry.

  “Maybe.” Jalen watched him guardedly. Oh heck. He probably did want to talk.

  Trevor made a show of stretching and yawning. “I can’t believe we had to wake up so early.”

  “You want the playlist I use for sleeping on planes or when one of my sisters has a ton of people over?” Jalen held out his headphones and phone. They’d traded phones a few other times because subjecting the other to their taste in music was kind of their thing.

  “Sure.” Trevor would have agreed to a root canal to avoid talking about the post–blow job tears. “You want mine? I’ve got a chill-out playlist, too. Maybe you can sleep too?” Hint. Hint. Hint.

  “Sure, but let me keep my own headphones. No offense, but mine are more comfortable.” Jalen did the necessary cord rearranging. “We need to get you a pair of Beats, man.”

  “Maybe with my lottery winnings.”

  “You know, if we win this show, it could be like we won the lottery.” Jalen looked like he wanted to say more, but he simply smiled shyly and cued up the playlist for Trevor. He wants to stay together. That thought was even more terrifying than the huge crowd waiting for them at the festival. And no matter how sweet the thought, it wasn’t going to happen. Good things never lasted for Trevor.

  “Unless I missed something, Carter and Carson aren’t speaking to each other. Carter barely made the bus, Carson looks like death, and the Heat Loss guy who always looks like he wants to eat you is currently holding Carson’s coffee for him.”

  “He looks at me like what?” Jalen rubbed his face. Leave it to him to focus in on the least important part.

  “Like you’re mashed potatoes and he’s got a ladleful of gravy waiting.” Trevor rolled his eyes. “Key point there—we’re not winning anything if our group can’t maintain its image of cute guys in love.”

  He emphasized that last bit, the scary word that had clogged his throat this morning, overwhelmed his senses, and okay, okay, made him cry. Because that’s what it had felt like—like someone loved him. Someone who liked him enough to know he was nervous and held his hand through the whole thing was making him feel incredible sensations. Sure Jalen’s mouth was on his dick, but it wasn’t about the specific act—at a really fundamental level it felt like someone taking care of him, loving him—all of him. Each rush of pleasure had a deep undercurrent of emotion behind it, until it had all overwhelmed Trevor—the physical and emotional all jumbled together.

  Jalen might love him even though he totally didn’t deserve it. He might love Jalen, who absolutely did deserve the affection. And none of it really mattered, because sooner or later people in love did terrible things to each other. Witness exhibits C1 and C2, currently ignoring each other.

  “Why don’t you go to sleep and I’ll work on a plan to return group harmony?” Jalen laughed at his own bad pun as he opened his arms for Trevor to cuddle against him. Public napping with his boyfriend felt almost more daring than the restroom sex he’d wanted to have last night. But Jalen’s arms around him, his head against Trevor’s, Jalen’s chill-out mix of movie and video game sound tracks in his ear, all lulled him back to sleep.

  Trevor woke up somewhere north of Seattle, interstate and lots of evergreen trees rushing by. Unlike in the Midwest, there were very few billboards, making the scenery more monotonous and easy to sleep through. Seen one pine tree, seen them all. Jalen had the window seat, his head tipped back against the glass. He was asleep, but his eyes shot open as Trevor tried to extricate himself from Jalen’s arms.

  “You okay?” Jalen asked, rubbing his face and lowering his headphones.

  God, Trevor was so sick of that question.

  “Yeah,” he lied as he dug his backpack out from under the seat. Truth was, he wasn’t so sure. His fasting morning blood sugar had been way higher than normal. He’d taken his meds, but he still felt all gushy-headed despite the nap. He needed to test again, see if sleep had improved things any. “I’m going to go to the restroom. Back in a sec.”

  He’d tested his blood sugar in some pretty weird places since his diagnosis, but the teeny-tiny restroom compartment on the moving bus had to win some sort of award for most challenging. It took two finger pricks to get enough blood on the strip to test, only to have the stupid machine tell him he was still high. It even included the helpful you-may-want-to-discuss-with-your-practitioner warning. It was a sophisticated piece of equipment, able to give him readouts of his weekly and monthly numbers, but even it couldn’t give him a healthcare provider to call.

  He’d try calling student health again on Monday. It was the best he could do. He’d just be extravigilant until then. And no, he was not telling Jalen about this. No sense in them both worrying. He gave Jalen what he hoped was a reassuring—and innocent—smile as he slid back into his seat.

  “We’re stopping at a rest stop in a few minutes so people can stretch their legs and maybe get some food,” Jalen said.

  “Great.” Trevor bit the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning. He could have skipped the juggling routine in the bus bathroom.

  “So here’s the deal. I’m going to grab some food and a table. I’ll handle Carson. Your job is to get Carter to that table.”

  “Uh . . . why?”

  Jalen sighed. “Because we need a group meeting. Like now, before the producers force on
e on us. I just checked, and both Carson and Carter are totally subtweeting each other on social media. It’s vague right now, but we can’t risk our audience latching on to any group strife.”

  “Look at you going all brand management and stuff.”

  “You want to win this thing or not?” Jalen’s big hopeful eyes beseeched him to fight for the group. Fight for the win. Fight for them.

  It didn’t matter how much Trevor doubted their ability to pull it off. No way could he say no to those eyes. “I’m in.”

  He caught up to Carter near the restrooms. “Hey, you hungry?” he asked.

  “Not really.” Like Carson, Carter looked terrible—big bags under his eyes, unshaven face, rumpled clothes. Usually, he looked the same age as Jalen and Trevor—fresh-faced and early twenties. But today, he looked every bit of his real age.

  “Coffee?” Come on. Work with me here.

  “Okay.” Carter sighed. “And maybe a cinnamon roll or something.”

  Trevor blinked hard to cover his surprise. Carter willingly having carbs was a sure sign of the end times. They got in line for food. Coffee would screw up his blood sugar even more, as would juice. Trevor settled for a breakfast sandwich without the biscuit, figuring the eggs and ham would help his wonky blood sugar. Carter got his usual too-sweet coffee and a giant cinnamon roll that made Trevor’s stomach rumble.

  Want. Not having. Story of my life.

  “Oh fuck no.” Carter pulled up short as he and Trevor made their way into the dining area. “I can’t talk to him right now.”

  Carson and Jalen sat at a table near the window. Trevor used his tray to push Carter forward. “You don’t have to talk.”

  “Not much on listening either.” Carter didn’t budge. Gee thanks, Jalen, for giving me the easy job.

  “Too bad.” Trevor used the same no pity his father always had before launching into a lecture. “We perform in a few hours.”