by Aiden Bates
His fingers clenched around Jason’s wrists in desperation, and although Luke cannot find the words he needed, Jason seemed to understand. His hands settle on Luke’s shoulders, pushing him gently back down against the bed.
“Tell me what you need,” Jason said, against Luke’s lips, his body following Luke’s down to lie not over him, but just beside, the top of one naked thigh pressing in against Luke’s.
Luke was hot, so hot, the want in his belly trembling and twisting like a living thing. He knew what he needed—it was what he had needed all along, but hasn’t had the courage to voice aloud.
“I want…” His voice was as soft as a sigh, his mouth lifting up against Jason’s. “I want you to touch me.”
He parts his thighs as he said the words, hitching his hips up in invitation, and at the shuttered look in Jason’s eyes at his plea he knew Jason understands.
Jason kissed him softly, slipping his tongue between Luke’s parted lips, as his hand slides down between them, over the trembling muscles of Luke’s stomach and along the curve of his hip.
Stretched out naked underneath Jason, Luke’s body felt completely new to him. He had never felt so alive, so aware; his skin was like an unknown landscape, a whole new country of sensations. He could feel every shift in touch, every slight gradation of texture, of heat—the slow progress of Jason’s fingers over his hip drawing him out, shivering and raw, until he had lifting his body up in desperation, moaning softly with need.
“Shh,” Jason breathed against him. “I know what you need. Don’t worry, love. I’m here. Here you were. I’m right here. You’ve got me.”
And then finally—finally, finally—Jason’s warm fingers were closing over the stiff flesh between Luke’s legs and Luke’s entire body went still as the heat of Jason’s palm surrounds him.
“Oh,” he breathed, his mouth falling open, hips lifting of their own accord, urging Jason’s hand to move.
Luke wanted to watch the expression on Jason’s face but his eyes were falling shut, and he cannot stop them—he was overcome, and with his eyes closed he could concentrate better on the feel of Jason’s callused palm gripping him, and on the feel of Jason’s thumb as it slides over the head of his erection, swirling in an agonizing circle.
He was already wet and leaking—Luke could feel the moisture slick under Jason’s thumb, and now his thighs were trembling and he was moaning with want because he cannot take it, he needed Jason’s hand to move.
He reaches out blindly to seize hold of Jason’s arms, whimpering, senseless, his voice a dry rasp of need. “Jason—”
“I’m sorry, love. I know. I was being selfish. I couldn’t help drawing it out, you feel so good in my hand.”
Luke cries out at that, his fingers biting into Jason’s arms, and finally, finally Jason’s hand began to stroke, using the moisture under his thumb to coat the length of Luke.
The feel of it—the slow, slick slid of Jason’s hand around him, the flex in the muscles of Jason’s arms as he strokes—was so good, Luke almost cannot stand it. He tosses his head on the pillow, his breath coming out in short, panting gasps. He could feel perspiration beading on his brow, making his hair stick to the back of his neck.
His eyes were still squeezed shut but he felt the heat of Jason’s mouth pressing a kiss in against the side of his neck, before asking in a constricted voice. “How does that feel?”
Luke forces his eyes open, licks his dry lips and tried to speak, but when he opened his mouth all that comes out was a keening cry of pleasure as Jason’s fingers shift around him.
Jason pressed a kiss to Luke’s swollen lips, pulling back to murmur a warning.
“You’ve got to be quiet, my love. They would—” His own breath was lost in a shudder of heat as Luke pushes his hips up into Jason’s hand, urging him to stroke faster. Luke felt Jason licks his lips against him. “They would hear us.” His voice was soft with apology. “We couldn’t let them hear us.”
Luke nods, desperate, biting hard on his lip to keep from crying out as Jason shifts against him, rising up to his knees and leaning down over Luke, straddling one of Luke’s legs with his muscular thighs, changing the angle of his grip.
Jason’s mouth was at Luke’s ear, his breathing hot and ragged, growing less and less steady with every stroke of his hand.
“My god, Luke, you—you’re so beautiful like this. You’re exquisite.”
The hand that isn’t stroking Luke was warm against his thigh and Luke pressed up against it, needing the pressure, needing an anchor, feeling as though he was going to float apart.
Luke whimpers in his throat and Jason seemed to understand; the press of his palm against the sensitive skin of Luke’s inner thigh as warm as a brand as Jason pushes it down against the mattress.
Luke cannot hold back his cry then, a whine clawing its way out of his throat, and Jason lifts his hand to press his fingers in against Luke’s mouth, a flash of worry in his eyes.
“Hush, my love. Hush now. They would hear us.”
Luke tried, he really tried but the feel of Jason’s fingers pressing in against his mouth only make it harder to keep the sounds from slipping out—and Luke remembered in a dizzying rush of heat how he imagined this very scenario, Jason leaning over him with his fingers at Luke’s mouth, and the fact that it was really happening now, Jason, bending over him, his eyes as dark as the shadows beyond the candle flame, the lines of his body gleaming gold in the gentle light, means that Luke cannot possibly be quiet now, not with Jason’s eyes on him like that, Jason’s hand drawing every ounce of feeling out of him through the touch of his hand.
He cannot stop the chorus of desperate little moaned streaming from his mouth, nor could he stop the force of his hips rising up to meet each of Jason’s strokes.
Luke shook his head on the pillow, clutching in desperation at Jason’s arm. “I couldn’t—I couldn’t! I’m sorry—”
“Shh, it was alright. It was alright.” Jason lifts a hand to cup Luke’s cheek, bends low to kiss his mouth, his hand never stopping in the rhythm of his strokes. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
It was Jason’s quiet assurance that pushes Luke over the edge, the gentle feeling of his mouth opening against Luke’s.
The sweet, wet heat of Jason’s mouth coupled with the lovely friction of his hand on Luke’s cock drives a spike of pleasure through him so intense, so white-hot with feeling that he fears in that moment that he would break apart.
His body arches, his back lifting off the bed, fingers clenching on Jason’s arms; the cry that issues from his lips lost in the heat of Jason’s mouth.
Pleasure bursts open within him, coursing through his veins, and Luke had moved outside his body. He was heat, he was light; he was speed without sound, nothing more than a swell of upward movement toward something that he cannot see or describe.
He was shaking with the force of it, so swift, so all-encompassing that for one frightening moment Luke fears he would be carried away with it and lost, unable to come back to himself; but then, he was crashing back to earth and into the awareness of his body with shattering abruptness.
Dimly, Luke registers his body sinking back down to the mattress, his chest heaving with exertion, his forehead damp with sweat.
Jason had settled fully between his thighs, his weight on his elbows to hold himself above Luke’s chest, and he was kissing him, softly, all over his face. Tiny, gentle, close-mouthed kissed against his hairline, his temple, his chin; each one a reassurance and a question in its own right, seeming to ask, ‘Are you alright? Are you alright? Are you alright?’
When Luke flutters his eyelids open—his eyelashes sticking with what Luke suspects might be tears—he looked up to find Jason gazing down at him with worry, his hands lifting immediately to frame Luke’s face, blue eyes swimming with tenderness.
“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice rough, and Luke lifts his arms up around Jason’s neck to pull him down against him.
“Yes,�
� he whispers, his lips sticking against Jason’s cheek, his heart pounding harder than he had ever felt it with love for the man above him. It was as if what Jason had given Luke had shaken something lose inside himself—something that was caged up and trying to break free, but had no means of doing so.
It was as if Jason had suddenly presented him with the key.
Luke opened his mouth, felt his lips tremble with the weight of the words he had about to speak.
“I love you,” he whispers, voice growing bolder with each word, arms tightening around Jason’s neck. “I love you, Jason Watson.”
Luke said it again, and this time, the words come easily, come effortlessly, as natural as the wind moving over the sea.
“I love you, I love you, I love you.”
Luke waits, his arms still twined around Jason’s neck, to see what Jason would say.
Jason was silent for several long heartbeats but Luke does not even feel afraid, so full up with joy he felt at any moment that he would overflow.
Never before had he felt the way he felt right now, his body was quiet, humming with satisfaction. He felt soft and open, like a flower whose petals have been gently pulled apart, and now all the light of the world was streaming in, filling him with warmth.
There was a quietness in him, a contentedness that he had never before experienced, but at the same time, there was an undercurrent of new awareness thrumming through him, like a secret spring he did not know was in him all along come suddenly to life. He felt alive with possibility, his body tingling, wide-awake.
And Jason was here with him, here, here between his thighs, his body hot and hard against Luke, the force of his arousal still very present against Luke’s hip. Luke shivered at the weight of it, gently shifts against him, full of pleasure at the thought of helping Jason find his own release.
But Jason was still quiet against him.
Luke’s face was pressed in against Jason’s neck—he could feel the hot rhythm of Jason’s pulse against his cheek, but he cannot see his face. He pulled back a little to see Jason’s expression.
Jason’s face was turned away from him but Luke could see the sorrow in his expression in the down-turned corners of his mouth.
“Jason?” he whispers softly, voice full of horror. “What’s the matter?”
Jason looked down at Luke—his face was not so very far away, his weight still supported on his elbows to hold himself above Luke—and Luke could see tears standing out in his eyes.
“Forgive me,” Jason said, and then he had rolling off of Luke, pushing the heels of his hands in against his eyes to wipe his tears away.
He stays like that, with his fingers pressed against his eyes, his bare chest heaving in the soft light, and Luke watched him, motionless with worry, studying the shadowed grooves of Jason’s ribs, that grow more distinct with each inhaled breath, that soften with each exhale.
He wanted to reach out and touch Jason, offer him comfort, but it was his words after all that made Jason react this way, so he stays where he was, frozen with fear, watching the trembling line of Jason’s mouth grow smaller with every passing moment.
After what seemed like an eternity to Luke, Jason lowered his hands, blows out a long breath.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice unsteady, his eyes still wet. “I would say I don’t know what’s come over me, but I know exactly what’s come over me.”
“Did I do it wrong?” Luke’s voice was smaller than a speck of dust.
Jason shook his head, a burst of breathless laughter rising to his lips, but it comes out sounding like a sob.
“No, you didn’t,” he said, smiling briefly before his mouth shrinks, lips bending at the corners before vanishing completely as he pressed them together. “No, it was…”
Luke watched the line of Jason’s mouth shrink again, and felt a prickling wave of dread move through him. He hates it—he hates seeing Jason look like his heart had been torn out of his chest and then flayed open. It was all wrong. Jason should be happy; Jason should be overjoyed, but instead…
“It was you, Luke. Having you here with me, the fact that you feel this way about me… I’m having a hard time believing this was real.”
Jason reaches down for Luke’s hand, which was lying motionless between them, palm up. He traces a finger over Luke’s palm and down to the tip of his middle finger. Luke shivered at the touch.
“I couldn’t believe how lucky I am,” Jason breathed into the darkness between them. “Hearing you say it, I…”
Jason shook his head again, his voice growing thick, and suddenly Luke understands. He knew exactly what Jason was describing. He had felt it almost every day since he first met Jason. The experience of loving someone so much that it felt as though his body cannot contain it, as though it was bursting out of him from every pore, as though he would drown in it, be burned up in the heat of his feelings. Perhaps Jason had felt it all along too, but he didn’t realize that Luke felt that way as well, until now, until Luke let himself come apart beneath Jason’s hand, until Luke said the words out loud.
Luke curls his fingers around Jason’s; looked down at their entwined fingers.
“So you’re not… actually sad then?”
Jason let out another breathless laugh, but this one sounds less like a sob.
“No. No, Luke, I’m not sad at all. Quite the opposite.” Jason squeezes Luke’s fingers between his own, so hard it hurts. Luke was grateful for the pain. It took the sting out of his worry; makes the moment feel more real.
Jason’s eyes flicker up to Luke’s face for the first time since he rolled away, and his expression changes yet again, real sorrow flashing in his eyes.
“Oh, Luke, love. Don’t look like that. I’m crying because I’m happy, fool that I am. My god, I’ve never been so happy. Oh love, come here.”
Jason reaches out and wraps an arm around Luke’s shoulders, pulling Luke to his side.
Luke’s worry was gone in an instant, washed away by the feeling of Jason’s warm naked body against his own, Jason’s bare arm hard around his shoulders.
He was naked and Jason was naked and here they were, lying against one another, Jason’s mouth against his hair.
Luke’s body felt so soft, so loose. There was a warm tingling feeling moving all through him, growing louder every moment as he becomes aware of every point at which his body was touching Jason’s.
His face was on Jason’s shoulder, his chest pressed in against Jason’s ribs, his hips tucked in against Jason’s thigh. As an experiment, Luke shifts the leg that was laying against Jason’s, lifts it so that his right leg twines around Jason’s left, feeling the slid of skin against skin as he settles it between both of Jason’s.
Luke listens to the sound of Jason’s breathing growing unsteady above him, and felt delight unspooling hot and fluttering inside his belly. Jason was here against him, all his, to touch, to taste, to become acquainted with. He shifts his hips a little closer into Jason, feeling giddy at the prospect.
He rubbed his cheek against the smoothness of Jason’s chest and then wriggled back a bit, readjusting so that his nose was pressed into the warm hollow under Jason’s arm.
The fact that Jason was warm and smooth to touch comes as no great surprise to Luke—he was already deeply appreciative of the sleek lines of Jason’s body, the cords of his muscles standing out under the skin—but what’s unbelievable to Luke, what was impossible to imagine before now, was the smell of him.
There was soft golden hair underneath Jason’s arm, slightly damp with sweat, and Luke found when he pushes his nose into it and inhales, there the smell of Jason was strongest. He smells like clean sweat and heat and sunlight, and truly Luke thinks, there were no words to describe the smell of Jason, other than to say he smells like sex itself.
Jason makes a soft sound above him as Luke buries his nose underneath his arm.
“Luke, love, what—?”
But Jason’s question was swallowed by a gasp of shocked delight
as Luke opened his mouth and licks at the warm, wet flesh.
He pulled back and settles his weight on his elbows to look down at Jason. His eyes were serious. “You taste as good as you smell.”
“Oh my god,” Jason said and his head was falling back against the mattress, his eyes sliding shut.
In contrast to the warm, loose pliancy of his own body, pressed up against Jason, Luke was suddenly aware of the tension present in Jason’s. There was a tremor running through him, as fine as a ripple of wind across the surface of still water, and Luke sits up a little higher on his elbows, feeling determined. He wanted to give back to Jason what Jason had just given him so selflessly.
Luke runs a hot palm down the center of Jason’s chest, watched Jason’s torso jerk in response.
“Jason,” Luke whispers, his voice full of reverence, stroking his long fingers down over Jason’s muscular hip, his thumb lingering in the groove of his pelvic bone. “Tell me what to do.”
Jason let out a soft groan and opened his eyes.
“Oh my god,” he said again, and Luke notices how black his eyes have become, blacker and blacker with every passing moment until Luke was certain he would tip forward into them and drown.
“You’ve said that a lot tonight.” Luke’s voice was soft, his thumb still stroking over the groove in Jason’s hip. It felt so good he never wanted to stop touching him there.
Jason tried to laugh but it comes out all wrong—a breathless, helpless sound. “I couldn’t handle you looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” Luke asked, sitting all the way up so he could hold Jason’s other hip with his free hand. Now he was holding Jason’s body between both of his hands. It felt right. He likes the way his long white fingers look framing Jason’s golden hips. It looked like something beautiful.
“Like you’re a wolf pup that hasn’t eaten in a week. All teeth and dark eyes.” Jason’s voice was low and heavy, as heavy as Luke’s body felt as he leaned over Jason, hands hot on his hips. He felt like any second now he would dissolve, become liquid just so he could pour himself over Jason, seep into every inch of him.