A Cordial Agreement

by Ryan Loveless

  “This is for you. I hope you’ll like it.”

  Jim took the bag and dropped it on the bed without looking inside. “Why did you kiss me?”

  Jessup looked as if the question surprised him. “I… I forgot myself, I guess. I wanted to comfort you. Hugging you—didn’t seem like enough. I’m sorry. I also admit that I didn’t fully understand what it means to be asexual. I am so sorry.”

  “Do you kiss everyone you turn into a sobbing mess?”

  “No.”

  “Just me?”

  “I overstepped,” Jessup said. “I lost control of my body and I ruined the moment. And worse, I’m afraid I violated your security. You should have felt safe in my home, and I think that because of what I did, I ruined that for you.”

  Jim wasn’t about to give him any leeway. He’d trusted Jessup, and the moment he let his guard down….

  “I laid out my restrictions from the beginning. You chose to dance over them.”

  “Not intentionally.” He took a step back, though there was nowhere to go in Jim’s small room. “I’m sorry for my tone. You make me—” He stopped and sighed, then looked at Jim with an expression of regret. “You make me feel things that I haven’t let myself feel in a long time. I’m not used to what you’re doing to me. I’m sorry I haven’t handled it well.”

  “What I’m doing to you?” Incredulousness took over Jim’s tone. “I’m showing up and sticking to our agreement. Can you hear yourself? Do you know what you sound like?”

  A chuckle from Jessup, tinted with disbelief. “I do now. See? No one calls me out on my shit anymore. Outside my family, I mean. You’re honest with me, so I want to be honest with you. After you left, I called Tanya and asked her to explain asexuality. I wanted to understand your reaction. She explained that there are different types of asexuality and varying degrees. I know a lot happened at once. If you’re comfortable, would you tell me what made you run out?”

  “Aside from your not asking me permission for anything?” Jim asked.

  “Yeah. Unless that was it? I shouldn’t have kissed you, but you hugged me first, and I… I’m sorry, this sounds like I’m blaming you. I—” Jessup stopped, seemingly at a loss. “Could you please say something before I babble myself into offending you?”

  Jim had been uncertain when he came home and found Jessup in his apartment. But now all the reasons he liked him presented themselves in Jessup’s bumbling attempts to make it right. Of all the times Jim had fled a relationship, no one had ever come after him to ask why. He’d missed Jessup, and now he felt justified for his feelings. He realized he’d have to speak, not just stare with a fond smile at the billionaire in his bedroom.

  “It was your dick,” Jim said.

  “My…?”

  “You pressed up against me, and I felt that you were hard, and I panicked. Before you ask, I’ve never been molested or assaulted. I just don’t like sex with other people.”

  Jessup considered this. He ticked through theories. Jim watched and waited. “With other people?” There. He almost had it. “How do you feel about masturbation?”

  “A-plus,” Jim smiled. “I just don’t like other people’s hands on me. Or anything else.”

  “Like cocks.”

  “Exactly.”

  Grant looked away but seemed to make a decision. “I want to be honest with you. I have fantasies about watching you touch yourself. About you knowing I’m watching and making yourself feel good in front of me. I’m telling you this because I have also developed feelings for you. You are a wonderful person, and I enjoy you very much. I want to continue spending time with you, but I also want you to be comfortable. It would be unfair of me not to mention what’s going on in my mind.”

  Jim’s breath quickened. Could Jessup know that Jim’s fantasies were almost the same? Except he imagined Jessup’s phantom hands on his body. “I’m used to being people’s fantasies. It’s my job.”

  “You have to admit given our relationship, this is a little different.”

  “I like you too. And I missed you.”

  Jessup huffed a relieved laugh. “Thank God. So… now what? How do we move forward?”

  Jim chuckled. Of course Jessup wanted a plan. “Tell me more about your fantasy. Maybe I can help you with it.”

  Jim had never seen anyone blush so fast. “When Tanya told me about you, she said you looked like a god. I asked her, ‘Hercules or Mercury?’ but the god I used to fantasize about was Narcissus. When I was a boy, we had a pond at the bottom of our property with cattails and water lilies all around it. I used to imagine Narcissus there gazing at his reflection, running his hands through his hair, touching his face and his body. It was… tame, but for me, it was all I dared to allow myself.”

  “Your family disapproved?” Jim guessed.

  “They didn’t have a chance. I never told them about my struggles with my sexuality. If not for it coming out in my divorce, I’d still be hiding it. Hence my lame fantasy that you have brought back to life with roaring intensity.”

  “I’m not Narcissus.”

  “No. But you’re as beautiful. And as untouchable.”

  Jim closed his eyes and took a leap. Honesty begat honesty, right? “What if I told you that I think about you when I’m touching myself? What if I said that I come home from seeing you and I imagine your hands on me, doing all the things my body will not let you do? What if I said I get off on it?”

  “So you do think about me that way?”

  “I think my type of asexuality makes fantasy incredibly arousing, even though I have the strongest repulsion to being touched.”

  “Mr. Sieber,” Jessup breathed, “if you’re willing, might we combine our fantasies and see what reality makes of them?”

  “You know Shannon is probably listening at the door.”

  “I don’t care if you don’t.”

  “I think you should call me Jim.”

  Jessup smiled. “Grant.”

  “I’d like to try. I don’t know if I can do this if I can see you. I can turn around or… wait.” He dug into a dresser drawer and pulled out a sleeping mask. “Will it ruin it for you if I wear this?”

  Grant shook his head. “I only want to do this if you’re comfortable. I can see it’s new for you. It means so much that you would share this with me.”

  “What’s new for me is having someone who actually cares how I feel.”

  “I do,” Grant said fervently.

  “Okay. Um. I’ll stand here. And you stay over there.”

  Jessup obeyed.

  “Is it okay if I talk?”

  Jim paused and gave Jessup a final glance as he held the mask over his head. “Yes. I would like that a lot.” Then he pulled the mask down and blocked his vision. At first, there was silence as Jim waited for Jessup—for Grant’s—first order. He was certain it would be an order. He would have Jim undress, probably. Jim flushed with the idea of showing Grant his body. All of his body. Certain that Grant could see the color rising in his cheeks, Jim felt his face go from pleasant warmth to flame.

  “I imagined Narcissus touching his face,” Grant said. “Those long, strong fingers delving into his hair and pushing it off his forehead.” He paused until Jim got the clue and ran his fingers through his hair. “His hair covered the nape of his neck, and he’d lift it up and tilt his head so I could imagine my lips there, kissing up to his ear and behind it. Imagine myself nibbling his lobe.”

  Jim traced up the directed route, tilting as Grant suggested, and imagined he could feel Grant’s soft breath on his ear. Grant’s decision to use the third person and let Jim be someone else made it easier for Jim to fall into the fantasy. He didn’t feel self-conscious anymore. He only wanted to know where Narcissus would touch himself next. Jim obeyed with breathless haste as Grant’s voice took him on a tactile tour of his lips and jawline and down his torso. He rubbed his nipples through his shirt, almost sobbing with pleasure.

  “Then he reached under his shirt and slowly pulled it
up so I could see every line of his gorgeous torso.”

  Jim bit back a whimper as he followed along. He pulled his shirt up but not quite off, instead running his fingernails over the chiseled lines of his chest as he waited for Grant to give the word.

  “When he took it all the way off, I wanted to touch myself,” Grant whispered. Jim tossed the shirt away. “But I didn’t. I watched as he circled his fingers around his dark rose nipples. The more he touched himself, the perkier they became, like they were begging him to touch them.” Grant emitted a shaky sigh that Jim echoed helplessly as he circled his nipples. He moaned when Grant finally told how Narcissus would pinch them, latching on with a fierceness he didn’t normally have.

  “I imagined pressing my hands against his chest, spreading them out to touch as much of his beautiful body as I could,” Grant said.

  Jim hissed, reluctantly releasing his nubs to splay his hands over his chest. Being blindfolded had an added benefit. With the mask on, Jim’s fingers weren’t his. They were Grant’s. He could pretend so easily, and all with the safe knowledge that this was only fantasy. He had no worries about someone going too far and making his body and mind seize up in protest. Inside his pants, his cock was as hard as it could get, impatiently waiting for the acted-out fantasy to pay it attention. Not being able to see also made this experience different from all the times he performed for other people’s pleasure at the club. This time, he felt like the experience was more for him than for the person watching. He knew that Grant wasn’t going to shove a ten into his G-string. He trusted Grant to keep his word and keep back, so all Jim had to do was listen to his voice and fall into the fantasy.

  Grant talked him through caressing his way down his chest, describing each line of muscle in graphic detail until Jim’s fingers followed his directions into his waistband and lower, where Jim’s cock waited to get in on the game. By the time Jim had his pants open and his cock in his hand, rivulets of sweat dropped from his hair. Grant seemed to be having trouble keeping his breathing steady as he talked about Narcissus taking himself in hand, a direction Jim obeyed with grateful acuity. He’d never come like this before, with someone talking him through it, but he felt safe with Grant’s voice and soon splattered over his hand. He rubbed it into his cock and chest, and listened for Grant, whose breathing had become heavy and harsh.

  Jim pulled the sleeping mask off. His hair was sweat-soaked around his ears and at the nape of his neck. He pushed it off his forehead as he looked for Grant. For a moment, they stared at each other, both panting.

  “That was—” Good, Jim wanted to say, but as Grant’s chest rose and fell, he lost the words.

  “I came in my pants,” Grant gasped. “My God, you’ve turned me into a fifteen-year-old.”

  Jim chuckled. “Well, you can see what you did to me.” He wiped his chest and reached for his shirt.

  “Wait.”

  “What?” Jim looked at his chest to see if he’d left any cum on himself.

  “May I hug you?”

  Pausing, Jim considered the request. Did he want to be touched when his body still trembled from what they’d done and still relished the safety of how they’d done it? “I don’t think so, no.”

  “Okay,” Grant said.

  Jim pulled his shirt on. “But, another time, when we haven’t done this, I’d like that.”

  Grant grinned. “I can handle that. Where’s your bathroom?”

  “To the left. You can’t miss it.”

  Grant opened the door.

  “Hey, Grant!” Shannon chirped. Jim picked up Grant’s gift bag and looked inside. He’d been certain it contained something meaningless and expensive, designed to soothe him over. Instead, Grant had given him the lavender-scented pillow. Jim collapsed backward on his bed and stared up at the ceiling with a stupid, delighted grin.

  Grant returned a few minutes later with a warm washcloth for Jim. Jim lifted his shirt to wipe the dried cum off his stomach.

  “Thanks for the pillow.”

  “You’re welcome.” Grant cleared a space off the dresser and sat down. He watched Jim’s movements with a fond smile.

  “What?” Jim asked.

  “I’m going to need to borrow some pants.”

  Jim snorted. “You could have taken them off, man. I wouldn’t have known.”

  “I promised you.”

  Jim tossed the washcloth to the floor. “I’ll get you something.” He got up, searched through his closet, and pulled out a pair of jeans and a belt. “You need boxers too?”

  “Please.”

  Jim handed Grant all three items. He expected Grant to strip down in front of him, but perhaps out of consideration to Jim’s restrictions, Grant returned to the bathroom to change. Or maybe he was sensitive about his body. He was over fifty, after all. Jim saw all types of bodies. Grant didn’t have any reason to be embarrassed about his.

  Jim finished putting his clothes to rights and went out into the living room where Shannon sat with a bowl of popcorn in his lap and a bemused expression.

  “Shut up,” Jim said.

  “That was the kinkiest shit I’ve ever heard.”

  “You ignored the preemptive shut up?” Jim asked. “This means war.” He swiped the popcorn bowl. Making a run for his room, Shannon on his heels, he instead plowed into Grant. Shannon then bounced off Jim, and all three crashed together into the wall.

  “Ow,” Grant said mildly. He touched his head.

  Shannon bounced up. “I’m sorry. I’ll uh… get some ice for you.”

  “It’s fine, Shannon.”

  “No, it’s not. I’m so sorry. I mess up everything. Oh….” Shannon backed up, taking the now empty popcorn bowl from Jim’s hands. His feet smashed popcorn on the floor as he walked over it. “Excuse me.” Turning, he darted away, in the quickest movement Jim had ever seen him manage. Shannon closed his bedroom door behind him.

  “Is he okay?” Grant started for Shannon’s door, and Jim pulled him back.

  “Give him a minute.”

  Grant looked down at the mess. “Where’s the broom?”

  Jim grinned. “I’ll get it.” He went into the kitchen and pulled the broom and dustpan out of the pantry. Then he walked back and handed Grant the broom.

  “He’s protective of you.” Grant started sweeping the popcorn into a pile. Jim crouched down with the dustpan.

  “It’s mutual.”

  Grant lowered his voice. “Does he have anything to do with why you and I have the relationship we do?”

  Jim stared up at Grant, his expression carefully blank. “After a few minutes ago, I’m not sure what kind of relationship we have.”

  “I mean, why our arrangement started. You wanting to be hurt. The reasons you won’t tell me.”

  “No, I won’t,” Jim hissed. “Because they are none of your business.” He stood, even though they hadn’t finished with the mess, and backed away with the dustpan in his hand.

  “Jim, I’m sorry.” Grant took a step forward. “I respect if you don’t want to tell me. I want you to know that I’m here for you. Like… like you are for Shannon.”

  Jim turned away and tried to imagine that Grant had any idea what he was saying. “So you’d cut me down from a clothes bar? You’d spend a year with me while I didn’t leave my apartment? You’d get me a job where you worked so you could keep an eye on me? You’d arrange for me to get home every night?” He felt a flare of hatred for Grant’s kind, sure face. But when he faced him, Grant looked stunned.

  “I… I had no idea.”

  Jim swallowed, already regretting his outburst. “No, you don’t know how I’m here for Shannon. You don’t know what I’ve done to keep him… to keep us in this together. And I can’t… I can’t…. expect you to understand.” He couldn’t help it, his voice rose. He didn’t want Shannon to hear, but as Jim began to shake, Shannon’s door opened.

  “You idiot,” Shannon said.

  Jim turned and fell against Shannon, who briefly staggered under his
weight. He shifted and pressed his forehead to Shannon’s shoulder. Shannon rubbed his arched back.

  “I’m sorry. It slipped out.”

  “It’s not a secret,” Shannon said. “I talk about it now, and it’s okay if you do too.”

  “Do you want me to go?” Grant asked.

  “I thought he was only letting you whip him for the money,” Shannon said. “I had no idea—”

  “I let you down,” Jim mumbled.

  Shannon grasped Jim by his cheeks and lifted his head. Shannon’s hands still smelled like buttered popcorn. “You have never let me down.”

  “I’m going to go,” Grant said.

  Jim pulled Shannon’s hands off his face. He wiped his eyes and did his best to compose his expression before he turned to face Grant. He’d been happy a few minutes ago, and now, just as he’d feared, his secret was driving Grant away.

  “You don’t have to.” Somehow, he spoke without his voice wavering.

  Grant glanced from Jim to Shannon. “It looks like you guys need to talk.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  Grant nodded and quickly departed.

  “You think he’s going to fire me?” Jim asked.

  Shannon glanced at the door. “I don’t think you’re an employee to him anymore.”

  “So that’s a yes?”

  “I mean he likes you. True love has bloomed in this apartment today, and you had to ruin it by being an idiot.”

  “Yeah, that sounds like me. But hey, at least it wasn’t because I’m frigid this time.”

  Shannon rolled his eyes. “Yeah, instead it’s because we have a codependent relationship that you decided to deal with by getting yourself beaten on a weekly basis instead of, I don’t know, talking about it, and then spilling the beans in front of your boss boyfriend. Good job.”

  “You’re really confident. That support group is helping, huh?”

  “Don’t change the subject.” Shannon cuffed him. “We were talking about your boyfriend.”