Guarding January

by Sean Michael

  “I came.” Jeff couldn’t believe it.

  “You did. My belly is magical.”

  The words shattered the thoughts rushing through his mind, and he looked up. “Yes!”

  Chuckling softly, Rye brought their mouths back together. His lips felt swollen, full, tender from all the kisses.

  “Are you happy?” Rye asked him when the kiss was over.

  “I am. I’m nervous. Excited. Worried.”

  “About me?”

  “About everything. Nothing.” He didn’t know.

  “You don’t need to worry—that’s my job.”

  “Does it work that way for people?” Jeff pondered that. He let Rye worry about lots of things, without even considering it.

  “It can, if you set your mind to it.”

  “Next week is a break. Are we going to go home?”

  “We can go home. We can go somewhere nobody knows who we are. The world is your oyster. Or at least it should be.”

  “Where would you go?” He wanted to give something to Rye, something special.

  “If I could go anywhere?” Rye pondered that. “I think Iceland would be fascinating.”

  “Let’s go. I’ll call Donna.”

  Rye chuckled. “Just like that?”

  “Uh-huh. Just like that.”

  “Are you sure that’s where you want to go?” Rye looked into his eyes.

  “I want to give you a trip, a gift. I’m sure.”

  “Thank you, baby.” Rye kissed him again, quick and hard.

  Jeff didn’t want to be selfish, to be empty, not like January. Rye looked really pleased about it too.

  “A whole week without all—” Rye waved his hand in the air. “—this.”

  “A week just being… us.”

  “It sounds glorious.” Rye’s fingers moved on his skin beneath his shirt, swirling.

  He hoped so. For Rye’s sake.

  “You still want that swim?” Rye asked, fingers still moving, making his skin tingle.

  “Do you want…. Do you need to come? I’m not a bastard. I’m fair.”

  “I didn’t want to push, but yeah. I need to at least undo my jeans.”

  “I’ve seen you naked, Rye. I’ve slept with you. I’m not scared.” Not scared at all. Rye loved him. Him. Jeff.

  “Then, please….”

  Jeff reached down and opened Rye’s jeans, shoving them down and loving the way Rye felt against his palm.

  Groaning, Rye pushed against his hand.

  Jeff dragged his fingers down Rye’s thighs, pulling the jeans all the way. He ended up kneeling in front of Rye, mouth near the heavy cock, so he leaned in to inhale.

  “Oh damn. Baby….” Rye’s voice was thick, sounding strained.

  His tongue flicked out, dragged on Rye’s skin. This time Rye didn’t say anything; he just made this garbled, moaning sound. Oh, neat. He lapped his way up, intent on the fat, mushroom head.

  The muscles in Rye’s thighs went tight, another moan filling the air. Jeff made himself wait to actually taste the slit, but as soon as he did, it made him tingle.

  “Jeff. God. Please.”

  “I won’t make you hurt. I promise.”

  Rye snickered. “Oh, baby, you’re not hurting, trust me.”

  “Taste good.” He licked over and over, tasting.

  Groans and moans and whimpers came from Rye, those strong thighs trembling now, Rye’s hips beginning to rock gently. Jeff wrapped his lips around the tip, sucking nice and slow.

  “Jesus, that’s good.” Rye’s hands slid into his hair, tugging just a little bit.

  “Mmmhmm.” It was good, the pressure on his lips.

  Rye moved his hips, the thick cock sliding in Jeff’s mouth, leaving drops of liquid on his tongue. His eyes closed, and he pulled, keeping it gentle, soft, quiet. Rye’s fingers stroked through his hair, rubbed on his head. It was the easiest thing ever, to hum, to let the sound vibrate through Rye.

  “Jeff.” His name was choked out, Rye moving faster now, jerky, like he couldn’t help it.

  Jeff braced himself on Rye’s huge thighs, the heavy cock spreading his lips wide.

  “Don’t let me hurt you.”

  Rye wouldn’t. Jeff knew that.

  He sucked harder, slapping the fat shaft with his tongue. Rye jerked, pushing in deeper. He took Rye halfway, and he brought his hands in to play for the rest. Rye seemed to let go after that, sliding faster along his tongue, pushing harder into his mouth. Jeff’s jaw was beginning to ache, but he wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t.

  “Jeff.” His name was a whisper, and Rye’s cock throbbed just before it released his come.

  He swallowed some, and then the rest splashed on his face.

  Rye’s prick slid from his mouth, Rye dropping to his knees. “Thank you, baby.” Then Rye licked at his face, cleaning him. That was erotic as hell and made his spent cock bob.

  When he was done, Rye rested their foreheads together and smiled at him.

  “Better?”

  “Yeah. Things were getting a little tight in my jeans.”

  “You taste right. Clean.”

  “I am clean. I get tested every six months.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “No?”

  “No. I meant you taste… pure. Like something good.”

  “Oh.” Rye’s cheeks heated a touch, but he looked pleased. “Thanks.” Then Rye hugged him, hands sure and warm. “You still want to go swimming, or do you want to nap together?”

  “Nap?”

  “Sure, I’m easy.” Rye stripped the rest of their clothes off efficiently and tucked them both in bed under the covers.

  It felt different this time, cuddling against Rye’s body. It felt like this was his. Purely his. Rye held him close and kissed the top of his head.

  “Love, huh?”

  “Yeah, Jeff.” He got another kiss on his head. “I love you too.”

  “Oh, good.”

  “It is. And I’m not letting go.”

  The words were a comfort, following Jeff down into his dreams.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE TAXI let them out at the chalet that was theirs for a week. A whole week in this amazing country. Rye had been reading up on it ever since Jeff had said they were going. There was lots to see: hot springs and mountains, snow, auroras.

  He paid the driver and brought their bags in. The Hotel Borg overlooked a square, the art deco building lovely, charming, but swank.

  They checked in, and it amused Rye that Jeff could wander around unrecognized as long as he didn’t wear anything that was Januaryish.

  Jeff was in T-shirt and jeans, hair pulled back, no makeup, so he looked fresh, young.

  He looked sexy too.

  Of course, part of that might have been because they hadn’t done anything but literally sleep together since that one time. They’d been busy and tired, and it just hadn’t happened again.

  Rye hoped it did this week.

  They headed up into a decadent room: hard wood floors, a large bed, huge windows.

  “Wow. This is gorgeous.” Rye had been to all kinds of fancy hotels, and this was one of the nicer, if not the nicest.

  The hotels on the tour had all been okay, a couple even ritzy. Maybe it was because here they were on holiday, but this place was stunning.

  “Lots of windows.” Jeff closed one, staying to the shadows.

  “You should come into the light, baby. It loves your skin.”

  “If I get color, though….”

  He held his arms open, and Jeff came right to him. He wrapped Jeff in a hug. “I bet Janie has a makeup for that.” Janie was easily one of Rye’s favorite people. She was always cheery, always ready to cheer Jeff up. And she brought him food that he ate.

  Speaking of which…. “You hungry?”

  “No, love.”

  Rye’s lips tightened. He wasn’t sure, with the time changes and the flights, how long it had been, but it had been too fucking long.

 
; “I am, though. I’m going to order some stuff, okay?”

  “Sure.” Jeff nodded and settled on the bed, searching through a guide book.

  Rye perused the room service menu and called down, getting the veggie platter and a plate of fries. He’d never offered Jeff fries before. Fried potatoes—what was not to like?

  “We can look at whales.” Jeff sounded excited about the prospect.

  “Oh yeah? Like out on the ocean?”

  “That’s what it says here. There’s all sorts of things to see.”

  “I want to swim in one of the hot springs too. I think that would be really neat.”

  Jeff nodded and curled up around the pillows. “Are you glad we came?”

  “I am. It’s going to be fun, don’t you think?” Hell, simply being here with Jeff—only the two of them, no entourage, no groupies, no business, absolutely no January—just that was wonderful.

  The rest was icing on the cake.

  “It’s weird, to travel like this, without the drama.”

  “Good weird, though, yeah?” Rye climbed onto the bed, spooning up behind Jeff.

  “Yeah, it’s like… I went to rehab and everything shifted. Everything is different now.”

  “What was important changed,” he suggested. Before it had been all about the money, all about playing January for everyone—everyone but Jeff himself.

  “Something did. I was supposed to want to die, you know? That’s like, the end game, to kill yourself, but when my heart stopped, I wanted to live.”

  Rye hugged Jeff tight. “I’m glad. And I really think you need to pass the baton. January isn’t good for you.”

  “That’s all I am, though. That’s the money.”

  “First of all, I don’t believe that. Second of all, I bet you have a ton saved up.”

  “Probably. Donna handles that.”

  “And there’s your house, and I haven’t spent a dime of my salary. So you’ve got a lot of time to figure out what would work for you.”

  “Maybe. I’ll have to worry about it after the tour.”

  “I think you should tell Donna that it’s the last tour you’re doing. So it doesn’t come as a surprise to anyone.”

  “But what if…. What if I can’t? What if I…. Just shh.”

  Rye chuckled and leaned in to whisper in Jeff’s ear. “You can. You are amazing just as you are. And I’ll hush now, but you need to think about that.”

  “I’m just a shell. Something to be on stage.”

  “I’ve heard you, baby. It’s like magic when it’s just you, your guitar, and your own songs.”

  Jeff was really good, and Rye had to believe that with Donna’s contacts, he could get heard by someone who put out that kind of music.

  “Shh. No talking.” Jeff’s fingers were trembling against his lips.

  Rye licked at them, then pulled them into his mouth, sucking gently.

  Jeff’s eyes went wide, then slowly closed.

  Ah, distraction. Rye ran his tongue across the tips, then bit gently.

  “Toothy man.” Jeff chuckled for him.

  “Do you like it?” he asked around Jeff’s fingers before nibbling them some more.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Good.” He turned Jeff in his arms, still sucking on the slender fingers, and pulled the lovely body up against his.

  “Hungry man.” Jeff fit against him, curled in with a happy moan.

  “Hungry for you,” Rye agreed, dropping his hand down to cup Jeff’s ass. He didn’t know how long he had until room service came, but Jeff seemed to be happy to pet and play.

  Foreplay, food, more foreplay, and possibly more. It sounded like a great way to stave off jetlag. Then tomorrow they would play tourists together.

  He rubbed against Jeff, pleased to feel Jeff was responding. Sometimes his touches got nothing but happy sighs, but more and more, Jeff’s body was healing, learning to be eager for pleasure.

  And Rye could be patient. He hadn’t pushed for them to do more like this since that first time. Now, though, this week was for them.

  There was a discreet knock at the door, and he bit back his groan.

  “Your food, my giant.”

  “Yep.” He gave Jeff one last kiss, then called out, “Coming,” and headed to the door for their food. At least he hoped he was going to get some of the veggies and fries into his far-too-skinny lover.

  His lover.

  Yeah, that’s what Jeff was. Even if they’d had one orgasm each together—what they had was way deeper than just sex. There wasn’t any other man he could say that about.

  Rye answered the door and signed for the food, pulling the table into the room himself. Jeff was on the bed, watching him. He loved how Jeff looked at him, stared at him.

  Smiling, he wheeled the table right over to the bed. “I bought fries for us to share. They’ve got a couple neat dipping sauces with them.” Lifting the lids off the two plates—one veggies, one steaming french-fried potatoes—he made a “tada!” motion.

  “You didn’t get you a steak?”

  He was pleased to see Jeff reach out and steal a fry. “Nope. I figure I’m going to wait until we stop at a restaurant where they’ll do it right.” He hadn’t found hotel steak to be terribly exciting.

  “I bet you’ll find lots of fish here. Do you like fish?”

  “I do. What about you? I know you don’t eat meat—are you a vegetarian, a full-out vegan?” Rye had always been happy to get anything into Jeff. He supposed he’d been feeding Jeff stuff that vegans wouldn’t eat.

  “I like cheese. I just… after all the blood from work… there’s no way I can eat meat.”

  “Ah.” He nodded and dipped a fry in something mayonnaisey, handing it over. “I get that.”

  Jeff touched his tongue to the sauce, then nodded. “That’s okay.”

  “Then eat. I love french fries, though a nice baked potato is even better.” Rye dipped a fry into something ketchupy and popped it in his mouth. Oh, salty and hot and yum.

  “I like those okay, sometimes.”

  “So it’s a sometime, have a few.”

  Jeff chuckled but took another fry, then a bite of cauliflower.

  They ate, and Rye was pleased, because Jeff did a lot better than he could have hoped, having a bunch of fries and even more vegetables.

  He finished up when Jeff begged off, his lover curled around a huge pillow. “You never did say if you ate fish or not.” Rye took the table back to the door and set it out in the hall.

  “I haven’t in a long time.”

  Well, that wasn’t a no.

  “Shrimp? Lobster? Crabs? You like the crawly-in-the-water things?”

  “No. No. Those are bugs.”

  “Delicious bugs.”

  “Uh-uh.” Okay, the nose-wrinkling was adorable.

  He kissed Jeff’s nose. “We’ll agree to disagree.” He liked seafood a lot.

  “I would pay for you to eat anything.”

  “But will you watch me eat bugs?”

  “I would. I wouldn’t eat them, but I would sit with you. Roach ate a testicle once.”

  Rye nearly spat out the carrot he’d been munching on. “What?”

  “Raw. It was gross, and he chewed a lot.”

  “Raw? Did he, like, rip it off someone and eat it in front of them?” He knew logically that wasn’t what had happened, but it was what popped into his head.

  “Not when I was watching. I think it belonged to a cow.”

  “That’s gross. I mean, even cooked it would have been gross.”

  “It was gross. Really gross.”

  “Yeah, can we talk about something else?”

  Jeff cracked up, curled into himself, and cackled like a big bird.

  “Nut job.” Rye rolled his eyes.

  “We’re evil, remember? Vampire lords.”

  “January might be evil, but Jeff isn’t.”

  “You don’t think so? We’re the same person.”

  “Bullshit.” He knew very w
ell that January and Jeff were polar opposites.

  “No? You’re not scared of me even a little? My mom was, a little.”

  “I’m not scared of you or January.” He didn’t like January, but that didn’t mean he was scared of the persona. “Is your mom still around?” Jeff never talked about family.

  Jeff nodded. “She hates me a little bit. I send money.”

  “Hates you?” Frowning, Rye moved to sit up against the headboard and tugged Jeff up into his arms.

  “Yeah. She’s religious. A lot. She says I’m going to hell.”

  “Ah. Is that because of January or because of being gay?”

  “I left home as soon as I graduated high school. I had long hair, I listened to loud music, I got tattoos.”

  “Yeah, I like all those things about you.”

  “Thank you. There aren’t many people that like me for just me. Some.”

  Rye imagined that was true of everyone. He hugged Jeff tight. “Do you have any other family?”

  “No. No, my father ran off when Mother was pregnant, and I was her only little bastard.” Jeff smiled at him. “How about you?”

  “I have a mother and a sister. They’re both a little out there, but I guess you could say we’re close. I only see them a couple times a year, usually.”

  “Do…. Do you want to…. I mean, you know you can go see them anytime. That would be good.”

  “They know I’m working.”

  “Still, if they love you—”

  “If you want to meet them, I’d be happy to take you to visit them.” His mother would love to mother Jeff, he’d bet.

  “They won’t like me. They won’t.”

  “Of course they will. I like you.”

  Jeff nodded but didn’t say anything else.

  “You’re a great guy, Jeff.”

  “I’m okay. I try.”

  “You just don’t have a lot of people in your life who are there for you as your own person.” Just him and Jim, Rye thought. They hadn’t been able to get in touch with Jim yet, though. Rye could think of a bunch of reasons why, and most of them were not good. Jeff had stopped asking, even.

  Rye hugged Jeff hard. He would protect this man from everything, anything. And not because he was paid to anymore. He needed Jeff—he needed the smile, the secret looks, the gentle touches. “So whales or hot springs tomorrow?”

  “Hot springs, I think. Something easy. We’ll be tired.”