“Oh God,” he rushed out, pushing a hand down between them to stop everything. “Wait.”
“Wait?” Reese’s fingers kept moving under his. He could feel them on the skin of his dick, micro movements that set off bursts of pleasure that shot through him like fireworks. His pelvis rocked forward, trying to pull away, but only succeeding in crushing his balls further beneath him. “Why?”
“Because,” he managed to grunt out while twisting his hands to attack Reese’s studded leather belt and the zipper that fought his efforts to wrestle it down. He looked up. So close, their faces were, that he could hardly focus on Reese’s eyes. “I don’t want it to be just me again.”
He reached into Reese’s underwear and pulled him out, the first time the dick in his hands wasn’t his own, and it felt peculiar and ordinary at the same time. Like the wildest drug high he’d ever experienced, rushing through his veins and blowing the top of his head off at the same time as his brain said, Ah ha, a dick, yes, rub it like that, no problem, we got this, and shrugged it off as the most ordinary thing in the world.
The entire moment was so hot he was pretty sure it’d be less than two minutes before he shot on his own stomach. He tried to block out the sensation of Reese’s hand on him, slipperier with the pre-come he’d gathered with his thumb and spread down the length of Tom’s dick. He mimicked the movement, feeling a strange surge of pride when Reese groaned at the drag of his thumb across the slit.
I did that. I made him so hard and wet. Made him moan out loud for me. He doesn’t let those other guys do this. He never lets them.
Those thoughts were heading down a road that led to trouble and him giving a shit about whether or not Reese was going to keep messing around with other guys, so it seemed like a good idea to cut that off. Tom focused on the dick in his hand and the tense thighs straddling his own and tried to make this good for Reese, this touching he was allowing when he never allowed the guys he brought home to do anything to him. So Tom held him in his hands and tried to show him that he knew how to take care, how to touch him with lust and passion and caution and awareness at the same time as he tried to do everything he could think of that made a guy’s dick wanna go off like a rocket.
Reese dragged one of Tom’s hands free from their laps and pulled it behind him, pressing the palm of Tom’s hand to Reese’s ass and holding it there. There wasn’t enough brain power left in Tom’s entire body to operate a mechanical pencil, but he could figure that one out. Without making any move to pull Reese closer to him or push him onto Tom’s dick, he grabbed his butt cheek hard, squeezing and stripping a grunt out of Reese with his fingers pressing into the tight denim-covered crack of his ass. He wanted to slide his hand down the back of Reese’s pants and palm the bare skin of his ass, slide his fingers deeper into his crack and press against his hole, but he didn’t want to make any mistakes now. Not when Reese was rocking and rasping breaths and biting back moans as his dick hardened one last unbelievable bit before he threw his head back and gasped.
“Ahhh, God! Fuck. Fuck.”
The sight of Reese coming, one hand clenched on Tom’s shoulder, the other still grasping his cock was enough to send him over the edge, stomach muscles tightening to the point of pain as he held himself in place, pleasure racing from his stomach to his ass to his balls, bursting in a sudden explosion of heat and pleasure that had him dropping his head back and locking all of his muscles as he came, trying not to thrust up and dump Reese off of his lap.
When the rushing in his ears, his pulse thundering, slowed to a rumble, he dropped his head forward and rested his forehead against Reese’s sweaty shoulder.
“Shit.”
He felt it, the second Reese stiffened on his lap, his spine shooting straight, his shoulders pulling back as he scrambled off Tom, wiping his hands on his thighs because they were both still half-dressed in jeans.
“Let me guess.” His words were so bitter Tom bet they curdled in his mouth. “You didn’t mean for it to go that far. You still want us to be friends.” Even his air quotes were sarcastic. “Well, fuck you, roomie.”
Tom shook his head and stayed on the chair, hands on his thighs, zipper open and his soft dick still hanging out of his pants.
“Pick a fight all you want, kid. Reese.” That wasn’t how they were going to do this. “But you’re doing it by yourself.”
“I heard you. You were still breathing hard when you started regretting this.”
“You hearing it doesn’t mean I said it.” He might have been unsure of himself the whole way through this mess of sex and friendship and freaking public declarations to the rest of the freaking house, but he wasn’t trying to bullshit his way out of it now. It was what it was. “I came after you, Reese. Came after you and brought you back here and I’m not the one standing halfway across the room.”
“So what, you’re gay now?”
He sighed. “I’m not gay.” He held a hand up before Reese could get rolling again. “I’m just, equal opportunity, I guess. And it’s not a new thing, okay? But it has been a long time. So if anyone’s gonna freak out about this, maybe it could be me and not you, all right?” He tried a smile.
Reese wasn’t ready to give up on fighting quite yet. He crossed his arms over his bare chest and shifted his weight to his heels.
“Are you freaking out?”
“I wasn’t, but if it’ll make you feel better, I can.” Reese turned his head, but not before Tom heard the breath huff out of him in a laugh he tried to cover up by stomping over to his closet for a towel. He lofted a second towel through the air to thwap against Tom’s chest, a sound that immediately brought him back to the night he’d cleaned himself up under a sheet after watching Reese blow that last kid in the bed barely ten feet from his. One of the hottest experiences of his life, before last weekend’s blowjob and tonight’s mutual rub off. He felt his dick try to stir but knew that was a no-go even as he brushed the towel roughly over himself. He judged it safe to move and stood up, stretching his arms high over his head until his back cracked as he arched to one side.
Reese’s eyes were locked on his chest, so he dragged the stretching out a little, twisting to the right and the left in smooth turns that showed off his abs and his chest, still cut enough to catch the eye. When he caught Reese staring after one blatantly show-offy stretch, he couldn’t hide his grin, running a hand over his own chest and giving himself a tiny shiver of response to the slow stroke.
“If I lie down, any chance you wanna lie down with me?” Two steps over to Reese’s bed, where he’d never once sat or lain before. But he figured that pushing that boundary now was probably a good thing.
Reese moved until he stood over Tom, staring down at him.
“You’re not freaking out.”
“No, I’m not.” Easier to show than tell he supposed. He shucked off his jeans and his shorts, kicking them off the end of the mattress.
Reese’s eyes widened at his suddenly naked state.
“You wanted that.”
“I came to get you for that.” He scratched his belly idly with one hand, listening to himself, and decided to rephrase that. “Actually, I didn’t think it’d get anything like that far, but yeah, I wanted that.” He scooched over until his shoulder was pressed against the wall. “I wanted that like I couldn’t breathe without it. That’s why I came back.”
His roommate, now maybe lover, sat gingerly on the edge of the mattress, ready to bolt.
“But you’ll leave again.” A statement, not a question.
“Yeah.” He wasn’t sugarcoating the desire, he wouldn’t do that to the conflict. “Not tonight, but probably tomorrow, yeah. I’ll have to go.”
“To Boston.”
Reese’s hand on his chest, so light it was hardly more pressure than a small bird fluttering there. But touching him. Still.
“That’s right.”
“And y
ou’ll come back Sunday night.”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
Reese left his jeans on and Tom didn’t make a move toward them. Toward Reese at all. He let the smaller man swing his legs up on the skinny bed and find a spot next to him, hoping Reese would end up touching him but not pushing for anything other than this, lying here with a half-naked boy he wanted lying next to him.
Holding himself still was tiring, though, as Reese twisted and turned and tried to find a way to share the twin bed with Tom without feeling trapped by his larger body. Eventually Tom closed his eyes and waited it out, every muscle in his body twitching each time Reese pressed up against his naked skin. He’d have sworn he was awake for every torturous moment, but when he jerked away with a start, it was obvious he’d been napping for a while. Long enough for his roommate to get comfortable with the situation.
Reese was sprawled on his chest, sweaty skin sticking to Tom’s where he pressed against the length of Tom’s left side, his head resting on Tom’s biceps.
He must have felt Tom twitch because his eyes were locked on Tom’s when Tom pried his own lids open to suss out their respective positions.
“God, you’re hot.” Reese was half-teasing, half not. He could tell by the grin overpowered by the stare. “Your muscles are so fucking hard. I wish—”
“What?”
The pause while he waited for Reese to finish his sentence lasted long enough for Tom to worry that he’d managed to remind Reese of He Who Shall Not Be Named after all. Fuck.
“It’s just, there are things I miss, you know? Things I can’t do anymore.”
“Can’t, because…”
Reese’s voice was matter of fact.
“Because having a weeping panic attack is generally considered a turn-off in bed.”
Tom turned his head and pressed his lips to the top of Reese’s sweaty head, wanting to wrap his arms around him and hang on but knowing that wouldn’t help.
After a minute, Reese started talking again, tracing a finger along the muscles of Tom’s chest, which would have gotten things going again if Tom hadn’t just come his brains out all over Reese’s stomach.
“I used to like different things, you know? Than the stuff I do now.” Tom felt Reese’s head move against his arm as he looked up, checking Tom’s reaction. He took a slow breath and kept his eyes on the ceiling. Not the best time for a safety lecture, no doubt. “I told you, that night. But it wasn’t just…getting fucked. It was feeling wrapped up in someone, surrounded by them. It used to make me feel, I don’t know. Safe.”
“And now it—”
“Makes me pretty sure I’m having a heart attack and I’m going to die.” Reese’s laugh was short and soft. “Not really fun for the person next to me.”
“Roll over.”
Tom wanted to try something.
“What?”
“Roll over. On your side.”
“Why?”
“Just try it.”
Reese slid off him and curled up on his side, head resting on Tom’s arm. His shoulders were hunched in as he pulled his knees up and huddled next to Tom. The bumps of his vertebrae were highlighted by the street light spilling in the window, a delicate chain curving down to his butt.
Tom kept his hands back as he curled onto his side, right behind Reese. The heat radiating off Reese’s body warmed his stomach, his thighs, his shins. He tucked himself in like…
“Pretend you’re sitting on me. Like a chair.”
The goofiness of the image actually made Reese huff a short laugh. His spine lost a little of its intense hunch toward his knees. After a moment, he scooched back an inch until they were pressed together from shoulder to ankle, exactly as if Tom were his own personal armchair.
Tom rested his arm along his own hip and held still. He’d hoped that by having nothing on him or around him, with the open space of their room in front of him, Reese might be able to tolerate the feel of him, might let him recreate that feeling of safety and being surrounded in a way that didn’t cause fear.
When Reese reached back and grabbed his hand, Tom stopped breathing.
He pulled Tom’s hand forward and put it on his hip. Then let go and curled his own hands together in front of his chest again.
“Don’t move, okay?”
The pillow was wet under his temples. He didn’t move his hand to wipe his eyes. Tom stared at the dark head in front of him, wondering how this kid was so much braver than he would ever be.
“Okay,” he said. And held still until he fell asleep again.
Chapter Ten
Crawling out of bed before dawn to hit the road was way harder when there was a warm body next to his, even if that warm body was kneeing him in the kidneys and burrowing a forehead into his spine. But he got up because even the possibility of morning sex couldn’t drown out the voice shouting in the back of his head that said he’d already lost almost eighteen hours on the clock. And there was no guarantee he’d get another cab this weekend after pissing off dispatch by dropping his car off halfway into the shift. So, warm body sharing the bed or no, it was time to head out.
Tom ruffled his fingers through Reese’s hair and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his bare shoulder as Reese reached out in his sleep and claimed the freed up space in the twin bed.
At least he wouldn’t have any problem staying awake tonight. There was absolutely no chance he’d be able to stop himself from obsessively replaying every moment of their half-naked grinding chair sex over and over every moment he wasn’t actually driving the cab.
Shit. He’d be lucky if he could stop himself doing it long enough to get his fares safely from Point A to Point B. For once, he’d probably find himself hoping for dead time between trips, minutes to let his mind wander.
But his late night waits for fares outside of hotels and bars were transformed from dead time into playtime when his phone rang with the twanging strains of country and he swiped it on to hear Reese’s voice drilling right into his head via his earpiece.
“Hey roomie. Anyone with you?”
“Nah. I’m waiting for a…friend who needed a ride to Logan at midnight.” It was eleven forty-five and Tom was scheduled to pick up a fare at the Ritz Carlton who was heading to the airport. Not yet time for the bar crowd to start heading home, so he was gonna squeeze in this one last fare to Logan and hope to get lucky so he wasn’t deadheading it back into the city with an empty back seat.
“So you got fifteen minutes before he comes down, right?”
“Probably.” He wiggled his butt deeper into the seat and leaned his head back, willing to let fifteen minutes of chatter with Reese distract him from the irritating idleness of waiting. And the obsessive sex replays.
“If I tell you how much I wanna suck your dick again, in extreme detail, think I can get you off before he gets there?”
Tom sat up straight, jeans instantly tight in the crotch as his penis swelled, half-hard in an instant at Reese’s cheerful question.
“Holy shit.” He dropped his hand to his lap reflexively and squeezed the rough fabric over his dick. The newly healing skin on his hand stretched tight as his grip flexed.
“Let’s give it the old college try, shall we?”
It was like talking to an Oxford don on crack. Porn crack.
“Because last night was hot, no question, but the next time I pull your zipper down? It’s going to be with my teeth. You’re gonna feel my breath, all nice and hot on your dick, because I’m gonna lick you through your shorts for a while, and smell you, get my nose right in there, until everything is all wet and I can practically see the head of your dick outlined against the fabric.”
And because Reese was a genius, a genuine mad scientist genius, at torture sex, he dragged his description of sucking Tom’s cock out so long that he’d just sucked the head into his mouth, verbally
speaking, when Tom’s fare jiggled the handle and rapped on the rear window to get him to unlock the door.
Reese’s chipper “Call me later!” had Tom groaning in frustration and actual pain, his dick an iron bar in his pants as he cranked the key in the ignition and tried to remember how to drive.
For once he cursed the taxi karma gods that rained down fares on him one after the other that night. Every time a fare swiped a credit card or passed him cash, his hand was already stroking his phone, calling Reese. And every time, before he could cruise down the block or around a corner, one hand on the wheel, one hand in his lap, squeezing his dick, he’d spot another fare. He was tempted to flip his roof light off every damn time and slide by until he could park deep in the shadows of a residential side street somewhere and fucking get off with Reese’s voice slicking its way through the ether into his ear. But the thought of his looming second semester tuition bill, like a giant boulder braced from tumbling downhill and crushing all in its path by one small protrusion, a tiny little bump he built one fare at a time. But it always needed shoring up, the danger forever rocking just over his head.
So he picked up every fare and even pissed off another cabbie, slicing across two lanes and catching the tail end of a yellow light to scoop a rare late night fare in Dorchester. And every time the back door chunked closed after he got paid, his hands grabbed the phone and called Reese, who talked him hard again in seconds.
Until it was practically dawn and the phone rang and rang and he knew that Reese had finally fallen asleep, leaving him riding the edge of this curling wave of desire that threatened to suck him under and never let him go.
Even jerking off in his backseat, wrapped up in a blanket and spilling hard into yesterday’s T-shirt didn’t do more than take the edge off the need that had ripped through him every time the phone buzzed and Reese’s voice had whispered low in his ear.
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