by Roan Parrish
“No, I—”
“What do you think of m-me, then? Am I weak because I c-can’t t-talk to p-people?”
“No! Simon, no. I—Fuck, I’m sorry. You’re right. Bad choice of words.”
“It’s not a choice of words, though,” he said, cheeks flushed. “It’s how you think. B-being strong means being able to d-do everything easily and by yourself and anything else means b-being weak. Right?”
Jack frowned. That was how he’d always thought of things for himself. But he didn’t think that way about other people. Did he?
“I...no, I...”
“And if you think it about yourself but not about me then wh-what makes you so damn special?” Simon went on. “Why do you g-get to be different?”
Simon’s eyes blazed and Jack could see the anger there. Somehow, it shocked him. Had Simon’s shyness made Jack think he couldn’t get angry?
Jack hung his head.
“I’m not special,” he said. “I’m just...used to being able to do things for myself. By myself. I don’t like being helpless. It’s frustrating and...”
Frustrating isn’t all, though, is it? a sneaky voice whispered. The last time you felt helpless was when Mom and Dad died and there was nothing you could do about it. You couldn’t change what happened to them and you couldn’t even help Charlie. He did everything for you and you just let him.
Simon didn’t answer, but his silence spoke as loudly as his words. After a minute, he said, “There’s more than one way to be strong, Jack.”
* * *
It’s Ed’s birthday, did you forget??? Are you coming???
The text from Vanessa was waiting for Jack when he got out of the shower. Fuck. He had forgotten.
He groaned. He was utterly physically exhausted from the walk this morning and spiritually exhausted from his argument with Simon. He felt like he’d deeply disappointed Simon and it had left a sick feeling of shame in his stomach.
The idea of sitting in a bar with Vanessa, Ed, and Sarah sounded terrible. Everything sounded terrible.
I don’t think I can, Van, he wrote. I can’t drive and I’m really tired.
She wrote back instantly. Dude. Are you pissed at us? Cuz you’ve been more of a dick than usual lately.
He sighed. He wasn’t sure what he was. He wasn’t sure why an outing he would have looked forward to a year ago had lost all its appeal.
No way, he wrote. He didn’t have the heart to let Van believe he was upset with her to get out of going. Just kind of stuck here. And, you know, broken.
I’ll pick you up! Van offered, which he should have predicted. Seriously, Ed really misses you and it’s his damn birthday. Don’t be a fuckhead. I’ll come by around 7.
At that Jack smiled slightly. “Don’t be a fuckhead” had been the Vanessa Carlson catchphrase since high school, and woe betide those who didn’t heed it.
OK, Jack wrote, already dreading it.
* * *
True to her word, Vanessa’s headlights cut through the dark at seven on the dot. She greeted the dogs enthusiastically, hissed at the cats companionably, then said, “You look like shit.”
“Always a pleasure, V.”
“No, I mean you look...” She cocked her head and looked up at him consideringly. “Sad.”
Jack gestured to his leg and his crutches and shrugged. “Sucks.”
Her narrowed eyes said she knew he wasn’t telling the whole truth, but she let it go, gave Bernard one last kiss on his huge head, and they left.
* * *
“His bed frame was made of antlers!”
Sarah gestured wildly enough that a frothy plug of beer slugged out of her bottle and streamed down her hand. She licked it off.
“He opened the door and it was like fucking Hannibal in there. And I was like ‘Hell no, dude, I am not screwing you on that throne of death.’ Like, how is it comforting to bring someone back to your house and basically say, ‘Hey, I kill things bigger than you on the regular with no problem. Wanna bone?’” She paused, outrage turning to giggles. “Ha ha, bone, get it?”
Jack snorted. He was pleasantly buzzed and enjoying hearing Sarah and Ed trade dating horror stories and wondering why he’d avoided his friends for so long. As always, Sarah won because it was clear that men were horrible. Vanessa’s expression suggested that she was extremely glad she already had Rachel and didn’t have to suffer any of this.
“What about you, J?” Sarah said. “Any recent dating disasters to share?”
Ed feigned a thoughtful look and stroked his chin. “I don’t believe it’s called dating when you screw people in your truck outside of bars, is it?”
Everyone laughed and Jack rolled his eyes.
“Nah, no disasters.”
Jack wasn’t sure why he didn’t want to tell his friends about Simon. There was a time when he’d have been just as eager to share as Sarah. But now...since Davis...there was a part of him that just couldn’t trust them. A part of him that was newly aware that once he told someone something he couldn’t know what would be done with his confession. Anything could happen as a result of his words. It felt like chaos and risk and...helplessness.
And then there was the way that Simon was one million miles away from the dudes he’d fucked and never seen again and he wouldn’t even know how to tell his friends what made up that distance. Simon’s strong chin and downcast eyes. His trembling lip and the way he’d glared at Jack when he told him off in the woods. His bravery and his sweetness and how he grabbed Jack so tight when they kissed, as if he refused to allow a single inch to separate them.
There was the way that Simon was one million miles away from anyone he’d ever known and how for now, he thrilled at knowing Simon was just his.
Chapter Nine
Simon
When Simon got to Jack’s for the evening walk, Jack was outside chopping wood while leaning on one crutch. Splinters flew and Jack’s back and shoulder muscles flexed beneath his sweat-soaked T-shirt. His biceps bulged. Simon’s mouth watered.
“Hey!” Jack called after letting the axe bite into the stump he was chopping on.
Simon swallowed. As he drew even with Jack the smell of fresh cut wood mixed with clean sweat. Simon wanted to press his nose to Jack’s neck and breathe it all in.
He realized he was staring when a lazy, self-satisfied smile slid onto Jack’s face.
“See something you like?” he drawled.
Simon’s face heated and he said, “Maybe.”
Jack raised an eyebrow.
“Well, maybe you wanna stick around a while after your walk...”
“Okay, yeah, sure, okay,” Simon garbled, and he shot Jack a glare for flustering him. Jack just smiled.
* * *
It was dark when he got back with the pack. They settled themselves around the fire and Simon stood in the middle of the living room.
Since he and Jack had begun whatever this was, Simon felt like his body had come alive. It wasn’t just the pleasure of when Jack stroked him off—although that was sublime. It was that he’d discovered a new language. A language that didn’t depend on his ability to speak.
He felt like a whole new world had opened up to him. If he wanted to give comfort, he could put a hand on Jack’s thigh. If he got scared or uncertain, he could press his forehead to Jack’s shoulder and know that Jack’s arms would come around him. When he wanted a kiss, he could lift his face and receive one.
It was so simple. In fact, it was the reason he’d always loved animals. A pat, a lick, a nuzzle spoke volumes. But the ability to communicate with another person this way felt like it had changed everything.
Now, when Jack came up behind him from the kitchen, Simon only had to let his weight tip backward slightly to rest against Jack’s chest and Jack nuzzled his hair and wrapped his arms around Simon’s stomach, crutches
hanging off his wrists.
The scent of Jack’s shampoo and soap enveloped him as surely as Jack’s sweatshirt-covered arms and he relaxed into Jack’s embrace.
“Walk okay?” Jack asked, nosing his ear.
Simon nodded and tipped his head to the side. Jack pressed a soft kiss behind his ear that made him shiver. Feeling brave, Simon pressed his hips backward and felt Jack’s cock start to harden.
“Mmm. Wanna go make out?” Jack said lightly, but when Simon turned to look at him his eyes were hot.
They made their way to Jack’s room, closing the door quickly behind them to avoid canine or feline company.
Jack pressed Simon to the door, tipped his chin back, and kissed him. Simon melted into him and kissed him back. The image of Jack from earlier, muscles straining with effort, came back to him, only this time he imagined Jack’s hips pulsing, his neck cording with pleasure as—
Simon groaned and dropped his head to Jack’s shoulder.
“Y’okay, darlin’?”
Simon nodded.
Earlier, Simon’s medication had made his thigh muscles twitch. Sometimes the twitches moved from there to the muscles of his ass. He hadn’t told Jack this, worried it would be a turn-off. Because what he wanted—what he really wanted...
“I—I...” Jack slid his hand inside Simon’s shirt and ran a hand up his spine, half soothing, half arousing. “I want, um...”
“Yeah?” Jack’s voice dropped an octave, as if he knew what Simon was going to say.
Simon’s face burned. He grabbed Jack’s ass and pulled their hips together.
“Oh, shit,” Jack gasped as their erections ground together. He kissed Simon again. Then he grabbed him and started to lift him to the bed, remembered about his leg, and roared in frustration. “Dammit, I wanna throw you on that bed,” he growled, sounding so brutish and so pouty at the same time that Simon laughed.
“I want you to fuck me,” he said, and this time the words came out just fine.
Jack was on him so fast it was like his leg had miraculously healed.
“Yeah?”
“If you want?” Simon teased.
Jack’s grin turned hungry and his pupils blew.
“I want very much,” he said, voice so low that it rumbled through Simon’s chest.
They kissed until they were straining together, hands everywhere, losing clothing as it got in the way. When they were both naked, Simon took in the man lying next to him. Jack was strong and vigorous, every muscle engaged. There were freckles on his shoulders that Simon hadn’t seen before. His broad chest and thick thighs were dusted with hair a shade darker than the copper on his head. The hair between his legs was even darker, and his erection was as impressively vigorous as the rest of him.
He was so gorgeous that Simon couldn’t believe he was allowed to touch him. In wonder, he ran one finger from Jack’s belly button down to his cock and watched the muscles in Jack’s stomach and thighs bunch. He continued, tracing his finger along the silken skin of Jack’s erection. Jack was breathing heavily, but made no move to stop him.
He circled the tip of Jack’s cock, gathering the moisture there, and brought his finger to his mouth. The taste exploded on his tongue, musky and salty, and Jack groaned, then drew him down into a slow, hot kiss, tasting himself.
Lying side by side they had easy access to each other’s bodies and as they kissed they got tangled up together, stroking, squeezing, thrusting. Every inch of Simon’s skin pulsed with a hot awareness. He threw his leg over Jack’s hip to press them closer together. Jack palmed his ass, squeezing, then stroking, then tracing between his cheeks. When Jack’s fingers found his hole and rubbed the sensitive skin there, Simon shuddered.
Jack pressed a kiss to his cheekbone and pulled his leg higher, exposing him to questing fingers. Slowly, so slowly, Jack stirred his nerve endings to arousal, stroking, tapping, pressing just a little. All the while, he kissed Simon, tongue hot and claiming.
“Wanna taste you,” Jack said, and Simon didn’t understand because they’d practically been consuming one another’s mouths for what felt like hours. “But I need you to come up here,” Jack said when Simon didn’t move. Jack rubbed at his hole and realization dawned. Simon dissolved into a blush of lust at the idea.
“Oh god,” he muttered, and Jack arranged him so he was on his hands and knees, facing away.
Jack’s rough hands were hot as he dragged Simon’s ass toward his face then spread him apart. Simon’s face burned—arousal, embarrassment, each driving the other higher. When Jack licked him Simon’s hips jerked at the slick curling heat. Then Jack began to feast on him.
“Oh my god!” Simon’s thighs shook and his hips thrust into the air.
“Mmmm,” Jack said, clearly enjoying the reaction.
Simon let his arms collapse and pressed his head to the mattress between Jack’s legs. He couldn’t concentrate on holding himself up and on the exquisite sensation of Jack’s hot, slick tongue teasing into him. The change in position tipped his ass up and Jack groaned, grasping his hips and sliding the tip of his tongue into Simon’s trembling hole.
Simon panted and babbled things he couldn’t keep track of. He was dissolving slowly, tendrils of hot pleasure crawling through him with every stroke of Jack’s tongue.
“Jack, Jack,” he realized he was saying.
“You wanna come like this, baby?”
Simon didn’t know. Simon didn’t know anything. He didn’t want to know anything. He wanted Jack to decide. He buried his face in Jack’s leg.
“Okay, I got you.”
Then Simon was consumed, taken apart. Mouth sucking, tongue thrusting inside him, fingers pinching his nipples, and finally, finally, a rough hand cupping his balls and then stroking the underside of his straining cock and he was gone, waves of pleasure rolling through him and exploding as he choked on his own cries.
He came so hard he saw black spots and when the deluge had passed, he found himself with his clenching ass resting on Jack’s stomach and his face pressed tight to Jack’s thigh. Jack was stroking his back.
“Ungh,” Simon tried. He found himself pulled up and suddenly he was face-to-face with Jack again. Jack’s eyes were dark with lust and his gaze consumed Simon.
“You are so outrageously hot,” Jack said.
“Ungh?” Simon tried again.
“Yup.”
Clearly his mouth wasn’t functioning to make words at the moment, so Simon used it to kiss Jack as deeply as he could, to communicate to him how gorgeously he’d made him come, and how he would do anything Jack wanted to make him feel as good.
Jack groaned into his mouth and pulled him to straddle his lap, then his fingers went right back to Simon’s ass. This time, they were slick. Jack slid one inside him and little tingles shot through Simon.
He panted, cock starting to go hard again.
“That okay?” Jack murmured, eyes fixed on Simon.
Simon nodded so fast he practically gave himself whiplash and Jack smiled.
“Fuck, I want to finger you until you lose it all over me.”
Simon gasped. Jack had no qualms about saying exactly what he wanted and seemingly no self-consciousness either. It hit Simon with a dark wave of lust. This was right. This was what he wanted. He wanted Jack to talk forever.
“I want to look at your gorgeous fucking face and just slide inside you.” He slid a second finger inside Simon and curled his fingers.
Something white-hot crackled through Simon and he jumped. Jack groaned helplessly.
“God, Simon.”
Simon blinked and braced his hands on Jack’s shoulders. Jack did it again, stroked inside him with unerring fingers that had Simon writhing. He pressed himself deeper onto Jack’s fingers, desperate to see what it felt like to be filled by him.
“More?”
Si
mon nodded and Jack pressed another finger inside him. For a moment it was uncomfortable, then his muscles relaxed and it was gorgeous. Before he knew what he was doing, Simon found himself moving on Jack’s fingers, rotating his hips and trying to feel him everywhere.
“You’re—God, fuck.” Jack looked at him in wonder, spouting pure filth about Simon’s ass and Simon’s cock and Simon fucking loved it. When Jack looked at him like that he felt a sense of power like nothing he’d ever experienced. “Yeah, fuck yourself on my fingers,” Jack said.
Simon felt the pleasure gathering in his balls, and he clenched around Jack’s fingers, chasing the perfect combination of friction, angle, fullness. Jack was looking at him like he was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen and Simon was drunk on all of it.
Jack curled his fingertips as Simon sank down and the orgasm ripped through him, deeper than any he’d ever felt. His cock exploded onto Jack’s stomach and Jack stirred the fingers inside him, drawing out his pleasure.
Simon collapsed on Jack’s chest. He felt lightheaded and drained and so good he thought he might cry. He pressed kisses to every bit of Jack he could reach and Jack slid his fingers out gently and tangled the other hand in his hair.
“You’re gonna kill me,” Jack said tenderly. “Hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen, Jesus.”
An unfamiliar sense of pride bloomed in Simon’s chest. He kissed Jack’s neck and Jack settled him more firmly against him.
“You done, baby?” Jack said, stroking his scalp.
Simon could feel Jack’s erection, hot and hard and straining, so he was definitely not done. He shook his head and reached back to stroke Jack’s cock. One touch and Jack’s whole body convulsed. He groaned into Simon’s hair.
“You don’t have to—” Simon cut him off by putting Jack’s cock at his entrance and pressing down. “God, fuck, Simon, wait, Christ!”
Jack shuddered and Simon reveled in his power.
Jack cupped his face.