Friday Night Jamie

by Bren Christopher

  “No, of course she knows I’m gay.” I took a deep breath and stared at my eggs. “That’s the only reason my parents finally let her take custody of me, even though they never really wanted—” I stopped, the echo of old rejection coming back as a knot in my stomach, unexpectedly strong even after all this time.

  “What do you mean?” he asked quietly. He already knew I had a hard time talking about my family.

  I fiddled with my fork. “She had been asking my mom and dad to let her take me for years. She knew that the way they were raising me wasn’t… Well, it just wasn’t good for a kid. But they would never let me go. Then one day, when I was thirteen, my dad caught me in the loft of the abandoned barn where we were staying. I was with a neighbor boy.” I smiled at the memory. Maybe not everything in my childhood was bad. “He was so cute, and he liked me. Of course, after my dad went ballistic on us, I never saw the boy again.”

  Staring down at my plate, I relived that awful day in the barn. In retrospect, it was the best thing that could have happened, as it led to my chance at a normal life. But it sure hadn’t felt like it at the time. “Anyway, after the boy ran off, my dad beat the crap out of me and then never looked at me again. It wasn’t too long afterward that Grandma talked to my mom again, and they agreed to send me away. I haven’t spoken to my dad since that day in the barn.” I grimaced. “Not much like your dad, I guess.”

  “Do you ever talk to your mom?”

  “Sometimes. I gave her a cell phone a couple of years ago, and I keep up with the bill. She calls me every month or two, but I don’t think my dad knows about it.”

  He let out a breath and reached out to stroke my hand. His fingers felt warm and soothing. I looked at him, a little dazed. “How do you do that?”

  “Do what?” He leaned in and moved his hand up to stroke my cheek, looking me in the eyes. “I’m so sorry to hear about how your dad acted. It’s his loss, not to know the great guy you’ve become.”

  I couldn’t think with that hand stroking my face. All my tension flowed out, and my brain turned to mush. Didn’t he know the effect his touch had on me?

  He moved away, and I was able to put thoughts into coherent words again. “Well, if I turned out okay, it’s thanks to my grandma. Once I got settled into school, I was able to take some remedial courses and catch up with the rest of my class. She didn’t have the money to pay for college, but she helped me out when she could, and she always encouraged me to finish my degree. I wish I could do more for her.”

  “Maybe you could start by taking her a handsome young visitor?” he suggested hopefully.

  I snorted. “Don’t have much of an ego, do you?” But I was smiling. “Well, since you’re driving, I guess it’s okay. That gives us some extra time before we have to leave, anyway. Don’t blame me if you’re bored silly, though. The home isn’t the most exciting place, unless one of the residents gets her pudding stolen. Then there’s hell to pay.”

  We ate in silence for a moment. I took a sip of my coffee and noticed him watching my throat as I swallowed. I put my cup down, tilted my head a little to the side, and licked a drop off my lower lip, not looking directly at him. But I heard the little indrawn breath, and I reached for my fork to spear a piece of pancake. I ate it slowly, and then just as slowly licked off the syrup, doing a thorough job, running my tongue up one side of the tines and down the other.

  I heard a choked, “Jamie…” but I still didn’t look at him. Instead, I concentrated on getting every last drop off the fork.

  “Mmmm, I just love syrup, don’t you? Real maple syrup, not that fake kind…”

  Suddenly, a strong hand twisted in my hair, pulling my head to the side and exposing my throat. Matt bit me hard at the junction of neck and shoulder, and it went straight to my groin, flooding me with warmth and making me dizzy with the fastest erection I had ever experienced.

  Breathing hard, he growled, “You’re a teasing little shit, aren’t you?” He bit me again, then licked the bite mark and kissed his way up my neck. My head was thrown back, giving him as much room to work as possible, but I could barely breathe. He pulled me to my feet, his hand still twisted in my hair, and practically dragged me to the living room. “You’re going to pay for that. You’re going to use that talented tongue and those pretty, pretty lips on something bigger than a damned fork.” He stopped, turned to face me, and said, “Get your clothes off. Everything. I want you naked.”

  Feeling incredibly eager, I practically tripped over my own pants as I kicked off my shoes. Then I took a deep breath and forced myself to slow down. I could tell Matt was a very visual person and that he loved to look at me. So instead of stripping as quickly as possible, I slowly ran my hands up my abdomen, pulling up my shirt. I stopped to play with my nipple ring, tugging at it gently. Then I finished pulling my shirt off and threw it aside. Putting one finger in my mouth, I wet it slowly and then stroked my belly, looking down at myself. I heard a little whimpering noise come from Matt. “Oh, baby, you are so…”

  I took a quick look at him. Still fully dressed, he had one hand on the bulge at the front of his pants, squeezing and stroking. I wanted so badly to tear those pants off and swallow him whole. Instead, I kicked my shoes off, then faced him and slowly unbuttoned my jeans. Pulling my cock out, I ran my hand up and down my length, stopping to fondle my own balls. He was staring, his face flushed, and I realized I had to pick up the pace, or he wasn’t going to last, and I really, really, wanted to taste him.

  I turned my back on him to pull my jeans and boxers down slowly, bending over to give him a good view of my ass. As soon as I kicked everything off, I heard a groan, and the hand was back in my hair, twisting and keeping me bent over while the other hand slapped my ass lightly. I groaned and bucked back, and he took that as an invitation to spank me a little harder. Which it was. His hand smacked each side of my butt hard a few more times, and the stinging sensation went straight to my cock, drawing the blood in and making me even more sensitive and needy. He growled, in that low, sexy voice that drove me crazy, “Maybe that will teach you to flaunt that gorgeous ass. It’s just begging to be smacked.”

  I whimpered, so turned on I thought I could come without even being touched. The hand in my hair pushed me down to my knees, and my face was shoved into that huge bulge. I bit him through the denim, and he ground against me. Then he moved my head back and slowly unzipped. His beautiful pulsing cock slipped out of his pants right in front of my face. “Now suck it, baby. Suck it hard.”

  I eagerly swallowed it down, as much as I could take, until my chin hit his balls. I hummed a little, knowing the vibration would drive him crazy. I pulled back and sneaked a look up at him. He watched me closely as he used his grip on my hair to slowly fuck my mouth. “Oh God, that’s a beautiful sight. You have no idea how gorgeous you are like this.”

  I moaned and gripped those strong, thrusting thighs as I concentrated on sucking, moving my tongue around the head, and stroking the underside. His apparent delight in watching me, and the way he held nothing back in letting me know how turned on he felt, thrilled me like nothing I had ever experienced. His passion made me want to give him the greatest pleasure I could manage, just so I could see that look of ecstasy on his face.

  I tried to hold back; tried to make it last so that his orgasm would be even more intense by the time he finally came. I started to withdraw my mouth and go for his balls again, but his strong grip in my hair did not leave that as an option. Giving in to the pressure of his hand against the back of my head, I sucked in as much of him as I could handle as I fondled his balls, squeezing them gently and then running a finger behind them to lightly stroke his perineum.

  I tasted the salty precum and felt his balls draw up tight. I knew it wouldn’t be long. Then those thighs stopped moving as his whole body stiffened, and he cried out, shooting warm fluid into my mouth. I swallowed eagerly, savoring the unique, musky taste and smell of my Matthew.

  He collapsed to his knees and pushed me down t
o the floor on my back, his hands holding me down, one on my chest and one on my thigh. He stared at my still-erect cock, hard and dripping as I writhed under him. “Please, baby, touch me,” I begged.

  “Show me you want it,” he gasped, still trying to recover from his own orgasm. I thrust my hips up, shamelessly begging. He grinned at that, and suddenly I found myself reconsidering all the good thoughts I had just been thinking about him. He seemed to enjoy my discomfort a little too much. But before I could humiliate myself further, he leaned forward and buried his face against my stomach briefly, and then his hands loosened to stroke my chest and my thighs. I started to reach for him, but he swung around until he knelt between my legs, his hands gripping my inner thighs firmly and pushing them far apart, spreading me wide open. I felt very exposed lying there on my living room floor, now brightly lit by the morning sun streaming through the thin curtains.

  Then he brushed a palm lightly over my dripping cockhead. My hips shot up in response, and I no longer cared about the sight I must have made, squirming there on the floor. All I wanted was for him to get closer. I whimpered, and he took pity; leaning forward, he played his tongue over my balls and then licked lightly up my shaft while I moaned in frustrated pleasure. The licking grew more forceful until he suddenly captured my whole shaft in his mouth. One strong suck, and that was all it took. My hips shot up off the floor, and the pulsating, burning pleasure seemed to last forever.

  When I came back to myself, Matt lay next to me on the floor, arms tight around me, and his mouth nuzzled my neck. I turned to give him one deep and very heartfelt kiss. His hand wandered down my side until it rested on my hip for a moment. He pulled me over to my stomach and ran his hand down my ass. “You’ve got red marks.” He leaned down to kiss and lick at the marks. “Still warm too.” His tongue felt cool and soothing. He smiled as he came back up. We turned to lie on our sides, facing each other, practically nose to nose.

  He looked a little concerned. “Was it okay? Was I too rough?”

  I butted my forehead gently against his. “That was fantastic,” I whispered. “I really like it that way sometimes. Not always, but yeah, once in a while.”

  We lay in silence for a while until I said, “We’d better get going.” I got up and started for the bathroom to clean up before getting dressed.

  “Is there a particular time we have to be there, or is it just afternoon visiting hours?” Matt followed me. We talked as we finished straightening our clothes.

  “I try to get there around noon, so I can have lunch with her. I’ll call ahead and have them fix a tray for you too. Then we go for a walk. They have a very nice garden area and a walking path. After the walk, we sit in the sunroom, and I read to her. There are newspapers and a little library. I try to stick to that routine. The doctors say it’s very important for Alzheimer’s patients to have a predictable schedule.” He raised his eyebrows at that, but I ignored him.

  On the way over, my phone beeped with a text message. I took a look and wished I hadn’t. It was from Nash, asking me to call him. He had already left a phone message, which I had completely ignored. Didn’t the FBI ever take a Sunday off? Well, maybe they didn’t, but I did. I deleted the text.

  “Something wrong?”

  I hesitated. I wanted to tell him all about it. He used to be a police detective. He would probably have some good advice. But I had been told in no uncertain terms not to discuss it with anyone. “Shit,” I muttered.

  He raised his eyebrows. “If you need to call, go ahead.”

  I was a bit annoyed. “I don’t need to call. Not on Sunday, damn it. Those… It can wait.”

  We arrived just in time for lunch. Stella, one of the nurse’s aides, had saved us two seats at my grandmother’s table and made sure she knew that today was the last Sunday of the month. Stella was great; she seemed to remember everything and knew what my grandma needed even when she couldn’t ask for it.

  “And who’s your handsome friend, James?” she asked, looking Matt up and down.

  “This is my… This is Matthew. He wanted to come and meet Grandma. Matt, this is Stella, the best nursing assistant in this place.”

  “You’d better believe that’s right, honey.” She smiled. “But your grandmother, she’s an easy one to take care of, such a sweet nature. She’s having a good day today too. She’ll be happy to see you and to meet your new friend.” The way she said it, I could practically see the quotation marks around the word friend. But she seemed genuinely glad that I had somebody with me, so I only got a little warm in the face, even with Matt grinning at me.

  We joined Grandma at the table, and she called me James and appeared happy to see me, her faded green eyes clear and smiling. She was indeed having a good day. There were times when she did not recognize me at all. It seemed like those times had occurred more often lately.

  I introduced her to Matt, and she seemed very pleased to meet him.

  We had a pleasant lunch, making small talk, and then went for our walk through the garden, following the little paved path to an area with some tables where the residents sometimes had group picnics. At eighty-two, Grandma still got around just fine. She carried a cane but only really used it when the weather made the arthritis in her knee flare up.

  We sat at one of the tables at the end of the path so she could rest for a moment before we returned.

  She smiled again at Matt and reached over to pat his arm. “Aren’t you a fine-looking young man? I’m so happy that Jamie finally has a boyfriend. You are his boyfriend, aren’t you? He has never brought anyone to see me, so you must be special.”

  I definitely turned red that time. I stammered, “Uh, Grandma, we only just… I mean no, he’s not. It’s kind of soon…”

  Matt took over. “Grandma, I would very much like to be Jamie’s boyfriend. He’s still thinking about it, though, and I don’t want to rush him.”

  My jaw dropped. “Oh…um.”

  “No,” said Grandma, “you can’t rush him. James is a very deliberate boy. He likes to know what to expect. He never did like surprises, not even on his birthday. I’m so glad you’ve already learned that about him.”

  “Yes, I know he has a schedule, and he likes to stick to it. But what I don’t know, Grandma, is why?”

  Shocked, I protested, “Matt, you can’t just… You can’t…” It seemed I had been unable to complete a whole sentence since we’d arrived, but this time it wasn’t embarrassment. It was anger. I took a deep breath and said in a low voice, “I didn’t bring you here so you could grill my grandmother about me.”

  He looked suddenly guilty. “You’re right, baby. That was out of line.” He reached for my hand, but I pulled it away.

  “Don’t ‘baby’ me. You had no right.”

  “I said I was sorry…”

  My grandmother interrupted. “Of course he has a right, James, if he cares about you. And anyone can see that he does care about you very much. I can see it in his eyes, every time he looks at you.”

  “Oh.” I gazed down at the table, feeling overwhelmed.

  Grandma turned to Matt and continued, “Well, he’s just always been like that, at least since he moved in with me. But I’m sure he had no routine at all when he was with his parents. Maybe that’s why.”

  Matt opened his mouth, no doubt to ask for clarification, but I glared at him pretty fiercely, and he shut it again, looking subdued. An unusual look for him, I believed.

  I noticed Grandma wringing her hands, looking off into the distance with a worried expression. I reached over to take her hand. “What’s wrong, Grandma? What are you thinking?”

  “I worry so about Lily. Have you heard from her? She never calls me anymore. Has she called you?”

  “Yes, she calls me every few weeks. Don’t worry, she’s doing fine.”

  My sweet grandma suddenly looked angry enough to spit nails. “She’s not fine. She’s never been fine, not since the day thirty years ago that she met that thief, that drug addict, dragging her around
everywhere, in and out of jail…” Her voice was raised. I held her hands.

  “Please, Grandma, calm down. It’s okay. Mom is all right. I heard from her just a couple of weeks ago. They’re in Miami, beautiful weather and a nice little apartment near the beach. He’s even got a job working in a garage. They’re doing fine.”

  Gradually her breathing slowed, and then came the shame, which I hated even more than the occasional outbursts of anger. Her hand came up to pat my cheek, and she whispered, “I’m sorry, James. I shouldn’t talk about your father like that. You don’t need to hear it.” Her eyes got wet. “I only wish I could have gotten you away from them sooner. But I didn’t know where you were half the time, you moved around so much…” Then suddenly she smiled, and everything was fine again. “But you turned out okay, didn’t you?”

  She looked at Matt. “He turned out pretty good, didn’t he?”

  Matt’s eyes appeared wide and shiny with emotion. He swallowed hard and forced a smile. “Yes, Grandma, he turned out great. I’m sure we have you to thank for that.”

  He reached for my hand again, and this time I let him take it, our fingers entwining.

  The rest of the afternoon passed quietly as we read together in the sunroom. We left Grandma napping peacefully and drove home in silence.

  Matt reached over to hold my hand again, only removing it when he needed two hands on the steering wheel.

  We pulled into the parking garage of my building, and I said, “I have to go to work tomorrow, so I can’t stay up too late. But you can come up and have some coffee if you want, before you go. You probably should. It’s a long drive back to your place.”

  He looked happy about that but seemed a little quiet. I wondered if he thought I was still mad at him.

  I made coffee, and we sat on the couch, drinking slowly. Finally I put my cup down and said, “Matt, it’s all right. If I really didn’t want you to know more about me, I wouldn’t have taken you to see my grandmother in the first place. It’s just hard to talk about it, that’s all.”