by Anne Tenino
“Very special,” Jock agreed, skimming his lips down Toby’s neck.
“And second, we’re not living in this dorm room next year. Yes, it’s just like our little cabanon, but I want to be alone with you. I’ve learned to like frat boys, but I don’t want to live with more than one at a time.”
Jock lifted his head and came back to Toby’s mouth. “Just the frat boy you love,” he murmured before giving Toby one more gentle kiss. Then he rolled onto his back, pulling Toby onto his chest.
“Yeah.” Toby yawned hugely, settling into his boyfriend’s heat. “Just the frat boy I love.”
Jock organized Toby’s birthday weekend with all the care he’d devote to his own deflowering.
Which it would be, if all went as planned.
“Deflowering is such a lame-ass word,” he told Brad while they were sitting in the dude’s living room one afternoon in mid-July a few days before the big event. Jock had pretty much told Brad everything, because Brad had been free with the advice and personal experiences so far. And seriously, after the “let Toby make friends with your prostate” conversation, he was feeling like he owed Brad a little gratitude. Or a lot.
“Guess you could call it ‘stemming,’ like from ‘stem the rose.’” Brad shrugged, as if most of his attention was on his new guitar and putting his fingers in the right spots on the fretboard.
“I’ve never heard ‘stem the rose.’” Jock grimaced, because seriously, he could never hear it again and be happy about that.
“It’s from Brokeback Mountain,” Brad said absently, holding his tongue between his teeth as he stretched his ring finger into different position.
“Short story or movie?”
“Dunno. I heard it in the movie, but I never read the story.” Brad smirked at him. “Not all of us are as academic as you.”
“Whatever.” Jock snorted. “Think I’ll stick with ‘deflowering’ until something better comes along. So glad we aren’t still using condoms,” he added in a mutter, resting the back of his head on Brad’s chair. It wasn’t so much that he was dying to bottom, but he was dying to get it over with. No matter what Brad and Toby said, he didn’t need to wait to make it special—wasn’t letting Toby do it special enough already?
“Waiting’ll be worth it,” Brad said, convincing Jock that the dude could read his mind. It wasn’t the first time Brad had done something like that.
“You didn’t wait.”
“Nope, but if I’d done it the way you are? I could’ve saved myself some emotional pain.”
“You said you wouldn’t change anything.”
Brad stopped plucking at his strings and met Jock’s eye. “No, I wouldn’t. I’m just saying if we’d done it after I knew how he felt about me, it would have made it even better.”
“You know we’re guys, right? We’re supposed to be able to separate sex from emotions.”
Brad snorted at him. “Just ’cause we can doesn’t mean we should. That’s like a primordial holdover or something. You know when guys come, the signal originates in our spinal columns, not our brains? And you know what else? For the first three months in the womb, we’re all girls. It’s the default sex.”
Jock held up his palm. “Um, I don’t wanna talk about girls with you.”
Brad laughed and went back to his guitar.
“I didn’t know that though. Guess some of us aren’t as academic as you.”
Other than flipping him off, Brad ignored him.
Jock threw his leg over the arm of the chair and relaxed, listening to Brad try to make music. He was going to miss hanging out here. Being in the dorm was getting seriously old, even with Toby there, and they’d ended up at Brad and Sebastian’s a lot. It would be even better to have their own place though. Which they’d have as soon as Brad and Sebastian turned over the lease to them.
“When do you guys move again?” he asked when Brad took a break, setting his instrument on the coffee table.
“End of July. Sebastian has to be at Berkeley by mid-August, and we need time to find a place and stuff.”
“You’re still staying with Toby’s parents until you do?” They were only an hour or so away from the Bay Area.
Brad smirked. “Yup. Toby’s mom just loooves Sebastian. I think she sees him as a substitute son since neither of hers is continuing on to get a PhD.”
“You’d think Tobes deciding to get a Master’s in Social Work would be good enough for her. He finished the one in history for her first.”
“Yeah?” Brad said mildly. They’d had this conversation before. He stretched his arms and then laced his hands behind his head. “He only did it for her?”
Jock ignored that. “He’s totally serious about the MSW though.”
“He still thinking it would be cool to have a camp for queer youth someday?”
“Yeah.” Jock shook his head. “Being with those guys in France and helping them work through their crazy did something to my Tobes. He’s all driven to help people now.”
“Your Tobes,” Brad murmured, calling Jock’s attention to the fact that he’d said it—probably on purpose, knowing the dude. “All those guys that email you, like Clancy? The kids in high school who’re trying to figure their shit out, that motivated him too. It’s not just France.”
“I know,” Jock sighed. For every part of him that didn’t like sharing Toby, an equal part of him loved his boyfriend’s dedication to the idea. Plus, he understood it. “Every guy out there like us who needs someone to talk to? Or a place to, like, fit in for a while? It’d be awesome.”
“Yeah.” Brad nodded. “But would you have gone to a camp like that if it was an option?”
“No.”
“Me neither.”
“Toby says that’s my job, to figure out how to get the kids like you and I were to go.” He’d been talking to Clancy about that a little, once the kid had finally emailed him back.
“Toby’s sure changed a lot,” Brad murmured, staring at the wall.
“Not really,” Jock protested, his shoulders tensing up. “Just some parts of him sort of came to the forefront. Parts he didn’t share with you.”
“I’m not saying it’s out of character, dude. I’m saying I never picked him for a guy to get all fired up about some grand plan.”
To be offended, or not to be offended? That was the question for Jock.
“Gotta tell you, man,” Brad continued, shifting on the couch and blinking out of his spaciness. “I thought he’d be good for you, you know? But you’re just as good for him.”
Be not offended. But seriously, “Do you spend a lot of time thinking about your friends’ love lives?”
Brad nodded, totally not showing any evidence of embarrassment.
“Bet you didn’t see Danny’s happy ending coming.”
Brad chuckled. “When’s his wedding again?”
“Next June. Almost a year.” Jock was starting to get it. “And yeah, we’re all planning on going.”
“I could probably get my boyfriend to take me to that,” Brad said, smiling.
“Cool. I’ll show you the cabanon.” Which he’d already told Madame B he and Toby would be staying in when they came for the nuptials.
The cabin Jock rented in Oregon wine country was nearly perfect. It was a “studio” cottage, a single room with a bathroom, and the walls were faintly yellow. Bigger than Toby’s little hut in France, though. It even had a kitchenette. Nearly one whole side of the building was made up of windows that looked out onto a vineyard sloping away before them. They could lie in bed and watch the grapes grow if they wanted.
One thing it did have that the cabanon hadn’t was a hot tub on the deck. After a day of checking out the wineries around the place and eating at a local French restaurant, they returned to the studio and watched the sunset while soaking naked in the warm water. Jock leaned against the side and Toby sat between his legs, back to his chest.
“Happy birthday, babe,” he murmured in Toby’s ear. Then he kissed that spe
cial spot that always made his boyfriend sigh and tilt his head for more.
“Best birthday ever,” Toby said. He played with Jock’s toes under the water, which was a weird sensation. Sort of ticklish in an erotic way.
It’s time. He’d done everything—all the stuff that would make Toby happy on his birthday—except let Toby fuck him. But it was time, because just like every other milestone they’d passed, Jock would never not be freaked out about it. So he had to take his balls in his hand and do it. “It’s about to get better,” he whispered. Easier to hide the tension in his voice that way.
Toby sat up, splashing a little, and turned around to face Jock. “What’s your plan?”
Easier to hide the tension, but not necessarily successful. Jock stretched his arms out on the edge of the tub and shrugged one shoulder. Beyond being able to explain, because he’d tied himself up in knots over this, and he was afraid that once again Toby’d sense that and insist they wait until he was ready. Jock had thought he’d be able to hide it this time, but—
Toby stood up, water sluicing down his body, dick level with Jock’s mouth. But before Jock could reach for it and get his lips around the head, Toby had a hand between them, out for Jock to take. Looking down at him and holding Jock’s gaze.
He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little bit excited by what he saw there. Toby thought it was time, too. Jock let Toby twine their fingers together and pull him up, then take his hand again when they’d toweled off. Following when his boyfriend led him silently to the bed.
Using only touch to guide him, Toby had Jock lie on his side, facing the nightstand where he’d left the lube. Staring at it, with his boyfriend lying right behind him, palm smoothing down Jock’s side, Jock had a little bit of a panic. “We made too big a deal of this,” he said over his pounding heart.
“Maybe,” Toby said quietly. He kissed a line across Jock’s shoulders. “But can you honestly say there’s been a better time than right now?”
“No,” Jock breathed, heart slowing as he closed his eyes and let Toby’s touch soothe him. First stroking his arms and kissing the back of his neck, then Toby’s fingertips trailing across the contours of Jock’s chest. Jock let it all happen, pushing his need to take over away and enjoying the sensations. Small bolts of desire raced to his groin when Toby played with his nipples, making Jock groan. “Love the way you do that. Feels so good.”
“Love to make you feel good,” Toby said against the skin of Jock’s neck, twisting closer and rubbing against him, chest and belly hair caressing him. Then the end of Toby’s cock nudged Jock’s lower back, and Jock instinctively arched, tilting his hips to give Toby more acreage to work with and himself more contact. Shivering when Toby’s thighs rubbed his ass cheeks.
Toby was so much slower than Jock was. Maybe because it was his first time, but Toby’d searched out a response from every possible inch of skin above Jock’s waist before his fingers finally reached between Jock’s legs. He hadn’t taken this long the times he’d furthered his relationship with Jock’s prostate, or the sensitive nerves of his asshole. They’d done that enough that Jock was prepared for this. Even welcomed it with a groan, straightening one leg out and rolling half onto his stomach to give Toby better access. Let Toby take care of him, and let him see how much Jock loved it.
Toby tortured him, rubbing his taint and cupping his balls while reaching around to stroke his dick. Building up the tension until Jock flung his arm out for the lube and held it behind him for Toby to take. “C’mon, please. Toby. Please.”
“’Kay baby,” Toby whispered, circling his thumb around Jock’s hole, then dribbling a couple drops of cold lube on it and rubbing that in. Pushing in and pulling out, a little farther each time. Jock didn’t need it that slow, but being touched this way was too good to fight against. Too delicious to skip over by shoving his hips back and forcing Toby deeper. Letting Toby do what he wanted, Jock gave him his reactions in turn, because he’d finally figured that out—Toby needed to have control sometimes, and it made Jock happy to give him what he needed. So he didn’t stop himself from groaning, or smother the jerking gasps Toby elicited from him. He didn’t try to keep his hips nailed to the bed either. Instead he opened up further, rolling onto his stomach and pushing his ass into the air a couple of inches, then more as Toby introduced other fingers.
But he couldn’t stop himself from asking for more then, either. “Babe, now.”
Toby halted, fingers buried in Jock’s ass, up on his knees. “You’re sure? I don’t want to—”
Wrapping his hands in the sheets, Jock groaned. “I want to feel you fuck me.” And for the first time, he one-hundred percent meant it. He had a deeper understanding of Toby when he was at this point—widening his legs and tilting his hips, showing everything, trying to entice him inside. Needing to get to the next step, because the anticipation was starting to break him.
Toby’s shaky breathing almost drowned out the sound of more lube being slicked all over something. His dick. Then Toby’s fingers slid out and his head was pressing against Jock’s ass.
Jock had another second or two of panic because it felt so much bigger than it looked, and for the first time he got it—he was afraid, at least somewhat, of the pain—but Toby kissed his spine and held himself there, letting Jock adjust to the idea. Until he nudged against Toby’s cock. Like his asshole was feeling a little curious and wanted to play.
It didn’t really hurt, but there was so much more to a dick than just being bigger than a finger. He flashed back to that night Toby’d laid it on his chest and Jock had thought it was its own entity.
He’d been right, or close. Jock hadn’t quite believed this could be the life-changing moment everyone swore it was, not until he was being penetrated by his boyfriend. His eyes flew open, gaze fixing on the wall in front of him, while chills raced up and down his body, spreading goose bumps over his skin in waves as Toby worked farther into him. Thoughts and feelings he couldn’t name or describe built into a big swirling jumble, filling him up as much as Toby’s dick slowly was. Overwhelming and confusing him, and he didn’t know if the physical sensations were causing the emotional ones or if it was the other way around. It all raced through him and back over and over.
Right now, the last thing he felt like was a girl.
Once Toby was all the way in, balls pressing against Jock’s taint, Jock was more out of control than he’d ever been in his life, and he totally got it. Why guys wanted this, and it wasn’t just because they wanted to make their boyfriends happy. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once. It made him feel alive.
“Okay, baby?”
Gasping, Jock nodded.
Toby dropped down onto his elbows, forehead resting on Jock’s upper back a second, trembling. “I don’t know how long I’ll last, but I’m going to try and make it good.”
“It’s already good,” Jock managed to say. “It’s you.”
Toby swallowed and started rocking. Slowly, pressing his groin into the muscles of Jock’s ass. Totally different from the way Jock fucked him—pulling Toby up on his knees and angling his strokes for maximum effect. Toby was gentler, but Jock felt swamped by the act just the same. Unable to think straight and only able to feel and enjoy as Toby thrust into him and slid out, each motion pushing Jock’s excitement a little higher. Winding him up for the big finale.
“I’m gonna come,” Toby panted, and Jock’s hand moved to his own dick without thought, stroking himself a few times before he felt Toby pulsing, then the heat of his cum flowing into him, triggering Jock’s own orgasm, and even that was different than he expected. Stronger and deeper inside him, like an undersea quake that created a tidal wave, washing through him in a rush and carrying him along with it until the water ebbed and left him shuddering on the bed, lying in the damp sticky glory of it all, with Toby half on top and half beside him.
The sticky glory slowly got gross, but Jock didn’t feel like moving, just staying there with his eyes closed, not q
uite asleep but not totally in touch with reality. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this loose, muscles too lethargic to move. In a good way. Toby’s occasional kisses on his shoulder and the soft glide of his palm over Jock’s back added to the tranquility.
“Do you feel any different?” Toby asked after a while, voice soft and falling right into his ear.
Jock smiled. “Huh-uh. Should I?”
“I don’t think so.” Toby stroked back Jock’s hair, massaging his scalp with his fingertips, then kissing his temple. “I love you.”
Jock pried up his eyelids to see his boyfriend looking down at him, forehead bunched up. The sun had set, but ambient light picked out the planes of Toby’s face in dusky blue and a tinge of pink. For a second it took Jock back to that night in front of the cabanon, when he’d not quite been ready to take the plunge into a relationship. He lifted his hand and smoothed out the lines in Toby’s forehead. “I love you too.” Rolling over onto his back, he pulled Toby’s head onto his chest. “I’m glad we did that. I get it now.”
Toby didn’t want to stay where Jock put him. “Get what?” He propped his cheek on his hand, still watching Jock.
“What I’ve been missing.” He blinked heavily. “Letting you get that close to me. That . . . intimate.” He rolled so they faced each other. “Show me how much you love me.”
Toby kissed him, long and slow, then finally settled down on the bed. “No regrets?”
“Never. Not with you.” He had to yawn before adding, “I’m kinda stupid, though.”
“Why?”
“Because I made such a big deal out of the bottoming thing without having a clue what it would really make me feel.”
“How’s that?” Toby’s mouth wasn’t quite a frown, more like his lips were on the precipice of going for it, but not quite ready to leap.
“Just, right now? About the last thing I feel like is a girl.”
Toby’s face melted into a smile that made it obvious how much he liked hearing that. He stroked Jock’s face a second before kissing him quickly. “Take a nap. You need to rest up for later.”