by Devon Rhodes
“Hire me?” Jim echoed stupidly. All he could think about was the shop.
“To be the general contractor for my house remodel. I had honestly been batting around the idea of hiring a GC part-time anyway, since I’m working solid hours during the day and can’t be there to keep an eye on the subs. I figure I’d much rather pay someone I know and… trust, than some stranger.”
The little pause tightened Jim’s chest, and he thought about what the past half hour had cost him in terms of his friendship with Tommy. If he’d known then how it would turn out, he would never have opened the damn door.
Did he have trust issues with Tommy? Put as simple and baldly as Tommy had laid it out, it was hard to deny. He hadn’t told him about the layoff just because he’d been focusing on reassuring Tommy, but would it really have been that difficult to just open his mouth and say, “I’m gone,” rather than have Tommy find out from someone else? He hadn’t been rushing to call him back and tell him either. No, instead he’d holed up with his pride and subconsciously waited for someone else to do his dirty work.
Coming out was another thing. Up until Tommy had planted that kiss on him in the bathroom, he’d been convinced he was straight as an arrow.
Keith’s straight, and he doesn’t have any issues with it.
Yeah, but he’s the exception.
Apparently not.
Jim winced. No, he hadn’t even given Tommy a chance. Tommy had never indicated that he was homophobic in any way, shape, or form. Moreover, he was one of Jim’s closest friends—one he’d lied to on more than one occasion.
“Check you out! Is that a hickey on your neck?”
“Shit, you can see that? I thought the collar hid it.”
“Was her last name Hoover? About time you hooked up. Okay, spill, Jim. You gonna see her again?”
“Nah, she wasn’t the long-term type.”
Tommy reading a text over his shoulder. Can u come over 2-nite? “Who’s that from, new girlfriend?”
“Not interested, but she won’t take the hint.”
Jim wasn’t sure that working closely with Tommy was the wisest thing to do after all that had transpired today. But he also sensed if he turned this opportunity down, it would likely cost them their friendship for good—and the thought of throwing Tommy’s faith in him back in his face right now was unimaginable. Maybe given time he could earn back some of the trust he’d taken for granted. Jim owed Tommy that much.
It was humbling—and troubling—to realize how wrong he’d been. And if Tommy hadn’t exactly confided in him about his own bent, well, two wrongs didn’t make a right. Besides, Jim had a feeling Tommy’s attraction to men was about a couple kisses old, whereas Jim had known about his preference for cock since he was old enough to know what to do with one.
He looked up and willed Tommy to sense his sincerity. “I’d be happy to help you out. And I’m sorry about not telling you. No excuses. Friends all the way, or not at all.”
Tommy relaxed against the back of the chair and gestured with the slice of pizza in his hand. “Can we move on from the touchy-feely shit? I’m starved.”
Jim got the unspoken message: We’re okay. “Go ahead and eat. I’m not stopping you. Is one of these meat lovers?” He opened first one box, then the other before he heard a choking sound from Tommy.
Alarmed, he looked up, only to see Tommy desperately trying to swallow and laugh at the same time.
Tommy finally managed, “You’re a meat lover, huh?”
The meaning hit him, and Jim threw back his head and laughed. “Asshole.” Yeah, okay. Tommy knowing he liked men was far from the worst thing that could have happened. This whole bizarre day he’d gone through might actually turn out to be a good thing.
Jim held on to that thought with both hands.
Chapter 6
IT WAS a strange mix of elation and melancholy Tommy took with him when he left the title company’s office with the keys to his house. Heading to his new place alone just drove home his single status, and he wished he had someone to share the moment with. Immediately Jim came to mind, but he ruthlessly quashed that tangent.
Despite their joint efforts, their friendship had been strained at best over the past two weeks. They’d seen each other almost daily, and every time Tommy was near Jim, he remembered the way that heavy body had felt pressing him into the sofa cushions, the way Jim’s taste and scent had seeped into his memory, the sound of Jim’s groan as he reacted to Tommy’s movements. He still yearned for Jim, missed their closeness.
Then he would recall the distance Jim had—consciously or not—kept him at, and it was like a splash of cold water to his arousal. Needless to say, it made being around Jim awkward and draining. They limited their conversations to construction work and sports. Tommy hadn’t realized how often they had usually talked—and about such a wide variety of topics—until this tension had settled in.
Even worse had been noticing, one night last weekend, Jim’s truck had been gone all night. Tommy waited the next day for Jim to mention where he’d been—surely an overnight trip warranted a mention—but no explanation had been forthcoming. Jim had come back from wherever he’d been in a surly mood, but Tommy had gotten only a terse “nothing” in response when he’d asked what was wrong. Tommy dejectedly took that as more proof Jim wasn’t interested in putting any effort into their friendship and pulled further away himself. He would be glad when he got moved into the new place and couldn’t be witness to Jim’s comings and goings anymore.
Speaking of which….
Tommy pulled up in front of his house. A frisson of excitement zinged up his spine. His house. He climbed out of his pickup, only to notice his wasn’t the only truck parked along the curb. He’d pulled up right behind Jim’s pickup, but a quick glance showed no driver. A bit puzzled, he walked toward the house. And saw Jim… sitting on his front porch step.
A bubble of excitement broke free even though his cynical side went after it with a vicious pin.
He’s just here to get to work and earn a buck.
But the expression on Jim’s face wasn’t avaricious or, worse, uncaring. It was happy and proud. Another bubble of positive emotion welled up inside Tommy, taking his breath away.
“Hello there, sir. I’ve been admiring this fine place, and I’m wondering if you know who the lucky owner is.” Jim’s banter sounded so familiar, yet it rang with nostalgia, not recent experience. Still, something within Tommy was eating it up.
“Why, that would be me.”
“Congrats, man. You did it.” Jim dropped the act and pulled Tommy into a back-thumping hug. “I’m proud of you. Is it okay if I come in with you and take a look?”
Tommy flushed with pride but shrugged casually. “Nothing different from when we were here with the agent a couple days ago.”
“Yeah, there is. It’s yours now. That changes everything.”
Tommy’s breath caught at the earnest and heartfelt affirmation. How had he thought their friendship was in question? Jim had been with him every step of the way on this, and was still here for him now. Tommy recalled how excited Jim had been for him when he’d learned Tommy’s offer had been accepted. Now that he was unemployed, a house probably seemed far out of reach for Jim, but he was still able to be so honestly happy for Tommy….
He turned to apply the key to the door, trying to ignore the prickling in his throat and his stinging eyes.
Might as well get it all over with.
Reaching into his front pocket as he stepped over the threshold for the first time, he turned back to Jim. “Here you go. These are yours.”
Jim looked down at the keys Tommy placed in his hand, then back up at Tommy. He took one step forward, then another, crowding into Tommy’s space in a way he’d conspicuously managed to avoid for the past two weeks, since that crazy, mixed-up day where their worlds had turned upside down.
Rather than retreating, Tommy stood his ground and waited to see what Jim would do. Stopping so close Tommy coul
d feel the warmth radiating off his body, Jim gazed down into Tommy’s eyes entreatingly. He didn’t have the wherewithal to turn Jim away, nor did he want to, and he reflexively licked his lips, which seemed to be enough of an invitation for the other man.
This coming together was slow and sweet, an asking, a question. It felt like making up, which was crazy. It wasn’t as if they’d been together romantically in the first place, much less suffered a breakup. But it had been a severance, nonetheless, and both men seemed to need the reassurance they were getting back on track.
Tommy edged forward just a bit, enough so they now touched along the lengths of their forms, fitting together in a way Tommy had never experienced. The couple inches Jim had on him aligned them in a much different way than Tommy, having only been with women, was used to. It felt good, freeing somehow, to let someone bigger and more experienced take the lead, and he poured his acquiescence into the kiss.
This had the effect of throwing fuel on the fire, as Jim apparently recognized the gift of Tommy’s submission to his desire and turned them halfway around, thumping Tommy up against a handy bit of wall. Jim ran his hands down Tommy’s forearms before seizing his wrists and holding them up against the foyer wall, effectively trapping him in place. Tommy groaned into Jim’s devouring mouth as he rotated his hips against the hardness grinding into his own, giving back as much as he took.
His hands were suddenly, shockingly free as he lost the anchor holding him upright and foundered, only to hit the wall again as if magnetized when Jim’s hands went to work on the fly of his pants. In just seconds, Jim was touching skin with his warm hand, and Tommy gritted his teeth, trying to keep from coming on the spot as Jim squeezed, then stroked his blisteringly hard shaft.
Tommy could barely take in enough air, then stopped breathing entirely when Jim ran his hand over his dampened slit, then raised that hand to his mouth and, holding Tommy’s gaze with his own, licked his palm clean. The secondary reason for Jim’s hedonism became clear a moment later when he took Tommy in hand again and used the moisture he’d licked onto his palm to ease the glide of his pulls.
The slick, spit-aided slide was too similar to his own method of bringing himself off, and coupled with the fact Jim was doing it, Tommy knew immediately he wouldn’t last. And Jim knew exactly what he was doing. And why wouldn’t he? So different from the tentative and gentle touch of a woman, the large hand confidently wrapped around Tommy’s cock was practiced and perfect, bringing Tommy stuttering over the edge in an embarrassingly short amount of time.
He dropped his head, forehead to Jim’s broad shoulder, as he cried out wordlessly, unable to give any warning. He barely knew a second ahead of time before he clenched and shot, over and over as Jim accepted his cum in his hand and gave an extra polish down and over the sensitive top. He even knew instinctively when to stop, when the sensation got to be too much for Tommy.
Eyes wide open, looking down at his prick loosely supported in Jim’s open hand, Tommy debated for all of two seconds before he reached for Jim’s zipper. Jim allowed him to take the monumental step of reaching in and feeling the solid, silky warmth of a cock not his own for the first time before he stopped Tommy, gently stealing Tommy’s prize away.
Tommy murmured in protest at the loss, and Jim soothed him. “Shh, just watch.”
Jim dropped his head similarly to rest on Tommy’s shoulder so they were both supporting each other, looking down between their bodies. Aching to hold that weight in his palm again, Tommy nevertheless did as Jim said and watched the show between their relaxed forms.
At least he was relaxed. He could feel Jim growing more rigid by the second, and he shamelessly, eagerly watched as Jim did what worked best for him, making mental notes for later. He’d never before seen another man’s erection in person, never mind up close. The head was more defined than his, mushroom-shaped rather than plum, and the color darker. Whereas his cock was mostly smooth, the veins on Jim’s were pronounced and getting larger by the minute. Jim’s twisting movement over the top was not something he’d ever done.
Suddenly, it hit him—Jim was using Tommy’s cum to lubricate his jacking.
“Oh God, that’s so fucking hot.”
Jim’s breathing came faster on the heels of Tommy’s admiration, and his strokes increased without fanfare to blurring speed. A hitch in his breath, and then rope after rope of amazingly white cum jetted out to decorate Tommy’s abdomen, his softening cock, his pubic hair, and the floor.
Jim’s hand slowed, milking lightly, and then finally stilled. Tommy couldn’t wait any longer to touch the vision in front of him. He ran a fingertip through the ejaculate on his stomach, rubbed it between his finger and thumb, then lifted them to his mouth. Briny, a touch bitter, and still warm. His mouth watered as the taste confirmed every fantasy he’d ever had about the man breathless against him.
It had been a long time, maybe a year, since he’d first tasted his own cum, pretending it was Jim’s. Now that he’d had the real deal, he was hooked. And how. His new recreational drug of choice… Jim’s semen.
He’d always imagined he’d be embarrassed to look a man in the eye after something like this, most likely a holdover from the repressive atmosphere in which he’d grown up. One he still lived with, to some extent. But when Tommy raised his head to take in Jim’s sated and mellow expression, he was able to smile, then begin to laugh as he looked down at himself and the floor.
“Look at the mess you made,” he mock scolded.
Jim’s slow, hot grin made Tommy’s stomach flip as he agreed. “Quite a mess. Let me just fix that for you.” And he dropped to his knees in front of Tommy, whose spent cock made a valiant attempt to express its approval of the position.
As if that wasn’t provocative enough, Jim then proceeded to blow Tommy’s mind as he cleaned his spendings off with his tongue, lips, and fingers, lingering and reveling in the process. Jim then took Tommy’s softened shaft between his lips and laved it, giving him a thorough cleaning. The shockwaves through his system had Tommy up on his toes. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined getting his first blowjob from Jim while soft and covered in Jim’s cum. But the way Jim worshiped his penis was extremely erotic, and he couldn’t mistake Jim’s enjoyment. It radiated from him.
His cock began to stiffen once again, but, with that, it turned sensitive. And not in a good way. Jim, ever attuned to his reactions, gave one last, lingering draw, then stood and tucked himself away while Tommy did the same.
Those warm chocolate eyes crinkled at the corners, and Tommy felt as light as a cloud at the sign of Jim’s good humor. Oh, he’d regretted the time they’d wasted, which could have been spent in a more intimate fashion, but more than that, he’d missed his friend.
“So. I take it you’re happy to get the keys,” he teased and was delighted at the redness tinting Jim’s cheeks in response.
“You could say that,” he admitted gruffly. Something changed in his expression and a sly smile crossed his face. “By the way, I brought you something. Housewarming gift,” he clarified.
Tommy’s eyes coasted down Jim’s form and back up. Not too many hiding places. “Must be pretty small.”
That brought a huge grin to Jim’s face, and he winked. “Nope. Not small at all. C’mon.” He beckoned, heading toward the french doors to the back deck.
Bemused, Tommy followed, then stopped dead in his tracks and gasped.
“What did you do?”
His back deck had been transformed. A surprisingly recent addition to the house, it was in solid shape, and therefore something that was way down on Tommy’s to-do list. But as he stepped out the back door, he found himself in a welcoming oasis.
A suspended glider hung from a freestanding frame near the doors, finished in a cherry stain. A red-and-blue-striped cushion for the back complemented the navy blue seat cushion. These, in turn, matched the cushions on the four chairs around a round wooden table, which looked similar to a wire spool. An umbrella that matche
d the striped cushion was extended above a hole in the middle of the table. The table was set with two place settings at the moment, and a seat-sized storage box with a hinged top was open, showing at least a few more place settings were possible.
The pink climbing roses, which had been sprawled over the ground, now trailed up a brand-new trellis, providing a beautiful living wall along one side of the deck. Several planters, which matched the stain and style of the furniture, had seasonal flowers and some tomato plants started inside.
Tommy completed his spin in a daze and saw what he’d missed before—a brand-new gas grill wrapped up in a big red bow.
“Oh, no way,” he blurted out without thinking. “That is way too expensive of a gift when you’re not working.”
Jim’s expression of enjoyment changed subtly, and he met Tommy head-on. “First off, the grill is from Keith and Sandy.”
Tommy felt a little sick at the thought he’d hurt Jim’s pride and started to apologize, but Jim cut him off.
“The rest is from me, and it wasn’t as expensive as you might think. More to the point, you have no right to tell me I can’t spend my money however I want, employed or not. In fact, I don’t want to hear another word about it except for thank you.” Jim walked slowly away toward the grill and began to mechanically remove the bow.
Tommy walked right up behind Jim, taking him without hesitation into his arms and resting his cheek against the broad back, which was currently stiff with indignation. “Thank you. And I’m sorry. And it’s beautiful. Can I keep going?”
Jim relaxed a little bit, and heartened by the response, Tommy continued, arms still wrapped around Jim’s waist from behind. “I love the furniture. You must’ve made it, right? And the colors are great. The plants are beautiful, and thank you so much for rescuing those poor roses. Is that where you got those cuts on your forearms? I can see where you must’ve worn gloves and a rolled-up shirt—about four inches of scratches.”