They made their way to Brick Lane. Jevon waited while Rhys took a shower but, when he’d been gone twenty minutes, braved the steam to check on him.
Rhys was standing beneath the hot water, head down, hands braced on the wall. Jevon hovered in the doorway for a blink of an eye before stripping his clothes and stepping under the spray to join him.
He stood behind Rhys, his arms around his waist, his face nuzzling the swathe of perfect pale skin between his shoulder blades. Even a glance across a crowded bar from Rhys was enough to make Jevon’s dick twitch. Naked in the shower? Yeah. It was on.
Jevon’s cock slid smoothly along Rhys’s crease. He sunk his teeth into Rhys’s tender flesh and revelled in the answering gasp. “I thought you’d got lost in here.”
Rhys hummed. “If I had, I’ve definitely been found.” He pushed back on Jevon, grinding himself lightly against Jevon’s cock. “But it won’t be for long if you keep doing that.”
“Uh-huh.” Jevon glided his hands down Rhys’s wet skin. Over the past week, he’d learned how to play this part of Rhys’s body with his fingers and tongue—committed every sweetly sensitive spot to memory—and had become so addicted that his dreams had shifted from Rhys fucking him, to Jevon’s cock easing inside Rhys. Making his eyes roll and his body jerk. But then his fantasies would flip back again, and he’d imagine himself on his back, his legs flung open, and Rhys thrusting inside him, driving him into oblivion. Man, I’m confused. But of one thing he was certain. I need him to feel good.
Jevon shut off the shower and tugged Rhys out of the bathroom, water dripping on the floor as they went. He snagged a towel and haphazardly dried them both, then he pushed Rhys down on the bed and straddled him. In this new position, it was Rhys’s cock teasing Jevon’s hole, but he tore himself away from the entrancing pleasure and moved down Rhys’s body.
Sucking Rhys’s cock was like breathing now. Sliding his fingers inside him, searching out the electric spot that turned Rhys’s moans into guttural shouts took more patience. But Jevon did it. He hooked Rhys’s leg over his shoulder and made him come, only withdrawing when Rhys begged him to stop.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Rhys shook his head, his face flushed and beautiful. “You do something to me, man. I’m gonna combust one of these days.”
Jevon laughed. His own dick was still painfully hard, but nothing compared to seeing Rhys like this. The world could wait because Jevon wasn’t getting off. That’s a bad pun, dude.
Rhys cupped Jevon’s face. “What are you laughing at?”
“Myself. I’m fucking hilarious.”
“Well, you are a clown, babe.”
The casual endearment hurt Jevon’s heart. He dragged himself back to Rhys’s eye level and kissed him to numb the pain, but he still batted Rhys’s hands away when he reached for his swollen cock. “Later. I gotta meet Efe and she’ll deck me if I’m late.”
“If we’re late.”
Jevon grinned. “Don’t get too excited. She’s a force of nature.”
“Good for her.”
They got dressed and left the Brick Lane flat behind. By the time they got to the bakery in Vauxhall, it was winding down for the night, but only out front. Jevon led Rhys behind the scenes where they found Efe gearing up for an overnight bake.
She tossed flour at him. “Are you here to help or eat me out of house and home?”
“Both.” Rhys stepped between them before Jevon could retaliate.
Jevon raised an eyebrow. “Sure about that? You haven’t slept since Wednesday.”
“Shh.”
Efe put an arm around Rhys, clearly as taken with him as Jevon. “I was joking, sweet boy, but seeing as you offered . . . if you can load up those sourdoughs for proving, I’ll give you all the patties and coconut slices you can eat.”
Efe’s Jamaican lamb patties, wrapped in turmeric-spiced pastry, and the coconut-jam tarts Jevon remembered from school were among his favourite things to put in his mouth. If he hadn’t had Rhys along for the ride, he’d have happily worked all night in exchange for a full belly.
As it was, the job she’d given them didn’t take that long, though Rhys seemed to enjoy it. “Do you come here and do this often?”
“What? Give out free labour in return for stuffing my face? Yeah . . . kind of. I told you before that I liked being here when I first started to deal with my sexuality. It was a port in a storm, you know?”
Rhys carefully shaped elastic bread dough the way Efe had shown him and placed it in the proving basket. “Yeah. I get it. I reckon I could sleep in front of those ovens too.”
“I think there’s a couple of staff around here who do. Efe treats this place like her living room. It’s open house once Nero’s gone home.”
“Nero?”
“The hot pizza dude.”
Rhys nodded. “I remember. And I love that you had this place to come to. It beats whoring yourself around in a sex club for company.”
“That’s how you see yourself?”
“When I don’t take the time to remind myself I did those things because I wanted to. I have no regrets, but loneliness does funny things to me.”
Rhys spoke with a smile, but the shadows in his eyes were plain to see. Hard to see. Jevon couldn’t bear it. He held out his hand. “Let’s go eat.”
Efe joined them for dinner, making good on her promise to bring them all the patties and jam tarts they could eat and setting up an impromptu staff picnic round the back by the main bread ovens.
Bakers trickled in to join them.
“It’s like being in the engine room of the Titanic,” Rhys whispered to Jevon. “If they had coal on their faces instead of flour.”
Jevon laughed. “Trust me. There’s nothing sinking about this ship. Efe’s been voted London’s top artisan baker three years running.”
Efe elbowed Jevon in the ribs. “Shush. I want Rhys to think I’m humble.”
It was hard to imagine that Rhys would think any different as they camped out on the bakery floor, sharing food she’d prepared with her own hands. And his smile said as much. “Let him talk you up, luv. Then you can return the favour.”
Sneaky git. It was as if he’d known that Efe had a gazillion stories to tell about Jevon’s awkward childhood.
“Honestly,” Efe said on her third go around. “You could’ve heard a pin drop in that church, and this young one comes screaming in because he’s poured gravy on his ice cream instead of chocolate sauce.”
Rhys laughed. “Did he ever get over it?”
Efe took a breath to respond, but Jevon clamped a hand over her mouth. “God, make it stop. I’ve got plenty of stories about you, girl. Don’t make me break open the vault.”
Still laughing, Efe wriggled out of Jevon’s grip. “You wouldn’t dare. Who’d feed you? Give you a bed for the night in the city?”
“I would.” Rhys reached for another tart. “But he’d be a fool to give up on this jam sorcery you’ve got going on, so I don’t reckon he’s gonna talk.”
Jevon mock-glared at both of them, then excused himself to the bathroom. When he came back, Efe and Rhys were alone, only empty trays and crumbs left to show for the feast Efe had brought with her. Rhys was still laughing, but Jevon sensed the shift in his already forced mood. Absorbed it. Made it his own.
He caught Efe’s gaze and she took the hint, bending to whisper something in Rhys’s ear before she hugged them both, lingering a little with her embrace for Jevon while Rhys slipped away to give them a moment.
“I can’t believe you’re going already,” she said. “It feels like you’ve barely been home.”
“Where’s home, cuz? It’s not Bedford, and it’s not kipping on your couch.”
“Is it over there, though, J? Because I don’t like the vibe coming off you right now. It’s like you don’t want to go.”
Jevon shrugged helplessly. “I do want to go—I have to go—but it’s so hard this time. I’ve never felt like this before.”
“You mean how
you feel about Rhys?”
Jevon nodded, the ability to verbalise the chaos in his heart fast becoming thin on the ground. “I’ve been pretending it’s not really happening these last few weeks, but—shit. I don’t know how I’m gonna do it.”
“Think he feels the same?” Efe nodded without waiting for Jevon’s answer. “Of course he does. He’s a tough one, that boy, but even he can’t hide how sweet he is on you. There must be a way?”
If there was, Jevon hadn’t thought of it yet. He hugged Efe close, kissed her cheek, and pulled away. “I guess we’ll either do the long distance thing or call it a day. And right now, I don’t know which is worse.”
“They both suck,” Efe said. “But maybe you need to think bigger picture? Life evolves, man. So can you.”
“Yeah, well, we’ve run out of rope. I’m heading out in the morning, and I don’t want to waste the time we’ve got left hashing out something that hurts whichever way we turn.”
“So you’re going with denial?”
“Pretty much.”
Jevon kissed Efe one more time, promised to eat all the vegetables he could find in a sodden refugee camp, then made his escape. Rhys was waiting in the bus stop, thumbing through his phone. He glanced up when he heard Jevon coming, and the gradual detachment was already there. They’d known each other a matter of months, but Jevon knew what he was doing: cutting the strings before circumstances did it for him. Shutting down. Shutting the gates. Five minutes on his own and he was already a million miles away. What would he be like after three months?
Panic seized Jevon’s chest. In the cocoon of the warm bakery, denial had seemed the safest option, but as he stared at Rhys, he realised how wrong he’d been. Pain was part of living, and fuck if the short time he’d spent with Rhys hadn’t made him more alive than he’d ever been. And there was still more. There had to be.
Jevon yanked Rhys to his feet, startling some light into his dark, dark eyes. “Take me home.”
Fifteen
This wasn’t how Rhys had imagined the climax to their last night together. He’d pictured Jevon nervous, trembling, and even unsure, but as they stumbled across the city to Rhys’s flat, it was clear Jevon knew exactly what he wanted.
Rhys’s front door hit the wall with a sickening crack. Jevon yanked Rhys over the threshold and kicked the door closed, barely waiting for another loud slam before he shoved Rhys against it, his tongue plundering his mouth. Claiming it.
Clothes disappeared in a rush of torn T-shirts and shoved-away denim. Jevon kicked his underwear aside and gripped Rhys’s throat. “Show me.”
Show you what? But Rhys didn’t say it because he knew the answer. Jevon wanted to know how much Rhys would miss him. How empty his bed would be without him. And how goddamn fucking much they could’ve loved each other if things had been different.
Rhys pried Jevon’s hand from around his neck and twined their fingers together, moving slowly despite the racing tattoo in his chest. The animal in him wanted to throw Jevon onto the bed, pin him down, and fuck him senseless—from the top or the bottom, as he was still unsure what Jevon wanted—but there was more than one way to ravage a man, and if they only did this once, fuck, they’d do it right.
He led Jevon to the bed and laid him down, covering him with his body, kissing him, consuming him, swallowing every gasp that fell from his beautiful mouth. Every touch screamed the words he’d never said, but Jevon knew. He had to know. I love you.
Jevon rolled them over, hooking a leg over Rhys’s hips so their cocks slid together as their bodies undulated like poetry. Friction. Heat. Rhys’s senses imploded, and low, tortured sounds ripped from his chest. He held Jevon tighter, blunt nails digging into his back, and hid his face in Jevon’s neck until Jevon wove his hands into Rhys’s hair and pulled his head back.
“No hiding. I want to see you.”
Rhys couldn’t argue. Didn’t want to. Just wanted to lose himself in every part of Jevon he could reach. He pushed Jevon onto his back and moved down his body, tracing the rise and fall of his abs until he reached his cock. Then he took him in his mouth and sucked him slowly, savouring every ridge and vein, every drop of fluid as it seeped out and coated his tongue. He reached up and found Jevon’s hands, squeezing them tight, keeping his mouth around Jevon’s dick even as Jevon yanked on his arms.
Flipping around was seamless, like they’d done it a thousand times. They lay on their sides, swallowing each other whole, tasting, testing . . . pushing closer to the precipice where one of them would break.
But Rhys pulled back before they fell and crawled up the bed until he found Jevon’s mouth with his own again. They kissed like drowning men, rolling over and over again, before Jevon dug his heels into the mattress, caging Rhys against him in his sinewy arms. “Like this.”
It took Rhys’s Jevon-addled brain a moment to compute. Then it sank in. He wants me to fuck him. A million emotions warred in Rhys’s crowded soul. The prospect of taking Jevon’s thick cock inside him had kept him awake more nights than he cared to admit. He wanted it. Craved it. But he needed this more. Needed to be inside Jevon, to feel his tight, wet heat clamping around him, shielding him from the real world if only for one more night.
He found their trusty bottle of lube and drove his fingers into Jevon, searching out the live-wired spots he’d already committed to memory, his mouth once again sealed around Jevon’s dick, Jevon’s leg draped over his shoulder. He worked Jevon until his body trembled, his limbs quivered, and his moans became unintelligible.
“Rhys,” Jevon gasped out. “Please. I need you.”
I was born needing you. I just never knew it. Rhys tore his mouth from Jevon’s cock, wiping it with the back of his hand. In the darkness of the room, Jevon’s eyes gleamed, the fire in them matching the inferno in Rhys’s blood. “Do you want me to use a condom?”
“No, fuck no.” Jevon shook his head. “I wanna feel you.”
Rhys’s pulse stuttered. He’d been around the block more times than he could count, but never bare. Never naked to the sensation of hot pulsing flesh against the hardness of his throbbing length. “I want to feel you too.”
Sliding inside Jevon came like drops of mystical rain after a lifetime of drought. Inch by inch, breath by breath, the burn of intrusion faded from Jevon’s face, then the bliss came. The wonder. The hit of pleasure that eclipsed any drug you could buy on the street.
Rhys bit down on the ecstasy already roaring in his ears and fucked Jevon slowly, revelling in the sensation of Jevon clamping down on him, his legs a vice around his waist. He kissed Jevon deeply and tangled his fingers in his hair, gripping the black headscarf that was somehow still in place, fighting oblivion as his balls tightened to the point of pain.
He groaned and bit Jevon’s chest. “You feel so good.”
Jevon thrashed his head from side to side, his eyes clenched shut. “It’s all you, baby. Fuck me harder.”
Rhys obeyed, thrusting into Jevon with strokes that grew braver with every twist of his hips. The sofa bed shunted rhythmically across the floor, mattress squeaking. Rhys clutched the back like it could tie him down to the world, but just when he feared he’d lost his grip, Jevon ripped his hands free and rolled them over, straddling Rhys’s waist.
“You said this was the best.”
“It is,” Rhys managed hoarsely. “But it’s all fucking insane with you. It’s never been like this.”
Jevon stared Rhys down as he took his dick inside him again. “You’ve never fucked anyone else like this?”
“Never—oh god, Jevon. Ride me, please.”
Rhys’s incoherency seemed to gift Jevon the confidence he deserved. He impaled himself on Rhys’s cock, then set a torturous, mind-blowing pace with slow, barely there undulations of his hips, grinding down with every crazy-hot trip around the block. His dick slid along Rhys’s clenched abdomen, gliding through the lube and precome that seemed to be everywhere, and his eyes closed, his mouth hung open, and Rhys knew he was gone. Los
t. Climbing so high he might never come down.
He wasn’t alone. Rhys was with him for every shudder and moan. Every ripple of pleasure that threatened to free-fall them into a vortex so hot it scared even Rhys.
Jevon ground down harder, faster, and Rhys rose up from the bed to meet him, slamming into him until Jevon relinquished control. Rhys rolled them over again, keeping Jevon tight against him so his dick stayed buried inside him, then he let go—in every sense—and fucked Jevon the way he’d imagined the very first time he’d caught his shy gaze in the crowded bar.
Skin slapped skin and moans tangled in the air. Rhys rose up on his knees, Jevon’s legs clutched to his chest, and a clean slate appeared between them—like this was the beginning and not the end. White noise fizzed in Rhys’s brain and his body short-circuited.
Jevon jack-knifed from the bed in a perfect arch, sweat glistening on his skin. Rhys’s name fell from his lips and a guttural shout ripped from his chest. “I’m gonna explode, I swear. Fuck!”
Rhys upped the pace of his thrusts to punishing, and something snapped. Jevon gripped his cock, jacking himself in time with Rhys’s dick sliding home, and everything began to unravel.
“Rhys, I’m—”
Rhys cut him off with a fierce kiss, only ripping his lips away when his own orgasm knocked him off balance. Heat flooded every part of him, and his release pulsed out of him, filling Jevon with wet heat.
But every shockwave of pleasure paled in comparison to the innocent beauty of watching Jevon come. Of witnessing him come apart at the seams. Head thrown back, Jevon let out a gravelly cry, and his dick erupted, painting them both with hot come. The tendons in his neck strained, and his body convulsed, and for long moments it seemed like neither one of them would ever stop coming.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Rhys covered Jevon in kisses, then he fell slack, panting as Jevon clung to him, his heart hammering against Rhys’s chest, his body trembling.
There is nothing else.
Only this.
Only him.
Rhys fought for breath and eventually found enough to draw back and brush Jevon’s dreads off his face. “Okay?”
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