by Emy Calirel
Jerome did as requested, but he didn’t pull away. He played with Trevor’s hard cock and balls until all Trevor knew was pleasure. He kept Trevor on the edge, made his toes curl and his heart beat wildly.
Trevor almost lost it when Jerome pushed a finger into him. Jerome took his time, and when he added a second finger, curling them just right, Trevor started to beg. He pleaded for more and not yet. He desperately wanted to come, but also for this feeling to last forever.
Trevor didn’t know if he screamed, didn’t know if he came down Jerome’s throat or not when his orgasm finally crashed over him. All he knew was the overwhelming, almost painful pleasure making his body tremble and his senses sing.
“Goddamn, Jerome,” Trevor said, his voice rough. “Come here.”
Jerome looked smug when he came face-to-face with Trevor, his lips red and eyes gleaming. He bent down for a kiss, which Trevor deepened immediately. He could taste himself in Jerome’s mouth, and he closed his arms around him, keeping him close.
Jerome was still hard, his erection rubbing against Trevor’s hip as he moved, looking for friction.
“I want you to fuck me,” Trevor said against Jerome’s lips. “I need to feel you in me.”
Jerome nodded and pulled away, leaning over Trevor to open the drawer of his nightstand. Trevor reluctantly let him go, reaching for Jerome’s hard cock instead and stroking lightly. Something fell and Jerome groaned.
“You need to stop right now if you want me to fuck you.”
Trevor was tempted to continue, but he wanted Jerome in him more.
A condom and small bottle of lube in hand, Jerome sat back on his knees between Trevor’s legs. He looked down Trevor’s body, his gaze intense, and Trevor couldn’t remember ever feeling so wanted. Jerome was gorgeous, his lip caught between his teeth as he rolled the condom on, his cheeks flushed and hair disheveled.
Trevor shifted to roll onto his stomach, but Jerome stopped him, a hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t. I want you on your back.”
It was a relief. As much as Trevor liked to be taken from behind, his arms still felt like jelly, and he wasn’t sure he could hold himself up. He raised his knees for Jerome to settle between, before locking his ankles behind Jerome’s back. Jerome’s arms shook as he pushed into Trevor, his eyes tightly shut. It was clear Jerome had to restrain himself, but still he went slowly, giving Trevor’s body time to adjust. Trevor trailed his nails down Jerome’s back, making him arch into the touch, so beautiful in his pleasure, Trevor couldn’t look away.
“I want you so much,” Jerome groaned, his thrusts slow. “I want to make you hard again, but I can’t….” He moaned and lowered his face to Trevor’s neck, his fingers digging into Trevor’s skin where he held his shoulders. “I want to come in you so badly.”
Trevor tightened his legs around Jerome. “Come on,” he said, pushing his hips up, meeting Jerome’s thrusts. “Fuck me. Take what you need.”
Sweat broke on Jerome’s skin as he moved faster, and teeth replaced lips on Trevor’s neck as Jerome chased his pleasure. Every move from Jerome sent a thrill through Trevor, and if he knew he wouldn’t get hard again so soon, it didn’t dampen the bliss.
Jerome came suddenly, almost quietly, biting Trevor’s skin hard enough to bruise. His whole body tensed and spasmed before he relaxed. Trevor uncrossed his legs, putting them back down on the bed, but he kept his arms around Jerome, their spent bodies flush together.
“Sorry for the bite,” Jerome said when his breathing slowed, his voice muffled by Trevor’s skin.
“I don’t mind.”
Trevor trailed his hands down Jerome’s back, relishing the quiet moment and Jerome’s weight on top of him. Sex had never been this good before. With Ronan, it had been about finding a quick release. Trevor always had to scrabble for a connection. Had to hope he had given Ronan enough pleasure for Ronan to rest between his arms for a moment before pulling away.
It was different with Jerome. Sex between them was about giving and taking. About finding pleasure in making the other one find his own. It was mixing sex and feelings, and it was terrifying.
Chapter 10—Jerome
JEROME WOKE up to Trevor drawing slow patterns on his back. The soft touch made his skin tingle, and he sighed deeply. He wanted to stay there forever.
“Morning,” Trevor said, kissing Jerome’s shoulder.
Jerome smiled and opened his eyes slowly. “I was almost afraid you were just a dream.”
“Nope. You’ve got me for the whole day,” Trevor whispered, closing the gap between them.
Two more rounds of sex the previous night had left them exhausted, and Jerome felt amazing, his body satisfied and his mind quiet. With Trevor’s hands on him and Trevor’s lips against his own, the outside world hadn’t caught up with him yet.
Eventually Jerome had to get out of bed to relieve himself. When he came back to the main room, Trevor was crouched, still naked, in front of his suitcase. Jerome couldn’t help checking him out. Strong back and muscular ass, he was a sight.
Trevor caught him looking and a faint blush rose on his cheeks.
“Mind if I take a shower?” he asked.
“Make yourself at home. Towels are under the sink.”
“I remember.”
Jerome laughed when Trevor purposefully swayed his hips on the way to the bathroom. He closed the door with a wink, and Jerome shook his head, putting his lustful thoughts aside.
“IT SMELLS amazing,” Trevor said when he came back out ten minutes later.
Jerome stood in front of his old beat-up stove, cooking their breakfast. “I usually just eat tartines with honey in the morning, but I wanted to be fancier today.”
“I only had french toast once before.” Trevor leaned over Jerome’s shoulder to smell the food. “I loved it.”
Jerome flipped the toast in the pan. “If you had it in a big fancy hotel, mine won’t compare.”
“No. It’ll be better.”
Trevor reached for a piece of the already-cooked toast stacked on a plate.
Jerome whacked his hand away with the spatula.
“Flattery will get you nowhere. And no eating before it’s ready. I’m almost done.”
Trevor slipped his hands under Jerome’s shirt, caressing his stomach.
“You’re gonna make me burn breakfast,” Jerome warned, shivering.
Trevor chuckled and nipped his neck before he backed off. “Tell me where everything is. I’ll set the table.”
“Plates, cups, spoons, sugar, coffee.” Jerome pointed, already missing Trevor’s presence behind him.
“What’s the plan for today? Did you need to do anything?” Trevor asked.
He moved around the kitchenette easily, and Jerome marveled at how natural it felt to have Trevor there.
“Quentin asked if he can meet you tomorrow to talk about that asshole supplier. If you don’t mind.” Jerome flipped the last toast onto the plate before bringing it to the table. “Otherwise, today I’m all yours.”
“Lucky me.”
“Anything you want to do or see in Brussels?”
“A lot of things. I haven’t been to the Atomium yet, or the European quarter. And I saw there’s a park with miniature European capitals too. Today is probably not the best time, though,” Trevor said, glancing at the window. Rain pelted down against the pane, the sky so dark they had had to keep the lights on.
“Another time.”
Jerome didn’t want to think about this weekend being a one-off, and he was relieved when Trevor nodded before biting into a slice of toast.
Trevor closed his eyes and moaned. “Damn, that’s good.”
“Family recipe,” Jerome said, starting on his own breakfast. “What else do you have on your list?”
“I still want to visit the Comics Center. Maybe we can do that this afternoon?”
The food turned to ash, and Jerome put it down. He cleared his throat and forced himself to keep his sudden emotions
in check. “Sure, if you want to.”
Sadness must have shown on his face anyway, because Trevor frowned. “We don’t have to go. I’m happy to do whatever. We can stay here all day if you prefer.”
“No, we should go.” Jerome avoided Trevor’s searching gaze but forced a smile to his lips. “It’s a great place.”
BECAUSE THE weather was so bad, they decided to stay in and have a lazy morning. They were watching TV, sitting close together on the love seat, when Trevor’s phone pinged. He reached for it and his face fell.
“Sorry. I need to call him back.”
Jerome stopped Trevor from getting up. “What’s happening? Everything all right?”
“It’s just… it’s a colleague from work. I have to call him back.”
“It’s the weekend. Can’t it wait till Monday?”
“It could be important.” Trevor stood up and reached for his shoes, not looking at Jerome. “I’ll call him back outside.”
“What? Why? Wait!”
Jerome stood up to stop him, but before he could try to talk Trevor into staying inside, the front door clicked shut.
Caught between worry and anger, Jerome turned the TV off. He wasn’t sure which feeling was warranted, which made him feel worse. Was Trevor seeing someone else, or was he having troubles at work? Was he hiding in shame or fear? And what was he hiding? Thoughts bounced around in Jerome’s mind, and he started to pace, wanting Trevor to hurry up so he could get an explanation, and afraid he wouldn’t like it.
When Trevor finally came back, Jerome’s heart was pounding, his fists clenched at his sides. He turned to the door sharply, ready to ask for answers, but froze when he saw the hurt in Trevor’s eyes.
“The fuck were you thinking going out there to phone?” Jerome cursed. He strode to the bathroom and came back with a dry towel only to find Trevor standing just inside the door, looking miserable. He was soaked, his shirt plastered to his skin, and hair dripping on his face.
“You should change before you get sick.” Jerome threw the towel at Trevor before he went to make a cup of coffee.
“Going out there was stupid,” Trevor said quietly. “It wasn’t even a conversation that you couldn’t hear.”
Jerome slammed shut the coffee maker’s lid. “Then why did you leave?”
“Because I….” Trevor hesitated. When Jerome turned to face him, his anger vanished. Trevor looked like a kicked puppy, his shoulders down and lips tight. “I hate the way he makes me feel or act. How much he impacts me. I didn’t want you to witness my reaction, but I just ended up making an ass of myself.”
“You kind of did, yeah. What is it about that guy that makes you so upset?”
Trevor slumped into a kitchen chair. “It’s not a story that shines a good light on me.”
“Making me feel like the lover you need to hide in the closet didn’t shine a good light on you either.”
Trevor winced, his attention fixed on the towel in his hands. “I wasn’t hiding you.”
Jerome waited for Trevor to continue, but a heavy silence fell between them, only interrupted by the coffee maker perking. Jerome was about to give up when Trevor finally spoke.
“Ronan’s my ex. We were together for four years and he broke my heart.”
“He’s the reason Hannah brought you here?” Jerome asked, handing Trevor a fresh cup of coffee.
Trevor nodded. “We’re stuck working together now, and I only have myself to blame for it, but it’s tough.”
“How come?”
“He was getting more distant. Not that we were ever close, to be honest. It was unrequited love, and I knew it,” Trevor said, his fingers trembling slightly around the cup. “But I kept hoping he would love me eventually. Four years is a long time, and I knew for him it was just sex, but I wanted to believe it would lead to more. That maybe one day he would finally realize I was there and worth it.” Trevor scoffed and rubbed his eyes, his head down. “I was such an idiot.”
His voice broke, and Jerome couldn’t help himself, he stepped closer and reached out, massaging Trevor’s neck while he found his composure.
Trevor cleared his throat. “When I got Valentina’s project, my first task was to build a team. Ronan works in advertising, so of course I chose him. He wasn’t the best suited, but I figured it would allow us to spend more time together. On the day I gave the names of who I wanted for the team to my boss, Ronan broke up with me. A week later, I saw him at my favorite restaurant with the new accountant. I knew then that we were through, but it was too late. I couldn’t change the team without a good reason. Since neither of us are out at work and my boss is against everything that isn’t straight and white, we’re stuck working closely together.”
“But you still love him, and it breaks your heart,” Jerome finished quietly, letting his hand fall to his side.
Trevor finally looked up, meeting his eyes. “I don’t love him anymore. I loathe him. He makes me feel used and ashamed, and every time I see him or have to talk to him, it reminds me what a fool he made of me.”
Trevor tentatively put his arm around Jerome’s waist, and Jerome willingly stepped closer.
“You can’t help who you fall in love with.”
Trevor leaned his head against Jerome’s chest, clearly seeking a hug Jerome returned.
“He ruined years of my life, and my self-confidence. I hate him for it, and for the impact he still has on me. I wish I didn’t care, but I can’t help it. I didn’t want to talk to him in front of you because I didn’t want you to think I’m an asshole when I told him off. And now I let him taint yet another thing in my life.”
“Next time he calls, feel free to tell him off in front of me. Now,” Jerome said, pushing Trevor away so he could crouch down and face him. “Was there a big problem at work or can it wait till Monday?”
“It can wait. Ronan is just terrible at making decisions on his own.”
“Good. Except in case of emergency, no more phone calls then. Deal? You’re mine for the weekend, and I don’t want that asshole to ruin it.”
Trevor glanced down at Jerome’s lips. “No more phone calls.”
“Good man.”
Jerome leaned closer to kiss him. He had intended just a brief brush of lips, but when he tried to pull away, Trevor held him still. His hands in Jerome’s hair, Trevor licked along Jerome’s bottom lip and Jerome opened for him. He went to his knees to keep his balance, instinctively grabbing for Trevor. Jerome felt hot, his body reacting to Trevor’s clear arousal, and before his mind caught up with the action, he started unbuttoning Trevor’s drenched shirt.
Trevor moaned into the kiss, his fingers tightening almost painfully in Jerome’s hair. Jerome was losing control and he broke the kiss.
“You should take off your wet clothes before you get cold,” he said.
Trevor frowned, clearly caught between confusion and disappointment.
Jerome tried to keep up the pretense, but he quickly lost his battle and grinned. “And then get on my bed.”
He got up and took his shirt off, throwing it at Trevor.
“SEEMS LIKE there’s a good restaurant near the Bank Museum,” Trevor said, looking down at his phone. “Two Michelin stars and great reviews.”
The windshield wipers on Jerome’s car were on full speed to try to beat the pouring rain. The Comics Center had been crowded, and their two hours there had felt like an eternity to Jerome. Trevor had loved it, reading every panel carefully and taking his time. He had taken pictures of Tintin and Lucky Luke on his horse to send to Hannah, and gushed over the Smurfs display. The work going into drawing graphic novels had clearly impressed him, too, the wonder in his voice driving the knife deeper into Jerome’s heart each time he made a new comment.
“No.” Jerome took a sharp turn, wincing when Trevor bumped his shoulder against the passenger door and groaned. Lights were reflecting on the drenched pavement, making it hard to see. “We’re going for pizza. Small place, no stars. It’s cheap, delicious, and
the owners are good people.”
“I’m sure they are,” Trevor said, the light from his phone screen distracting Jerome, “but I wanted to treat you to a nice restaurant. Seafood and a good bottle of wine. Maybe a chocolate cake for dessert?”
Jerome tensed. “Treat me? I don’t need a sugar daddy, Trevor,” he snapped. “But I can’t afford your kind of place either. I know a restaurant that does great moules frites if you feel like seafood.”
Trevor finally put his phone away. He shifted to look at Jerome.
“I don’t understand what your problem is with my pick. I’ll be paying anyway since I invited you, so what does it matter?”
Jerome’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. He had to consciously unclench his jaw to talk. “Moules frites or pizza. Those are your options,” he said curtly. Guilt immediately raised its ugly head, and Jerome cleared his throat. He didn’t want to be rude, but the museum had left him feeling raw. He wanted a low-key dinner, not a reminder of how broke he now was. “There’s also a Japanese place near me if you prefer.”
When Jerome glanced at Trevor, Trevor was looking out the window.
“Will the Japanese place have sushi?”
“Yes.”
“Good sushi? I don’t want to get food poisoning.”
Irritation immediately replaced guilt. “Yes, good sushi! Just because the meal doesn’t cost a hundred euros, doesn’t mean the quality is bad.”
Trevor didn’t answer, the tension in the car thick. A pedestrian ran across the road, and Jerome slammed on the brake with a curse. Trevor slapped his hands against the dashboard as he jolted forward.
“Should I be apologizing for something?” Trevor asked, finally breaking the heavy silence.
He seemed genuinely confused, and Jerome forced his body to relax. Trevor didn’t deserve the treatment he was getting.
He reached out and put his hand on Trevor’s thigh. “No. I’m sorry. It’s not you, okay?” He glanced at Trevor before refocusing on the road. “I just don’t feel like dressing up and wincing at price tags tonight. I promise the place near my apartment is great. The chef is Japanese, and he gets his produce fresh from the fishmonger next door. It’s quiet and cozy, and I really think you’ll like it. Even if it doesn’t have any Michelin stars.”