Return to Sender

by Ashlyn Kane

  “When have I ever…,” Emerson started, but he cut himself off with a groan when Jonah sucked the head of his dick into his mouth. He tried again. “Exactly how many times were you planning—?”

  Jonah hummed consideringly, resisting the urge to smirk as Emerson gasped and fell silent. When he pulled off to answer, he kept his hand moving slowly on Emerson’s cock. “I don’t know exactly. How many times can you come in one night? I’ve been meaning to find out.”

  “How is this my life?” Emerson wondered aloud.

  Jonah ignored him and went back to the task at hand. Mouth. Whatever.

  “You’re supposed to”—Jonah took him deep, and Emerson gurgled before finding his voice again—“supposed to be fucking me, remember?”

  Did Emerson think Jonah was going to forget? Not likely. “I will when I’m ready. More importantly, I will when you are ready.”

  “But—” Emerson started.

  Jonah rubbed his thumb in a slow circle around the head of his dick, vaguely amused. “Exactly who is it you think is in charge here?”

  After that Emerson just moaned and let Jonah get on with making him come his brains out. At least once to take the edge off, Jonah figured, and, if he were honest, to turn Emerson into putty; he was much less prone to fits of anxiety after Jonah had sucked him into incoherence. To that end, he slid his hands under Emerson’s ass, massaging the firm muscle as he licked down the column of flesh. He could have slipped a finger into his mouth, wet it to slide between Emerson’s cheeks, but he was saving that until….

  Emerson bucked under his mouth, panting and moaning as Jonah flicked over the head of his dick with his tongue. Usually Jonah drew out Emerson’s climax until he was literally begging, but he had other plans for tonight. Emerson would have lots of time to beg for what he wanted later. Instead he let Emerson thrust down his throat and swallowed around the head of his dick until he came, panting loudly and cursing, body rigid, and then he was quiet and wordless and pliant.

  Emerson was still breathing hard when Jonah tapped him on the hip. “Turn over.”

  “Jonah….” Emerson was trembling, again or still Jonah couldn’t be sure.

  “Trust me,” he murmured, kissing the top of Emerson’s right thigh.

  With a little more coaxing, Emerson turned over, and Jonah devoted his attention to caressing the smooth plane of his back, easing away any tension. He pressed his lips to the back of Emerson’s neck and mouthed down his spine, hands framing his sides. “I love you like this,” he said huskily, dropping a chaste kiss on the dip of his oblique. “The way you go all pliant after you come. It’s a pretty good ego boost, Emerson.”

  Emerson murmured in agreement; from his tone he wasn’t turned on again yet, but that would change. Jonah shifted his palms inward and sat up a bit, played with the curve of Emerson’s ass with his thumbs, skated a teasing touch across the skin where thighs and buttocks met, pressed his mouth to the top of one cheek.

  Emerson’s breath hitched, and Jonah smiled into his skin. “I should—stop then,” Emerson said a little unsteadily.

  Jonah licked sideways across the top of his ass. “Oh?”

  Nodding into the pillow, Emerson continued, “Your ego—is already”—Jonah sucked the flesh into his mouth, teething it lightly, and the last word came out as a mostly incoherent sigh—“huge.”

  There was no way Jonah could be expected to ignore a perfect setup like that. “’S’not the only thing about me that’s big, Em.”

  He felt Emerson laugh a little, but before he could retort, Jonah pushed up and out with his hands, exposing Emerson’s hole to his view. Emerson tensed again, but Jonah leaned in before he could mount a protest and flicked his tongue over the pucker of skin.

  “Oh,” Emerson said, a soft explosion of air. “God, Jonah,

  what—”

  Whatever he was going to say was lost in a broken sob when Jonah repeated the action, pulling Emerson open further and just going for it, tongue swirling and prodding and stabbing at Emerson’s opening.

  “Fuck,” Emerson mewled. “Oh, God, J—fuck!”

  Murmuring his agreement, Jonah moved his hands in again. “Hold yourself open for me, Em.”

  “Jonah—”

  Jonah pressed the thumb of his right hand over Emerson’s hole, pushed just a little. “Do it, Emerson.”

  The wet gasp Emerson made at that was mostly eaten by the pillow he had mashed his face into as he shifted on the bed, quaking. Jonah put one big hand on the small of his back to steady him and grabbed his dick with his other hand, stroking gently as he worked his tongue inside.

  The sounds Emerson was making were pure vowels now, just meaningless expressions of extreme pleasure. Jonah released his cock to wet a finger in his mouth and slid it deep alongside his tongue, pushing and stretching at the muscle until it was loose. He fumbled one-handed in the drawer beside the bed, and it was a good thing they’d started buying lube in bigger bottles, because he didn’t want to spare a second looking for it.

  The second finger slid in easily, followed quickly by a third, at which point Jonah had to sit back a bit and just watch as his fingers disappeared, reappeared, over and over again. Then he curled his body low over Emerson’s back so he could whisper in his ear. “You’re beautiful like this, Emerson. Open and trusting and so turned on.” Emerson thrust his hips down against the bed, and Jonah readjusted himself so Emerson couldn’t move, could only take what Jonah gave him, bumping purposefully against his prostate every time he pushed inside.

  “Please,” Emerson sobbed, his eyes closed, cheeks bright red.

  Jonah brushed a kiss lightly across the top of one flushed cheekbone. “Soon,” he assured him. “Let me take care of you.”

  “Jonah.” Emerson bucked beneath him, and Jonah sucked at a spot on his neck. “Please! Don’t—don’t make me beg.”

  Jesus. Jonah had to remind himself to be good; the list of things he liked more than hearing Emerson begging for him was extremely short. “You wanna come, Em?” Emerson whined. Jonah worked his fingers harder, faster, licking a line up Emerson’s neck to his ear. “Let go, then, sweetheart. Come for me.”

  Curling his hands into his sheets, Emerson did, convulsing hard around Jonah’s relentless fingers, mouthing a steady litany of, “Jonah, Jonah, oh—”

  Jonah needed to kiss him right now, but he also—he cursed his lack of foresight—he also needed to take his jeans off before they cut off the circulation somewhere important. He stood just long enough to kick off the rest of his clothes and then rolled Emerson over so he could thank him properly, one long, deep kiss and then a trail of sucking bites down his chest again.

  “Jonah. If you b-blow me again I will fucking—”

  Jonah never did find out what Emerson would fucking, because when Jonah lapped at the mess covering Emerson’s soft cock he stopped threatening and started thrashing. “Oh, God, Jonah, don’t,” he whimpered. “I can’t, I can’t—”

  “Never know ’til you try,” Jonah said philosophically, though he was careful to be gentle. He knew how sensitive Emerson would be, so he concentrated his initial efforts on cleaning the come from Emerson’s stomach, then his balls, before carefully working his way up his dick.

  That was too much, apparently; at the first twitch of his cock, Emerson shuddered all over and sat up, pushing Jonah away so he could reach into the nightstand for a condom, which he thrust into Jonah’s hand roughly. “If you don’t get inside me in the next thirty seconds, I am changing my mind.”

  Jonah looked down at the seemingly innocuous packet and swallowed hard as the stark reality of the situation hit him all at once. In a few seconds he would be inside Emerson.

  Now is not the time for performance anxiety, he reminded himself firmly, ripping open the package quickly and rolling the condom on.

  Thankfully, Emerson saved him from a truly embarrassing crisis by turning around on the bed.

  “What are you doing? Come back here.” Jonah flipped him ove
r easily, crawling up Emerson’s body until their faces were centimeters apart. At least he could be sure that Emerson was at least twice as nervous as he was.

  Emerson licked his lips. “I thought—”

  “I want to see your face while I make love to you for the first time,” Jonah said, a little more honestly than he meant to. He bit the inside of his cheek in an attempt to rein in his emotions.

  Emerson said, “Oh.” His hands were shaking a little when he passed Jonah the lube, but Jonah wasn’t really in a state to comment on it. He slicked his erection and shifted forward another inch.

  Then he was pressing inside one micrometer at a time, one hand curled firmly around the base of his cock. With the other hand he reached for Emerson and tangled their fingers together, gripping tightly. True to his word, he never let his eyes slip from Emerson’s face, though he desperately wanted to look down and see, watch himself disappear inside Emerson’s body.

  It was tight—God, of course it was, Emerson was practically a virgin, and Jonah wasn’t exactly small—and gut-wrenchingly hot, and maybe Jonah should have thought about the fact that he’d been hard enough to pound nails for an hour before fucking Emerson, but there was no going back in time. “Talk to me, Emerson. You want me to stop?”

  He really, really didn’t want to stop, but Emerson was being quiet for once, and that had Jonah worried.

  Emerson shook his head, bit his lip, shifted his legs—and all the breath went out of Jonah in a rush as Emerson bent at the knee and pulled him in until their bodies were flush together. “God, Emerson, Jesus,” Jonah cursed, taking Emerson’s other hand as well and leaning down to kiss him slow and deep, pouring out his love and affection until he could practically taste it on Emerson’s lips. His dick was throbbing so hard he had to start saying the alphabet backward in his head to get control again. “That talking thing,” Jonah reminded him, pulling back gently. “You’re supposed to do it with your mouth, Emerson.”

  “Just… give me a minute.”

  That wasn’t a bad idea. Jonah could use a minute to collect himself too. He kissed him again, just a soft touch of his lips this time, on Emerson’s mouth and jaw and ear. He released Emerson’s left hand to rub soothingly down the side of his body a few times, then up his thigh and down again until he had Emerson’s cock in his hand.

  Emerson turned his head away like he was embarrassed.

  “Hey,” Jonah said softly, kissing his cheek as he started to move his hand. “This isn’t exactly a hardship, you know.” He kept his face there until Emerson turned his head again and met his eyes. Then he amended, “Not to make a terrible pun or anything,” and shifted his balance just a tiny bit to get a better grip.

  Emerson opened his mouth, presumably to say something, but what came out was a low, satisfied-sounding moan. There was no mistaking the timbre for anything other than pleasure, and it was all the encouragement Jonah needed to draw his hips back, pulling out almost to the tip. He couldn’t help but look down as he did so, seeing Emerson’s hole spread wet and slick and wide to accommodate his length, his hand wrapped around Emerson’s cock, hard again under his fingers.

  “Aw, Christ,” Jonah groaned.

  The breath went out of Emerson in a rush when Jonah pushed forward again, and he made another one of those insanely sexy sounds he seemed to have an endless supply of and arched his body up a little. “God, if you could see yourself,” Jonah breathed.

  Another thrust, then another. Emerson closed his eyes, lips parted and glistening slightly; Jonah licked them, pushed his tongue into his mouth. “Love the way you feel.”

  Emerson shuddered.

  Okay, Jonah thought. Let’s have some more of that. Shifting both hands to Emerson’s hips, he sat back, angling his hips until—

  Emerson gasped, his eyes flying open. His hands latched onto Jonah’s forearms. “Jonah. God.”

  Emerson met him evenly on the next thrust, legs wrapping around Jonah’s waist, and Jonah felt the pleasure of it all the way through. “You like that?”

  Stupid question—Jonah could see the answer, had had it in his hand a second ago—but he never could shut up. “So good for me, Emerson, I wanna make it good for you too, but you gotta tell me.”

  “More,” Emerson gasped between moans.

  Jonah thrust deeper.

  A hot, desperate sound forced its way past Emerson’s lips. “Hard-harder.”

  Christ, Jonah didn’t want to hurt him, but it would be so good, and if he was asking for it—

  “Yes,” Emerson said, half-whine and half in triumph. “God! Jonah, I lo—”

  Fuck, fuck, fuck, Jonah wanted to hear him say it more than anything, but now was really not the time. He leaned down and kissed the words from Emerson’s mouth as he reached between them to put his hand on Emerson’s dick again, smearing the small amount of fluid at the head and using it to ease his way down the shaft. It was hardly enough, but it didn’t seem to make a difference. After half a dozen strokes, Emerson bit Jonah’s lip hard enough to draw blood as his body seized around Jonah’s cock, all tight, fluttery heat.

  Jonah held on for maybe another three strokes, and then it was too much. He pulled his stinging lips away from Emerson’s as his orgasm tore through him, setting fire to every cell in his body and then pouring out of him in a rush as his dick pulsed again and again, leaving him hollowed-out and boneless.

  After a few seconds he reluctantly moved over, pulling out of Emerson’s body so he could dispose of the condom and catch his breath. Or kiss Emerson again. Kissing Emerson was better than breathing anyway, so he did, gently, until Emerson finally opened his eyes again.

  “There you are,” Jonah said with a small smile.

  Emerson’s color was still high, and he was feeling a little vulnerable, if the way he dropped his eyes was any indication, but he reached out and put his hand on Jonah’s chest above his heart, so that was something.

  Jonah took a deep breath and told himself to be brave. “If you mean it,” he said, “now would be a good time.”

  Emerson took a sharp breath.

  “I mean,” Jonah continued around the lump that was trying to form in his throat, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve kind of been head over heels in love with you for years.” Maybe he’d been wrong? Maybe Emerson hadn’t been about to say—

  “Me too,” he said before Jonah could get any further. He was blushing furiously now, but he managed to meet Jonah’s eyes. “I mean, I—I love you.”

  And Jonah knew that, he did, had known it for almost a year, but hearing it was different. Better. So good that he actually didn’t have anything to say—if he could have spoken. Which he wasn’t sure he could.

  “Are you—” Emerson said cautiously after a minute.

  “Shut up, there’s something in my eye,” Jonah told him, and fuck the mess—he wrangled Emerson around until he was lying on Jonah’s chest and held him there until he fell asleep.

  §

  JONAH paused at the door to Emerson’s room for the first time in weeks, feeling twitchy. Emerson was stretched out on his bed, head propped up on his left hand, a pencil dangling from the fingers of his right arm. There was a sketch pad lying on the bed near his hand, but Emerson wasn’t paying it any attention. He seemed to be staring aimlessly into space.

  Jonah knocked softly on the open door, and Emerson looked up with a smile. “Hey!” He dropped the pencil and flipped the sketch pad shut, leaning up to place them on the dresser.

  “Hey.” Taking the invitation, Jonah entered and dropped down onto the bed beside his boyfriend, catching a quick kiss as he did so.

  Emerson’s mouth opened warm and sweet under his, but Jonah kept the touch just this side of serious. He didn’t want to get distracted.

  “What’s up?” Emerson asked a few seconds later when he pulled away, reaching one hand up to brush his fingers over the crease between Jonah’s brows. “You look so… pensive.”

  “Good word,” Jonah said with a quick
smile, taking Emerson’s hand in his own and giving it a squeeze.

  “Well, I learned from the best.” Emerson turned so that he was on his side, facing Jonah. “Now, talk.”

  Jonah rolled onto his back and looked up at the ceiling, reaching his right arm so that it wrapped around Emerson’s shoulders, pulling him closer to Jonah’s chest. “A couple of Natalie’s friends are getting a house together in September. I guess one of her friends’ dads owns a place he rents out here in Austin or something.”

  “That’ll be nice for her,” Emerson said after a hesitant moment. “I mean, Natalie’s pretty mature and responsible….”

  Smiling slightly, Jonah turned his head and pressed a kiss to the top of Emerson’s head. “Yeah, no, of course. It’s just, their parents all want to have a man around the house, you know? I think they’re worried the girls might get taken advantage of or something. And I guess I’m sort of the prime candidate.”

  “Well, you’re big and intimidating as well as taken and kind of gay,” Emerson pointed out, lifting his head to smirk at Jonah a little. “You’re pretty ideal for the job of protecting their daughters’ virtue.”

  That was, Jonah had to concede, a fairly valid point. But that didn’t mean he had to like the idea. “I guess.”

  “And trust me,” Emerson said, “it’s much better to move in with roommates you already know. Greg will be back in a few weeks, and he’ll need his room back. School will be starting soon. You need to have this figured out by then, or you’re going to be stuck driving back and forth. And that sucks.”

  Jonah made a face. Emerson was right about that. “I know. I guess I was just thinking….”

  “That could be dangerous,” Emerson teased. “Go on.”

  “Well, it’s not like I actually sleep in there anyway,” Jonah hedged. “And why should I when there’s a perfectly good bed across the hall with you in it?”

  Emerson’s expression took on a guarded quality, and he shifted so that he was lying on his stomach, propped up by both elbows. “Are you hinting at what I think you’re hinting at?”