Accidentally On Purpose

by J. M. Snyder

  Jim grinds his hips into Alan’s. Propping his chin on Alan’s chest, he stares at Alan with a faint smile on his lips. There’s something predatory in his gaze, something hungry, that makes Alan’s dick stir with anticipation.

  “What’s that look for?” Alan asks.

  Jim breaks into a wide grin. “Fuck me.”

  Alan’s cock twitches at the request, so raw in Jim’s gravelly voice, so immediate. So demanding. No please, no would you like to, just the command, fuck me, never doubting how much Alan wants to do just that.

  But when he tries to roll them both over, Jim sits up and slaps his belly. “Uh-uh. Like this, with me on top.”

  “I’m not as young as I once was,” Alan reminds him.

  Jim isn’t having any of it, though. “You’re not as old as you claim to be, either. Don’t tell me you can’t still fuck up?”

  That gets a laugh out of Alan. “Yeah, yeah, I hear you. How’s this going to work, exactly?”

  Jim takes Alan’s dick in hand, then pushes his own down beside it, encircling his fingers around both. “Lube me,” he says. No, orders. When Alan doesn’t move fast enough, he squeezes their dicks together, sending a delicious sizzle through Alan’s entire body. “Sometime tonight.”

  “Yes sir, Detective.” Alan squirts a healthy dollop of lube on the twin purple cockheads and watches it drizzle down, over and around and under Jim’s fingers, greasing them both. “Say when.”

  “When, when!” Jim laughs as he swats away the bottle. “Save some for the main event. That’s all I have.”

  Alan gasps at the fingers plying his cock. “Better buy some more.”

  “Now that I have a reason to, I will,” Jim assures him.

  Alan watches his hands as they massage and knead, rubbing up and down their dicks, slathering both lengths. He thrusts his hips, a throaty moan escaping him. “Speaking of the main event…”

  “Oh, you better hold it in.” Jim gives Alan’s dick a playful tug. “This isn’t a one-man act here.”

  “Then let’s get the show on the road.” Alan squeezes the bottle again and, this time, it sputters into his hands. “Uh-oh.”

  “There’s enough,” Jim assures him. “There has to be.”

  Releasing their dicks, Jim rises up on his knees and reaches behind him. He grabs his buttocks and, from the way he bites his lower lip, Alan knows he must be rimming himself, breaching his hole with lube-slick fingers.

  “Hey, hey!” Alan grabs Jim’s hips and pulls him closer, hands sliding around Jim and under his hands to cup his cheeks. “This is my job.”

  “Then do it.”

  Leaning forward, Jim plants his hands on either side of Alan’s shoulders and arches his back to press his arse into Alan’s palms. He’s right above Alan now, heat and lust radiating off him, igniting the air between them. Alan loves the look of pleasure on Jim’s face as he fingers Jim’s tight hole, eliciting gasps from the man above him. When Alan’s forefinger slips into him, Jim rests his forehead against Alan’s and pants in quick, short bursts that tickle over Alan’s cheeks. “Yes,” Jim huffs, and, “God, yes, yes, God.”

  “Did you just call me God?” Alan murmurs as he works his fingers into Jim, scissoring them, widening him.

  Jim replies with an eager kiss. “Hush up and fuck me already, will you? I’m begging here.”

  “You hush.” Alan pulls up, spreading Jim’s buttocks apart, and Jim scoots forward off his thighs, his cock brushing over Alan’s lower belly. “Where are the condoms?”

  “God!” Jim cries in frustration. “Who cares? Fuck me!”

  But he sits back and groans with delight as he impales himself on Alan’s fingers. “Sweet Lord,” he sighs, blindly patting around for the box. He hits it with the back of his hand and it skitters away, threatening to go over the side of the bed.

  Luckily he catches it before that can happen. He tears into the box, ripping it apart as condom packets scatter across Alan’s chest. With a laugh, Alan teases, “I only need one.”

  Jim grimaces as he tears into a packet with his teeth. Then he’s slapping Alan’s hands away and scooting back, grabbing Alan’s cock and rolling the condom down onto the thick length. Alan grips Jim’s hips as he positions himself, reaching between Jim’s legs to help guide him in. Alan’s cock butts up against Jim’s hole and, for one heart-stopping moment, he doesn’t think he’ll get it in before he comes. He’s so close…

  Then Jim sits down, easing onto Alan’s dick. The pressure is delicious and immediate, and Alan sighs as Jim takes him in, all of him. “Jesus,” he whispers.

  “There you go, forgetting my name again.” Jim plants his hands on Alan’s waist and locks his elbows as he leans down, heavily, lifting himself up and letting Alan’s cock slide out a little. His sphincter constricts, working at Alan as he sits down again, taking Alan in as far as he can.

  They move gingerly at first, finding each other, remembering the sting and burn, the tightness and crush. But soon Jim sets a fast pace and Alan is just as eager, hurrying to keep up. With his hands fast on Jim’s hips, Alan thrusts his hips, pushing into Jim, the two of them racing to release.

  It doesn’t take long. He feels a familiar clench in his arse and balls, and he grips Jim so tightly, his fingers leave red marks on Jim’s skin. “Coming,” Alan says, breathless. “I’m coming. I’m sorry, I can’t hold it back.”

  “Okay, okay.” Grabbing Alan’s shoulders, Jim bucks above him. Riding him. “It’s okay. Come on, come on, come on.”

  Together they strike a quick, steady rhythm. Above Alan, Jim punctuates each movement with short, breathy gasps. “Yes, yes, yes,” as he sits back, rocking on Alan’s cock. “Yes, yes,” as one hand strays to his dick, pulling it to release. “Yes, yes, God yes,” as he comes.

  Alan’s a breath behind, holding Jim down and thrusting up into him. Before he knows it, he climaxes with a force he didn’t think he could still achieve. Every muscle tightens as he comes, only relaxing when he’s all spent.

  Then Jim lies down on him, curling against him, also finished. Tucking his hands under Alan’s waist, Jim sighs happily and snuggles closer. Between them Jim’s erection fades. Alan also softens, still inside his lover.

  Lover. Alan likes the sound of that.

  After a few moments, their heartbeats still hammering against each other, Alan laughs, breathless. “God, I hardly lasted at all.”

  “Hush,” Jim tells him, kissing one pert nipple.

  Surprisingly, Alan’s limp dick twitches with interest. But Alan doesn’t have another round in him, not tonight. He runs a hand through Jim’s hair, patting it down, and admits, “I don’t ever remember feeling this out of breath before. God, my heart is racing.”

  “I feel it. Mine, too.” When Jim speaks, his words rumble through Alan’s chest.

  Alan sighs, more worn out than he thought he’d be. “I guess I really am getting old.”

  Jim sits up enough to kiss him quiet. “Not where it counts, trust me. That was everything I hoped it would be.”

  Alan has to agree.

  Chapter 17

  It seems like hours later when Alan opens his eyes, suddenly awake. He’s tangled in bedsheets and the scent of sex lingers around him. The bedside lamp still throws its golden circle, but beyond it the rest of the room is dark, undefined.

  Jim dozes in Alan’s embrace, clinging to him, arms tight around his waist, head buried against his chest. His faint breath stirs the hair on Alan’s chest. As carefully as he can, Alan raises his left arm behind Jim and brings his right arm around so he can press the light button on his watch. He has to crane his neck to see the time over Jim’s disheveled hair.

  Then he sits up fast, shocked out of any lingering sleepiness. “Fuck! I have to go.”

  Jim snuggles into Alan’s lap, arms around his waist now, breath threatening to tickle awake his dick. “Mmm, stay here,” he murmurs sleepily.

  As tempting as that sounds, Alan knows he shouldn’t. He runs a hand over Jim’s
hair to smooth it down, then carefully extracts himself from Jim’s embrace. “Can’t, mate. I got to get home.”

  Jim groans into the pillow. “What time is it?”

  Alan frees himself from the bedsheets and starts feeling around on the floor to find his discarded clothing. “After midnight. Almost one.”

  That earns him another groan. Jim fists the sheet up under his chin as he blinks awake. “It’s too late. Come back to bed.”

  “I can’t.” Alan stops his search to lean over and brush back the hair from Jim’s forehead. He kisses Jim’s brow, which creases in consternation as he stands.

  Before he can move too far away, a hand shoots out from the covers to clamp over his wrist.

  When he looks at Jim, he’s surprised to see his lover now fully awake, all traces of sleep gone. With a grin, Jim says, “Don’t leave me.”

  “I don’t want to,” Alan tells him, “but Brooks is home alone.”

  Jim rolls onto his side, pulling Alan’s arm closer. “You said he wouldn’t burn down the house.”

  “Yeah, but there’s a lot of other stuff he can do.” When Alan twists his wrist, Jim lets him go.

  “Like what?” Jim rolls onto his back and pulls the sheets up to his chin, giving Alan large, puppy dog eyes and a sad, exaggerated frown. “He’s probably in bed asleep. Like we should be.”

  “What if his girlfriend’s there?” Alan finds his briefs among the clothes on the floor and stands unsteadily first on one leg, then the other, as he pulls them on.

  Jim counters, “What if she isn’t?”

  Alan comes back with, “What if we do this at my place next time? Then I wouldn’t have to leave.”

  “I can come with you now.”

  There’s an impish gleam in Jim’s eye, and for a moment Alan toys with the idea of taking him up on the offer. But if Brooks finds Jim at the house in the morning, what sort of example will that set for the boy? Bringing a guy home on the first date?

  Jim said it himself, Alan reasons. It doesn’t feel like a first date, for either of us.

  But Brooks doesn’t know that. And at fourteen, he probably wouldn’t understand it, either. Alan’s the only father figure the lad has, the only male role model, and he doesn’t want to give the impression that he’s rushed into anything, especially since he hopes he and Jim will be in it for the long haul.

  Pulling up his trousers, Alan buckles his belt and weighs his words. Then he sits on the edge of the bed and smooths a hand down Jim’s leg under the blanket. “I’d love that, really,” he says softly, squeezing Jim’s thigh. “But there’s Brooks to think of. I don’t want him to get the wrong impression.”

  “What, that we fucked on the first date?” Jim asks, amused.

  Alan smirks. “He doesn’t have to know that, does he?”

  Rolling his eyes, Jim mutters, “Fine. We’ll do it your way…this time. But I’m coming home with you next time. You said I could, and I’m going to hold you to that.”

  “I can’t wait. Come here.”

  Alan leans in as Jim leans forward, and he presses his lips to his lover’s, savoring the kiss.

  “I had a wonderful time tonight,” he murmurs against Jim’s mouth. “And I’m serious. I can’t wait to do it again.”

  Jim kisses him again, harder. “Tomorrow, then. Or wait, it’s after midnight? Tonight. If you don’t have any other plans.”

  With a laugh, Alan admits, “I don’t. But I have to get home and get my beauty sleep or you won’t want to be around me later, I promise.”

  “So go.”

  As Alan stands, Jim kicks off the covers, exposing the lean, nude length of his body. It’s his crotch Alan’s gaze is drawn to, and the thick length nestled in the curls of dark hair. He can remember all too clearly the feel of Jim’s dick along his lower belly when they lay together, or hard between them when they had sex.

  Now he reaches out and traces a finger down the veined length, smiling when it twitches at his touch. “Are you trying to tempt me?”

  “I don’t know,” Jim says, a playful tone to his voice. “Is it working?”

  Alan wraps his fingers around Jim’s cock and gives it a gentle squeeze. “I’m tempted, yes,” he admits. Then he leans over to claim another kiss. “But I still have to go.”

  “Fine, whatever.”

  Jim slides off the edge of the bed to squat on the floor as he digs through his discarded clothes. Alan’s mostly dressed now, just buttoning up his shirt, and he enjoys the sight of Jim’s bare backside. Turning over his pants and shirts, Jim growls, “Where are my undies?”

  Alan sees them—they’re hanging on the edge of a dresser where Jim tossed them on his way to the bathroom. Before Alan can point this out, though, Jim turns and stands in one fluid motion. “You’re wearing them.”

  Alan lets out a surprised grunt. “I am not!”

  Then Jim’s hands are at Alan’s waist, unbuckling his belt. “Lemme see.”

  “I’m not.” But Alan raises his arms and lets Jim unzip his trousers, then pull the waistband of his briefs through his fly. As Jim leans down for a closer look in the dim light, Alan says, “I can see your briefs from here.”

  “Yeah, because you’re wearing them.” Jim snaps the waistband against Alan’s belly. “Come on now, take them off.”

  “These are mine.” Alan nods at the dresser. “Yours are over there. You’re just trying to get me out of my clothes again.”

  Tugging the waistband a second time, Jim grins as he pulls Alan closer. “Is it that obvious?”

  Alan unhooks Jim’s fingers from his briefs and rezips his trousers. “Didn’t we say tomorrow?”

  “It’s already tomorrow,” Jim points out. “We said tonight.”

  As Alan rebuckles his belt, he says, “I never imagined you’d be like this. I mean, I’ve only ever seen your detective face but this…I don’t know what it is, really, this—”

  “Neediness?” Jim offers with a laugh. “I get that way after sex. Sorry. I’ll be back to my usual stoic, ice king self in the morning.” To prove his point, he gives Alan a stern scowl.

  Amused, Alan shakes his head. “I hope not. I kind of like this version of Jim Garrison.”

  “Then I’ll keep hold of it,” Jim promises, “but just for you. Now if you’re really going to go—”

  “I am,” Alan assures him.

  Jim plucks his briefs off the dresser and tugs them on. “Then let me at least walk you out.”

  * * * *

  Out in the hallway, Alan waits while Jim digs through the coat closet. His jacket rests over his arm, but Jim’s looking for his phone, which was tossed in unceremoniously after Brooks’ text interrupted their kiss. Alan thinks about saying something, maybe offering to look for it himself or asking Jim to call it so they’ll hear it ring, but to be honest, he quite likes the view. Jim didn’t bother putting on anything other than his briefs, and staring at his cotton-white arse is well worth the wait.

  Finally Jim stands, holding the phone aloft. “Jesus! Here it is. Sorry about that.”

  When he hands it over, Alan says, “You know, we could’ve called it from your phone to find it.”

  “Now you tell me. But no, I silenced it, remember?” Jim closes the closet door and leans back against it. “Give me another kiss.”

  Alan obliges. Then he pulls on his jacket and tucks his phone into his pocket, discreetly checking his messages as he does so. There are none. “Should I call you tomorrow?”

  “If you don’t, I’ll call you.” Jim fists his hands in Alan’s jacket and reels him in. “Give me another.”

  This kiss is just as smoldering as the last.

  “So you won’t forget,” Jim says.

  Alan trails a finger down Jim’s smooth cheek. “As if I could. One more for the road, what do you say?”

  One turns into two, which turns into three, then four. Alan reaches blindly behind him for the door to Jim’s apartment because he doesn’t want to be the first to pull away. Finally Jim st
eps back and Alan manages to get the door open. When he steps out into the hall, Jim says, “Call me.”

  “I will,” Alan promises. “Maybe I can have you over for dinner, how’s that sound? A nice roast with jacket potatoes, some sprouts on the side, maybe a salad.”

  Despite being dressed only in his briefs, Jim steps over the threshold and folds his arms across his chest. “Hold up. What kind of potatoes?”

  Alan frowns. “Jacket, you know, with the skin on.”

  “You mean baked potatoes.” Jim laughs. “Jacket, I like that. What are sprouts?”

  Shaking his head, Alan grins. “Come on now, mate. Don’t be dense. Sprouts, Brussels, you know. Little cabbages. Unless you don’t fancy them.”

  “No, no, they’re fine.” Jim plants one last kiss on Alan’s lips. “Have I told you yet I love the way you talk? Because I do.”

  Alan chases that kiss with another. “Well, on that note, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Drive safe,” Jim says softly. “I had a really good time tonight.”

  “Me, too.”

  As Alan heads downstairs, the ghost of Jim’s lips lingers on his.

  Chapter 18

  It’s colder than Alan thought it’d be outside. He hurries to his car, hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched against the slight wind blowing down the quiet street. When he gets in, he cranks the heat even though all that comes out of the register is frigid air. Suddenly he wonders what the hell he’s doing, leaving Jim’s warm bed for his own empty bedroom. What kind of idiot is he?

  Call him. He’ll come. I can tell Brooks his car broke down, he slept in the guest room, something. Just don’t leave him now. We had a great evening, why does it have to end already?

  He fingers his phone, debating. He pictures Jim throwing on a coat and racing downstairs in his undies and nothing else. Hopping into Alan’s car, breathless, the night’s chill clinging to him like cologne.