by Peter Styles
Jeremiah stood there, his face gone entirely the shade of a beetroot. “You will soon,” he croaked out, and then covered his face with one hand. “Oh, god. That was terrible.”
“Yeah,” Chris agreed. “It really was. Maybe you should come back and try again.”
Jeremiah turned around, clearly taking his advice seriously. Chris laughed and reached out, catching the other man by the shoulder and turning him back around. “Jeremiah. Please. Come in.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to interrupt anything.”
Even while he spoke, Jeremiah was walking into the apartment and looking around. Chris did so as well and caught a glimpse of his surroundings from the perception of a newcomer. Nice furniture, terrible presentation. He winced. “Sorry about the mess. My maid is sick this week and, uh…”
Jeremiah ignored him, wandering over to the windowsill and picking up a figurine. Chris had a thing for mice. They were adorable, petite, and yet surprisingly athletic. They were his choice of pet as a child; although he no longer had time for animals, he still remembered fondly the way they used their little paws like hands, and the varied color of their furry pelts. The figurine was one of many mice-related objects he kept around his home, although this one was different in that it wore a pink tutu.
“Does this belong to your maid?” Jeremiah asked. He held the little brown mouse almost reverently, running one finger around the edge of the tutu.
“I have a confession,” Chris said. “There is no maid. I like mice. And dancing.”
“And horror movies.” Jeremiah set down the mouse again, adjusting its position with one finger. “You are a man of very peculiar tastes.”
“I think they call that being gay these days.”
The joke fell flat. Jeremiah didn’t even so much as crack a pity smile as he turned to face Chris, whose stomach went tense with nerves, although he immediately forced himself to relax again. Whatever happened was going to happen, and he had best accept it.
“You know, I thought a lot about some stuff you said,” Jeremiah began. “About taking stuff slow.”
“Alright. And?”
Jeremiah stepped in very close, looking up. Light from the floor lamp over in the corner slashed across his gaze, revealing deep rings of oak brown in those dark irises. “And,” he whispered, “I’ve decided that’s bullshit. I don’t want to take things slow. I want to… I want to be with you.”
There was so much weight behind those words. Immense weight. Chris’s heart swelled and his breath cut short. His eyes went wide. “You do?”
Jeremiah nodded. “I really do. I’ve never… had anyone treat me the way you do. It’s just… Chris, there’s stuff I haven’t been telling you.”
Chris nodded slowly. He realized that he had known that, even without having realized it. It seemed they both had secrets.
“And I need to tell you. I just… I don’t know how yet. It’s really important, and—”
If there was ever a time to interrupt, it was now. Chris reached out and placed his hands on Jeremiah’s shoulders, lowering his head slightly to touch their foreheads together. “Will it change the outcome?”
“Huh?”
“What you have to tell me. Will it change things in the end?”
Understanding dawned in those dark eyes. “It might. But it doesn’t change what I want. What I think you want.”
“Will not telling me be physically painful? Will someone be hurt, physically?” That was an important distinction, the difference between physical and emotional pain. If someone’s body was at risk, he couldn’t allow that to happen.
“No,” Jeremiah replied. “Not physically. Maybe not at all. It’s hard to tell. I think I know, and then I don’t.”
Chris nodded, pulling back slightly but not releasing the man in his hands. “Then, I’m not going to push you. I said I never would. I can encourage you, but I won’t push. This thing you have to tell me, you can tell me whenever you can. I’ll remember that you wanted to tell me sooner, and I will remember this conversation. I won’t hold it against you. I promise.”
Time dragged on for a moment before Jeremiah nodded. “Okay. As long as you promise to remember.”
“I will. Cross my heart.”
Warmth surrounded him as Jeremiah wrapped his arms around his neck, clinging on tightly. Their bodies lined up almost perfectly, which meant their hips were pressed together. Chris swallowed hard, his arms around Jeremiah’s waist. He willed himself not to think about what was right in front of him, within very easy reach. He willed himself to do better than this, turning a touching moment into something sexual. This special man in his arms deserved better.
“Chris? You’re poking me.”
He turned his head, blushing just as Jeremiah had when he first entered the apartment. Everything suddenly clicked together. “Isn’t that what you wanted when you came over here?”
Jeremiah looked down, but not before Chris saw a glimmer in his eyes. “Well, I was hoping the poking would be done in a bedroom.”
“Well, it’s right down that hallway. Walk in front of me, so I can look at your ass.” It was a different side of him coming out now, the side that picked up hot men at the park and took them home. The difference now was that he wouldn’t be seeing Jeremiah walk away from him when they were done, and that was equal parts terrifying and erotic.
Jeremiah gave a fleeting grin, eagerness and anticipation and worry in his eyes. He did just what Chris asked of him, heading off down the hallway. Chris grinned at the back of his head and then looked down, appreciating the way his ass moved beneath the fabric of his jeans.
“You know, I kind of miss that suit of yours.”
“Oh God, please don’t mention the suit. I had just managed to block that from my memory.” Jeremiah glanced into a doorway. “I see your bedroom is decorated in the same style as the rest of your house.”
“I’m nothing if not consistent,” Chris joked. He broke his gaze away from Jeremiah’s ass, which would have been difficult if he hadn’t decided to take his shirt off at that moment. Fabric blocked his eyes as he pulled his shirt up and over, throwing it to the side.
“Oh,” Jeremiah gasped.
Chris looked at him and smiled wide, breathing deeply because he knew it made his muscles flex. He always kept his body in good shape, although he never went overboard with it like that asshole Markus Worth. There was more to his life than an intimidating appearance, but he did like to look like someone who could be depended on. That meant, to him, being tanned, toned and confident.
He stood there now, enjoying Jeremiah’s attention and feeling his eyes like a physical caress. “Your turn.”
Jeremiah turned his head away slightly and grabbed at the hem of his shirt, tossing it away. Chris pulled in a deep breath, feeling his groin tighten and fill with heat. The front of his jeans tented out at the sight of the man before him, skin revealed like never before. Truthfully, Chris had seen better. A lot better. Jeremiah was thin and relatively undefined, with soft curves instead of hard angles. None of that mattered, however. What mattered was that the person he had feelings for was standing right in front of him, more exposed than he had ever been in Chris’s presence. That was enough for him.
It was enough, but he craved more.
“You’re wonderful,” Chris breathed. He moved forward and wrapped his hands around Jeremiah’s waist again, kissing him once more. He took his time this time, letting his tongue be played with. As their lips pressed together, he slid his hands around to the front of Jeremiah’s jeans and undid his buttons and slid his zipper down slowly. Jeremiah let out a very soft purring sound, arching his back slightly and letting his fingers slip up through Chris’s hair.
“I’m not that wonderful,” he breathed, as his jeans puddled on the floor.
Chris leaned into him and kissed him harder for only a moment, urging him into silence. “But you are,” he replied. His fingers went down beneath the other’s waistband, tugging his darkly-colored bo
xers down just past the curve of his hip and even lower. He encountered a soft trail of curly hairs that led to a thicker, coarser patch. And beneath that, softness again.
He brushed his fingers against the delicate skin of Jeremiah’s inner thighs, his groin. Everything in him ached to touch the prize right there, to take it and stroke it and make it his, but he took his time exploring the rest of him as far as he could touch. He played with those sparsely-haired thighs, and circled around behind to play with his ass cheeks and to slide a teasing finger between them. That made Jeremiah gasp and reach back, clamping his hands around his wrists.
“I’m not ready for that yet,” Jeremiah breathed.
Chris looked into his eyes and pulled at his lower lip, tugging on it. “But you want it?”
“Yes. I want it. I want everything.”
Chris held him tightly, feeling that hardness between them rubbing together. His swollen dick ached, trapped as it was still beneath his own clothes. “And it won’t be your first time?”
“No.” But Jeremiah looked up at him with eyes full of moisture, tears brimming. “But it will be my first time with you. And that makes it special.”
Tears pressed behind his own eyes at the words. “You’re special to me. You know that, don’t you?”
Beyond words now, Jeremiah nodded. And now that they weren’t speaking, Chris knew it was time to move forward with the rest of the show.
Releasing Jeremiah just enough to get his hands up between them, Chris slowly guided him backward and pushed him down onto his back on the bed. He stood there for a moment, taking in the form of the other with his legs spread, his dick erect, and every other muscle in his body trembling. Then he shed his own jeans and underwear until they were both naked. He saw Jeremiah blink slightly when he saw Chris’s dick, expression unreadable.
I wonder if he’s seen bigger, or if I’m nothing impressive.
Tossing his pondering aside, Chris planted his hands on the mattress and crawled up on top of Jeremiah. Their dicks pressed together between them, thighs meeting hard. He stayed where he was for a moment to let Jeremiah get used to his weight and presence, and then he held Jeremiah’s hands down on the mattress at his side and began.
He began where he suspected no other man ever had, using his tongue and mouth and lips to worship the other’s body. He kissed every place he could reach, running his tongue along curves and nibbling daintily at edges. His tongue curled around each nipple individually, savoring the texture and shape. He kissed the soft fuzz of dark chest hair, working all the way to that trail of hair further down. He treated each inch of soft skin as though he had never experienced such a thing before, but he bypassed Jeremiah’s cock again and paid attention only to his thighs and the area around it. His eyes were closed, fully immersed in the other’s changing scent and the feel of him.
And through it all, Jeremiah writhed and whimpered with gentle pleasure. His reactions were far more than what Chris’s actions called for, in his perception. The other man already seemed on the verge of shaking apart, he was so caught up in his own need. And the lower Chris descended, the harder that shaking grew. Jeremiah began to struggle, his back arching as his ass pressed down against the mattress beneath him. The tendons in his arms bulged, wrists jerking in an attempt to break free.
And then he did break free somehow, or maybe Chris let him go. They were, at that point, nearly one and the same. It was hard to tell what feelings belonged to whom, when their hearts pounded as one.
Jeremiah grabbed at Chris’s hair with his free hand. His eyes were glassy, gone sexy-hazy. “Stop teasing me,” he grunted. “I can’t take anymore. I’ll burst.”
“What do you need, honey?” Chris asked. He laid his cheek on the other’s thigh, letting his hot breath hit that rigid cock. He was certain that his own eyes were just as hazy, just as full of a need to move on. “Tell me what you want.”
“Uh…” Jeremiah suddenly moaned, his cock twitching.
Note to self: he likes sexy talk.
“Do you want your cock sucked?” Chris continued. He was aware of the fact that he was shaking now too. “You want me to suck you off?”
Two hands in his hair now, tangling. They pulled, trying to move him. Chris felt the direction in which he was being tugged and grinned, eagerly giving in to the demand. He snuggled his cheek over closer to Jeremiah’s dick, letting a hot gust of his breath precede his touch. His lips brushed against soft skin stretched taut over the hard, hot organ and then his tongue slid out between them to have a taste of salty, slickness.
Jeremiah squeaked.
Without moving his head, or his mouth, Chris looked up. Jeremiah bit his lip, his eyes shut tight with his eyebrows drawn together. He looked every inch a man who was struggling to hold onto his last bit of will. Resisting orgasm had never looked so beautiful.
“You can cum if you want.” Chris spoke with his lips moving gently up and down the length of that shaft. It was as thin as the rest of its owner, just the perfect size to go down his throat. “It won’t be the only time you do tonight.”
“I don’t need…”
Before Jeremiah could finish, Chris pounced. He slid his hands down beneath Jeremiah’s ass, lifting him up; at the same time, he brought his mouth around and up so that perfect cock would slam deep into his mouth and down the back of his throat. He was ready for it and accepted it eagerly, pulling it in as deep as it would go.
The half-finished sentence became a shrill cry. Ass muscles tensed in Chris’s hand, a shiver running up and down Jeremiah’s spine. The shiver became a spasm, and the spasm became a shuddering series of jerks that sent hot fluid down the back of Chris’s throat.
He took as much as he could and then pulled his mouth away from the softening organ to swallow what he’d managed to keep. The rest spilled down the corner of his mouth. Straightening up slightly, he looked down at his partner.
Jeremiah had gone slack and limp, his mouth slightly open as he struggled to catch his breath. When he managed to open his eyes, Chris grinned and then wiped away the dribble from the corner of his mouth with the pad of his thumb. Then, he licked his thumb.
“You’re crazy,” Jeremiah whispered. He closed his eyes again, still breathing as though it was a new concept to him. “You’re the craziest man in the whole entire world. I can’t believe…” He stopped, and then shook his head. “Chris…”
“Want to keep going?”
“Please? I didn’t know this could happen.”
For a moment, Chris had no idea what he was talking about. And then he realized that the other’s cock, limp and spent, was trying to rise and harden once again. Warmth rose up in his chest, forming a soft halo around his heart. He would get to keep his promise of cumming more than once after all.
He wrapped his hand around the rising cock, feeling it move within his grasp. “It won’t happen every time. But this is a special time, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
That was all. A simple yes. No embellishment needed. Chris liked that about the man beneath him.
And so he treated Jeremiah to another orgasm, stroking his cock until it was as long and hard as it would ever be. Veins stood out from the pale skin, blue streaks like beautiful tattoos; in contrast, the tip was angry red from pressure and aching need. Jeremiah gave up on speaking again, moaning and whimpering. His hips bucked to Chris’s rhythm for several minutes, the edge of his need having been taken off from before so that now he was able to actually enjoy what was happening to him.
Sensing that his companion needed a bit of help in getting fully over the edge, Chris gently slid a finger of his free hand between those supple ass cheeks. He explored gently, taking his time pressing against that soft spot between dick and opening before finding the other’s loosened pucker. Rubbing it softly, he didn’t try to enter.
He didn’t need to.
Jeremiah squealed, bucking even harder than before. This time, his hips stayed up, locked into position until he was done. He slumped
down then, and Chris knew that he wouldn’t be able to recover for another go at it.
So, he did what he wanted to do for a very long time, and curled up behind the other to wrap him in his arms and legs.
“What… about you?”
Chris smiled against the back of Jeremiah’s neck. He sounded so sleepy; so adorable. So innocent, exactly like a pure and sweet unicorn who had never known harm. At least, who had never known someone was attempting to harm him. “I can wait. Tonight was all about you and I… don’t want to rush things.”
“I’ve never cum so hard before,” Jeremiah admitted. His voice was shy, and Chris could see color creeping into his ears from his blush. “And never twice in a row like that.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
“Huh.” Chris kissed the top of his head and held him tighter. His chest ached at the sweetness of it all. Other parts of him ached as well, especially since he was denying himself, but he ignored those feelings. “Those other people you’ve been with must not have known how to treat their men.”
A lot of other men would have then spoken on their past experiences, but Jeremiah kept quiet. That told Chris there was more to the story, although he had already known that.
“What do we do now?”
“Now?” Chris chuckled and gave Jeremiah another kiss. “Now you go to sleep and maybe I’ll treat you to something else in the morning. Unless you’re going to leave me all alone in this bed?”
Jeremiah let out a soft laugh, which turned into a sigh. “I don’t think I could get up if I wanted to. Not with the way you’re crushing me.” He belied what he said by tucking his ass back against Chris’s lap, snuggling in even deeper into the embrace. Sleep was not long in coming, as his breathing slowed and soon became peaceful.
And still Chris waited, fully awake. He waited while Jeremiah sank deep into dreams, and then he waited even longer. Only when he had waited for as long as he possibly could did he finally move, slowly pulling away from the other man in his bed. Chris rolled over onto his stomach and lifted his ass up into the air. There was lube on the nightstand and he spread a liberal amount on his fingers before bringing them back to his own opening, and slowly pressing them inside. He brought himself off quickly, pushing his face into his pillow to stifle the sound and make sure Jeremiah didn’t awaken and feel guilty.