_Anthology - Mr. Right Now

by _Anthology

  That might be a good idea. There’s a lot less risk in that – and again Gero ducks under a fist. His friend would calm down, would probably be satisfied and able to overcome his inner tensions and contradictions.

  Gero locks eyes with Jason. He sees a green-eyed wolf, snarling and struggling for first place in the order of ranks. An alpha male, demanding submission from his opponent – from Gero.

  Let him win?

  NO.

  Not on your fucking life.

  Gero’s never been a violent man. But there’s a primal instinct lurking within him that comes to the fore.

  He can’t – won’t – give in to Jason. Gero dances aside to avoid taking another hit, but realizes this tactic won’t help him much longer. His patience is slowly fading, and he’s quickly running out of ideas to peacefully diffuse the volatile situation.

  Perhaps… Gero falls down. Jason’s own momentum makes him stumble and he lands on top of Gero. He grabs Gero’s wrists and pulls them down to the ground. His face is inches away from Gero’s, the eyes throwing green-gold sparks of triumph.

  Gero’s never seen his friend’s face so furious and wild, his rugged features expressing hatred, power, and euphoria, and God, he’s beautiful…

  “Now, surrender, Ge…hmmmpf…” Gero’s tongue in his mouth ruins his victory speech. Gero’s head shoots up, driving his tongue between Jason’s lips and he sucks, licks… ahhh... Jason tastes salty and sharp from the fight, he could poison himself with an oral overdose of testosterone from that kiss, and Gero nearly forgets his plan, because he’s finally kissing Jason. He’s kissing Jason… Jason… Jason….

  Thankfully, his brain enters the wicked stage again, like Judas thinking of betrayal while kissing. He fumbles for one of the belts – he has made sure his fall went in the right direction, just near the heap of clothes.

  Jason will not beat any records with his reaction time. Frozen in shock by Gero’s kiss for several seconds, now he jumps as if bitten by a snake, and Gero catches him unaware, hurling him down and catapulting himself over him.

  While sliding forward, he raises Jason’s arms over his head and wraps the belt tightly around them, grateful that the “little book of knots” comes in handy.

  Jason rants and rages now, but with his hands bound, it’s no real fight. Gero finds the other belt – and okay, that a thin tree stands nearby is pure luck, but you have to be lucky sometimes – Gero throws one end of the belt around the tree and binds Jason’s hands to it.

  Jason kicks and writhes into exhaustion until the slim leather cuts his wrists, until the veins on his biceps swell to bursting and his hair clings in strands on his wet face.

  Jason collapses, tired, worn out, panting helplessly. “Do that again,” Gero purrs, very approvingly. “It’s nice to watch.”

  “Untie me, you sick bastard! You asshole! Let me go! That’s unfair! That’s deprivation of personal liberty!” “I would classify it as self-defense.” Gero strokes his bruises accusingly and pats gingerly at his hurting ribs where Jason’s fist hit like a comet.

  “Fuck! Let me free!” “I would consider the first option,” Gero muses out loud, causing another fierce struggle from Jason. The blonde man squirms and writhes. Once he sees the look of cool amusement on Gero’s face, he forces himself not to move.

  Jason would be damned if he’d give that damn bastard something else to get hot and bothered over. His eyes are haunted like the eyes of a wild animal caught in a trap, but Jason’s desperately trying to control his temper. Gero watches, fascinated, at how Jason’s eyes seem to change their color with the emotional roller coaster, turning from raging hatred to shame for the suffered defeat, from panic to resignation, from defiance to humiliation.

  “Gero, please. Untie me,” Jason pleads softly with a rough and breaking voice.

  Gero looks at him like a predator sizing up potential prey. Jason’s body shivers from pent-up frustration, shaking from boiling rage like the lid of a pot clattering before the heated water spills over in founts.

  He shuts his eyes, and Gero bets he’s focusing on meditation techniques like before the penalty kick in a suddendeath playoff after overtime, to calm himself and slow down his heart rate.

  Gero has never seen anything in his entire life that compares to the glorious sight of this strong, proud man bound. A captured hero. The pathetic suffering of a noble chief at the stake. Gero approaches him cautiously, watching for signs of danger. He sees Jason tense up even more as if preparing for a last attack.

  “Kick me and you’ll pay for it,” he warns, his voice low and cold. “I don’t think you need me to explain that you’re at my mercy now. One stupid move and I’ll whip you.”

  Jason growls, clinging to some last shreds of rebellion, but they both know it’s an empty threat. Gero crouches between his legs, like during the partner gymnastics, now confident that Jason will not try anything. He leans over him.

  It takes every ounce of willpower Jason has to hold himself down, trying to avoid Gero’s searing gaze.

  Gero reaches out, touching his cheek gently. “Jason. You know that I know.” Jason tries to look as if he hasn’t a clue what Gero is talking about. But Gero can see the truth in the lambent green orbs. He even knows that Jason knows he cannot deceive him.

  “God, Jason, you were so hard I’d probably have felt it through plate armor.” He bows down a little closer and continues in a low, seductive murmur, “And so was I. You know that, too. Isn’t it foolish to deny that to each other?”

  Jason doesn’t answer. In fact, he doesn’t react at all. He even seems to have forgotten his situation and his urge to escape, lying perfectly still and calm.

  “I’m not a beginner, Jason,” Gero goes on, stroking him lightly, tantalizing the other man’s senses. “I’ve seen the heat in your eyes when you look at me and think no one else is watching. I know that look, Jason. I’ve been with enough men to know what it means.”

  Gero leans down for a kiss, but Jason flinches away, wrenching his head to the side. Gero takes hold of his face with both hands, cradling it with a gentle force that will not be denied.

  “Look at me and tell me it’s not true. I hope I don’t have to remind you that you never lie.” Jason gives a desperate sigh – Gero never knew such a simple sound could contain so great a confession – and he smiles at Jason with fondness.

  Gero slowly starts to kiss him again, tenderly and playfully exploring Jason’s mouth. Jason doesn’t do much in the way of returning the kiss, but there’s little resistance. Only when Gero begins to kiss his way down Jason’s throat, following the curved line of his collarbones to his shoulders, leaving a trace of wet kisssteps and little sizzling spots where he sucked until Jason’s blood rose to the surface, Jason finally interrupts him with a choked voice.

  “Stop it… Please.” Gero gazes at his friend’s face and is filled with compassion as he sees the battlefield of contradictory feelings that war with each other. It’s more than indecision; Jason is literally torn apart inside. Minutes ago, he was insane with rage, but it was a rage partly born of suppressed desire, and now the feelings bait and switch like a disoriented magician who can’t make up his mind in which shape to appear.

  He doesn’t quite stop stroking Jason, massaging his sides with deft hands, already sure - whether Jason’s mind likes it or not

  - that Jason’s body is joyfully joining the game.

  “Gero, perhaps it’s usual for you to feel this way, but for me…” “Really?” Gero asks quietly, struck by the sheer helplessness in Jason’s eyes. “Never once?” His voice is full of affection and respect and wonder, and maybe it’s the fact that Gero doesn’t make light of his inexperience that finally convinces Jason to let him continue his kissing research mission once more.

  Gero acquaints himself with the parts of Jason’s skin he missed during his first descent, making sure not to ignore a single inch; Jason trembles and sighs from the intensity, his former anger and rage melting quickly into lust like a gl
acier into a roaring waterfall.

  Jason hisses quietly as Gero opens his jeans and pulls them down, freeing an achingly hard cock. His cock certainly doesn’t lie, Gero thinks to himself, soft eyes swallowing the length and breadth of Jason’s erection. And Gero goes down, licking and sucking, tasting all of Jason’s musky male flavors.

  Jason groans in desperate need. “Please, Gero. Untie me,” he begs, as if remembering his situation for the first time. “I want to touch you.”

  Gero’s mouth slowly travels upwards, celebrating a short reunion with Jason’s navel and nipples.

  The two men lock passion-filled eyes. “Only if you really want me to, Jason,” Gero whispers, lying stretched out on top of Jason, full of urgency and hunger. “But, please, Jason, let me have you like this…”

  Pulsing desire nearly strangles him, lust glowing in his ocean-dark eyes as the image of a bound and naked Jason is forever seared into his mind.

  His voice is ragged and husky. “Oh God, Jason, it turns me on to see you like this, tied down and naked in front of me.” Jason lowers his lashes. Gero senses shame, but no outrage. His body language reveals awkwardness – the virginal flush, the way he averts his eyes from Gero’s – and the contrast between these gestures of shyness and innocence and the rough beauty of his manly face is thrilling.

  Gero’s desire is so powerful it’s almost frightening. A part of Jason wants to deny his request, but the refusal hovers there, just on the threshold of his lips, unwilling to formulate the words under Gero’s intense stare. Jason opens his mouth, shuts it, and tries again, takes another go, but after several failed attempts the battle within is over.

  Jason returns Gero’s demanding gaze with a mixture of fear and trust.

  Surrender has never had such a beautiful face before. Interesting, Gero thinks to himself in the span of a few moments, how practical matters always reinsert themselves ruthlessly into romantic situations.

  “Hang on a minute, love,” Gero whispers, and disappears into the house, to rummage through drawers and return with a bottle of lube.

  Very funny, Jason thinks with a certain wry irony, as if he had any other choice. With Gero no longer covering him, that undeniable heat no longer clouding his senses, Jason’s fears and doubts once again rise to the fore, though intrinsically he knows the arguments against his feelings are weak.

  Still, what his body wants, he doesn’t quite understand. He does desire Gero. He has for a very long time, it seems, but… But the panicked look in his eyes will not melt away so easily and by the time Gero returns from his quest, he realizes what happened.

  Gero’s glad he left him tied up, otherwise the man would have vanished on him. Isn’t it possible to leave the boy alone for even a minute?

  “Gero – untie me,” Jason begins again, and can’t he ask anything else? “I’m just not ready for this. I can’t. I can’t.” Shit, Gero curses silently, having managed to get so far only to watch it all unravel right before his eyes and having to begin again like some fucking game of dice.

  “Jason.” and Gero covers him again, hunting for the rest of his patience which has disappeared the moment his libido took over practically every rational thinking process. “You have thought of it before. You know you want to try. Why not now?”

  Gero takes up his caresses again, first with gentle persuasion and then with tender demand. He prays he’ll do it right and not blow it all with a mistake; do it well, not too fast or too slow.

  Never has he wanted anyone as much as he wants this rough, golden-haired man laid out before him like a feast. Somehow he has to make Jason want him just as much or else it will all be for nothing and he will feel like a complete flop for the rest of his life. What use is it to have successfully picked up every single chance for a goal when you fail in the most important moment of your life?

  Gero’s hands are all over Jason, and he’s whispering soothing words in his ear, “I’ll go slowly, Jason, don’t be afraid. I want you, Jason, please…”

  Ironically it’s Gero who’s pleading and begging a tied-up man, but he doesn’t give a damn as long as it works.

  After a while, he feels Jason relax. Eyes meet again, and Gero is relieved beyond imagination, because he doubts he’d have the discipline to release Jason at this stage, even if he insisted, and he really doesn’t want to think too long on that scenario.

  But he wants to hear Jason confess. “Say the words.” And Jason does, shaking from desire. “I want you, Gero,” he groans, the green eyes heavily lidded with uncontrollable need. The floodgates open and there’s no turning the tide. “Get on your hands and knees,” Gero orders.

  Jason maneuvers into the required position and both are thankful the restraints have enough give for this to work. Jason’s well-muscled buttocks are a temptation Gero cannot resist, and he strokes the smooth skin while using a lubed finger to lightly probe the cleft.

  A faint cry from Jason, muscles already clenching. God, Jason’s so damn tight, to prepare him means work. Gero uses his arm to wipe the sweat off his forehead Okay, he’s done this before, he knows what to do; it shouldn’t be an insurmountable handicap after all the trials and tribulations he’s overcome in the last half an hour, and since Jason said he’s a virgin, what did he expect? If only he wasn’t so nervous, like some candidate for exam who’s forgotten all he’s ever learned.

  Gero goes slowly, opening Jason up to new sensations, stroking and soothing him, whispering words to inflame and incite. With each gasp from the man beneath him, he pauses, allowing Jason to adapt and adjust.

  He stretches him expertly, carefully, one finger only, murmuring, “Relax, Jason. Feel me inside you, like this, yes, come on…”

  Jason obviously has other ideas. Craning his head over his shoulder, he snarls at Gero, “I’m not a nag shying or running wild, mate! Can’t you just shut up and do it?” If Jason was a horse, he could be ridden a hell of a lot easier, Gero thinks, then he ceases to think at all as the image of giving Jason what he’s asking for nearly undoes him.

  “Is that what you really want, Jason?”

  “Yeah, Gero, just do it…”

  There is no way to enter Jason without hurting him, at least at first, in spite of the preparation and the generous amount of lube he’s used to slick himself up and to coat Jason’s entrance.

  He has to push hard to force Jason open and get in just a few inches. The sensation of tight heat is overwhelming. Though he doesn’t want to hurt Jason, he can’t help moaning a deep shuddering breath of pleasure even as he feels Jason twitching with pain beneath him, quietly whimpering.

  Hands gripping Jason’s waist tightly, he waits, allowing Jason to accustom himself to the fullness. Jason moans, the outer ring muscle contracting, unsure about this invasion. He relaxes, taking in deep breaths as Gero slowly breaches him.

  Slowly and evenly, as much for his own benefit as for Jason’s, Gero begins a steady rhythm with strong but not brutal thrusts, his hand stroking Jason’s cock as he trembles beneath him.

  Gero can sense the moment of Jason’s surrender. A sudden softness and pliability washes through Jason’s body as if his muscles and nerves, every fiber of his being were connected to Gero’s central nervous system, no longer obedient to Jason’s will, but Gero’s. He feels totally in control of Jason and a rush of lust for power floods his veins, more intoxicating than any drug Gero has ever sampled.

  Yes, he will possess Jason, in every way possible – heart, mind, spirit, just as he possesses his body now. He will have him, claim him…

  He looks down again at Jason, bound to him, begging with his sighs and hot whispers, and lust flickers within him like tongues of flame. But there is no thought of abusing his power. He needs to please Jason, to hold him, to love him, to make him want it, want it again, and want it forever and ever again.

  He strikes Jason’s sweet spot over and over, urged on by Jason’s deep-throated moans of pleasure. At the same time, he strokes his cock with calculated pressure, making Jason last,
longing, starving, until every single cell in Jason’s body screams for orgasm and he’s begging, not only with passion-ragged words, but with his whole body, offering himself to Gero completely, feverishly shaking with need.

  Only then does Gero show mercy, finishing him with one last forceful surge, and Jason is gone, crying out and coming so hard he shoots hot onto Gero’s hand and on the grass below him, whispering Gero’s name again and again until the last splashes and drops are spent.

  Now it’s suddenly so easy to bend him even further, spread his legs wider, fuck him deeper.

  “Down.” Gero’s hard hand shoves his face down in the grass, holding him fast. He has the perfect angle to fuck Jason practically into the ground, and there’s nothing Jason can do about it.

  Only one thought, one want left – to fuck Jason, fuck him, fuck him in his tight ass, fuck his hot clenching hole… take him, take him, take him…

  The force of Gero’s orgasm causes him to cry out from the sheer magnitude of sensation that tosses him about. He comes hard and deep in Jason’s body, collapsing on him and bearing him down with his weight.

  Spent and almost drained, Gero starts to rise from Jason’s back. “Stay,” whispers Jason.

  Gero hesitates, unbelieving.

  “I like to feel you on me,” Jason says simply, and as Gero covers him with his body again, he sighs, satisfied, like a child rocked into sleep.

  THE game is going on in full action, and so far Jason is doing well, the coach admits to himself. The relief changes to concern and tension again as he watches with baited breath how Jason tricks one opponent after the other, storming forward on the left wing, while Gero keeps pace in the center field, intelligently making use of the gaps in the other team’s defense.

  Jason passes by his attackers elegantly, dancing with acrobatic skill. The whole stadium is death-silent with awe, everybody’s attention is utterly absorbed by Jason’s incredible performance. He sends the ball… the cross shoot comes in, following an ideal line, the exact segment of a circle… The coach’s lower jaw simply drops. Is that the same Jason who couldn’t get one single cross shoot right only yesterday? The ball and Gero meet at the perfect point, he barely does more than hold his foot out… and goal!