A Simple Truth

by Jamie Craig

  Bryce started the engine and put the truck into gear, exactly as he had done the last time he took Charlie out. Except, this time it was completely different. He had never been in the truck as anything more than just a good friend. But he didn’t know what they technically were now. Still just friends? Or were they already more?

  “Then maybe it’s just a natural talent. Because it sure doesn’t feel like you need more practice.”

  “Well, I think I need practice. But hey, if you don’t want to be my practice partner, I’m sure I can figure something out…”

  “I’ll be your practice partner and anything else you need.”

  “Good.” He smiled into the darkness, though his reflection gleamed against his window. They drove along in comfortable silence for a few minutes before he said, “Though you know, it doesn’t really feel like a first date. Dates are for getting to know one another, aren’t they? I think you know everything interesting about me already.”

  “Oh, I doubt I know everything interesting about you. For example, I have no idea if you’re a morning person.”

  The slight suggestion in his voice brought Charlie’s arousal back in full force. He was very glad he’d worn a suit that allowed a little more room to hide it.

  “I work at a bank,” he replied, ignoring the implication. “I have to be a morning person or I’m late. So now it’s my turn to find something out about you, right? Like…boxers or briefs?”

  “You know, it’s more fun when you to get to discover the answer to that question for yourself.”

  His smile returned. “Well, I can’t argue with that. The only downside is I have to wait until the date is over to get my answer.”

  “That’s not very fair, I guess. Commando when I can get away with it, boxers the rest of the time.”

  Charlie dared a glance sideways. “And tonight?”

  “No, that’s definitely an answer you’re going to have to find on your own.”

  Their shared chuckles felt good. Right. More comfortable than anything had a right to be. It was a relief to know they could joke about kisses and underwear just as easily as they could about barbecues and baseball. It made the rest of the drive to the restaurant all that much better.

  When Bryce pulled into the lot, Charlie looked the building over. “So Italian, you said?”

  “Yeah. You like Italian, don’t you?”

  “Love it.” He waited by the truck for Bryce to join them. “Are they going to freak out if we walk in like this?” To illustrate what he meant, he slipped his hand into the other man’s, curling their fingers together until they were interlocked.

  “No. This place is a lot like the bookstore. Gay friendly. I know the guy who is dating the head chef. I won’t take you anywhere you’ll feel uncomfortable.”

  “And dancing?”

  “They have a nice little dance floor and a guitar player on Saturday nights. I’m going to claim at least one dance.”

  “At least,” Charlie agreed.

  He let Bryce lead him into the cozy restaurant, wondering if he looked like a smiling fool. He couldn’t seem to stop. Everything about this night already felt like everything he’d always wanted; it boggled his mind to think Bryce had been there the whole time. He barely noticed the warm décor, the soft lighting making the dark wood fixtures glow. He simply followed where Bryce and the hostess led, not once letting his date’s hand go.

  Not one person they passed gave him the evil eye. Charlie almost sighed in relief when they took their seats.

  “So far, so good,” Bryce murmured as they settled at their table. He leaned over, giving a new air of intimacy to their tiny space. “I do want to apologize for the way I left last night. I just wanted to get that out there.”

  “You thought you were doing the right thing. And you were. So don’t worry about it. Tonight is about new beginnings and old friends.”

  Bryce smiled. “Good.”

  The waitress arrived and took their drink and appetizer orders. Charlie opted for wine, and expected Bryce to order a beer, but he requested nothing more than water with a slice of lemon.

  “I get insecure when I drink,” Bryce explained as their server left.

  Charlie’s brows shot up. “Trust me. You have absolutely nothing to be insecure about. I am hooked, good and proper.”

  “Maybe now, but that’s not the way I felt last night.”

  “Which we’re not talking about. We’re moving on.” He paused. “Unless you think we need to talk about it.”

  “No, no, we don’t need to talk about it. You’re right, we should move on. I just…still feel a little bad about it.”

  Charlie leaned closer. Beneath the table, his knee pressed into Bryce’s. “Please don’t. It’s my job to be the anxious one, remember? You’re the hotshot pro here. If you get nervous, we’re doomed.”

  “Honestly, I’m not a hotshot pro. I just wanted you to think I was. You know, so you’d be impressed with my obvious prowess.”

  “Well, it worked. And I found out firsthand about your prowess last night, so I say that makes us even. Okay?”

  Bryce inclined his head. “Right. We’re even. I still intend to make you get out of the house and have fun, though.”

  Laughing, Charlie sat back and unfolded his napkin into his lap. “We’re out. We’re having fun. I think your nefarious plan worked wonders.”

  “We’re going to have a standing date. Every Saturday night.” Bryce smiled. “I’ve had plenty of time to think about all the things I want to do with you. And at least a quarter of those things involve leaving the house.”

  A standing date. They already spent a fair amount of their free time together anyway—being single men in a neighborhood of families and older couples had long ago driven them in that direction—but this was different. This was deliberate. A statement of, “I want to ensure I have this time with you.”

  There was nothing Charlie could do but agree.

  The hours passed quickly. Conversation got easier once they got past the anxiety of the night before, and in many ways, it was like any other time they spent together. It was easy. Comfortable. The primary differences lay in contact. Charlie never moved his knee away from Bryce’s, and more than once, Bryce reached across to touch him, his hand here, the corner of his mouth when he had marinara sauce clinging there. Appetizers came, entrees came, and still, all Charlie wanted was more of him.

  When the waitress arrived to clear their plates, Charlie wiped his hands and mouth before placing his napkin on the table in front of him. “I’d like my dance now,” he said, rising to his feet. He held out his hand for Bryce, his skin suddenly hot. “May I?”

  Bryce took Charlie’s hand without further prompting. When he stood, he didn’t avoid invading Charlie’s personal space. A beat passed, and Charlie forgot where they were. He forgot everything except the sudden proximity of Bryce’s solid form and warm breath that smelled vaguely of garlic.

  They crossed to the small dancing area, walking side by side. Charlie glanced around the room, watching for anybody staring at him. But nobody stared. Everybody was too caught up in their own romances, their own highs and dramas.

  “My guess is that you’ll want to lead,” Bryce murmured.

  Everything came down to those brilliant eyes, gazing into his. “I want to hold you,” he said, drawing him close. He took the lead anyway, folding their arms in order to erase the last of the distance between them, and bowed his head to kiss the soft spot below Bryce’s ear. Now he had the added scent of Bryce’s cologne, and his body went hard in an instant. “But don’t worry. I’ll give you the chance to lead later.”

  “I hope so.” Bryce wrapped his arm around Charlie’s waist, following Charlie’s steps easily. It soon became apparent that Bryce knew how to dance, knew the best way to move his body. It also became apparent that they moved well together. Not that Charlie could concentrate too much on dancing. Most of his attention was on the erection pressed against his hip, and the regular rhythm of
Bryce’s breath.

  One song bled into two. Charlie didn’t even stop when the music paused in between. He couldn’t get over how wonderfully they fit. Bryce molded to him in all the right places; there was no awkwardness or clumsy adjustments in order to be able to touch as each so obviously wanted.

  By the end of the first verse in the second song, Charlie grew bolder. His mouth moved along the soft stubble at Bryce’s jaw, back and forth so their cheeks nuzzled, his breath fanned down the side of Bryce’s neck.

  “God, I love the way you feel,” he whispered.

  He felt Bryce’s smile, a twitch of muscle against his cheek. “I love the way you smell. Your cologne. Your sweat. Even your laundry detergent.”

  Charlie chuckled. “So have you been secretly smelling me every time we’re together?”

  “Well, yes. That’s not too creepy is it?”

  “Not any creepier than me wishing I could sink my teeth into your ass every time I see it.”

  “Every time?” Bryce chuckled softly, his arm tightening around Charlie. “God, I wish you would have mentioned that sooner.”

  “Yeah, well, fitting ‘please let me eat your ass’ into everyday conversation isn’t as easy as you might think.” The second song ended, but the guitarist must have taken inspiration by their continued dancing because he launched immediately into the next. Charlie sighed with satisfaction. “I don’t want to stop.”

  “I know. Me, neither. But I think we should continue this back at your place, because honestly, I don’t think I can keep my hands in safe places for much longer.”

  “On one condition. You spend the night.”

  “You would have to bodily throw me from the house to make me leave.”

  A thrill went through Charlie. Though it was the last thing his body wanted, he broke the contact between them and stepped back. “Let’s go home then.”

  Chapter 5

  The entire drive home, Charlie could barely talk. His body hummed with anticipation, his thoughts scattering from one fantasy to the next. He fought against the urge to undo his seat belt and blow Bryce while he was driving, but the scenario continued on in his head, morphing into Bryce’s good-natured refusal, Charlie’s subsequent removal of the man’s tie, followed by the use of that tie to bind Bryce’s hands to the steering wheel so he couldn’t stop Charlie from taking what he wanted.

  By the time Bryce pulled into his driveway, Charlie was a wreck of nerves, and he jumped from the car to half-jog up to the front door.

  “Hey, wait up,” Bryce called, walking briskly behind him. He didn’t reach the door until Charlie had it unlocked. “Where’s the fire?”

  When he glanced back, Charlie wondered if Bryce could see just how much he wanted him. If not, he’d feel it soon enough. “Inside.” He took his hand and tugged, not looking away until they had shut the door behind them.

  Bryce must have known exactly what Charlie was feeling, because he made the first move. His arm went around Charlie’s shoulders, and their mouths crashed together. Bryce kissed him with the same intensity, the same hunger as the night before. Except now it wasn’t dulled by the effects of too much wine.

  They slammed into the wall, both needing the brace it provided, as they attacked with teeth and tongues. Charlie clawed at Bryce’s tie. He needed it gone. He needed to feel that skin rubbing against his. It wasn’t enough now that he could feel Bryce’s erection jammed into his hip. Bare cock to bare cock. Body to body. That was what he wanted. That was what he’d always wanted.

  “Some of those Saturday nights are in, too, right?” he gasped between kisses.

  “Definitely. And Friday nights. And Sunday nights.” Bryce’s hands were as frantic as he pulled at Charlie’s buttons, popping them free. Charlie suspected their clothes were going to be mangled and destroyed by the time they reached the bedroom, but he didn’t care. They were just barriers, standing between him and what he really wanted. “And any other night you’d like.”

  At that moment, he wanted all of them. He wanted not to leave the fervent touches behind. He wanted to fuse their bodies together and never get out of bed. He wanted to erase fifteen years of denial and loss, and embrace what he’d missed, what he’d craved. But most of all, he wanted to get this damn tie off. Because his fingers had lost every sense of control the second he touched Bryce.

  His shirt hung open, half pulled from his waistband, when he shoved at Bryce’s shoulders, pushing him back in order to better see what he was doing. “I need this off,” he said at Bryce’s confusion. But then the younger man smiled and ducked his head, and Charlie lost all sensation in his hands completely as Bryce dragged his tongue over an exposed nipple. “And that’s not helping.”

  “It’s helping me.” Bryce straightened, just long enough to shrug his shirt off his shoulders. As soon as the material hit the floor, Charlie pulled him close, seeking the pressure of his hard chest and hot skin. Bryce’s mouth found the pulse point on his neck and sucked the skin between his teeth.

  The thing that made this better than necking like a couple of kids on the couch was knowing everything that had come earlier in the night, and everything that would come later. Charlie squeezed his eyes shut and was instantly taken back to those minutes on the dance floor, when he’d been able to hold somebody he liked and was attracted to in his arms, without fear of retribution from onlookers. Nothing could compare to that kind of freedom. He wondered if Bryce was fully aware of just how much he’d given Charlie.

  Molding his hands over Bryce’s back, Charlie buried his face in the other man’s neck, demanding his own taste of salty skin and throbbing pulse. Bryce shuddered against him, and his fingers dug into Charlie’s flesh, hard enough for him to know he would feel it long after they separated. Together, they kissed and sucked, nibbling at sinew that made both of them moan. Now that they had the contact, it seemed like nothing else mattered. Charlie thought he could dine for hours on just those few inches of stubbled skin.

  Nothing could distract Charlie from the texture and taste of Bryce’s skin until Bryce unzipped and stretched his fingers into Charlie’s pants, caressing his cock through his boxers. Each time nails lightly scraped over his length, Charlie twitched, wishing Bryce would push the underwear out of the way and wrap his hot hand around the throbbing flesh.

  “Maybe we should take this to my bedroom before things go too far,” Charlie panted.

  “I was just about to suggest the same thing. Because I am more than ready to take things too far.”

  So was Charlie. It felt like his whole life had been leading up to this.

  Taking Bryce’s hand, he bent to scoop up their shirts before leading him through the darkened house. It was pointless to bother with lights. They only had one destination in mind. There, however, the very first thing Charlie was going to do was turn on the light. He wanted to see every inch of Bryce, see everything they did together. He wanted this night to be branded on his memory in every way possible.

  “I have everything we might need.” Though he kept his voice low, it seemed to boom within the darkness. “And maybe stuff we don’t.”

  “What sort of stuff?” Bryce asked as Charlie led him into the bedroom. “You never know. We might need it.”

  He flicked on the overhead light and tossed their shirts onto a chair. “I don’t know what exactly you’re expecting.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, he drew Bryce between his legs and leaned in to lick along the other man’s firm stomach. “I still owe you a blow job, though. We don’t need anything but my mouth for that.”

  “I don’t have any real expectations.” He ran his fingers through Charlie’s hair and down the back of his neck. Charlie couldn’t help but shiver. The contact was simple and not anything arousing by itself, but it felt like the most intimate touch of the night up to that point. “What else do you want to do?”

  While his fingers worked at the belt, Charlie glanced up at him through his lashes. “Do we have limits?”

  “I don’t.” He traced
Charlie’s jaw and ear. “Do you?”

  Charlie leaned slightly into the touch. “I don’t know.” The buckle came free, followed quickly by the button and zipper. “But I’ve been dreaming about your ass for years now. I’d like…” His throat worked, both in light of what he was about to ask and the delicious sight of Bryce’s cock coming into view. “I want to fuck you with my tongue, if that’s okay.”

  “God, Charlie. That’s okay. That’s more than okay. That’s…fantastic.” Bryce’s pants fell to his feet, finally allowing Charlie the opportunity to study his muscled thighs, his thick cock, the line of his hip, his heavy balls. He marked each detail before he reached out to touch. “I know it’s been a long time for you…and I don’t know what you’ve done before. But I’d like to fuck you.”

  I’d like to fuck you.

  The words rang inside his head. He’d thought it might be a possibility. The way Bryce had taken charge last night had hinted at it. He was even prepared for it, though it hadn’t been Bryce he had bought the supplies for. He’d had lube and condoms on the off-chance something happened with Dean. It was better, though, that it was his best friend.

  Charlie grazed his fingers down the heavy line of Bryce’s cock. “When it was…before, everything I did was pretty down and dirty. Blow jobs. Or a hand job.” He reached the sac and cupped it almost delicately in his palm, savoring its weight. “I’ve never had the chance to do anything else with another guy. Not fucking, or eating out their ass, or getting fucked.”

  Bryce’s eyes widened. “So tonight is basically going to be your yardstick for all future encounters.”

  “Yeah.” He laughed a little nervously. “So no pressure, right?”

  “Yeah, well, fortunately, I don’t buckle under pressure.” He hooked his finger under Charlie’s chin, forcing him to look up so Bryce could claim his mouth in a slow kiss. “But if anything is too much, be sure to let me know.”

  His skin sizzled, even with the gentle contact of the kiss. “I trust you. So if you want to fuck me, I’m all yours.” He smiled when Bryce straightened, curling his hand around the man’s erection. “Besides, I just said I’ve never been fucked. Not that I’ve never had anything in my ass before.”