by Anna Martin
They were both breathing hard, faces only inches apart as Adam’s strong biceps strained. Not that Jared was struggling. Adam ran his hands down Jared’s arms, gently gripped his wrists, then maneuvered those wrists over Jared’s head, pinning them there.
Then he lowered his lips and took them into new territory.
By some unspoken agreement, cocks had stayed out of their nighttime fumbling so far. Bare chests and kissing was one thing, touching each other below the belt was another. It almost felt like intruding on a really good, really solid friendship.
Now Jared knew the truth, knew what was behind Adam’s advances, he was less worried about ruining their friendship. He rocked his hips up experimentally as they deepened the kiss, finding his cock rubbed against Adam’s nicely. Despite being the taller of the two, Jared’s height came from his long legs, and their lips, chests, bellies, and groins lined up neatly when they were lying on top of each other.
Jared pulled back from the kiss and grinned up at Adam. The rain started then, a slow, familiar drum against the glass. Adam blinked slowly, returned the shy smile, and ducked back into the kiss. Kissing was safe. They knew this.
Sensing Adam’s reluctance, Jared drew his knees up and wrapped his legs around Adam’s waist, using his strong thigh muscles to draw him down. Adam grunted softly and licked Jared’s neck, nibbled down to take Jared’s nipple between his teeth. While Adam teased and pulled on it, Jared rocked their hips together, imitating a thrusting motion.
Fucking. That was where this was headed.
Without breaking contact between them, Jared reached down and tugged at the waistband of Adam’s black Calvins, using his feet and the flexibility in his hips to push them down Adam’s toned thighs.
“What are you—” Adam started, but Jared silenced him with a hand wrapped around the back of his neck and a deep, searching kiss.
Using the same dexterity, Jared rid himself of his underwear, and then they were in totally new territory. Naked. Smooth. Hard. Ready.
Adam pulled away, panting and blinking and searching Jared’s face for something—answers, maybe. Looking up into soft gray eyes, sparkling like silver in the dark, Jared knew he was going to do this. He just had to convince Adam first.
Reaching between them, Jared wrapped his hand around both their hard cocks, stroking them awkwardly. It was enough friction to make Adam moan, and after a moment Jared stopped caring that it was clumsy and not that great. It was them, so it was good.
“Jared,” Adam said, his voice warm and husky. He licked his lips, then ducked his head and drew them into another soft, slow, begging sort of kiss.
They didn’t discuss what was about to happen next. It wasn’t necessary, not really. They both knew how it worked.
Adam reached into the drawer in his nightstand and came back with a bottle of lube and a gold-wrapped condom. Jared nodded, not knowing the words, but wanting Adam to know it was all right.
The lid on the lube snicked open, and Jared gently drew it out of Adam’s hand, taking it and using the slippery liquid on his hole. He closed his eyes, dropped his head back as he reached between his splayed thighs and ran his fingertip, just his fingertip at first, over that puckered entrance. This gentle exploration felt good, caused nerve endings all over that area to hum and sing to him as flickers of pleasure grew into flames that curled into his balls and heated his cock.
“Does it feel good?” Adam asked, his voice a low murmur, blending into the sound of the rain.
“Mm.”
“Can I help?”
Jared didn’t have words for that, so nodded instead. Adam used a little more of the slick lube and rubbed the hole along with Jared, sharing the task. It was Adam who nudged a finger inside first, testing how tight the ring of muscle was, how willing it might be to yield.
“Okay?” Adam asked. Jared nodded again, willing to let Adam take control of this task now. He dropped one arm over his eyes, blocking out even the watery moonlight as one of Adam’s fingers pushed in all the way to the hilt.
Rather than moaning or making any noise, Jared shuddered deeply. He knew all about the secret hotspot that was hidden deep inside him, the fabled source of pleasure he had teased and stroked and petted in other men.
Please. Touch me there.
He didn’t dare say the words aloud, and he hissed in discomfort as Adam pressed a second finger in alongside the first. It was a stinging stretch, then it faded, and Adam hooked his fingers in just the right spot, and
Oh.
They hadn’t been exaggerating. It was a starburst of arousal that centered right where Jared wanted it—ass, balls, cock, in that order, setting the fire burning again in an entirely new way.
As Jared forced himself to concentrate on what Adam was doing—knuckles twisting, fingers scissoring—the unavoidable truth was he was being prepped for being fucked for the first time. Maybe the only time if this didn’t go well.
He focused on those deft, clever fingers and found he was able to force himself to relax some. He had a tiny amount of control left, and Jared was determined to cling to that. He wasn’t going to be the passive partner, not now, not after all they’d been through.
“Now,” Jared murmured. “Do it now.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Yes.”
He almost said please but was too proud to beg. Not when he didn’t need to, not really. Adam was more than willing to do it.
The clever, twisting fingers were drawn from Jared’s body, and Adam grabbed the bottle of lube once again, pouring some on his cock, more over Jared’s entrance. It was throbbing a little already from the teasing, and he bit his bottom lip, not sure if he was ready for what came next.
“Look at me,” Adam said softly.
They shifted on the bed, and Jared resumed his position from earlier, legs wrapped securely around Adam’s waist. His arms found a natural resting place over the curve of Adam’s biceps and his cock lay thick and waiting along the sharp angle of his hipbone. Jared didn’t want to touch it just yet.
Fear and arousal licked through him in equal quantities as Adam lined his cock up, then leaned down to steal a kiss as he pressed the head against the loosened entrance.
Jared gasped, then forced himself to hold his breath, not wanting to give anything away.
“It’s okay,” Adam murmured. “Relax, baby. Breathe deep.”
The term of affection was weird. They didn’t use those at all, but Jared found it working. He did relax, did take a deep breath.
“That’s it. Let it go.”
As he exhaled, Jared trembled lightly as Adam took advantage and pushed hard, harder, until the head of his cock popped inside.
“Holy shit,” Jared grunted as the expected pain flared.
But Adam was shushing him and kissing his neck, already soothing and comforting Jared as he held his body perfectly still. The pain started to fade, and Jared turned his head for another kiss that was right there waiting for him.
“I’ve got you,” Adam whispered. “It’s okay. Relax for me. Deep breath now.”
These words of comfort weren’t expected, nor was the tenderness and gentle sweetness of Adam’s kisses when they came, and the way Jared seemed to have ended up cradled in Adam’s arms. None of this was happening how he’d expected it to, and the flickering pleasure that had been all but forgotten a moment ago reared again, wanting to make its presence known.
He reached down for his cock, unashamed of this need, and Adam made space for Jared’s hand between them, holding himself up on his arms. Jared’s cock wasn’t fully hard again yet after the initial twisting pain of penetration, although with some tender ministrations and the knowledge of his own body, Jared was able to get himself there.
Adam wasn’t thrusting. That was better somehow. Instead he held himself all the way inside, and rocked their hips back and forth. Jared’s hole, not used to being stretched to this dimension, wasn’t forced to bear the indignity of a thorough pounding. Not the first t
ime, anyway.
The head of Adam’s cock lined up with Jared’s prostate and oh fuck, was that making things feel good. He whimpered, then cut off the sound with a cough.
Adam kissed up his neck, reassuring with soft lips and tender bites that drew out the pleasure, taking it away from his lower half and spreading it throughout his body. While Jared’s hand moved up and down his cock with a familiar whoosh of skin on skin, Adam started to move in and out, in and out, the tiniest increment at a time.
There was no hiding any more. Jared felt like he’d been stripped bare, inside and out, and Adam could see all the way inside. No secrets now, just the new pleasure of this act, being fucked, being the passive partner for the first time in his life.
Adam was clearly doing something right because Jared’s cock was leaking a steady stream of pre-come, something he didn’t do all that often. He rubbed just under the head of his cock with his thumb, the most sensitive part that was almost guaranteed to make him horny. He was more than horny now: the pain in his ass had faded to a pleasant hum, and the combination of his hand on his dick and Adam’s lips on his neck was turning this into an altogether good experience.
“I’m not sure,” Adam said, his voice low and rough, “how much longer I can hold on.”
“Do it,” Jared growled. “Come inside me.”
“Oh, fuck.”
Adam pressed his face into the arch of Jared’s neck and trembled hard. His arms tightened around Jared’s shoulders, and he could feel everything. It was like a fire had been lit underneath them, inside them, and all Jared could do was hold on and come too.
Every last inch of him was singing with the sheer, overwhelming intensity of a bone-deep orgasm. The weight of Adam’s body on top of his was nothing, not important, even though he was finding it difficult to breathe. And think. And function.
So, that was sex.
The first thing he became aware of was Adam’s hand searching for his on the bed, and Jared couldn’t help the stinging in his eyes when Adam tangled their fingers together and squeezed gently. It was something more than sex now.
Adam laid a very, very careful kiss on the side of Jared’s neck before he pulled away, and the rush of pain and discomfort and loss choked Jared. It was more, somehow, than in those first moments.
As his fingers and toes curled in pain, he gritted his teeth and kept his eyes shut while Adam padded silently to the bathroom. The pain was a dull ache inside, and he knew by some instinct that this would linger.
When Adam came out of the bathroom, Jared was fully dressed, his boots on but unlaced. Adam gave him a look of hazy confusion, smiling softly, asking with his expression why Jared wasn’t snuggled up in bed.
Jared grabbed Adam’s wrist and dragged him forward until they were toe to toe, Jared dressed, Adam wearing nothing but another expensive pair of underwear.
With great precision, Jared leaned down and pressed a kiss to the corner of Adam’s mouth.
“There,” he said softy, keeping their faces close together, his eyes closed. “You can go and collect on your bet now.”
Chapter 13
It was only when Jared got out of the Hemlock house that he realized he’d been driven here, and he had no way of getting home. With a sigh, he pulled his phone from his back pocket and called a taxi, managing to get to the end of the long, winding drive as the car pulled up.
He kept his eyes on the road, concentrating on the feeling of his damp clothes sticking to his skin and not the raw ache he would forever associate with losing both his virginity and his heart.
By the time he found himself back in his bed again, it was close to dawn. Jared hadn’t showered again, not possessing the energy to wash Adam’s smell from his skin, and had changed his clothes to something dry.
After ten minutes of lying in bed, he knew there was no way he was going to sleep without chemical assistance, and reluctantly dragged himself back to the bathroom, stepping over his white clothes on the floor.
The party seemed like days ago now, weeks maybe.
In the cabinet he found Tylenol, sleeping pills, and a teeny tiny, airline bottle of scotch. He took two each of the pills and chased them with the liquor, pissed, then stumbled back to bed.
Jared woke at two the following afternoon, pissed again, went to the kitchen and made a grilled cheese sandwich. He took it back to bed, set re-runs of Buffy the Vampire Slayer to play on Netflix, and went back to sleep.
He woke again at seven, checked his phone, plugged it in to charge without looking at any messages or Facebook notifications. Went back to sleep.
He woke at midnight screaming, sweating, throat raw.
This time he pulled himself out of bed and to the shower, turning off Buffy as he went. It took a while to properly cleanse himself, inside and out, washing sticky residue from his skin that had been there for almost twenty-four hours.
The white clothes were still on the floor, and after dressing in cutoff sweatpants and a tank top, Jared decided it was time to clean up.
There was an in-house music system he could set up, so his hard, angry rock music blasted in every room he was in. While Alanis Morisette screamed about things that people oughta know, Jared collected armfuls of laundry and went down to the basement to set it in the washer. With that task rolling along without him, he went back upstairs and found the cleaning cupboard, taking the things he needed for the bathroom.
Unlike some people in this town, Jared had been to a school where he was forced to take part in the detailed scrubbing of every inch of a communal bathroom. It was punishment sometimes, other times so the people in charge could assert their authority. Bottom line—Jared knew how to scrub. And the bathroom needed scrubbing.
After going at the grout around the bathtub with an old toothbrush for nearly forty-five minutes, he found a bottle of Powerade in the fridge downstairs, downing it gratefully. Once rehydrated, he looked around the kitchen at the mess he’d caused. There was a cleaning service Hadley had come every few days, but he could do this too. The music was still playing, daring him to keep going, and he did.
Countertops.
Grill.
Oven.
Floor. Dry sweep, wet mop, watch it dry, mop again.
By the time the floor was dry, the laundry had been through the washer and dryer and he pulled it out, sorted it carefully, then carried it back upstairs. He watched light seeping into the gray morning and fell asleep again from sheer exhaustion.
The magic elixir of Tylenol, sleeping pills, and scotch got him through most of the next day, and weed, scotch, and Grand Theft Auto 5 got him through the next night. The pain dulled in his chest, and his new favorite blend of chemical enhancements stopped him feeling too much of anything at all.
Jared wasn’t quite sure where the days and nights started and ended any more, but at about ten in the morning on what he thought was Tuesday, he hauled his sorry, stinking ass into the shower. Got dressed in nice jeans and a plaid shirt, combed his hair, slicked on a little cologne.
Climbed into his truck and drove to Seattle, Morisette blaring out of his stereo once again. For some reason, the angry girl, fucked-over ’90’s grunge rock mood fit him like a glove.
Fuck the patriarchy.
In the city, Jared drove to a Sexual Health Clinic, directed by the GPS on his phone. He gave a fake name and paid in cash, got his blood drawn, and was told he’d get the results in ten days or so. That was fine. It was a precaution, and maybe he was being over-cautious. Adam had used a condom—at first, at least. Jared couldn’t be absolutely one hundred percent certain that Adam hadn’t pulled it off, and it made him feel responsible and slightly superior to get tested. Just in case.
With Christmas just around the corner, he spent the rest of the day shopping, buying small gifts for his sisters, his mother, and Hadley, then wondering when his life had gotten so full of women. He saw a small pendant necklace that would have been perfect for Ryder, and a band T-shirt that, in other circumstances, he would have b
ought for Mia.
As he walked aimlessly around a department store, Jared picked out gifts for all the people he thought were his friends, but weren’t after all.
In a moment of clarity, he stopped in front of a display of leather-bound notebooks, remembering Dylan. He hadn’t seen Ryder’s brother in a few weeks now; their tutoring sessions had filtered off over the holiday period. Dylan was someone he wouldn’t feel awkward buying a gift for.
Jared took his time choosing the right notebook, eventually selecting one that had a dark red leather cover with lined pages inside. He imagined Dylan using it for classes, for scrawling hasty notes to himself or little snippets of poetry. Dylan was the sort of guy who’d write poetry.
Arms full of bags, Jared navigated his way through the sudden crowd of people that had flooded the store, sighing to himself about being totally oblivious, once again, about what was going on around him.
With Hadley not due home for at least another week, Jared picked up takeout on his way back to the house and sat in his room eating a huge bowl of pad thai, watching an English soccer game on TV.
As of yet, no one from the school had been in contact regarding his attendance, and it looked like Clare’s prediction that Principal Saunders didn’t want to get involved with Hadley, if he could help it, was in fact correct. Jared wondered how long this standoff would last until someone caved and did something about the fact that he wasn’t in school.
Jared slurped up the last of his noodles, then set the bowl on his dresser. It would likely stay there until morning. He had no intention of going downstairs again.
He muted the TV and sat up suddenly when he heard the front door open, then slam closed.
“Jared?” a familiar voice yelled up the stairs. “Get your ass down here.”
Chris.
Jared stayed exactly where he was and listened in quiet bemusement as the big guy stomped up the stairs, then followed the light from Jared’s bedroom all the way down the hall.