Boston Boys [01] - A Life Without You (2 page)

His eyes widen when I move my hands on either side of him and gaze directly down into his eyes. “And when you saw how much I loved it, you wanted to try it too.” He shakes his head, just an inch to either side, eyes large, mouth half parted.

“Yes,” I purr with a brief grin. “And although it hurt a little at first, you were moaning, and pleading, and begging me to fuck you harder until you came all over the sheets without either of us even touching your dick.”

“No,” he whispers. “No way.”

His breath rattles when I bend down to brush my lips against his cheek. I rest my weight on one of my arms while the other gently runs through his soft hair. My finger travels down his cheek, jaw, neck and then circles a spot on his muscled chest.

“And it looks like you’re ready to go again,” I whisper into his ear.

Neither of us move in the silence that follows. I don’t know what’s going through his head, but he’s definitely holding his
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breath. My hand lies flat over his beating heart and I’m tempted to move it downwards, towards the body part that was awake long before the rest of him was.

Sandy blonde locks of hair curl lightly around his ear. His tanned neck is begging to be kissed, but I’m afraid to move. My heart beats so fast that Jesse has to be able to hear it, but his is beating just as fast.

Is Jesse gay after all? This is not the first time I’ve wondered.

Maybe he wants me to kiss him, to release the tension in his lower regions. Without fully registering it, my lips are brushing against his jaw and down to the base of his neck where it meets his gorgeous shoulder. Jesse takes short, rattling breaths of air.

I press my mouth against his neck very lightly, licking his skin through my parted lips. When he doesn’t move I run a trail of soft kisses up his neck and then I graze my teeth on the soft, stubble-free skin of his jaw. But as I do, my cemented cock rubs against his.

With a startled yelp, he shoves me off and scrambles out of bed crab-style, hitting the floor hard. He looks so beautiful with his face contorted almost as if he’s about to climax. Straight, white teeth flashing, jaws set, a little crease between his eyes. Tangled in the sheet, he drags himself away from my bed backwards, not taking his large eyes off me even for a fraction of a second. I look down his body and get a nice view of sexy feet with nicely curved insteps, lean-muscled legs, and his narrow hip that makes my cock drool every time.

“You.” He stops to point a finger at me, sprawled wanton on the floor like I’ve seen him so many times in my fantasies. Only the look on his face is different. Instead of the lusty, needy gaze, I get a heated glare that looks just about as enticing. “You took advantage of me. I was drunk. That’s rape!” he shouts, snapping me out of the gutter that is my mind. I didn’t realize until now just how much I’ve scared him.

I’m still bent over where Jesse lay just a moment ago. “Relax, Jesse,” I tell him. I try to smile, but my lips are trembling too much. My whole body is. “I’m messing with you. You fell hard A Life Without You
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on the pavement and I had to take you to the ER. You have a fractured tailbone and some bruising around your rectum.” He sits on his hip and stares at me.

When I push myself off the bed his eyes widen further at the sight of my hard-on. I know my cock is impressive – not a full nine inches, but close enough with a lot of girth. His is lovely as well, maybe half an inch shorter and a tiny bit thinner, but just right to make my mouth water whenever I have the privilege of seeing it – which is every night. Hell, I’ll blow off anything not to miss Jesse going to bed.

“It’s true,” I say, trying to look serious. That feeling of nausea returns when I think about how I would feel if a girl claimed she’d fucked me in my drunken state. I have scared Jesse with my twisted sense of fantasy and humor, and now all I want to do is to caress the horror off his face. “I promise. I have the hospital bill to prove it.”

I still have the sweet taste of his neck on my lips. I briefly wonder what could have happened if my dick hadn’t brushed against his. If I’d gotten him to the point where his lust would have made it impossible for him to push me away. But then he would have hated me afterwards, and that’s something I couldn’t bear.

“That’s not funny, Adam,” he says after he finds his voice again. His shoulders slump down when the real reason for his pain has sunk in. “That’s so not funny.”

“You keep saying you like my humor,” I say, not quite able to shake off my teasing despite all the twisting in my stomach.

“Not when I thought I’d been ass-fucked! Jeez, Adam. That is so not funny.”

A nervous chuckle passes my lips and I reach out a hand. “Let me help you up.”

“Put some pants on first,” he says, still ogling my erection.

“What, I see yours all the time but you can’t see mine? That’s a little unfair, isn’t it?” I say in a calm voice that, in no way, mirrors
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my aching guts. I’m scared shitless that he’ll leave. This was not how I was going to reveal my sexuality to him.

“Pants,” he repeats.

I lift my hands in defeat. “All right, all right.” I put on a pair of blue boxer briefs and help him up. I have to put my arm around his back to lift him because his injury is causing him so much pain, but the firm press of his shoulder blades against my chest sends a jolt down my underwear and my dick does a little throb.

“Dude! Don’t stand so close to me,” Jesse shouts, trying not to let his lower back touch my front. As a result there is no way he can shield himself when the sheet rolls off his body and pools around his feet. I see that his penis is still erect. He sees it, too.

“Morning wood. Don’t get any ideas,” he groans out while we make our way to our en suite bathroom.

“Wasn’t gonna. You want me to help you in here?”

“No, I’m fine,” he says and shuts the door in my face.

I close my eyes and rest my head against the bathroom wall.

Jesse turns on the shower and then pees in the toilet with a long groan. I smile, even though my body is shaking and my heart is pounding. I don’t think I could bear it if he left. My captivation has developed into something so unbearable that my chest hurts every time I think about it.

The touch of his skin still burns on mine. He was aroused even after his shock, fear, and pain. Although I can’t allow myself to think anything of it I can’t help wondering if the idea of having sex with a man excited him. Or was it my erect cock and my brief kisses?

My hand slides into my boxers. The skin is taut over the wet stiffness and I can’t help myself from moving it back and forth, all the while thinking of Jesse on the other side of the wall. By the irregular water falling and splashing sounds, I know that he’s in the shower running his soapy hands all over his perfect body.

The splashing stops. I hear him force back his moans and I know A Life Without You
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that he’s masturbating, too. I hold my breath while I work on myself, every stifled breath of Jesse’s fizzing through me as if he were panting in my ear. It sounds as though his forehead is pressed against the wall and I can just picture him leaning against it with his arm over his head for support. When he draws in a sharp breath, a deep moan vibrates in my throat and I’m sure he heard it, because he stops – just like I do, with a thudding heart

– but only for a second. I listen to his half-grunts, as I stroke my cock, and the fact that he probably knows what I’m doing on the other side of the wall brings me fast towards my limit.

I hear it when he comes, the deeply forced back grunt. I grind my teeth and hold my breath to keep from making a sound, but a low whimper seeps out when I come, too.

I wonder what will happen now. Maybe he will call me in and let me into the shower where we can jerk each other off. Maybe he will kiss me with his wet lips and run his hot, soft tongue into my mouth like he did last night. Maybe he will even let me drop to my knees and slide his cock between my lips. If he does then I’ll suck him so hard and swallow every bit of him after.

These are wishful thoughts that will never come true.

My stomach twists when I think about that reality and the hopelessness of it all.

God, the sweet taste of his lips is forever etched in my memory. He even wrapped an arm around my waist and fisted my t-shirt with his free hand last night, as if he didn’t want to let me go. His swollen lips parted from mine and he laughed at whatever expression I had on my face. I wanted to tackle him, press him against the floor, rip his shirt off and run my lips over every inch of his hot body.

Instead I watched him walk off towards the beers and gulp them down. Eric raised his bottle to me and winked with his most mischievous smile. If the idiot thought he was doing me a favor, he was wrong.

I’m still standing with my fingers around my erect cock when Jesse turns off the shower. I yank my hand out, wipe it on my boxers, and change into a clean pair before he limps out the door
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with a thick towel around his middle and a deep blush in his cheeks.

“You okay?” I ask when he stops, trying to sound as if nothing happened a minute ago.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” He is very focused on a pile of clothes at the foot of his bed, ones that haven’t made it into the laundry basket yet.

The casual tone in both our voices sounds so fake, because our voices are a little higher than they should be.

“Why don’t I get both of us dressed and then help you downstairs to the Box?” I say.

The Box
is what we call our kitchen area. Most of the residence in this dorm are guys who don’t bother to cook, so everywhere you look you’ll see piles and piles of empty pizza boxes or other takeout cartons.

“No, no I’m fine,” he says but bares his teeth when he moves again. “Jesus, Adam, you sure you didn’t fuck me in your sleep or something, cause I get these stings all the way up my –”

“I’m sure,” I try to reassure him with a smile and exhale in relief when I hear my voice go normal again. I find a pair of black jeans and a white t-shirt. “Though I’d be happy to do that if you want.”

“You mean you really are gay?” Water drips onto his cheeks as his eyes move up to meet mine.

That ache in my stomach returns while I watch his face closely. Is he going to leave?

“Yes I am,” I say after a short moment of silence. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” he says after a minute and drops his gaze. “No, I don’t discriminate against people that way. I mean, as long as you keep your…your –”

“Penis?” I help.

“Yes. Keep it away from me and we’re fine. And don’t kiss A Life Without You
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me again.”

“You kissed me,” I point out while I button my jeans.

“I mean like you did this morning.”

“Sorry,” I say with a forced-back smile while I find him some clothes. “I really didn’t think you’d take me seriously. And maybe I took the joke a little too far.”

“Ya think?”

I bite back a chuckle. “You’ve always been able to take a joke.

You really believed that story, huh?” Most of his clothes are dirty, but I find a pair of grey sports pants that look clean enough and a wrinkled t-shirt stuffed in the corner of one of his drawers.

“With the pain in my ass? Of course I did. Wouldn’t you have?”

I shrug, but I can’t help smiling. It doesn’t look like he’s moving out.

“Sorry. I promise to keep my penis to myself, but I’ll have to help you dress. The doctor said you’d need help with that sort of thing for a few days.”

Jesse nods, his attention now focused on the only piece of clothing on the floor that belongs to me. My blue boxers.

Jesse has a girlfriend. He told me about her on the first day of our rooming together when he put up a pink-framed picture of her next to his bed. They talk twice a week, always on Wednesdays and Saturdays at five in the afternoon. He always smiles when she calls and then she talks and talks and he listens patiently or reads his school books with the occasional “mhm” in the right places.

According to Jesse she’s a sweet girl. She proves that by sending him care packages every two weeks with treats like homemade muffins, chocolates, and raspberry juice. Sometimes there are things like knitted items of clothing that Jesse never wears and pillow cases with embroidered A + J in swirly, lacy letters. I secretly smile when I see those because to me the A stands for Adam and not Anne. I used to enjoy her homemade treats when Jesse offered to share them with me, but I can no longer stomach the bitter taste of him belonging to her.

“No sweetie, you know I wouldn’t do that to you,” Jesse reassures her for the hundredth time since moving in. She is so insecure about him being away that she keeps making him promise not to even look at other girls. He doesn’t tell me this.

Her voice is so chirpy and loud that I want to reach my hand through the phone and clasp it over her mouth.

I try to concentrate on my literary assignment, but that annoying chirpy sound is breaking my focus. With a sigh I push it away and pull out the articles that go into this month’s student newspaper. I get extra credits for proofreading. More importantly, I like editing and would like to make a career out of it, so this will look good on my resume. But trying to focus on the coverage of last night’s basketball game is hard. I didn’t go since Jesse wasn’t playing.

It’s been three days since that morning he found out I was gay.

He hasn’t said a word about any of it. I think I’ve ruined the easygoing friendship of ours, because his whole attitude is different –

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formal instead of the carefree joking and teasing. He spends a lot of time studying in the library, and when he’s not studying he’s watching sports in the living room with some of the other guys.

My somach knots up whenever we’re in the same room because I want to fix this, but I don’t know how.

With another sigh I squint at the words, trying to make sense of them, but Jesse’s voice keeps interfering.