Pisces: From Behind That Locked Door (6 page)

"No, don't even worry about it. If you don't remind me, I'll just forget and I don't want you to fall behind on my account."

By the time they reached Jay's car, they'd found the rhythm of their previous conversation. The afternoon traffic was light going back over the mountain, and Jay was more than a little disappointed when they reached the valley in just over twenty minutes.

"Take the exit for 7th East. I'm just off 13th South."

"Near the park?"

"Yep. It's practically my front yard. Except for the giant six lane road between it and me."

"Nice. It must be a great view."

"It is. Would you like to come up and see it? I know you have work to do, but I promise I won't keep you long."

He did have work to do. But what did that matter? He might as well get used to the fact that he'd go wherever Stephen wanted him to go and do whatever Stephen wanted him to do, regardless of any other plans he might have made.

"Sure."

Jay parked on the street just outside of Stephen's small home. It probably wasn't any bigger than Jay's seven-hundred-and-fifty square feet, but it was like the rest of the homes in the neighborhood--adorable and perfect. It was also the only house on the block painted a bright yellow. He expected Stephen to mention it or explain that he wanted to repaint it, but he didn't even comment on the sunny color. He even had white shutters. It was just the sort of house Jay might have chosen for himself, but he was a gay literature student with a passion for flowery Victorian poetry, so it made sense for him to be enchanted by such a, well, girlish home. The interior was as sunny as the exterior, but a bit more fussy than he would have expected.

"It's a condition of the rent," Stephen explained as Jay looked around. "I couldn't beat the price or the neighborhood. But the lady who owns the place said it was a historical landmark and I had to keep its condition more or less unchanged."

"Um, so where do you
live
?"

"In the back. Come on."

The entryway and living room were in pristine condition, with gleaming hardwood floors and what looked to be hand-painted wallpaper, with an exquisitely carved fireplace and black and white photographs in oval frames. There wasn't a speck of dust anywhere. But the back of the house showed far more signs of being lived in. The kitchen was cluttered with dishes, pans, boxes of cereal, and fruit. A room just off the side housed the television, computer, and a couch that pulled out into a futon. It was tiny, not much bigger than a closet. Jay was glad he didn't suffer from claustrophobia, but being in that small of a space with Stephen still shortened his breath.

"This was the view I meant," Stephen said, gesturing at the window. "Come here and see."

Jay had no choice but to try to navigate around the narrow space and fit his body between Stephen's and the wall so he could see out the thin pane of glass. It actually wasn't a great view. The traffic on the street blocked most of it, and he could only see a small corner of the park. Not that it mattered, since Stephen was standing right under his nose, easily within kissing distance. Jay inhaled, catching a hint of his shampoo--it smelled strongly of citrus. Much sweeter than Jay would have expected. All he wanted to do was bury his nose in the silky strands and close his eyes. He couldn't trust his eyes not to give him away, so he looked out onto the busy street with far more interest than it warranted.

"Jay?"

"Yeah."

"I didn't really invite you in to look out the window."

"Oh. What did you invite me in for?"

"You... didn't pick up on any of my... signals?"

"You were sending signals?" Jay had no idea what Stephen was talking about now, and that made him distinctly uncomfortable. Social situations were usually just beyond his grasp, but this seemed completely beyond the boundaries of his reality. "What sort of signals?"

"I... well... I thought this was... the two of us were... "

"Having lunch?" Jay asked, his confusion mounting as Stephen became more uncomfortable.

"No. Not having lunch. Oh, hell." Stephen grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him closer. "This is what I was trying to say, Jay."

With that, he pressed his mouth to Jay's in a hard kiss. Shock washed over Jay in an icy bath, and instead of doing what he so desperately wanted to do, he froze. He went completely rigid, his brain trying to process the fact that
Stephen
was kissing him while his mouth refused to engage at all. One hand tightened into a fist at his side and the other hovered above Stephen's arm, though he couldn't quite bring himself to touch. He probably looked like a complete idiot. Stephen probably thought he was mentally deficient. Or didn't return his interest.

The thought startled Jay into action. He could live with Stephen thinking he was an idiot and a shitty kisser, but he didn't want Stephen to get the impression that Jay didn't want him. Jay wanted him so badly it literally hurt. He opened to the kiss before Stephen could pull away, embarrassment clawing at his throat even as Stephen moaned and cupped the back of his head. Stephen's tongue briefly touched his, pulled back, and then brushed over his lips. The contact went directly to Jay's cock, which instantly swelled to press against Stephen's thigh. Each subsequent touch of Stephen's tongue sent a dozen jolts of pleasure to his groin, until every muscle was clenched tight and he felt like he was going mad with it.

Jay didn't know exactly where he found the boldness to slide his hand between their bodies, but as soon as he fingered Stephen's erection through his jeans, he knew the impulse had been the right one. He palmed Stephen's length, amazed that he was touching Stephen at all, overjoyed to be massaging his thick cock through the soft jeans. He wanted to do more than that. As soon as he touched Stephen, it was too much to ever hope for and not even close to enough. Stephen's mouth continued to move over his, still strange but growing more familiar. Jay was beginning to have a sense of how to respond, how to mold his lips over Stephen's perfectly, how to use his tongue to tease Stephen's and explore the curves of his mouth.

Jay managed to pinch Stephen's zipper between his increasingly thick and clumsy fingers and pulled it down. Stephen's cock sprang from his pants, and his moan was low and appreciative when Jay fisted it. And God,
God
, he had Stephen's cock in his hand, Stephen's flesh throbbing against his palm, Stephen's slick pre-come wetting his fingers. Jay's knees turned to rubber, and his heart raced dangerously. Touching Stephen left him more breathless and light-headed than anything they did at the gym.

Stephen's cock was long and thick, and Jay hadn't even had the chance to look at it yet, but he knew it was probably as beautiful as the rest of him. He'd never touched anything so hot, so smooth. His skin was softer than silk, and the bit of liquid at the tip was so warm and slick. It shouldn't have been like a revelation to Jay, who had more than ample experience with his own cock to understand the texture and the heat. But it was
nothing
like touching his own, and Jay couldn't stop himself from marveling at every blessed second of contact.

He pumped his wrist slowly at first, dragging his palm from the tip to the base and back again in long, measured gestures. Jay had to break away from Stephen's mouth to catch his breath, and as he looked at Stephen's shining lips and his bobbing Adam's apple, he realized he wanted to do more than just taste Stephen's mouth. Dropping to his knees wasn't an option. He was feeling bold, but not quite that bold, and besides, it wasn't exactly easy to get himself down and back up again in such a small space. But that was fine. He was more than happy to kiss Stephen's neck and his throat and collarbone. He pulled at Stephen's shirt, revealing more of his chest to lick and nibble. Jay hoped he was doing everything right. He tried to use Stephen's moans and soft sighs as a guide, repeating the motions that received the loudest sounds. Was it obvious that he had no idea what he was doing? What about his desperation? Was that as obvious as his inexperience?

Of course it is,
Jeni's voice quickly responded.
He kissed you once and you grabbed his cock. Do you think that's how people normally behave?

Jay gasped at the thought and tried to step back, releasing Stephen like he'd been burned. "I'm sorry. I... "

"Fuck, Jay, please don't stop."

In this confusing time, the right thing to do was whatever Stephen said to do. Jay re-established his grip on Stephen's cock and began stroking him again, pumping his wrist faster and faster, occasionally twisting his palm over the swollen head. Stephen clutched his shoulders, claiming Jay's mouth just in time to muffle a low groan. He rocked his hips, fucking Jay's hand and the urge to drop to his knees returned. He'd let Stephen fuck his mouth like that.

"Oh, Jay, I'm going to come... oh... " His hips stuttered and Jay had just enough time to cup his palm over the slit, catching each shot of the thick, hot liquid. Stephen shuddered against him, dropping his head to Jay's shoulder to catch his breath as the last of the aftershocks rolled through him. "God."

Jay stared at the back of Stephen's head, not quite ready to believe this even happened, despite the fact that Stephen's come still coated his fingers. He could stand there all day holding Stephen, studying his hair and the shape of his shoulders and the slope of his spine. But all too soon Stephen was straightening and half twisting his body to snag a T-shirt that had been tossed onto the futon.

"Here. You can use this to clean up."

Jay nodded and took it, using the soft material to carefully wipe his fingers even though he would have rather licked it up.

"Let's sit down and I'll return the favor. So to speak."

Stephen wanted to give him a hand job? Jay hadn't even thought about Stephen touching him, much less
touching
him. Stephen offering like that was more than Jay could have ever hoped for, and it certainly wasn't anything less than Jay longed for. But in order for that to happen, he'd have to unzip his pants and get partially naked. Not completely naked, not for a simple wank, but he couldn't let Stephen see him without clothes. That wasn't even an option. He liked Stephen too much, and more importantly, he'd rather have the opportunity to touch Stephen again.

"I... I can't. I'm sorry, I have to go."

"What?"

"I have to go," Jay repeated, his mouth dry. "I'm sorry, but I have to do... things... "

"I won't keep you for the whole afternoon," Stephen promised. "Twenty, thirty minutes tops. Maybe forty-five."

For a brief moment, Jay considered giving in and unzipping his pants. Another thirty minutes of kissing Stephen, of touching him, of being close to him? Jay couldn't think of anything more wonderful. But by that same token, the inevitable disgust on Stephen's face would be too much to bear. Not that he believed he was disguising himself completely with his clothes. Stephen clearly knew he wasn't attractive, but if he was willing to touch Jay just to
return the favor
, it wasn't necessary.

"I have to go," Jay repeated, wondering if Stephen could tell how much the words cost him. "But I'll see you on Monday."

"Yeah, okay." Stephen tucked himself back into his pants. "I'll walk you out."

"No, that's fine. Bye."

Jay couldn't make his escape fast enough, and he didn't give Stephen another chance to argue that he should stay. His hands were trembling by the time he got to the car, and it took two attempts to even get the key in the ignition. His cock throbbed so hard he felt it in the back of his eyes. The slightest direct contact would be enough to make him burst. He couldn't stop thinking about the way Stephen enveloped his senses, the way it felt to stand so close to him and hold him and lick at his mouth. But those thoughts only sharpened the ache between his legs until Jay couldn't think about anything except that.

He only lived a few miles to the north, but he was all turned around and couldn't get his head on straight. He went a good ten miles out of his way, but at least by the time he made it back to his apartment, the pain had faded and he could walk with a minimum amount of discomfort. Fortunately, Amy was in her room with the door shut when he returned home, so there were no obstacles between him and his own bedroom. He locked the door, undressed, and spread out on the bed.

It probably took less than a minute to get himself off the first time. All he had to do was think about how Stephen's cock felt against his hand, and when he brought his palm up to his face, he could still smell the other man's sweat and come and the natural, slightly bitter scent of his skin. Come burst from him with enough force to hit his chest, but that wasn't enough to ease the ache in his balls. He jerked himself off a second time, moving much slower, giving himself enough time to consider Stephen's entire body, not just his gorgeous cock.

When he was close to the breaking point, he let his fantasies change their shape a little. He thought about Stephen joining him on that bed, covering Jay's naked body, kissing him like he was dying for Jay's mouth.

The scene in Jay's mind didn't make it far beyond that point before he finished again.

With his mind clear, Jay could admit that it would have been far more preferable to actually
be
with Stephen rather than just think about it. He wished he could have stayed in Stephen's little house all day, but he still felt he'd made the right decision. He definitely wanted Stephen to touch him, but since that would probably be the last thing they did together, Jay knew he could be patient.

Monday was difficult. More difficult than Jay anticipated. He spent the first half of the day trying to concentrate in his 19th Century Novels seminar, but even though he'd done the reading, he found he had absolutely nothing to add to the conversation. Dr. Smith sent him a few questioning looks since he was usually the first person to volunteer his thoughts and always plunged into the debates with enthusiasm. He forced himself to take notes, trying to prove he could pay attention and not just swoon over Stephen like a teenage girl. But his notes were incomplete and in no way resembled the meticulous letters on the previous page. After class, he ate lunch without tasting the food and tried to grade a handful of papers, but mostly he just thought about Stephen. By the time he showed up at the GLBT Center, he'd spent at least ninety-five percent of his mental energy on Stephen, and he had no idea how he was supposed to get any work done while Stephen was in the same room.