Pisces: From Behind That Locked Door (8 page)

"I know, I spent a lot of time there this summer. I'm sort of in love with their nachos."

"They're really good, right? It's because they don't skimp on the cheese."

"Or the guacamole. I hate places that only give you like a tablespoon of the stuff."

"I'm also a big fan of their fries," Jay admitted. "I'm not sure what they do different. Maybe they take the time to hand cut them."

"I wish more movie theaters served beer and nachos. I bet more people would go to the movies then."

"Yeah, if only because people wouldn't bring their kids to an establishment that served booze."

"Exactly. It's pretty much a win for everybody. You mind driving again?"

"Not at all."

Jay would have liked to shower before going on any sort of date--was this a date? Was it? Jay wished he could just ask. They'd already been intimate twice and didn't Stephen imply that their lunch on Saturday was a date? That meant this probably was to. He was going on a
date
with Stephen McNeil. How could this not be an elaborate practical joke? Somebody must have been waiting in the wings to pull the rug out from under him, because this sort of thing didn't happen to people like him. But it was happening, and he still had the taste of Stephen's come in his mouth to prove it. In that case, he should have insisted on going home first and showering. He was probably more disgusting than usual, and that wasn't the sort of impression he wanted to make on Stephen. He'd have to make more of an effort to keep his distance, even though the distance he already carefully held between them was killing him by inches.

Even though Brewvies was on the other side of town, it usually didn't take more than ten minutes to get there from the University. Salt Lake wasn't exactly a big city. But they'd managed to hit the worst of the downtown congestion, which worked out in Jay's favor because it gave him an additional fifteen minutes of Stephen's company, which they filled with idle chatter that didn't mean anything and somehow meant everything all at once. Until Stephen casually dropped a bomb in his lap.

"How many boyfriends have you had? Any jealous exes I should know about?"

Jay laughed. "Jealous exes?"

"Yeah."

"Have you been attacked by jealous exes before?"

"It's been known to happen."

"Really?"

"Sure. Everybody has their baggage. Sometimes their baggage happens to be crazy and possessive."

"I don't have any."

"Crazy ones?"

Jay licked his lips and stared at the red light ahead of them. "I mean, I don't have any."

"Ah."

Ah? Ah what? Jay thought it was obvious that he'd never had a boyfriend, so why did Stephen have to bring it up at all? Just so Jay would have to say it out loud? He didn't exactly need the reminder that Stephen was probably slumming it. His good mood crashed at that, and he immediately began thinking of ways to get out of the date. He couldn't use homework as an excuse. Maybe he could text Amy and have her call him. Stephen was pretty smart, though. He might be suspicious if Jay's roommate just happened to have an emergency when Jay very clearly wanted to escape.

"Jay?"

"What?"

"It's okay."

Jay risked glancing over, surprised to see that Stephen was looking at him with obvious concern. "What's okay?"

"That you haven't had a boyfriend before. If you're upset because I asked, then I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... offend you or anything."

"I'm not offended. Or upset. Don't worry about it."

"Okay... but I can see that you are. Whenever I say something you don't like, you clam up and start looking around, like you want an escape route."

Jay didn't know what to say to that. An outright denial didn't seem like a good strategy, since Stephen probably wouldn't accept it. "I'm not offended. It's just... "

"What?" Stephen prompted. "Tell me. If you don't, I'll keep putting my foot in my mouth."

"I just... don't know why you even asked."

"I don't understand."

"It seemed like a pretty pointless question, that's all."

"Why was it a pointless question?"

Jay sighed. Stephen was really going to make him say it then. Fine. He didn't know what Stephen was playing at, but if he wanted to have this conversation, then Jay would go along with it. "Because you already knew the answer."

"I didn't already know the answer. That's why I asked."

Jay snorted. "Yeah, right. Like it's not perfectly obvious. I've never had a boyfriend, Stephen. Or... or anything else."

"I see."

"Yeah," Jay muttered as the light turned green. He made a left and pulled into the theater's parking lot, wishing more than ever that he could just go away. Somewhere far away.

"Jay, I really didn't ask to upset you."

"Okay. We better hurry, the movie is supposed to start in five minutes."

"For what it's worth, it wasn't perfectly obvious to me."

Jay nodded, but the words essentially went in one ear and out the other.

"I mean it. You're what, twenty-four? Twenty-five? Why wouldn't you have ex-boyfriends?"

"Okay, Stephen, I get it. It was a perfectly legit question. I answered it. Now let's go inside." Jay's heart thudded painfully.

"Okay. Let's go inside."

A dividing wall split the bar into two uneven spaces. To the left was the bar itself, two pool tables, and several tables, to the right was the cash register and concession stand--which had the standard popcorn, Whoppers and seven different types of beer on tap.
The Other Guys
was playing in the closest of the two theaters, and their plan to beat the crowd was surprisingly effective, since there was nobody else there.

"One of the couches?" Stephen asked.

Jay shrugged, not even thinking about the possibility of snuggling on the small, well-worn sofa placed in the back of the theater. He barely noticed when Stephen sat close enough to touch his thigh, thinking it was probably just that the couch was too small for both of them to sit comfortably. Within moments of settling in, the houselights went down and the projector clicked to life just above and behind them. With Stephen's attention on the screen and the darkness settling around them, Jay felt some of his earlier humiliation ease. It was always so easy to see bad intentions in the heat of the moment, even when it made far more sense to give Stephen the benefit of the doubt. Once again Jay wanted to apologize, though he had nothing tangible to apologize for.

He was too caught up in his own thoughts to pay attention to the movie or to what Stephen was doing. Subsequently, he damned near jumped out of his skin when Stephen's fingers crept over his lap.

"What are you... " Jay's breath caught in his throat as Stephen tugged at his fly, making it perfectly clear what he was doing. Jay wasn't hard until Stephen had his zipper pulled down. By the time he pushed his hand into Jay's pants, his cock was rigid and straining for attention, jerking in anticipation a split second before Stephen's fingers wrapped around his length.

"Stephen, what are you doing? You could get us thrown out."

"Shh, nobody's going to throw us out."

"But what if somebody walks in? There could be latecomers or... "

Stephen leaned over, putting his mouth so close to Jay's ear that he could feel the shape of the words on his lips. "I'll stop if you really, really want me to. Tell me you really want me to stop, Jay."

"I don't... "

"Doesn't this feel nice?"

Jay nodded mutely, knowing he didn't need to speak. Stephen's movements were restricted by his Jay's pants, but that didn't stop him from establishing a steady rhythm. He leaned closer and closer until he was half covering Jay's chest, his hard cock pressed to Jay's thigh. Jay naturally reached between their bodies to palm him, but Stephen shifted forward, blocking Jay's hand.

"No."

"But... "

"I know. But just relax."

Jay couldn't do anything except comply. Stephen's hand was hot and tight, fingers rough and gentle at the same time. And so, so different from Jay's own hand. All of the nights he'd tried to imagine what it would be like to feel another man touch him had just been a waste of time. His fantasies had never come close to this. Every brush of Stephen's fingers was unexpected, every twist of his wrist a new delight. Pre-come covered him, making his flesh slick under Stephen's touch, which only aided his quick, sharp jerks. Jay dropped his head back, all of his earlier tension draining from him, pleasure rushing in to flood the newly hollowed spaces inside of him.

He bit his hand to muffle his moans, his teeth sinking into the soft flesh at the base of his thumb. Since he couldn't touch Stephen, he didn't know what to do with his hands. Stephen's breath was hot against his ear, heavy and excited, impossibly loud despite the speakers booming around them. The sound of Stephen's arousal almost did more for him than the friction on his cock--and the friction on his cock was the most exquisite sensation he'd ever experienced.

"God, I wish I could see your cock, it feels so good."

Jay tensed at that, but Stephen refused to give him an opportunity to dwell on the thought. As much as he may have wanted to, Jay simply couldn't focus on anything besides the twist of Stephen's palm over his crown. He jerked his hips, his thighs and stomach tightening as the tingling at the base of his spine grew more intense.

"Do you know how much I want you?"

Jay shook his head, because he didn't know, because it was a lie.

But...

But if Stephen didn't want him, why take him to the movies and shove his hand down Jay's pants? And if he didn't want Jay, why would he say it? What if he just took Stephen's word for it?

"We'll go back to your place after this and I'll show you," Stephen promised. "I'll use my mouth and... "

That was it. That was all Jay needed to hear. The thought of him using his mouth on
any
part of his body was too much for him to take. He tried to choke out a warning, but the words wouldn't come fast enough and Stephen didn't appear to care, anyway. He must have sensed the growing tension beneath Jay's skin, and he quickened his pace until everything erupted all at once. Jay couldn't stop himself from crying out, but the sound was lost in a barrage of gunfire. Stephen slowed, but didn't stop, milking Jay's orgasm for as long as he could, until he was just smearing the sticky come over his softening cock.

"Here," Jay said, handing Stephen his stack of napkins.

"Thanks." Stephen kissed Jay's neck before taking them from him. The brief press of lips to skin burned him, and even though he was floating on the endorphin rush of his orgasm, it was that small kiss that settled in his chest and radiated warmth like a small, pulsing star.

"I'm going to go get cleaned up."

"Okay."

The bathroom was on the other side of the building and there were more people milling around, queuing up for the other movie, but Jay walked quickly and kept his head down, avoiding making eye contact with anybody before ducking into the bathroom. He cleaned himself and his pants as well as he could, washed his hands, splashed water in his face, and stared at himself in the mirror. If Stephen did want him, he couldn't think of a single reason to explain it. But there were many things Jay didn't understand about the world, that didn't make any of it less true.

Stephen took him by the hand as soon as he returned and tugged him down to the sofa. When their mouths touched, his lips were a little spicy and sweet from the salsa, and Jay caught a hint of alcohol on his breath. He didn't hesitate to respond, happily following Stephen's lead. They only paused occasionally after that for a breath or a drink. It wasn't long before they were both hard again, but other than grinding against each other, they didn't do anything about that. This, Jay realized as Stephen's tongue slid into his mouth, wasn't about getting off. It was slow and careful, thorough and soft. Introductory almost. As if Stephen wanted to show him everything he couldn't say.

"This is a nice place. Live here alone?"

"No." Jay shut the door behind Stephen and absently turned the lock. "I have a roommate. My friend, Amy."

"Is she in grad school, too?"

"She's studying to get her teacher's credential right now. And... I don't think she's here."

Stephen waggled his eyebrows. "So we have the place to ourselves?"

"Yes. Would you like the tour?"

"Please."

"Well, as you can see, this is the living room where we watch television and take our meals."

He nodded at the table in the center of what the apartment brochure generously called the dining room. "What do you use that for then?"

"Nothing really. It's just sort of taking up space. Now, if you'll follow me, we have the kitchen next."

"Wow, it's not bad for an apartment this size." Stephen half stepped inside and eyed Amy's set of expensive Calphalon pans, which she had rather inexplicably received from her mother the previous Christmas. As far as Jay knew, Amy didn't eat anything that couldn't be microwaved. If she knew how to cook, she'd kept that fact hidden for the past three years. "I'm too scared to use the kitchen at my place. That stove is at least twenty years older than I am. Plus, I don't have any good pans."

"I never cook. I'm not very good at it. I basically know how to make macaroni and cheese," Jay admitted.

"My mom taught me how to cook."

"You any good at it?"

"Pretty good. I could make you dinner tomorrow night, if you'd like."

"I don't really have anything to make."

Stephen smiled. "I'll bring the food. You provide the pans. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Good. You are in for a treat. What's left on the tour?"

"The first door on the left here is Amy's room. This here is the bathroom. And this"--Jay flipped on the bedroom light--"is my room. As you can see, it's pretty much just your standard issue room."

At least it was mostly clean, and the bed was made with fresh sheets. Amy had washed all the linen the night before, probably out of guilt. Or maybe she was tired of not having any clean towels. His books made up the bulk of the clutter. There were piles everywhere--to the unknowing eye, it all looked very random, but Jay had a system worked out after years and years of having more books than time. There were stacks dedicated to books he needed to read for school, books that just looked interesting, books that people suggested, books he should read but never found the time for. The piles were all in a specific order, which was too elaborate and arcane to even begin to describe.