Though younger by more than ten years, Will felt older than Jack at that moment, and more than a bit jaded. The crowd he ran with, or had run with until recently, would think nothing of picking up a stranger in a bar, taking him home for the night and then promptly forgetting him once he was out the door.
Friendship rarely entered the equation. What a lonely way to live. Even with Paul, whom he would call a friend if pressed, the only thing they really shared in common was their workout at the gym and the sex afterwards. They rarely talked about anything that mattered, certainly not their feelings toward one another.
In that regard this was all new to Will too, as was knowing how to proceed with a man who hadn’t said he was gay or even bi, but simply that he had a
crush
.
Well, it was a start, wasn’t it? At least he hadn’t told Will he wanted nothing more to do with him. Nor had he delivered the tired, painful speech about being just friends.
So there was hope. A quote he’d read sometime back that had always stayed in his mind surfaced now. “If it were not for hopes, the heart would break.” He touched his chest, now covered in a yellow T-shirt, and knew his heart was very much intact. He grinned widely at Jack and, unable to resist, said, “You’ve got a crush on me, Jack Crawford? Well, that’s just
swell
.”
To hide his embarrassment, Jack took another cannoli and bit into the delicious confection. He noticed a smudge of dirt on Will’s cheek and resisted the urge to reach over the table and wipe it off.
He honestly had no idea what would happen next. Were they now supposed to go upstairs and have sex? His mind recoiled at the idea, while his cock lifted its head, decidedly curious.
Curious. That must be what he was. He’d heard the phrase before—bi-curious. Will was watching him, the smile lingering on his face.
“You know, the game’s coming on in a minute. I was going to watch it. Do you like baseball?” Will asked.
Jack was taken aback for a moment. Mentally he chided himself, realizing he just assumed gay men wouldn’t like sports. What a bigoted idiot he was. Aloud he said, “Sure. Do you think the Mets have a chance this year?”
“You a Mets fan too?” Will snorted. “They always have a chance—and then they break our hearts.”
“Yeah,” Jack agreed, feeling suddenly a lot more comfortable.
“You can’t have cannoli and coffee with baseball.” Will laughed. “I’ll get us a couple of beers.” He took two bottles from the refrigerator and they moved into the living room, settling beside each other on the large, comfortable sofa that faced a huge flat-screen TV.
The game had just started and the Mets were at bat. They talked about the players for a while, discussing statistics and the Mets’ chance for the World Series. Jack leaned back against the cushions, feeling happy but nervous as a teenager on his first date.
He took a long pull of his beer and glanced toward Will, whose eyes were on the screen. Jack examined Will’s strong, handsome features and again wondered what in the world Will saw in him. Was it only the thrill of going after something he couldn’t get? Now that he had Jack, whatever the hell that meant, would he lose interest?
What do I want to have happen? What do I expect?
Will glanced his way and their eyes locked. Jack felt his heartbeat quicken. He clenched his beer bottle and realized he was holding it so tight it might shatter. With a shaky hand he leaned forward and set it on the table.
Will copied his action, setting his own bottle down. Slowly he reached out a hand and touched Jack’s thigh, unconsciously mimicking the gesture Luke had made so many years before.
Jack felt frozen in place. He looked down at Will’s hand, noting the long, slender fingers. His skin was lightly tanned, the soft hairs on his arms a golden brown. His touch was solid, the fingers gently gripping Jack’s thigh muscle. It felt like he was squeezing Jack’s heart muscle too. He could barely catch his breath.
“You okay?” Will asked softly. “Is this okay?”
Jack swallowed and nodded. It was okay. They were grown men who could do what they liked. He wasn’t eighteen any longer. It was time, finally, to be honest with himself.
Will moved his hand along Jack’s denim-clad thigh toward his groin. Jack’s heart threatened to burst through his rib cage. Will moved his hand back down Jack’s thigh and scooted a little closer. “Hey, Jack. It’s okay. I’m not going to rush you. Please, slow your breathing if you can. Nothing’s going to happen between us you don’t want to have happen. I promise.”
Jack met his eyes and gave a weak grin, keenly aware of the sudden shift of power between them. For the first time in his adult life he wasn’t in complete control of a situation. It felt very strange—both scary and exciting. Will’s voice was calming, his touch gentle, and Jack knew instinctively he could trust him. He took a deep breath and released it, willing his heart to slow and his muscles to relax.
“Okay,” he said quietly.
Will stroked his leg, his fingers curling down over Jack’s inner thigh. Jack’s cock was nudging hard against his fly and, unable to resist, he looked down at Will’s crotch. The bulge was unmistakable. Again his heart began a rapid tattoo, ignoring his efforts to relax.
Will leaned forward, his face nearly touching Jack’s. Jack turned away. Will kissed his cheek. “It’s okay,” he promised. He kissed Jack’s cheek again. Jack’s lips were tingling with anticipation, and before he could stop himself, he turned back toward Will.
Their lips met in a chaste press. Their eyes were open, each watching the other as they kissed. Jack could feel Will was trembling. It occurred to him Will might be as nervous as he was. Somehow this gave him courage. He closed his eyes and parted his lips.
Will’s tongue gently slid over his lower lip and slipped between his teeth. Startled, Jack pulled back, his heart thudding so loud he could hear it. Will pulled back too, his green eyes blazing, the color high in his cheeks.
Though he was scared, he couldn’t deny the desire roiling through his blood. Was he gay, was he merely curious, did it matter? He wanted to kiss Will, to taste those soft lips again. He could work through this fear—Will would keep him safe.
He closed his eyes again and leaned forward, silently offering his mouth again. Will whispered softly, “Jack,” and again their lips met. Will touched the back of his head. His own hands were frozen at his sides.
Will’s warm tongue again slid along his lips. Jack felt it enter his mouth. Will tasted like coffee and beer. He smelled wonderful, like shampoo and some kind of subtle citrusy cologne. Their tongues began to intertwine.
Oh my God, I’m kissing a man. I’m kissing a man.
For a moment he tried to pull away, his fears almost getting the better of him.
Will gently but firmly pulled him closer. “It’s okay,” he whispered again. “We both want this. There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s good.”
It was good. It felt good. It felt better than any kiss he’d ever shared. He wasn’t kissing a
man
, he was kissing Will.
Finally Jack’s thoughts were suspended, or at least drowned out by the roar of blood in his ears. He knew he didn’t want the kiss to stop. It felt so good, so right, even better than the stolen kiss so long ago with a different man.
Back then he’d been way too young and unsure to know what he wanted or to have the courage to seize it. Now there was no reason to hold back. He wanted this. There was no longer any question or doubt.
Without realizing what he was doing, he found his arms lifting and wrapping themselves around Will. He pulled him closer, kissing him back with all the pent-up passion of years of repressed longing. He could feel Will’s heart pounding against his own.
Time seemed to suspend itself as they explored each other’s mouths. Will’s hand moved from Jack’s head to his neck, slipping beneath his shirt.
He ran his hands over Will’s back, feeling the strong, well-defined muscles through the thin cotton of his T-shirt. Finally Will moved, pulling away from Jack’s mouth, trailing his lips down his chin and throat, his tongue touching the flesh. Jack fell back against the sofa and Will flopped back beside him.
Slowly Jack focused on the TV screen. He hadn’t heard a word of the game during their extended kiss. Even now he could barely hear the announcer over the thump of his own heart.
“Well, would you look at that? The Mets just scored a grand slam.” Will turned toward him with a broad grin. “Maybe this will be our lucky year, Jack. What do you think?”
“I’ll get us some more beer. These aren’t cold enough.” Will took the half-empty bottles and went to the kitchen, leaving Jack to compose himself. He dumped the tepid beer into the sink and put the bottles in the recycle bin.
He touched his mouth with two fingers, marveling that the man in the other room had let him kiss him—had kissed him back with more than a little enthusiasm. Will’s hand dropped to his crotch, where his erection still raged. He slipped his hand into his pants and adjusted himself to be more comfortable. His hand lingered a moment, wrapping around his shaft as he closed his eyes, reliving the kiss.
His mind flashed to Jack, naked on his bed, his ass offered for Will’s plunder. He could almost feel the tight, velvet grip of his muscles as he eased himself inside the virgin passage…
I want him—bad.
If Jack had been another guy, one of the men he’d brought home over the years for a little action, Will wouldn’t have hesitated in his next move. He’d have returned from the kitchen with his shirt off and his jeans unzipped. He’d have held out his hand to his potential lover and said, “Let’s go upstairs.”
He didn’t dare do that with Jack. He found he didn’t even want to—not yet. He wanted to take his time, not only for Jack, but for himself. Something was different here—different than any prior or potential relationship. For once he didn’t want to get to the action as fast as possible. For once he wanted to savor the anticipation, not fixate solely on the prize of a hard, naked body in his bed.
What must Jack be going through now? A lifetime’s notion of his sexual orientation teetering, perhaps already fallen, in the wake of that extraordinary kiss. How bright his eyes had been when they’d finally let each other go. His cock was clearly erect in his jeans, pointing like an arrow toward his hip. It had taken every ounce of willpower not to grab it through the denim.
Will opened the bottles and returned to the living room. Jack was sitting much as he’d left him, leaning back, his arms now extended along the top of the sofa, his eyes on the screen. As Will entered, Jack looked over and sat forward, reaching out for the bottle.
“Thanks,” he said, and smiled.
Will settled in next to him. “What’s the score?”
“Mets 10, Astros 6.”
“Excellent.” They drank their beers. Will felt his rock-hard erection ease a little. He put his feet up on the coffee table and tried to concentrate on what the announcers were saying. This was best. Give Jack a chance to process things, to stay in a comfort zone as far as the two of them were concerned.
He became aware of Jack’s leg, which was bouncing up and down in a nervous, somewhat-annoying jiggle. Casually, Will put his hand on Jack’s thigh. Jack’s leg ceased its anxious tap. He looked over at Will. “Sorry. Guess I’m kind of nervous.”
“It’s okay.” Will smiled back. He removed his hand and returned his attention to the game. A few moments later Jack’s leg again began its nervous twitch, his foot tapping a steady beat against the floor.
Will glanced toward Jack, who, upon becoming aware of his look, again stopped his nervous movement. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Will floated an idea that popped into his head. “Hey, maybe you’d like a massage. That might relax you, or relax your body at any rate. I’m told I give a mean massage. Would you like one?”
“You don’t have to do that. I’m just a little edgy, is all. I’ll be fine.”
“No, I want to. I’ll tell you what. I have a TV in my bedroom too. Come upstairs and I’ll put the game on. You can lie down and watch while I rub your back a little.
“Don’t worry.” He had to laugh at Jack’s sudden panic-stricken look. “You can keep your pants on. No funny business, I promise. Remember, this is one hundred percent at your pace and comfort level. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
Jack nodded and stood. “Okay. Lead the way.”
Will sat on the bed, watching Jack as he unbuttoned his shirt and laid it carefully over the back of a chair. His chest was massive—a strong, burly barrel chest with curling dark hair sprinkled with silver. The muscles in his arms and shoulders were bulging. Will drew in his breath, enthralled at the man’s raw masculinity. He honestly hadn’t realized how strong and well-built Jack was, his body until this moment hidden in loose denim work shirts.
He suppressed the intense urge to kneel at Jack’s feet and pull his pants down those strong, thickly muscled legs. He had to resist the fierce temptation to drag his underwear from his body and take his cock deep into his throat, not letting go until Jack begged for mercy. Will shook his head, forcing the vivid images from his mind.
Jack looked decidedly nervous as he approached the bed. “Uh, how should I be? How do you want me?”
Naked on your hands and knees.
“Just lie on your stomach, with your head at the end of the bed so you can see the TV.” Will grabbed the remote and turned on the game. Jack lay down, his movements stiff and awkward. Will’s heart melted with compassion, even as his cock rose with desire.
He scooted closer to massage those massive shoulders. The muscles were knotted with tension. Will realized a full-blown back massage would be necessary. “Your shoulder muscles are really tense. I’m going to straddle your back so I can get a good angle, okay? You just relax and focus on the game.”
Jack gave a terse nod. Will had his work cut out for him. If the man held himself any stiffer he’d break in two. He climbed over Jack’s legs and settled himself over him. First he smoothed Jack’s skin to get him used to his touch. In a way it was like calming a wild animal. He didn’t want to make any sudden moves that might scare his quarry away.
Jack remained stiff beneath him, his muscles bunched and knotted at his shoulders. Will concentrated at first on his lower back, massaging and kneading the muscles on either side of the spine. Slowly he worked his way up the broad, strong back. Jack’s skin was smooth and supple beneath his fingers.
Jack lay very still, though his body no longer held its rigid posture. Will moved his way up to Jack’s shoulders. He took his time, first kneading the flesh, then going deeper, penetrating the bunched muscle with strong fingers until Jack groaned.
He didn’t stop until the muscles surrendered all of their tension. Jack sighed, the sound low and sensual in Will’s ear. Resisting the urge to lie down against Jack’s body and press his cock against his ass, he instead forced himself to focus on what he was doing.
As he worked the muscles, he could actually feel them ease and uncoil beneath his hands. He pressed harder, not giving up until Jack sank against the mattress, his body entirely limp.
Jack turned his head, no longer even pretending to watch the screen. Will leaned over to see his face. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted. His breathing had become slow and regular. Will realized he’d put his potential lover to sleep.
He grinned ruefully to himself. “I’m so exciting he falls asleep on me.” Still, he knew it was a testament of Jack’s comfort level with him, and that was perhaps more important than anything else at this point.
He returned to a sweeping touch with his palms, keeping a gentle pressure against Jack’s skin. Jack’s arms were lying loose at his sides. Will massaged first one and then the other, pulling them out and away from Jack’s body as he did so. Jack remained limp, sinking into deeper sleep.
He touched Jack’s sides, feeling the ribs with his fingers. Jack didn’t move. Will was tempted to roll him over, to focus his attentions on less innocent areas of Jack’s anatomy. He bet that would wake him up in a hurry. His cock stiffened at the prospect, even as his mind nixed the idea.
Instead Will continued to stroke and smooth Jack’s back and sides, as he remembered his first sexual encounter with another man. Well, another boy really, as they’d both been fifteen at the time.
Justin Peterson was his lab partner in tenth grade physics class. Until they’d been assigned as partners Will hadn’t really known Justin, except to nod toward him when passing in the hall. He’d heard rumors Justin was gay, as Justin, unlike himself at the time, didn’t try to pass as straight. He gave off that particular effeminate vibe some gay guys cultivate and didn’t seem to care if he got made fun of, which he did.
“I’m having trouble with the homework,” Justin offered one day as the lab was ending. “Would you maybe like to come over and help me with it? We could have pizza after, if you want.”
Will thought about it. Justin was very good-looking, in an almost girlish way, with long straight hair, big brown eyes and a slender build. If Will went home with him, would everyone assume he was gay too? Did he care? Was this, at last, the time to make his declaration to the world?
He hadn’t yet told his parents or his older brother, John. He had never been put in a position to deny it, and had told himself he wouldn’t deny it when the time came, but the question had never come up. Sometimes, feeling reckless and lonely, he wanted someone to confront him, to accuse him of being what he in fact was. But, perhaps because he was strong and fast and good in sports, and went with Tracey Baker to the dance when she asked him, people just assumed he was het. It was easier, especially in school, to let them think so.
Making the decision all at once and the consequences be damned, Will said, “Sure. That sounds like fun.”
They studied in Justin’s bedroom. Will felt important and competent as he explained the concepts Justin had trouble grasping. Justin seemed so intent on the homework Will had a sudden uneasy thought maybe Justin had had no intentions beyond what he’d said—homework and a pizza after.
Will found himself let down by this. Here he’d geared himself up for some crucial, first-time encounter—his virgin declaration to the world, or at least to one boy, that he was gay and proud of it—yet Justin seemed to show no interest in the matter.
This fear was soon put to rest, however, when Justin shyly asked Will if he’d like a back massage. Will understood this for the code it was and his heart began an anticipatory thud.
“Is anyone home?” he asked. Justin had let them into the luxurious Manhattan apartment with his own key.
“No. My parents won’t be home for hours. My older sister is away at college. Carmen, the maid, is gone for the day. We have the place to ourselves.”
Absorbing this information, Will nodded. Justin smiled broadly. “Take off your shirt,” he said. “I can massage you better if you do that.” Will agreed and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor.
He lay on Justin’s bed and closed his eyes, feeling very brave and very scared at the same time.
Relax
, he told himself,
it’s just a massage. Justin’s probably as nervous as you are.
Justin straddled Will’s ass, much as Will was straddling Jack’s now. He massaged Will’s back for a while. Eventually his hands strayed down to Will’s sides. Will laughed nervously and twisted beneath Justin. “Hey, that tickles.”
“That’s because you’re not relaxed. Lie on your back. I’ll massage your chest. That’s very important if you’re to relax fully.” Justin spoke with confidence. He lifted himself off Will, waiting for him to comply. Though Will didn’t entirely believe him, he rolled over. Why not?
Justin lowered himself again, now straddling Will’s stomach, his ass resting against Will’s crotch. Could he feel the erection Will knew he was sporting? If so, he gave no indication as he continued to rub Will’s chest. It was kind of annoying, but Will was too focused on Justin’s ass against his cock to take much notice.
After a few moments Justin slid down, now straddling his thighs. He dropped his hands to Will’s stomach, lingering for a few seconds before moving to his intended target.
His eyes on Will’s face, he slipped his hands beneath the waist of Will’s jeans. He inserted his fingers beneath the elastic of Will’s underwear. They made contact with the tip of Will’s cock and Will closed his eyes, his heart now beating a thousand beats a minute, or so it seemed to him.
Justin slid off his legs and twisted his body to get a better angle. He pulled at the button on Will’s jeans and unzipped the fly over his very erect cock. Boldly he pushed the white briefs down until Will’s cock sprang free.
“I
knew
it,” Justin crowed triumphantly. “I knew you were gay, despite the jock act for the rest of them.”
Will didn’t deny it. How could he deny it, with his cock hard and throbbing in Justin’s hand? It only took a few strokes and he was near to orgasm. He’d never come in front of someone else, or by someone else’s touch. It felt incredible—way better than his own furtive groping in the dark.
Then Justin did something that short-circuited his brain and flooded his senses with pleasure. He lowered his mouth over Will’s shaft, his warm tongue licking around the crown and down the sides. Closing his lips, he drew back upward, the suction sending Will into spirals of convulsive pleasure.
He groaned, half-sitting as he spurted into Justin’s mouth. Justin swallowed and continued to suck and lick Will’s shaft until his cock softened and he pulled away. He fell back on the bed, his heart a steady thrum, endorphins flitting through his blood like a drug.
“That was your first time, wasn’t it?” Justin lay on his stomach beside Will on the large bed, leaning up on his elbows. “I could tell, the way you came so fast.”
Will flushed, embarrassed at his virginal status, though of course it was true. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I’ve never been with a guy. Or a girl for that matter.”