Authors: Ryan Loveless
“
Not worried.” Jaylen smirked. “But you can leave the game on anyway.”
“SHIT.” JAYLEN RUBBED his eyes open. “What time is it?” He blinked his vision into focus. Westley stood at the bar that separated the kitchen from the main room. He was stirring something in a mug. The kitchen window showed nothing but night on the other side of it.
Westley set the spoon down and walked over with the mug to sit on the couch. He’d put his clothes back on. Jaylen tried not to be disappointed. Westley hadn’t seemed to mind Jaylen eye-fucking his smooth chest earlier, so maybe if he asked real nice....
“It’s eleven,” Westley said.
“
Oh fuck. I have to go.” He put his feet on the floor. He wasn’t wearing his shoes. “Did you take my boots off?”
“
I wanted you to be comfortable.” Westley peered through his unkempt bangs, head lowered, as a hint of pink touched his cheeks. “Sorry.”
Jaylen ignored what that sheepish look did to his dick and kept looking around without getting off the couch. “Where are they?”
“By the fireplace. Hey.” Westley set his mug down. “It’s later.”
“
What?” Jaylen swiveled around to blink at him.
“
You said we could have sex again later. It’s later.”
“
Oh.” He hadn’t expected Westley to come out with
that
. “Well, yeah, but I meant tomorrow or something.”
“
So stick around.” Westley pressed on Jaylen’s leg. “Tomorrow’s only an hour away.”
“
West—”
He moved over to sit on the table and pulled the blanket off Jaylen. “My friends call me West—”
“I have to leave—”
“—
I like it when you do.” Westley undid Jaylen’s button and eased the zipper down. Jaylen watched, uncertain if he wasn’t moving because he couldn’t (bound by lust) or because he didn’t want to.
“
West—” Jaylen repeated, partly to stop him, and partly to see Westley smile. Westley pushed the table back and knelt between his legs. He didn’t push the table far enough and ended up having to untangle himself. Jaylen bit his lip so he wouldn’t laugh.
“
You’re not even going to let me blow you goodbye?”
“
Oh.”
Westley pulled Jaylen’s hardening cock free. He bent and kissed the tip. “I’m good. You’ll see.”
He struggled to get control of the situation away from his dick, which generally had no business being in the driver’s seat. “Westley, you’re not going to force me into a shotgun wedding, are you? Am I going to wake up tied to a bed like in
Misery
?”
Westley’s eyes glinted in amusement. “I solemnly swear I will not do any of those things. I want you to think about staying. It’s dark out there. What do you have to do this late, anyway?”
“I’m still paying for my room,” Jaylen said. “I need to get my money’s worth out of that trap.” Jaylen didn’t mean for his voice to shake as he forced a laugh, but Westley’s desperation bled off him. It was damned uncomfortable.
“
Well, if it makes you feel better, pretend you’re paying me.” He took Jaylen’s cock in his mouth, leaving Jaylen to connect his statement to his action.
Suddenly the situation had a new context. Jaylen pushed him off and bolted up.
“What?” Westley asked from the floor. He’d thrown a hand backwards to brace himself, but Jaylen’s shove had caused him to bang his back against the table.
“
I don’t—I’m not like that. I wouldn’t use you like—” Westley thought he would do that? Thought he’d be an asshole, take advantage....
“
Jaylen, it’s a game. Role play. It doesn’t mean any... oh shit.” Jaylen looked away as Westley figured it out. “You?”
“
Yeah.”
“
You meant— It’s not pretend for you, is it?”
“
No.” Jaylen still didn’t look, so he didn’t expect it when Westley hugged him. Westley had stood up, and now he framed Jaylen into an awkward embrace. Their chests were perpendicular to each other as Westley, bent at the waist, lay almost on top of Jaylen’s shoulders and pressed his face to Jaylen’s cheek. After a second, Jaylen put his arms around him.
“
I’m sorry,” Westley said.
“
It’s fine.” Jaylen patted his back. “I know it’s a fantasy for a lot of people, but—”
“
No, I should have asked if you were okay with me doing that. I’m not very smart sometimes.” Westley pulled away and started pacing.
“
I think you’re plenty smart,” Jaylen said, meaning it.
“
I’ll make you tea. I’ve got one that’s really good for calming nerves.”
“
My nerves are fine.”
“
I meant mine,” he said with an embarrassed smile.
“
Well, what’s in that mug?” Jaylen pointed at the one Westley had been drinking. “I could finish that.”
“
No.” Westley snatched it up. “I mean, it’s too strong.” He sipped and made a show of grimacing. “I’ll make you something else. I’ve got fresh mint. Does that sound good?”
“
Sounds perfect.” Jaylen slumped backwards, relieved the moment was past them.
“
Okay.” Westley almost tripped getting back to the kitchen. A few drops sloshed out of his mug. He steadied himself and kept going. Jaylen watched him rush around the kitchen. He smiled. He didn’t get to witness domesticity too often, certainly not like this where he was the object of it. Westley continued drinking the tea he’d claimed was too strong. When he went to the counter to accept his mug from Westley, Westley’s mug was sitting there, empty. He refilled it with what looked like the same tea as before.
“
Did you brew a less strong batch?” Jaylen asked.
Westley glanced at it and took a sip. He came away with another grimace, which somehow made him look more attractive. “Practice makes perfect,” he said brightly.
“Why don’t you dump it and start over? I can help you. I used to be pretty good at cooking.”
“
Waste not, want not,” Westley said. He pinched Jaylen’s elbow as he pulled him back to the couch. “That’s what Gram says. So, you cook, huh?”
“
Oh, yeah. I am a terror with a skillet.”
“
In that case,” Westley grinned, “you are totally on omelette duty in the morning.”
“
You’re on,” Jaylen said. He only realized when Westley kissed him that he’d basically agreed to spend the night. Putting his hands on Westley’s shoulders, he pushed. “You’re a manipulator, you know that?”
“
I have ninety channels dedicated solely to sports on my television.”
Jaylen eased his grip and pulled Westley in for a kiss. “Then I hope you’ve got a spare toothbrush.”
“Of course,” Westley said. He snuggled against Jaylen’s shoulder, somehow feeling lighter than his size indicated. “I have whatever you need.” Jaylen hooked his arm around him. ESPN was still on and had switched to a soccer game. Jaylen tested his tea. When he didn’t burn his tongue, he took a longer swallow.
“
Good?” Westley asked.
“
Yeah.”
“
It’s the fresh mint. Makes a huge difference. You know, you could grow herbs on the road, set up something in the back of your car—”
“
Westley, if you’re going to talk about gardening, I am fully willing to tell you to blow me.”
Rather than look insulted, Westley lit up. “You mean it? I mean, I can stop talking about gardening. I don’t want to pressure you into—”
“Westley. Please get on your knees and put my cock in your mouth.”
“
Oh.” Westley flushed as he obeyed. He looked up at Jaylen with a bright, eager smile. “I’m good. You’ll see.”
Jaylen lay his head back, finding he already believed him.
CHAPTER FOUR
JAYLEN WALKED OUT of Westley’s bedroom wearing his boxers and nothing else. He rubbed sleep out of his eyes.
“Hey sleepyhead,” Westley said. “Didn’t know if I’d see you before noon.”
“
Hey,” Jaylen said. He rubbed until the blur representing Westley cleared. He was in the kitchen again. For someone who claimed he didn’t cook, he sure seemed to live in there. “I thought breakfast was my realm today.”
Westley grinned. “Brunch now.” He walked around the counter, mug in hand. Although he’d slept naked—they both had—now he was wearing a pair of cut off sweatpants along with a ratty T-shirt. “It’s all yours.” He slapped Jaylen’s ass as he passed him. Jaylen caught his hand and pulled him in for a quick kiss.
“Same tea as yesterday?”
“
Yep.” Westley carried it over to the couch and sat down. He’d drunk another cup after they’d fucked again. As far as Jaylen could tell, he was mainlining the stuff like he was on an all-liquid diet. Jaylen found a clean skillet and spatula already on the stove. He pulled eggs and fresh spinach from the refrigerator. As he prepped omelettes, his stomach twisted into the beginnings of a cramp. He was almost at his twenty-four hour point on the drug. If he didn’t leave soon, he’d have to detox here. Not his idea of a great morning after.
No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than Westley cried out.
“West?”
Westley curled up on the couch clutching his stomach. Jaylen shut the stove off and raced to him. Grabbing Westley’s shoulder, he helped him sit up. “What happened?”
“Hurts,” Westley said. He curled forward. Tears beaded in his eyes.
Jaylen stared at his pale face. “Are you going to throw up?”
“I don’t think so.”
Forgetting his own pain, Jaylen offered his hand. “Okay, here, hold my hand and ride through the pain. Breathe.”
Westley glanced up. An ironic smile touched his lips. “I’m not having a baby, Jaylen. It’s a stomachache.” He squeezed Jaylen’s hand anyway.
“
Good. Because we would be screwed if that were happening.”
“
Ha.”
Westley was strong. Jaylen lost feeling in his hand before he let go.
“It’s your tea,” Jaylen said.
“
It’s not—”
“
You’ve been mainlining it. Tea isn’t supposed to be inhaled, Westley.”
“
Like you’re such a tea drinker.” Westley scooted away, seemingly through the worst of his pain.
“
I know things,” Jaylen said. He picked up Westley’s mug and sniffed. It smelled like a collision of cabbage and garlic. “Christ. What the hell is in this?”
“
I like it,” Westley said, with no conviction in his tone.
“
Uh huh. Which is why you were gagging on it last night.” Jaylen took a cautious sip.
“
No, don’t—” Westley lunged toward him, fingers splayed in panic like he was trying to stop Jaylen from jamming a fork in an electric socket.
Before Jaylen could parse that, the taste registered and he spat. He didn’t mean to spit in Westley’s face, but he couldn’t hold the vile taste on his tongue a second longer. “What the fuck. You do not like this. You can’t.”
“What do you mean I can’t?” Now he sounded defensive, as if swallowing his gross tea was a matter of personal pride.
Jaylen put the mug down. It was all he could do not to scuttle away from it. “How am I supposed to like someone who likes this shit?”
Westley blinked, then looked pleased. “You like me?”
“
It’s a saying.” Oh shit. He hadn’t meant to blurt that out. Even if it was the truth. But liking someone was not an option. Not even someone as hot and perfect as Westley. He’d
laid out towels for Jaylen’s shower and offered Jaylen a pair of clean underwear the night before.
Who was more perfect than that?
“
You like me is a saying?” Westley’s lips quirked up.
“
Westley. What the hell is this tea for?” Jaylen tried to reclaim the conversation before it went too far out of his control.
Westley’s face went firm, and he stood up. He plucked the mug from Jaylen’s hand. “It’s personal.”
“Tea is personal?”
Westley crossed his arms. “I have a condition.”
“A... oh.” He’d interpreted at first that Westley meant he wanted Jaylen to do something before he told him what the deal was, but based on Westley’s dropped gaze, Jaylen figured he meant ‘condition’ like medical. Jaylen didn’t need to go there with a guy who was still hitting the definition of a one night stand. “Okay. Sorry. Hey, man, I can respect your privacy. I was worried, all right?”
Westley grinned. “You do like me.”
“Yes, fine. I do. But it doesn’t mean anything. I’m not the settling down type.” Jaylen squared his shoulders in a way he knew made him look more macho. A non-settling down type of macho man.