Thank you for not lynching me (well, most of you, anyways, LOL) when I ended the last chapter at that crucial point! Here, we pick up exactly where the last chapter left off. Enjoy!
-o-
Jack
No need to jump into each other's arms – his are still around me, holding onto my waist despite me stepping back as I turned. He has stepped with me and tightens his lock on me. "Jackie!" he exclaims with a brilliant smile.
I loop my arms around his shoulders and crush him to me. "Jacey! You're here," I reply excitedly. He burrows his face into my chest for a moment before lifting his head to shine that smile at me again. "I was about to start sweating bullets if I didn't see you soon!"
"I saw you from the side," he grins, "and I knew you hadn't seen me. I couldn't resist sneaking up from behind." His voice drops to a murmur. "I'm so glad to see you."
In reply I bend my head to his for a chaste kiss. My hand strokes the soft locks of hair that lie against the back of his neck. His strong arms around me threaten to crack one of my ribs, but I honestly don't care. When his lips pull away from mine, I can't help a little sigh of happiness. At hearing it, his smile brightens even more as he comprehends what it means.
"Come on, sweet boy." I wriggle out of his arms but claim one of his hands. "Let's get your stuff."
He turns and bends to pick up his laptop case from the floor beside him, then we walk to the baggage carousel. We chat about the flight while he watches for his stuff to come around. "Ah, there's my suitcase," he says, "and there's my guitar case." I grasp his suitcase and he picks up a black hard-shell guitar case.
"This suitcase is pretty light for the size of it," I comment. We head in the direction of the parking garage.
He looks sheepish. "I know it's huge, but I use it because I can put my portfolio inside it along the bottom instead of having to carry it separately."
"Your portfolio?"
"Yeah, you know. My artwork," he clarifies. "I just can't go a week without it. I have to draw."
"Of course," I nod in understanding. "Maybe you'll show me some of your work?" He hesitates, and I look over at him to find him blushing a bit. "Is that a no?"
"I'll show you. It's just…for a long time I didn't show anyone what I drew, you know? Even in high school I somehow managed to avoid much exhibition of my stuff, other than to my teachers. I know I have to get over it so I'm forcing myself to show it to people I trust." He grimaces. "It still makes me nervous, though."
His modesty is so endearing that I can't help putting my arm around his shoulder and drawing him close to me, but to put him more at ease I change the subject. "Hey, how did I not know you played guitar?"
"Oh, I mostly just play around for fun," he shrugs. "I brought it because I'll have time during the day; thought I could learn a couple new songs while I'm here."
"Do you sing too?" I prod.
He chuckles. "Well…I'm not sure if you could really call it singing." He doesn't seem nearly as self-conscious about music; maybe it's because he does it only for his own enjoyment. On the other hand, he hopes to have a career based on his artwork, making those stakes much higher.
We get to my car and load his stuff into the trunk. After I slam the trunk lid, our eyes meet again; we both hold the gaze till simultaneously we move into each other's arms again. Without kissing, without speaking, we just hold each other for a long time. Jacey's head is tucked into my neck and my hand is irresistibly drawn to stroke his smooth hair again. "Mmm," he finally says. "That feels so nice."
I kiss his forehead and reluctantly pull away. "Let's get you home." His eyes dart to my face and he gives me a funny look, almost searching. "What?" I ask.
He looks for a moment longer, then his face relaxes into a grin. "Nothing. Let's go."
We each slide into my A4 and before long we're on our way back to Boystown. Once I'm on the highway and no longer need to shift, Jacey's hand rests in mine on my lap. He tells me about his friends' incredulous looks when he told them he was choosing Chicago over Galveston for spring break. "They couldn't understand that I'd choose to spend the week with only one person, instead of 'nailing' as many people as possible." He shakes his head disgustedly. "I swear all they think about is...pussy."
I can't help chuckling at his delicate shudder. I add an exaggerated, "Ugh!" and he grins at me.
We sit in silence for a few moments before I ask, "So what did your mom think of your decision to come to Chicago?" Jacey has been raised by his single mother, never having known his father at all.
"Um…"
"You did tell her, didn't you?" I add.
"Yes!" he answers hastily. "Yes, of course I told her. I've never successfully lied to my mother, not once, so I stopped trying a long time ago."
"Okay," I reply slowly. "Good." I release his hand to put both hands on the wheel. There's another pause before I push, "So I guess that means she wasn't happy about it."
"Well…" He hesitates before sighing. "She didn't forbid me to come or anything. I mean, she can't now, and that wouldn't be her style anyways. But she wasn't exactly thrilled about it." I don't respond. "I promised her I'd get to some museums while I was here and that it'd be good for my art. I don't think she quite bought that, but she didn't say much about it."
Quietly I ask, "She knows you're coming here to be with me? She doesn't think this is just a change of venue from Galveston?"
His reply is almost just as quiet. "She knows." I simply nod, and from the corner of my eye I see him shift his upper body to angle towards me. I keep my eyes on the road. "Jackie," he says, his voice sounding almost pleading, "you know it's not personal, right? She's my mom; she worries about me. It was just her and me for a long time, you know?" I nod once. "The circumstances worry her, and the fact that she doesn't know you, but she trusts my judgment of you." I feel his fingers stroke my cheek.
I reach up to take his hand again, pressing my lips to his fingers. I meet his eyes quickly and give him a little smile before returning my eyes to the road. We're silent then and my thoughts are torn. On one hand, I'm reminded how young Jacey still is. It's been a long time since I had to really worry about something like incurring my parents' disapproval on where I take my holidays. On the other hand, he did tell her the truth and he addressed her concerns in what seems to have been a mature manner. The fact that she trusts him means something, too.
An unbidden memory appears in my head from the night I met Jacey in Austin. Taking a cab from the club where we met, back to my hotel…
When we pulled up in front, I handed the driver enough cash to cover the fare and the tip, and slid out of the car, holding the door open till Jacey got out. He paused for a second in the seat, looking at the cabbie who said something to him that I couldn't hear.
"No, thank you," Jacey politely answered with a smile. "I appreciate you asking, though."
After I closed the door behind him and the cab drove off, I asked him what the driver had said. "He said I didn't have to get out, that if I was feeling unsafe I could stay in and he'd take me where I wanted to go, no charge."
What prompted the cabbie to make that offer?
Jacey's phone plays a short tune, interrupting my reverie. He pulls it out of his pocket and peers at the screen. "Speak of the devil," he says quietly, untangling his fingers from mine. His thumbs fly over the keypad. "I sent her a text right after I landed," he explains. "She must have just gotten time to read it. Saturday's her busiest day. Weddings." Jacey's mother Leah is a florist.
He tucks the phone back into his pocket as we turn onto my street. We pull up in front of the apartment and he leans into the window to see the architectural detail. "Such a great building," he comments with satisfaction.
Forcing myself to shrug off the melancholy, I grin. "Yeah, what can I say? You've got quite an eye." He turns and flashes me a thousand megawatt smile, his face flushing with pleasure. "Come see what it looks like inside now."
We grab his stuff out of the trunk and carry it in. My apartment is on the second floor of the secure three-storey building, which is pretty well perfect. I'm not right at the ground floor which makes me feel a bit more secure, yet if I'm coming into the house with my arms full of stuff I don't have to lug everything up multiple flights of stairs. I unlock my apartment door and push the door open, then stand back and gesture him in with a flourish of my arm. "After you."
He steps in and immediately puts his things down so he can take off his shoes. The sidewalks outside are sloppy and messy as things melt, and I silently praise his consideration, especially for someone who's not used to snow. Once we've both taken off our winter layers and hang them on the hooks inside the door, I usher him in for the grand tour. The front door opens essentially into the living room, though there's a small alcove here which serves as foyer. The apartment is long, taking up one entire half of this storey. The living room flows unbroken into the dining room and beyond the table are the sliding doors that go out onto the rear balcony. A decent-sized kitchen is also on the back wall. Heading towards the front of the apartment through the living room, I have long shallow closets along the apartment's inside wall, and the bathroom on the outside. Beyond those is my bedroom which is at the front, and the walk-in closet which also, oddly, has a window on the front of the building. There are three bay windows in this apartment: one in the living room on the side wall, another on the side wall of my bedroom and one on the front wall in my room.
There are hardwood floors throughout, aside from the bathroom, kitchen and foyer, which all have ceramic tile. I love that this isn't a new, square-box building - it has fantastic charm. Jacey loves the architecture of the building's exterior; I'm in love with its character. The kitchen and bathroom were both newly updated just a few years ago, but with attention to the original style of the building. The bathroom has new white penny tile floors, and the tile extends halfway up the wall. All in all, I'm so glad Jacey convinced me to take this apartment, even though it's a longer walk to the subway than the other was.
As I show Jacey through again and he sees all my stuff for the first time, I'm struck by how tactile Jacey is. His hands are constantly reaching out, his fingertips gliding along the back of my sofa as we pass it, running over the smooth bathroom tiles, stroking the gauzy sheers in my front bedroom window. No wonder he's so passionately responsive when it comes to sexuality; he's a very sensual being.
By the time he's seen the whole thing, it's clear the apartment gets his stamp of approval. We go back out to the foyer to retrieve his bags and carry them to my bedroom. He tucks his suitcase inside the closet and sets his guitar case in the corner, then comes to stand facing me in the middle of the room.
Abruptly it seems we're both bashful. We just stand, looking shyly at each other for long seconds, till Jacey finally whispers, "Hi."
"Hi," I murmur back, and those little words break the ice. Jacey makes the first move, stepping into my arms, and I clasp him tight to me. He's finally here. "Jacey," I whisper into his hair. "Jacey, Jacey. I'm so glad you're here, sweet boy."
He doesn't reply, instead lifting his face to kiss me. His mouth opens immediately to mine and our tongues find each other somewhere in the space between breath and moan. My hands move to the back of his neck, feeling that soft hair twine among my fingers. His hands roam all over my upper body, stroking my muscles through the thin layer of deep grey cashmere, before slipping up underneath the sweater along my abs. My muscles twitch a little with the soft caresses, a hint of ticklishness there. Instinctively he increases his pressure. He's wearing a sweater too, but it's a chunky cable-knit, and I soon decide there is far too much fabric between the two of us. I lift his sweater and he raises his arms over his head so I can slide it off. As I doff my own sweater (and carefully place it on my dresser) he slips off his t-shirt.
I turn back to him and bend slightly to put my hands under his ass, lifting him so he wraps his legs around my waist. We return to our passionate kisses and I walk him carefully to my bed and lower us both onto it. He releases his hold on me, relaxing his denim-clad legs before beginning a slow, sensual undulation of his body beneath me. I reciprocate, a deliberate, unchoreographed samba, feeling his hips press and twist, his feet sliding up and down my legs.
"Ohhh, god," he groans. "Jack, I've missed you." His hands slide between us to the button of his slim dark blue jeans and I roll off him to let him open them. He slips them off, together with his briefs, and at once his beautiful young cock is standing proudly from his groin. I move towards him but he stops me, pushing me onto my back so he can remove my slacks and briefs as well. Within seconds we are both gloriously naked, tumbling together across the surface of the bed, limbs intertwined, seeking greater contact of skin against skin. His skin against my naked cock is almost too much to handle. I need to be inside him like I've never needed anything before.
As though he's reading my mind he whispers hoarsely, "Condoms?" I reach to my night table drawer and pull out a condom and lube. Taking the lube first he pushes me down onto my back. Rising up onto one knee, his other foot moves across me as though he's going to straddle my body, but he remains on his knee. After squeezing some lube onto two fingers he reaches behind and slips those fingers inside. His eyes close and his head lolls backs slightly, and fuck, I swear I could probably come just from watching him pleasure himself. He moans softly through parted lips, fingering and stretching his opening.
I grab the condom and put it on, then take the lube from him and put a generous coating on the rubber. After returning the bottle to my table, my still-slick fingers dance around the frenulum of Jacey's cock. "Please," I coax, "I need to be inside you."
"Yeah," he groans. "I need you." Removing his fingers he lowers himself over me until I'm nestled into the divot of his tight entrance. He takes a deep breath and releases it as he presses down, allowing me to fill him completely, the last of his breath pushing out in a soft grunt. He sits on my hips, possessing my entire length in him. I lie still beneath him for as long as I can bear it, before begging him to continue.
When he begins to move, it's with painstakingly slow circles, grinding his ass against my hips. Not even my lube-covered fingers teasing the head of his cock can make him increase his speed. He leans forward, putting his hands on my shoulders and looking deep into my eyes.
"Jaceyyyy," I sigh, my voice roughened with lust, "you're making me crazy." He halts his movements and gives me a wicked little smile. He lowers his face to mine for a kiss; his motion rocking forward pulls his ass up away from me. I pull back as well, hoping for greater thrusting. When he releases my lips he finally relents, rising and falling over my hips while still holding my gaze. His face and neck are flushed, his sweat-damp hair sticking to his skin around his hairline. A few times he squeezes his blue-grey eyes closed, betraying the struggle he's having while he attempts to maintain his control.
Remembering how he responds to touch, I let my hands roam over his body, up his thighs and hips, across his chest and abs, stroking his face and hair. Soon his movements become a bit less graceful, a bit more uncontrolled. Need is beginning to surpass control, and I can almost watch it happen on his face. Sliding my hands up his thighs once more, I stop at his groin, taking his cock in one hand and his balls in the other. I begin a slow stroke up and down his cock, giving a little twist and a squeeze each time I reach the head. My hand on his sac gently massages. He stops his movements, his entire body trembling. The look of concentration on his face tells me he is right at the edge and holding on desperately.
I've been lying here nearly silent, just enjoying his beauty. Now I start talking to him, telling him how gorgeous he is, how tight and hot he feels around me, and how good it is when he rides my cock. He's panting unashamedly, wearing the look of one who's in a runaway raft floating downstream and heading for a massive waterfall. I continue stroking his cock and when I tell him, "I've waited so long to have you here, in my bed," he breaks at last.
"Ohhhh," he moans before crying out. His hot white jizz lands on my stomach and chest. Just as his peak begins to drop, I grasp his hips and slam up into him a few times, coming hard right after him, gasping his name. As we come down from our high he grinds on me a few more times, milking the last of my climax.
He lifts himself off of me, his face damp and flushed. "Washcloths?" he asks.
"The linen closet in the hallway, outside the bathroom," I reply.
"Stay there." He grabs a washcloth before disappearing into the bathroom. Hearing the water running, I remove the condom. In a moment he returns with a washcloth. He gently cleans me off, tosses the washcloth into my clothes hamper and climbs back into bed with me where I pull the covers up over us both.
I draw him into my arms, unwilling to let him stir even a few inches from me. Fortunately he seems to be happy with the close proximity. We lie together for a long time. His hair is pushed back from his face and neck, tickling my bare shoulder. To be here with him, naked and stretched out together is such bliss. I kiss his forehead repeatedly; his fingers trace lazy circles on my chest.
Eventually his movements still and his breathing deepens, stretching to longer, regular intervals. I fight against my own drowsiness in hopes of hearing the soft sigh Jacey makes in his sleep. It's not long before I'm rewarded with that sweet sound of contentment. Thoroughly satisfied, I drift off into beatific slumber.
-o-
When I wake the light has changed. My bedroom, on the northwest corner of the building, is shaded by the building next to mine and the room is quite dim now. I can see a glow in the hall, the last beams of light from the red winter sunset that will, right now, be filling my main living space with light.
Moving carefully so as not to disturb Jacey, I lift my head far enough to see the clock on my night table. It's 5:30 p.m. I've slept three hours here with Jacey. I didn't even know I was tired, but this was the best sleep I've had in…I can't even remember.
Within a few moments Jacey is beginning to stir. He stretches his long limbs and yawns before opening his eyes. When he first focuses on me he gives me a sleepy smile, but within a few seconds he startles. "Jack!" he exclaims. "I fell asleep – I'm sorry."
I chuckle, telling him, "We both did, sweet boy. Look at the clock."
He cranes his neck to see. "Holy shit, 5:30?" His face screws up in confusion before his head drops back to my chest. "How is that possible?"
"I'd say we wore each other out," I answer as a deep stretch overpowers me. As much as I'd love to stay here in bed with him, I need to make sure I take care of him too. "I guess we should probably think about getting ready to go for dinner."
"Oh…yeah," he says, giving me a kiss on the cheek before rolling away. He gets up and picks up his clothes, looking for his underwear.
"There's this seafood restaurant downtown – my assistant was telling me about it. It's supposed to be pretty great," I mention casually.
"Whatever you like is fine with me, Jackie." He finds his underwear and after putting them on, straightens up and smiles at me still lying on the bed. "You know I love seafood."
"Of course," I muse, "I did also buy some shrimp and scallops. We could stay in, make some pasta?"
"Really?" Jacey's entire body language changes with my suggestion, his shoulders lifting and face brightening. "If you don't mind, I think I'd rather stay here."
I also roll out of bed and, still naked, cross the room to where he stands. "If I don't mind? I'd much rather stay in with you!" I assure him as I wrap my arms around his waist. "I just…didn't want to be selfish. You know; it's your first night in Chicago."
"Jack, I didn't come here because I was in a desperate panic to see Chicago. I came for you." I bend my head down to rest it on his shoulder. "And I plan to come for you…again and again…"
My cock twitches at his implication and I squeeze him tighter, adding, "…and again."
"I didn't want to be greedy." He grins.
I throw my head back for a hearty laugh, in which he joins me. "Be greedy," I advise him. "Help me justify my own greed."
We make dinner together. I put Jacey in charge of stirring the cream sauce while it reduces. I make the pasta, sauté the shrimp and scallops and whip up a quick salad, completing our meal. When we sit at the table, Jacey pulls one knee up under his chin, his foot resting on the seat of the chair. I don't say anything, just grinning at the childlike pose. I've eaten with him before, of course, so I know his table manners are impeccable; and I don't see this as poor manners. It's a comfortable pose, easy familiarity that doesn't stand on ceremony.
The kind of ease you feel when you're home.
Our conversation flows readily throughout dinner. Jacey's hands float gracefully in the air while he gestures, describing a canvas his friend is working on. I'm a little surprised by how I feel at having him here, at my table, in my apartment. I've always been so protective of my space and of my privacy, but Jacey looks like he belongs here as he compliments the white tulips against the cobalt blue glass pitcher.
After dinner we both carry our stuff to the kitchen, our chatter never letting up while we clean up the dishes – me washing, Jacey drying – then drift to the couch. I sit with my back against the arm of the couch, facing Jacey; he sits mirroring my pose, close enough that our knees touch. It's so natural to reach out and touch him as we talk – casually stroking his arm, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear.
Eventually we're interrupted by the phone ringing. I lean to check the caller ID, intending to ignore it unless it's long distance. The number is Jasper and Edward's. "Sorry," I tell Jacey. "It's long distance. I should answer it."
"Of course," he replies with a smile, gesturing to the phone.
I answer to hear Jasper's warm greeting. I return it just as warmly, asking him how married life is. I am so glad for the way Edward and Jasper's life has turned out. The Edward I used to see in the clubs in Seattle is nothing like the brilliantly happy man I've come to know since he and Jasper fell in love. Jasper and I chat, catching up on various things – work, family, mutual friends. Jacey moves around the room for a few moments, looking at my artwork and all my books, till I feel his hand gently touch my arm. I turn to him and he mouths, I'm going to take a shower. I nod, kiss his cheek silently and return to my conversation with Jasper.
As intuitive as Jasper is, he senses something's up. Since I can hear the water running in the bathroom I give him a quick explanation of my visitor for the week. Jasper is especially interested that I met Jacey in Austin when I was there for their wedding. I warn him that this is only the third time I've gotten together with Jacey. He immediately scoffs, "Yeah, and the third time just happens to be him travelling a thousand miles to stay with you for a week. Just your average third date." He tells me I sound happy and that he hopes Jacey's the reason for that.
I would stay on the phone with him longer, but I really would like to slide into the shower with Jacey before he's done. I tell Jasper I have to go, promising him more details and a rundown of my week with Jacey next time we talk.
I slip silently into the bathroom and strip off my briefs and the long jersey pants I have on. I peek into the shower; Jacey's eyes are squeezed shut as he rinses the shampoo out of his hair. I manage to get in without him seeing or hearing me, and immediately kneel in front of him. It isn't until I take his gorgeous cock into my mouth that he startles and looks down at me.
"Oohhhh, god, Jack, "he moans. You're going to make my knees buckle." As if to prove his point he braces his hands against the shower walls.
I massage his cock with my tongue for just a moment before standing. "Are you all done in here?" I ask.
"Yeah."
"Meet me in bed," I urge. I could take him here in the shower, but maybe another time this week. Tonight, I really just want him in my bed. He slips out of the shower and I quickly wash up, following him within moments.
I walk into my bedroom and stop short at the sight of him on my bed. He lies on his back, one arm up over his head. One leg is stretched out straight, the other pulled up; his cock is nestled against his inner thigh, long but not yet hard. He wears a half-smile, watching me expectantly.
I am a fucking lucky guy.
I climb onto the bed beside him, kneeling and lowering my face close to his. "You're beautiful," I whisper, and watch his cheeks color with pleasure.
The rest of the night is spent in slow, sweetly passionate sex. There is none of the urgency of this afternoon. We take our time, exploring every inch of each other; licking, stroking, sucking for what seems like hours. When I do finally sink deep inside him, there's a connection I've never experienced before; when we explode together I repeat his name over and over; and when we lie together afterwards in a sweaty, satisfied heap of tangled repose, I feel a new kind of happiness – one that doesn't involve being content only in myself, but in another person as well.
It is an exciting prospect…and I am scared as hell.
-o-
For everyone who was so eagerly anticipating their reunion (as was I) I hope you're as satisfied as Jack and Jacey are. :) And I think they're pretty damn satisfied. Whew! Photo inspiration for Jacey on Jack's bed? On the blog!
Thank you to everyone who participated in MsKathy's Haiti compilation fundraiser, whether as an author or donor. Total raised was – are you ready for this - $75,486.61! AMAZING!
On February 4th, the Perv Pack's Smut Shack will feature an interview between EJ Santry and yours truly! Why do I write slash? Where did Bethie cash in her V-card? What would you find in my "naughty drawer"? You won't know unless you read!
