~*Chapter Seven*~
The drive wasn't awkward, but there was an electricity between us that seemed to hum all around the inside of the car. We had managed to park in the underground and take the elevator up to my floor, unseen by any of the hotel staff, and thankfully 'Uncle Alec.' Once through the door, with just one bedside table lamp on, the room seemed unbearably small, and I could feel myself sweating underneath my jacket. I threw if off onto the dresser, not wanting to have to explain sweat stains. He was my best friend for over twelve years, and he'd seen me much worse, but I was frighteningly nervous now, and the only thing I wondered was if my breath smelled. I would have went to the bathroom for a 'private moment' but I didn't want to let him out of my site for fear that he'd be gone when I came out.
He went to the bar fridge and took out all the remaining mini bottles left in there. I didn't need anything else to drink, anything more would taint what we were about to do. I couldn't help but make a mental note as to how much the contents in the fridge were going to cost me at the end of the trip, but it was a brief moment of thought which was easily distracted by his fingers as I watched them pour two glasses of whiskey.
"I think we need these," he said handing me one. My hand lingered on his for just a moment, causing my stomach to flip and I was certain it did the same to him.
"I think I've had enough." I set the glass down gently, avoiding his eyes while I thought of the best way to ask my question.
The entire drive back to the hotel, I had one question on my mind, but I was afraid to hear the answer. I didn't know how else we were going to move ahead, so I thought I would just ask it, because I needed to know the truth.
"Truth," I said, searching out his eyes for an honest response. "Did you tell me that stuff last night about your marriage so I wouldn't feel so pathetic about my own?"
He breathed a few breaths before answering, "No." He looked down at the drink in his hand. "It was the truth. We can't have children. We've exhausted all our options." He quickly glanced up at me, and back down at his glass. "She wants a child, and I can't give her one," he said sadly.
We were standing at the foot of the bed, neither of us exactly comfortable where we were, so I glanced to the small loveseat next to the window. Clueless as to how or where to begin all this, I decided the sofa was looking like the best option at the moment.
"So where does that leave you?" I asked, moving to sit down hoping he would sit next to me. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed, which caused a slight feeling of disappointment, it was like we had taken two giant leaps backward from what had happened in the car.
"She's looking at donors," he said quietly.
"But I thought you said she—"
"Yeah, therein lies the problem. She says she loves me still but… she doesn't know how to move past this. She really doesn't want a stranger's child." He cleared his throat, and it hadn't gone unnoticed that he still hadn't looked at me, I just didn't know why. I wondered if it was embarrassment. Did he feel less of a man because he couldn't give her a child? I wouldn't even begin to imagine the feelings that were probably running through his head. Inadequacy? Shame? Guilt? Probably all of the above.
"It doesn't mean that you're any less of a man, Jas," I said quietly. "It just means you were meant for something else."
He scoffed at that, finally looking up at me.
"And what's that? That I'm destined to be gay 'cause I can't have children?" He chuckled. "Nice."
"That's not what I meant," I said in a serious tone. "I don't know what it means, but it doesn't change who you are, who I've always known you to be."
He really looked at me then, and something moved in my chest. The hurt in his eyes, was unbearably painful to me, and I wanted to comfort him, but my body wouldn't move.
He swallowed, and ran the back of his hand across his mouth as if he was covering up a smile. He might have been laughing, he might not of.
"What are we doing?" he finally asked, looking at me with pleading eyes from five feet away. "I don't know where this can go."
"Neither do I," I said, my voice cracking a little, "but I do know I can't ignore it anymore."
"What will you do? Would you leave her?" He had straightened up, all expression draining from his face. "Would you do that?"
I leaned forward, running my hands through my hair, thinking how I would respond to that… the question.
"I don't know. We're so messed up… I'm so messed up. It's not that simple… if it were another woman, well… it'd be different. You know? But this…" I looked to his eyes, my hands open, gesturing toward him. "This is a whole other life."
"Let me ask you this…" he said. "Would you stay with her if there wasn't this?"
"Probably."
"Why?" he asked, his eyes furrowing and he moved to sit beside me on the sofa. "Edward, you're miserable. Can you really lose yourself to that? You deserve to be happy."
"It's not that simple. I have a family." The words came out before I even realized what I was saying. I saw the hurt in his eyes at the mention of a family. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, "I didn't mean that. It's just I owe it to them to be there."
"You owe it to them and to yourself to be happy. That's what should matter. What are you teaching them if they grow up watching you and your wife the way you are?"
"I'm sorry you can't have children, Jasper, but you don't know what it means to be a father. I have to be there for them. What am I teaching them if I leave?"
He took a deep breath before speaking, trying to gain control of his emotions.
"You're right." He paused. "I don't know what it means to be father, but I do know what it's like to live in a home without love. You don't know what that's like. Your parents still love each other… believe me… that's not normal!" He laughed, leaning back against the sofa, letting his head flop back to look up at the ceiling. "My mother's on her third marriage. She says this is the one, but I know it isn't, and I hope she'll keep trying until she finds the right one because she deserves that. There's nothing wrong with wanting what your parents have. What's wrong is settling for something that isn't like theirs. Great loves do exist, Edward. Your parents are proof of that." He leaned forward, looking me directly in the eye. "Don't you want that?"
"I think that's the most you've ever spoken in one breath," I said laughing a little, trying to deflect myself from thinking about what he just said. Of course I wanted that, didn't everyone? But would I find that with him, with a man? I didn't know if I was brave enough to try.
"Are you trying to say that I could have that?" I looked away from him, and mumbled, "With you?"
I felt the cushion shift as he moved away from me and I was too afraid to look at his face, because whichever answer he gave me, I didn't think I was ready to hear.
"Before I answer that, there's something I need to ask of you," he said slowly.
"What's that?" I asked, raising my eyes back to him, seeking out whatever it was he wanted from me.
"Honesty," he said simply.
"Okay. Fair enough. I thought that's what we were doing." For a moment, I wondered if he thought I was being anything but honest with him.
"Did you come to Chicago hoping something would happen between us?" His face was hard while he waited for me to answer. I couldn't hide my shock, for that wasn't what I was expecting.
"No! Not at all!" I answered shaking my head. "I admit… I've been thinking a lot about that last night before I left, but I thought it was just me. When you showed up at my door yesterday, I didn't want to have those feelings… I really didn't, but seeing you again… alone." I paused trying to stop myself from rambling. "I just kept thinking about where I would be, where we would be if I hadn't left."
"You didn't have to leave that day. You could have stayed," he said. "But you ran… from me and this." He gestured between the two of us.
I was taken aback by what he was suggesting, almost as though it was my fault we were now in this predicament, together. I was the one who left, but neither one of us chose to explore that relationship further. There were countless invitations I extended to him to visit me, but they were never accepted, the only one being the invitation to my wedding, which he came with a date who turned out to be his future wife. I didn't understand where this blame or resentment was coming from and I asked him as much.
"I don't remember you asking me to stay," I added, "in fact, I clearly remember you not being there when the cab came to take me to the airport."
"I said goodbye," he said quietly.
"I think I'd remember if you—"
"You were asleep," he cut me off. "I went into your room after everyone had passed out." His words caused my heart to still, and I knew it was waiting for him to continue before it would start beating again. "I watched you for some time, ridiculously hoping you'd wake up on your own and know I was there."
"Why didn't you wake me up?" I asked, shaking my head.
"I thought… if you woke up, then it was meant to be, and if you didn't… then it wasn't. So I waited. But you never did." His expression was one of sorrow, and I reached for his hand. "If I'd just…" He hastily turned away from me, embarrassed by the emotions that had surfaced in him.
"It doesn't matter, now. We can't change it," I offered feebly, not sure what else to say. "I can't regret our decision, I know you don't want to hear it, but I wouldn't have my kids, and I wouldn't take that back for anything."
He leaned forward placing his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. His shoulders were slumped over. His mind was working overtime, mulling over something huge. I knew the set of those shoulders, and he was battling with something in his head.
"Jasper, do you want this?" I asked getting straight to the point.
"Yes," he whispered without hesitation. "But…" he trailed off, not finishing what he was about to say.
"There can't be any doubt, because we can't come back from this," I said. "Honesty, that's what you said."
After some time, he finally turned to face me, and his expression was so very different than what I was experiencing. He was sad, whereas, I had doubt and fear, but I was also feeling joy—joy at finally being able to be free with myself and with him.
"It's just that… I made a promise to her. I don't want to hurt her, and I don't want to hurt you. How do I do that?"
I thought hard about what I was going to say next, whatever it was, I had to be truthful with myself, and so did he, so I said the only thing that we both needed to hear.
"You follow your heart. And as long as you do that, I'll accept any decision you make."
"You want this, then?" He lowered his voice and added, "You want me?"
"Yes," I breathed.
"Aren't you scared?" he asked.
"Terrified," I responded honestly. "Look at my hands?" I held them up, my long fingers shaking delicately. He lifted his own, holding mine in his and squeezed them tightly.
"Me too," he said.
"What do we do?" I asked, laughing.
"Fucked if I know!" He shared my laughter. "I guess… we start where we left off, then figure it out as we go."
"Are we done talking, then?" My voice trembled while he rubbed his thumbs along the back of my hands.
He pulled me up off the loveseat, guiding me to the edge of the bed, the back of my knees bending a little with nowhere else to go. He stepped back, not saying a word but nothing in his expression told me he was second guessing this. I stared at him in amazement, swaying a little, wondering at his control, I could see the signs of strain just below his belt. He moved ever so slightly, his legs quivering and then I heard the slightest sound from him. It was a whispered moan which he tried to conceal by clearing his throat a little, running his hand over his mouth.
He started to unbutton his shirt, but I stopped him.
Immediately, he dropped his hands, closing his eyes, waiting for my hands to touch him. With unsteady fingers, I fumbled with the first button, it was a bit awkward with the buttons being on the other side, but by the third button, my hands were composed and his shirt opened easily enough. He was wearing a snug fitting white T-shirt underneath, the same style of shirt he walked around in the apartment back in university, but now he filled it out so much better than he ever had. It hugged his chest perfectly, showing the definition I had been kind of day-dreaming about all afternoon.
I pushed the shirt over his shoulders, caressing the muscles while I guided the shirt off of him. His breathing was staggered, and his eyes were still closed tight as if he was in pain. I gently grasped his arms, giving them a little squeeze, and moved so my mouth was next to his, slowly, inching my way forward until my lips were pressed against his. I heard the same whispered moan emitting from his throat, and I returned it with my own.
His hands came up to caress my cheeks, moving them all the way down my jaw line while I pulled him closer to me, until our hips pressed against each other, and I could feel his hardness through his jeans, just as he could feel mine. A rush of warmth passed through me, and I couldn't help but grab his waist and grind myself against him, eliciting another groan from the both of us.
His tongue was gentle, almost timid at first, but with the pressing of my cock next to his, everything became quick and visceral all at once. The whiskers below his lips, rasped against my chin, and I was surprised by how much I liked it, the rawness of it, like he was marking me somehow.
My hand moved to his neck, while the other grabbed the back of him, pulling him closer, so our chests were tight against each other. It was odd, remembering this… the feeling of a flushed chest, rather than the bosom of a woman, but it was a fleeting thought as his tongue drove further into mouth causing me to forget anything other than him and this moment.
I felt his fingers reaching for the edge of my T-shirt, and I couldn't stop myself from hissing as they met my flesh. He lifted my shirt up over my head in one quick movement, and I did the same with his, moaning as his bare chest—hot and solid— came crashing into mine. There was an urgency now, and with every touch of his fingers on my skin, he left a fiery trail in their wake. I wanted him… I wanted this. There was no question now, no hesitation, it was all by animalistic instinct what we would do next.
His hands slid down my back, and I felt the calluses on the palms of his hands… they were rough and foreign, but I relished every touch they made, pulling me closer to him as if I might disappear if he didn't.
My hands dove into his hair, grabbing and pulling until his lips broke away from my own. We didn't speak, not in so many words, but his eyes glanced to the bed and I nodded. He pushed me back down on the bed while his own body followed mine until his chest lay on top of me, hovering above me with one arm extended. He gave me a wry smile and I couldn't help but return it.
There was no other sound I could hear other than my own breath and my heart beating as though it was about to explode. We lay there for a moment, both of us gathering the courage to continue. I briefly wondered if he was going to change his mind, and the fear flooded my body, causing my stomach to turn. He shifted slightly, and his cock pushed against my own and I let out a deep sigh and closed my eyes.
"I don't know what to do," he whispered and my eyes shot open. His expression was shy and questioning and he waited for me to answer.
"I don't know either," I answered honestly, but I lifted my hips ever so slightly and he groaned in pleasure and let out a sigh.
"Okay," he said softly, while leaning down and placing his lips on my neck. He bit down gently and goosebumps rose all over my body. I shivered and Jasper chuckled, but continued making his way down my neck to my chest.
My heart was hammering, and the sound reverberated in my ears. I started to panic a little as Jasper moved lower, biting and sucking his way to the belt on my jeans. I wasn't sure I was ready, I wasn't sure if he was ready for this, but my cock twitched in anticipation at the idea of his mouth around it. It had been way too long since anyone's mouth had been around my dick, and I hoped this—or the alcohol I had consumed this evening— wasn't clouding my judgment. I wanted this to be real, but there were too many factors stacking up against me.
"Are we sure?" I asked, grabbing his shoulders and stopping him. "I-I just want you to be sure."
"Edward, I'm sure... if you're not, that's okay..."
"No, it's just... I'm nervous. It's been awhile for me, well... since...anything." I couldn't look him in the eyes and turned my head to the side.
I felt his hands at my belt, his fingers touching flesh as he carefully pulled the leather through the loop and I heard the jingle of the belt as it came undone.
"I want to do this... for you," he said. His fingers slowly undid my buttonfly's one by one and the sensation of it was so tortuous that I had to hold my breath concentrating on anything other than the fact that my best friend was about to suck my cock.
"Breathe," he whispered, grabbing my hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.
I relaxed my muscles and relinquished myself to his touch. His hands made quick work of my jeans, leaving me in boxer briefs with a painfully erect prick sticking out the top of them. He slid back up my body placing himself over me again and kissed me hard, and deeply, and I finally let the last of my tension release from my body willingly.
I wanted to feel him.
Neither of us had touched the other, and all I kept thinking was that I wanted to grab his cock in my hand. With trembling hands, I reached down between us and did for him what he had done for me. With both of our jeans tossed to the floor and both of us clothed in only the thin fabric of our boxers, he pushed down on top me, our hips grinding into each other's stiff cock.
I cried out a little and lifted my hips all at the same time. Jasper pulled back, moving to his side looking at me pleadingly.
"Touch me," he whispered, "please."
I finally got a look at Jasper and was shocked and amazed by the feelings stirring while I admired his body. I'd always admired women, their hips, their curves, their tits and even their pussies, but Jasper had none of that, and yet I wanted him... my body clearly wanted him.
I saw the tip of his dick poking through the top of his boxers, and the first thought that popped into my head was that I wanted to lick it. I started to move, but stopped myself, and instead, lifted my hand and gently traced his nipple with my finger while he mirrored my movement. I ran my finger down the trail of hair that lead directly to his waiting cock and taking a deep breath, I reached out taking hold of his length.
He groaned pushing up into my hand.
"Fffuuuck," he let out a low breath and I marveled at the feel of another man's dick in my hand while thinking that I wanted to touch flesh not fabric.
I released my hold and he swore again, but I hardly noticed as he captured my mouth in his own, hands and cocks wavered frantically all over the place while we tried to remove our boxers... and then I felt it. His hand reached out grabbing me firmly, flesh and flesh and it was my turn to curse.
My head dropped back on the pillow, my eyes rolling to the back of my head as Jasper started stroking, slow and easy at first, and then found an easy rhythm that was sure to make me come sooner than I had hoped. It was tempting to just lose myself in the sensation of his hand on my flesh, but I didn't want this to end so soon... I didn't know if there would be another chance for this.
"Jasper... slow," I managed to breathe out, my eyes closed, "I won't last." I reached out to hold him but he moved away, further down my chest where his lips were precariously close to the tip of my cock.
"I want this," he said, "let me, please?"
My stomach tensed while my balls tightened. I had to force myself to relax and concentrate on anything other than the idea of Jasper's tongue tasting my dick. After all this time, all these years, it was finally happening and my body was reacting. I never wanted to forget this moment, and I never wanted to let him go.
His hand moved to my thigh while the other cupped my balls, squeezing them ever so slightly, and I moaned loudly, surprised and unsure of where it came from. I watched as his hand moved from my balls back up to the base of my cock. His head lowered while his tongue darted out from between his lips touching the tip and licking the hole. Every nerve in my body erupted and I couldn't stop my gasps as his warm, wet mouth engulfed me.
I cursed again and ran my hands over my face a few times. I grabbed hold of my hair, hoping to feel some pain to distract me from my arousal as Jasper's tongue encircled me. My cock was throbbing and the pulse of it seemed to spread up my hips along my spine causing my body to scream out in satisfaction. The sensation of having another man's mouth on me, a man I loved, was indescribable. Never had I felt this with my wife, but I was fairly certain it was the forbidden pleasure of it that was causing this new sensation. It was wrong... and I knew it, but I wanted it and made me want it that much more. Our stifled desire for each after all these years was like a dormant volcano waiting to erupt.
My hands fisted the sheets as I dug me heels into the bed. I was so close...
"Jas," I breathed heavily. "I'm gonna..." I warned him. It was all I could manage as I felt the throbbing start at the back of my hips, moving through my stomach all the way down to my thighs. My cock came free of his mouth while he backed away and, instinctively, I pushed my hips upward, crying out loudly as the orgasm washed through me spilling out all over my stomach.
I wasn't sure if my heart would ever beat at a normal pace again. There was a thin layer of sweat covering my body and I felt a trickle of moisture trailing down from my brow and wondered at the heightened senses I was feeling. My body was alive, as if it was on fire and I was soaring up with the flames.
Jasper's hand gently came up to my forehead, wiping the drip away, caressing my skin, while placing a tender kiss on my lips. He let out a precious sigh that seemed to speak so much more than words ever could.
I returned his kiss and pulled him to me, wrapping my arms around him in a possessive embrace while I rolled him on to his back. We kissed for a little longer, grinding ourselves against each other, the skin of our cocks touching and creating friction that quickly made me hard again. We were reveling in the sensation, and I noticed Jasper's pace had quickened ever so slightly. He let a long moan exhaling into my mouth and his fingers came up to my hair gripping firmly and pulling my head back.
"Oh fuck," he said, biting his lip, pushing his hips up harder and faster with each thrust. "Fuck," he cried out again. His hips were moving fervently now and I wanted to make him come, just as he had made me, I reached down to touch him, but he stopped me.
"No, like this..." he said, thrusting upward again... "together."
My lips met his, mirroring his thrusts and I cried out in pain and pleasure as the bone from his hip connected with me. I needed to feel that sensation again and drove my cock into his hip crushing and rubbing until I couldn't stand it anymore.
Jasper had moved his hands from my hair to my ass, digging his fingertips into flesh, guiding me, pushing me down harder onto him and I felt his arms tense and quickly glanced at his face. His eyes were shut tight, biting his lip so hard I thought he might have drawn blood.
"Now," I whispered, watching his face as he struggled to let go.
With a few grunts and yell, his body tensed underneath me and then relaxed as he let out a long exhale. He opened one eye and his lips curled up into that smile I had loved for all these years. He pushed up with one final thrust and the combination of that and the look on his face caused me to come only moments after he had.
We lay beside each other, panting and flushed, covered in sweat and a white sticky mess. It wasn't at all what I expected, but then again, I didn't know what I had expected. I suddenly felt very naked, something I had never felt with a woman before. I wanted to cover myself up, but the sheets were in disarray on the floor and I was too chicken to get up or move.
There was no sound other than our labored breathing.
"Huh," Jasper said rubbing his chest.
"Huh?" I questioned.
"Not what I thought," he mumbled.
Reflexively, I snapped my head to the side to look at him and he laughed.
"Relax," he chuckled, "that's a good thing." He turned on to his side resting his head on his hand. "It was easier than I thought... you know..." He glanced down to my flaccid dick, and I felt extremely naked now so I moved to cover myself but only managed to make a further mess of everything.
"Then again... it wasn't," he said, all joking aside, "that other... stuff."
"Yeah," I said, holding up my hand that was now covered in my own mess looking around for something to wipe it on. "Do you think you could... you know... do that?" I asked, still holding up my hand.
"Honestly? I don't know," he answered, then laughed looking at my hand. "You need a shower."
"So do you!" I glanced down at him, the evidence of both of us on his skin, just as it was on mine.
"Do you?" He raised his eyebrows to me questioning if I was ready to go down that road.
I cleared my throat, trying to figure out how I would respond. We were both extremely vulnerable right in this moment, so I had to be honest in how I answered.
"I admit... I'm definitely curious, but I don't think I'm ready tonight."
He let out a sigh of relief, rolling back on to the bed.
"Was it not what you thought?" he asked.
"What?" I exclaimed. "No, it was amazing, but I think you know that. This," I gestured between us and the bed, "this only showed me that I really do love you. I couldn't do this with anyone. There isn't anyone I'd want to share that experience with. I wanted to get as close to you as possible. I wanted to breathe you, to feel you... and next time, if there is one, maybe we can explore this a little more," I finished with a whisper.
He lay on his back looking up at the ceiling. He was thinking again and I couldn't bear the idea of not knowing what was in his head. I opened my mouth to ask, but then he spoke before I could.
"I love you, too," he said closing his eyes, and that look of pain from earlier crossed his face again. I made a move to reach out to him, but then remembered my hand, and stopped, hovering just above his chest.
As if he could sense it there, he slowly opened his eyes, narrowing in on my hand and then jumped up from the bed.
"Come on," he said walking toward the bathroom, "shower."
