by Mandy Rosko
Jamie tried to focus on his pizza, on chewing and swallowing and so on. He even thought of what Ethan was going to say to the people in Head Office when he returned with his injuries, and without Jamie, but no, that didn't work. Of course that wasn't what Jamie's stupid brain wanted to think about. All he could think about, what with the way he was sitting, was the last time his knees had been up in this ridiculous position.
It hadn’t been so ridiculous for how good it had felt at the time though. They'd been in bed, of course, with Jamie sitting in Ethan's lap, slowly riding his cock, squeezing his anal muscles around the shaft on each up and down, back and forth motion, driving the both of them wild.
There had been no sound in the room other than that of their ragged moans and harsh breaths. Jamie could still recall exactly how warm Ethan's skin had been, how smooth it had felt and hard his muscles tensed every time Jamie moved. He could still feel it even. God, he could even remember the exact shade of pink Ethan’s lips were as they parted just slightly while he'd gasped for breath, throwing his head back and exposing his strong throat for Jamie to kiss and suck on.
Okay, not cool. Bad, bad, bad. The sudden throb and twitch in his cock was enough of a sign that he was thinking too much about this.
Shake it once and it was fine. Shake it three times meant that he was playing with himself. Well, thinking about the sex he’d had with Ethan was fine. Thinking about sex he’d had with Ethan until he had an aching hard on meant he wasn’t thinking. He was fantasizing about it, teasing himself.
Not good. Not with Ethan right beside him.
Thank God Ethan wasn't a paranormal, a werewolf, or anything else that could pick up the scent of lust in the air.
Well, he could, but Ethan’s face wasn’t exactly right in front of Jamie’s cock, and the cheesy smell of pizza was still the most dominant scent in the room.
What was wrong with him? They were both adults. The idea of sex shouldn't have been a big deal, but it was. Jamie didn't think he could handle it. If he brought it up, it would only be because he was begging for it. One last romp before they never saw each other again. Sex was the last thing they both needed, but it was also the only thing Jamie wanted.
Today Jamie had survived being chased down by a hunter, and then he’d blasted white-hot lightning at a few nutso paranormals, but he wouldn't survive the embarrassment of having Ethan see his hard-on through his jeans. Or worse, if the man turned down the request for him to do something about it.
A buzzing started up inside of his body. Nothing too bad, nothing he couldn’t contain with a little meditation.
Ten more seconds of Fred yelling into his mic and he was ready to snap. He couldn’t stand it anymore. Jamie needed to say something, anything just to take his thoughts away from how horny he was because Fred wasn’t helping him out with that. “I didn't know hunters listened to this guy.”
It was the adrenaline from the buildup of his natural energy magnified by his sudden need for a lot of sex. That's all it was. He had more self-control than this. He was going to stay in control.
“He has a few contacts on the inside. He pays some hunters for information on who they’re tracking,” Ethan said, still unaware of Jamie’s antsy self torture session.
“He’s a dickhead,” Jamie said, irritable.
The host, Fred Phillips or whatever—Jamie wasn't going to make an effort to remember the asshole's last name—not only made long rants against paranormals and the danger they posed to society and the near civil war that happened about a hundred years ago, but he also spoke openly against the light hand that hunters and collectors handled them with. As if getting put into one of the metal boxes and being locked inside for hours, sometimes days at a time before shipment, or even being tested in the labs, was considered a vacation or something.
The guy regularly attacked hunters and collectors for being too soft on the paranormals they chased down and brought in. He didn't think they should be carrying tranquilizer guns and the shackles that numbed special abilities. He openly spoke about how they should be carrying real guns, and body bags, and had even started a few petitions for that very thing.
And every single signature he got came from more dipshit paranoid people who thought paranormals were getting ready to start another uprising or something.
"He's not exactly someone you would think we'd take advice from, is he?" Ethan asked, grinning at Jamie’s description and biting into his pizza. He chewed and swallowed before continuing. Jamie could only watch the man’s throat. "We think he's also got one of those radio scanners honed in on our channels. He sometimes knows shit immediately after we step out of our meetings. He'll be good to listen to while we figure out what's going on at Head Office since we can’t turn on my radio.”
“We can’t?”
“No. They’ll track it,” Ethan said, shaking his head.
Holy shit. Jamie hadn’t even thought of that. Thank God he hadn’t turned on Ethan’s radio.
It still didn't make the garbage they were listening to relaxing entertainment.
Better to listen to Fred and be occupied with something than trying to look at Ethan from the corner of his eye, and hoping Ethan might look back at him.
He listened as Fred described one hunter who turned rogue, taking his paranormal lover with him and going into hiding.
Jamie and Ethan tensed up at that. “Holy effing fuck, is he talking about us?”
“Shhh,” Ethan said, frowning at the radio.
He wasn’t talking about them, but it wasn’t much better.
Fred spoke of a female pyro named Cindy Chase, as in Jamie's best friend Cindy, and how the hunter she'd been captured by had turned on the organization to steal her out from under the noses of the collectors. Jack Marilla, that was his name, and Fred was going on and on about him.
"This lowlife scum betrayed the trust of the people of this city! Prison time would be too good for him! Send him to the labs with his precious little girlfriend. I bet he'll be wishing he hadn't betrayed the trust of the American people then!"
Jamie could only feel an immense gratitude. He sank farther into his seat as he sighed, letting his head fall back. Cindy was fine. She was all right.
Jack Marilla. That name sounded familiar.
"Was she the friend you were worried about?" Ethan asked.
Jamie nodded. There was no point in hiding it. His expression had given it away, and when Ethan had tried to arrest him the first time, Jamie had tried explaining how draining all that power hadn't been his fault. The stress of thinking that Cindy could be locked in one of those coffin-like boxes, getting ready to be sent out, had been too much for him to handle at the time.
He hadn't done it on purpose, but the power had just called to him.
Strange to think that his body was capable of carrying all that power, but then it was been gone in an instant, considering how much he'd struggled to fight and run immediately after that.
"We were getting ready to go out. Not a real on a date or anything, but just to a bar and a movie. It was nice to pretend we were normal once in a while, you know?"
Ethan nodded, even though he wasn't a paranormal and could have no idea what Jamie's life was like.
"When she didn't show up, and didn't call, I got worried. We have a system. We always call each other when we’re going to be late. I ditched my phone not too long after that, but I guess the stress made me reveal myself anyway, so it's not like it mattered.”
Silence. Jamie could tell that Ethan was staring at him, but he didn’t want to look back. Not right now.
"If she’s with another hunter then she should be safe," Ethan said. "I don't know this guy, but he knows the rules other hunters follow, along with how they think. He should be able to keep your friend out of a lab.”
Jamie looked at him. There was real sincerity in Ethan’s eyes, and Jamie melted, eating it all up because he needed it so damned badly. "Thanks."
Their eyes must’ve stayed locked a few seconds
too long, because Ethan turned away from him, staring back down at the radio in his lap.
He frowned at it, like it had offended him somehow. Jamie couldn’t turn away again. Now that he had looked, he was doing the thing he’d been worrying about and just flat-out stared at the man.
Even sitting up against so many pillows, bandages wrapped around him, he was perfect. He looked like a warrior with those white bandages on him, a contrast to his tanned skin and dark hair and eyes.
Hell, he kind of was a warrior. The man hunted down and brought in people who had dangerous powers. Ethan claimed only to do it to the people who deserved it, and whether Jamie believed it or not, Ethan still had some major balls to make this his profession.
That knowledge made his body look all the more tempting. Every dip and swell of his large muscles was just out and there for Jamie’s admiration, and he admired those muscles an awful lot.
There was something wrong with him, there really was.
“I’ll do the same,” Ethan said, muttering under his breath.
Jamie blinked, coming out of his trance. “What?”
Ethan barely glanced at him. “I said I’ll do the same. I'll make sure you don't get taken either. I know I'm repeating myself, but I just want to make sure you believe it."
Jamie’s face became molten hot, like lava hot, and he took a drink from his can of soda just to cool off.
“That’s great, thanks.”
That’s great? Thanks? That was what Jamie decided to say?
He was so sentimental and stupid. Why did he have to say that? Would it have even mattered if he’d said something else? Ethan had said there was nothing between them, so it wasn’t like he was saying that out of love or something.
Whatever, Jamie was just going to count his lucky stars that Ethan had decided to let him go when this was all done with anyway, and that was going to be that. Cindy was safe, Ethan was alive, and soon enough Jamie would be free to go on his merry way. He could probably go right now if he wanted to. That was awesome.
So why the hell wasn't he happy?
He looked over at Ethan on the bed, who still had such a presence even when injured. Ethan was starting to look better already. Pretty good actually, considering his injuries were fresh from that morning. There was color back in his face at least, and he didn't seem quite so tired. He'd even declined help from Jamie when he got up to use the bathroom, though he still limped. While he'd been in there he washed his face and cleaned his short brown hair and trim beard of the dry mud in the sink. He hadn't showered because of his injuries, but he'd still come out cleaner than when he'd went in. He'd made a comment about how at least now his hands were clean before reaching for the last of his pizza. He had a healthy appetite, that was for sure.
Jamie might be out of here even sooner than he thought.
Out of here and away from Ethan. Far, far away. Never to see him again.
He needed to not be thinking about this. Or looking at Ethan’s mouth. There had already been enough of looking at his mouth.
"We should think of the story you're going to tell when we part ways," Jamie said.
Ethan stopped chewing his food, swallowed, and then spoke. "You want to do that right now?"
"I guess so, since we don't know when we're going to have to separate." A sucker punch got him in the throat just for saying that.
"That makes sense," Ethan said. Why was he being so matter-of-fact about it? The guy could at least pretend that it bothered him a little.
"So, I guess because of your injuries, you should just say that I left you behind in the net after we shot each other, and that was when Allison came across you. She attacked you, you passed out, and that was the end of that."
"That's a good idea. If I'm unconscious, and if she's caught later on and mentions that you came back, I can't exactly be questioned about that."
"Really?"
"Well, I can be questioned, and they might even suspect something when it gets out that we were together for a little bit, but otherwise I doubt there's anything they can do."
"Oh, great," Jamie said.
Ethan nodded. "Right. It’ll be hard explaining who bandaged me up, but I’ll think of something.”
Fuck. Jamie should've known it wouldn’t be so easy. There was always something he forgot about. “Maybe you could say you woke up a bit after, and wandered off and found this old lady—”
“An old lady?”
“Who kindly took you in and saw to your wounds. She’s old so she doesn’t have a cell phone to call for help with and she can’t drive, and you stayed with her for a couple of days.”
Ethan shook his head, though his mouth pulled at the corner in a smile. “And what will I say when I can’t tell anyone where my rescuer lives?”
“Oh, uh…”
“Don’t worry about it Jamie. I’ll think of something.”
That last part actually did sound morose, and Jamie dropped the subject.
Then he was back to nibbling on his last slice of pizza while Ethan listened to more of Fred's ranting on the radio until the show ended.
There wasn’t much to do in the motel room except for listening to the radio, music and other talk shows. They ate the rest of the pizza for their supper, and though it was just turning dark out, Jamie was tired.
"We should get some sleep," Ethan said softly, after hours of silence. "If there's any money left in my wallet, you can take it. I'll give you my credit card and PIN, too."
"Won't that be a bad thing?"
"Just keep your head down when you go to take money out of a machine. Wear a hat, too. They’ll probably know it’s you, but that doesn’t mean you want to give them a lot of pictures. In fact, you should probably also dye your hair, it kind of stands out. But do that after you get some cash, not before.”
“Right.”
“Take as much money as it'll let you, then snap the card and throw it away. I'll give you twenty-four hours before I report it stolen."
This was it. The conversation Jamie didn’t want to have, but needed. The one where he planned on leaving Ethan behind. Jamie's heart beat so fast that he couldn't take it. He stared at Ethan on the bed, who was settling into the covers and closing his eyes, like this was okay for him. He was having such an easy time handling this. Had Jamie been the only one to care?
The covers only barely covered Ethan’s chest, which showed off his amazing muscles and small pink budding nipples. The bandages that were wrapped around his chest, hiding what had been done to him, could hardly be seen with the ugly blanket covering most of him.
All in all, Ethan looked pretty good… good enough for Jamie to want to kiss him again, to press his mouth over every inch of exposed flesh and suck on it, leaving Ethan with a reminder of Jamie when they parted ways.
Jamie knew he really shouldn't be having thoughts like this. It was morbid. His stupid cock wasn’t just interested, it was hard. He wanted to crawl into bed with Ethan right now, and not because there was nowhere else to sleep. It was likely the better idea if he slept on the floor, or in the chair. Just as long as he didn't try to get anywhere near Ethan when he was so horny and pathetically desperate.
He had to get out of this room. He needed to be alone. He needed a shower.
“I gotta go.” Jamie launched himself out of his chair and power walked to the bathroom. He shut and locked the door behind him, as if the lock would be enough to keep him from going back out there and climbing under the sheets with Ethan and begging the man to fuck him.
Tomorrow they were parting ways. This was going to be their last night together. Ever. That seemed to be the theme of Jamie's thoughts and he couldn't stop it. If anything Jamie felt he had to take advantage of a situation like that, otherwise he would regret it for the rest of his life.
Of course, if he did do something about it, he was going to regret it whether Ethan accepted or rejected him. Jamie was basically torturing himself.
He stripped out of his clothes and turned on the ho
t spray, letting the water run until the room was steaming, and then he got in, his dick bouncing a little as his hooked his legs over the tub and shut the curtain.
A cold shower wasn't going to cut it. Not now. He was too far-gone and he needed to get off. Nothing less would do at this point.
Jamie put his face under the spray, and then soaped up his hands real quick.
It was always better with something slick, though nothing was as good as someone else’s hand instead of his own. Or Ethan’s hand. Ethan’s hand would be a thousand times better.
And his mouth felt about a million times better than that.
Jamie spread his feet apart, bringing one had up to touch his nipples just before wrapping his fist around his cock, and then gripping tight to give himself a slow, leisurely stroke.
He sighed. This is what he needed. He just needed to relax and get his body to stop being so reactive around Ethan. This would do it. Yeah, this was nice and it would work just fine.
Jamie stroked again and again, slower this time, flicking his nipple before bringing his free hand to his balls.
He'd finish himself off in here and then go back out there and go to sleep. He wouldn't even have to look at Ethan for very long.
But imagining that Ethan was looking at him right now made him feel really damned good. The man would be watching, dark eyes half lidded with lust, and Jaime wanted to give him a show.
Jamie imagined the last time they were together. It had been their first real date, and Jamie went back to Ethan's place for the night. He didn't want to think about all the emotional stuff that he'd felt that night, he just wanted to bring himself back to the moment when Ethan had pushed him down onto the couch, yanked off his pants and then put Jamie's legs over his shoulders.
Jamie bit his bottom lip, but a small moan still made its way through. He had to stop sliding his free hand over his abs, his chest, his budding nipples—when had it moved there?—and put it against the tiled wall just to help keep his balance.
Jamie’s knees shook, and Ethan wasn't even in here with him. He was just thinking about the man.
The thought of the way Ethan kissed him, how his mouth was always soft, but then rough because of the trim beard. Jamie hadn't minded the prickliness. He'd adored the scratch on his mouth, and then later on his thighs whenever Ethan kissed and sucked on his thighs and cock.
