It would be okay to leave the chocolates in the kitchen, but Dean walked through to the living room. Everything was in darkness and the chain hadn’t been on, so he must have guessed right. Jay wasn’t home. He set down the box and the key where Jay would find them. He wouldn’t leave a note. Jay would call him, no doubt. The living room looked even more cluttered than the kitchen. Like Dean, Jay had a penchant for books, but he didn’t have the room for bookshelves. Still, he lined the walls with them, pushing the furniture in front almost as an afterthought. Books lay in neat, orderly lines, but were stacked in jumbled heaps on any remaining surface. Dean didn’t have to examine them; he knew what an eclectic collection they made. He wasn’t about to look through Jay’s underwear so that left him with nothing to do, mission accomplished. He found it strangely disappointing, an anti-climax.
Turning to walk back up the hall, he finally heard a sound. Turning his head, he stared towards Jay’s bedroom. The flat was small. Not as small as April’s, but still he was glad he lived in a house. He would hate living in such cramped conditions. The kitchen and bathroom sat opposite each other on either side of the hall. The hall led straight into the living room adjacent to the bedroom. The sound came from there. Maybe Jay was home after all. Jay had only returned from a few days away this morning, and what with all Dean had put him through, he was probably exhausted.
Suddenly ashamed to be trespassing, the time arrived for him to leave. Yet the sound came again and this time it made him frown. It sounded like a wet gasp for want of a better description. It sounded like the type of noise someone made when drawing in air. The sort of noise they made when they were crying. Surely, he hadn’t upset Jay that much. He dithered, swaying a little from side to side while he made up his mind which way to go. If Jay really was crying and it was because of him, then they should talk about it now.
The door swung slowly inwards noiselessly. Dean hardly had to push it. Enough light filtered in through the light drapes to give the room a soft, white illumination. Jay lay in the middle of the bed stark naked. His hair was loose and wild, lying in a dark shroud across his face so that mostly his lower face was on view. Despite this, Dean could see that he had his eyes closed ‑‑ not that Dean needed to see this, for if his eyes hadn’t been shut, Jay would have shouted, cried out at his presence. Men might be a little more open about masturbation than women were sometimes, but he doubted any guy would be happy to have a friend walk in on him like this.
Jay’s legs lay apart, slightly bent at the knee and falling open, so that Dean couldn’t help but look between his legs. He blinked, surprised that such a small man would have a large heavy-looking ball sac. Only a slightly lesser surprise was the fact that he judged Jay’s erection to mirror his own in girth and length. The fingers of Jay’s right hand wrapped tightly around his member, although he only held it still at present. His left hand did the wandering, stroking first one nipple and then the other, moving back to the first to pinch and lightly pull. Jay writhed as he did so, sliding his hips from side to side on the bed. His hand spread out, stroking in a line down to his belly tugging Dean’s gaze along with it so that he couldn’t help but notice the hard, tight muscle of Jay’s stomach. Another surprise ‑‑ Jay might be shorter and might be what some would call slight, or at the very least slim and lean, but he possessed one of the clearest defined six-packs Dean had ever seen. Like the rest of him, the muscles there seemed small, but they were fully developed. Although Dean’s stomach was equally hard and flat, his muscle definition largely dominated his upper chest and arms. Their similarities and differences pulled at something inside him. Dean’s gaze raked up and down, just as Jay’s mouth parted and he uttered a slight, sharp gasp, turning his head more to the side as he did, pressing his head into the bed as though he wanted to sink into it.
Jay reached down with his left hand and gave the exposed head of his cock a light circular caress that made him tip his hips up towards his own touch and then rock back to press his backside hard into the bed. His head now flailed from the right, to the left, and back again. He uttered a small sound of “Oh” and then drew in a breath so deep it made him shudder. His right hand finally moved up and down on his cock as the fingers of his left went back to playing with his nipples. Dean swallowed, struggling to keep the sound quiet, though it seemed unlikely that Jay would hear him. Wherever his thoughts lay, Jay’s attention wasn’t in this room, and Dean suspected that he probably featured heavily in whatever fantasy currently played out in his head. Confirmation arrived a moment later when his name emerged from Jay’s lips to softly whisper around the room. Jay’s movements became a little more frantic and so did the sounds. Then he panted, issued a soft moan, a whimper that contained desperation as his movements slowed. He gave the impression he deliberately held back.
Up until now, his attention focused on the sight of Jay so vulnerable, exposed both emotionally and physically, briefly drew Dean’s concentration away from his own reaction. Now, he could no longer ignore the pounding of his heart, its increasing beat, the shortness of breath. A lasting throb pulsed through his lower body. He couldn’t ignore that; it wouldn’t let him. He could kid himself all he liked but his body reacted. He was aroused and although part of him wanted to deny it, another part wasn’t surprised at all. The sight before him was undeniably erotic, made even more so by the fact that this was Jay, and Jay was a beautiful sight at any time. Dean needed to accept that. Jay and April possessed very similar features. If he found April beautiful, he must accept Jay had the same, fine, delicate features that he often longed to touch.
Not sure what he intended to do, Dean slipped out of his jacket and left it on the chair to one side of the door. Drawing his shirt over his head, it quickly followed. Next, he slipped out of his shoes, slowly, quietly pushing them off in turn with his feet. Then he hesitated. He had moved, taken off some of his clothes without allowing himself to think or question what he was doing. Now, a vague nausea coiled in his stomach and he lifted one foot to take a step back, tensing, ready to pick up his shoes and clothes, to back out of the room. This was foolish. Best he left unnoticed.
“Dean. Oh please, Dean. Yessssss.” Jay’s fantasy came vibrantly alive, echoing around the room, carried on the soft plea. The sick feeling fled as quickly as it manifested. Dean’s body began to thrum with a feeling he recognised ‑‑ one that would lead to absolute need. The feeling was the embers on a fire that begged someone to stoke it. Jay’s soft moans, his pleas, every time he spoke Dean’s name that heat increased.
“Fuck me, Dean. Please fuck me.”
Dean might have believed Jay knew he was in the room, but his friend hadn’t opened his eyes, and he would have jumped up, crying out, almost screaming if that were the case. He should leave, but on the other hand, why not stay? Jay’s breathing laboured now, his movements increased. If Dean were going to do something, he should do it now. Just as quietly as he removed his shirt and shoes, he unfastened his trousers. He made a little sound with his belt as he drew the trousers down, but Jay was oblivious to everything but the scene currently playing out in his head.
As he approached the bed, it became clear he made the decision not a moment too soon. Jay had a bottle of lubricant on the bed and a little further to the side, a dildo or vibrator. In the dark, he couldn’t tell which. It didn’t matter right now, anyway. Jay wouldn’t be using it. Bracing one hand on the bed, he quickly slid onto it. Jay reacted to the sudden movement and weight as he expected, opening his eyes and crying out; the cry sounded like sexual release. Dean tucked in beside him and pressed one arm across his chest before he could fully react.
“You’re not dreaming, Jay.” Dean spoke his name deliberately. Firstly, so that Jay would recognise his voice, just in case he couldn’t see him clearly. Dean knew of no one with his build and he was sure Jay would recognise him just from that, but he could be too startled to realise precisely whom had entered his room. He also wanted to acknowledge Jay for both their sakes. In saying his name, h
e was telling Jay he knew whom he was with as well as accepting it. He spoke to break Jay’s trance.
Those eyes looked wide and frightened. The line of Jay’s throat worked as he swallowed. One of his hands reached up to grab at the arm holding him down, not that he possessed the strength to push Dean away. The fear faded from Jay’s face, but anxiety clearly remained as Dean looped their left legs together and pushed the hand away that gripped him. “Sshh, Jay. Don’t be afraid. Don’t stop.” He pushed Jay’s hand back towards his erection and a small sound of protest escaped Jay’s lips. Dean stared into his eyes, though the darkness impaired his vision. “Don’t stop,” he said again, this time speaking just as quietly, but putting more force into his voice. “Touch yourself.”
He pressed their lips together in a gentle kiss as he guided Jay’s hand. Wrapping those slim fingers around Jay’s cock, Dean closed the hand into a fist so that he gripped him without actually touching that organ and used Jay’s own hand to pump the softening flesh back to hardness. Sensing shock sent desire into retreat, Dean now fully intended to bring it alive again. He licked along the line of Jay’s compressed lips.
Chapter Five
When most people lay an arm across you, it was easy to struggle. You might not break free, but you could make them work for it. With Dean, all he needed to do with most people was lean his weight on them a little. Jay tensed, ready to fight even as he accepted the most he could probably do was thrash his hips, which would likely make his erection wiggle lewdly. Then Dean added the weight of his leg. He was still trying to separate dream from reality when Dean spoke. That voice was real, much better than in his head. When Dean told him not to stop, a strange sensation crawled down his spine. Fear lost next to embarrassment and warred with desire, then raced back in. Why was Dean doing this?
He lost the question in the combined heat of Dean’s kiss and naked skin. Although aware Dean leaned forward to press their mouths together, he couldn’t help but pay most attention to all that hard and smooth bare skin brushing against him from head to toe. Dean was six inches taller, which meant Jay encountered lots of luscious skin and flesh. More than enough of Dean existed to cover him completely.
What am I thinking? The question pulled him back to reality, to the consequences of this, but the lick along his lips made him moan. He tried to keep his lips pressed together but like every other muscle on Dean’s body, his tongue was as insistent and strong as the rest. It invaded Jay’s mouth, forcing its way in, ignoring the fact that his teeth scraped along the length. If it hurt, Dean either didn’t mind or was too much of a man to flinch at such a small pain.
For the first time tonight, Jay felt true fear, though he struggled to understand the cause of it. He had no reason to believe Dean would hurt him physically, so it must be his heart that needed protecting. Although the room was full of shadows, the dazzling, white light from the moon and the streetlights shining through his thin curtains, made the room strangely bright. He could have easily moved around without bumping into things. By comparison, Dean’s eyes also possessed a strange light to them. Dean’s eyes always looked bright, sparkling, and full of laughter. They could harden out, all right, when he was angry, but now they just stared, and such a stare it was. The look was hard and somehow cold. Jay longed to see warmth in them. Although this was Dean, his friend for so many years, tonight, seeing that look in his eye, it was as if he didn’t know him.
“Turn over,” Dean instructed. To Jay’s horror, he let out a small whimper. His friend didn’t seem to hear. Either he wasn’t listening or he didn’t care. Jay opened his mouth to say something, uncertain what, but Dean already followed through on his instruction. One of those large hands gathered Jay’s wrists together in a tight embrace that threatened to grind bone. Then, by leaning his weight and pushing with his body, somehow, Dean spun him over.
The familiar comfort of the duvet pressed into Jay’s face and he closed his eyes. Cold air rushed in to replace Dean’s heat as the man sat up. Another heat soon replaced it as those hands began to stroke down from his neck, over his shoulders and down his back to his hips. He gasped when those firm fingers gathered his hair and moved it back from his neck. A hot searing kiss at his nape sent its heat in a line straight down his spine to his entrance. A solid, harder heat brushed against his buttocks. Jay opened his eyes and blinked, realising that his friend’s cock swayed in the wind, stroking against him by accident as Dean moved. Those strong, sure hands now traced circles on his cheeks, opening him. Jay gave a small cry and tensed, tucking into the duvet, huddling into the soft folds of the cover beneath. He closed his eyes once again, as he realised he tried to hide like a frightened, inexperienced boy.
When he felt a thumb brush him in the most intimate way, that hidden rosette tightened in a manner he would have thought impossible. He’d had lovers and in their overly long absence, he had toys. Still, tension thrummed through him even down to that hidden place. When Dean’s cock brushed there in place of a thumb, he whimpered again and tried to crawl up the bed. A hand on his left shoulder stopped him. It simply held him there, not pressing and not hurting, just holding him still with strength. Never before had he truly appreciated the extent of Dean’s strength. The thought thrilled him as much as it frightened him. The fingers of Dean’s right hand played around his entrance, teasing, stroking. They felt wet and slippery. Dean must have used the lube. A finger slid into him and Jay wriggled, moaning, ashamed at how raw and full of desire his cries sounded.
* * * * *
Dean managed to move two fingers into him, which considering the size of his hands meant Jay coped admirably. A grin spread over his face; he felt a little sorry that Jay couldn’t see it. Part of the reason he chose to turn Jay over was so that they could no longer look at each other. He needed no one to tell him his stare appeared overly intense. There was a lot on his mind right now, but Jay didn’t need to see it. Certain the gaze in his eyes looked terrifying, Dean chose to turn Jay over so he couldn’t see it. He had known and accepted what he was going to do the moment he slid onto the bed. Knowing it and following through were two different things. Oddly, he didn’t have much trouble with what he was doing. Anal sex was just sex. He didn’t expect this to feel any different with Jay than it did a woman. The fact that he wanted to do it with Jay so much was what shook him. Jay was twisting now, moving his hips a little around on the bed, using his arms under him to prop his body up and push back. Dean had let go of his shoulder some moments ago, but he didn’t think Jay noticed. He withdrew his fingers.
Coming down over Jay’s back, Dean stopped his teasing. He kissed the shoulder he pressed down into the bed, trailed a hot wet line along it to the nape of his neck. “Do you want this?” he whispered.
It took a moment before he heard Jay whisper “What?” His voice sounded young, a little afraid, and undoubtedly uncertain, and several other things combined.
“Do you want this? I’m not going to force you.” Dean spoke quietly, but kept up the kisses.
“I ...” That single word emerged, stuttering. It dried up, came to a halt in his friend’s throat. Dean could hardly blame him. This decision would alter things between them irrevocably. To what extent, even he didn’t know. With luck, they wouldn’t lose their friendship. That was the best he could hope. Undoubtedly, Jay saw things a little differently. Sex and love weren’t the same thing, though people often confused the two. Jay wasn’t confused. Dean was completely aware Jay loved him. Why then was he doing such an incredibly lousy thing as seducing him? His heart asked the question but his cock wouldn’t listen. His brain told him that he would pay for it later. He accepted that because he just couldn’t do anything else right now. He didn’t think he could stop if his life depended on it, not if Jay wanted this, not if he asked for it. The only thing he would pull back from was the idea of forcing him.
“I’m not going to rape you, Jay,” Dean said softly. “I couldn’t do that to anyone, least of all you. No promises. Just tell me if you want this.�
�� He ran his tongue in a small, hot circle around the top of Jay’s spine, distracted by how good that smooth skin felt against his tongue, how good Jay tasted. “Make up your mind soon though, or I’ll take your silence for yes.”
Gliding back down the bed, he swept his tongue down and around each of Jay’s vertebrae, causing the man’s spine to arch. A shudder passed through the body beneath him as he licked gently at the dip between both of Jay’s buttocks. Jay wanted this all right. The quivering flesh was on fire beneath him. Jay wanted this, had probably wanted it for many years. Who was Dean to refuse him? Whether Jay would be happy with one night was another matter entirely.
Some part of his mind called him a bastard and Dean acknowledged it. He would probably swear enough at his reflection come morning. Still, he couldn’t force himself on Jay, not even if his life truly depended on it would he hurt him that way. Jay wanted him all right ‑‑ his little twists on top of the bed and the soft mewing noises that escaped him said as much ‑‑ but he wouldn’t take without permission. The tension in the man beneath him told another story, however. Jay wrestled with the decision no matter how much his body cried out for it. There was only one way he could tip Jay over the edge. He found the idea disconcerting even as he accepted he meant to do it. He’d done this with a woman before now and driven her crazy with it. Dean narrowed his gaze, swept his hands in a hard, firm stroke over the buttocks in a way that gently, but unequivocally separated both cheeks and swept his tongue along that crevice in one hard, firm, hot and wet glide. Jay cried out, thrashed on the bed, gasped, groaned, moaned, and finally the words he wanted to hear spilled out on the end of that sound. “Oh, please, yes, god, Dean, please yes.”
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