Grinning, Dean scrambled up, gripped his cock and placed his swollen shaft against that tight opening, which turned out not to be as tight as he expected. Glancing over at the vibrator or dildo, whichever it was, he smiled. Jay clearly used it at every opportunity. He had to wonder what other toys his friend owned. Jay, having previously taken two of his fingers inside him, opened up nicely. From experience, Dean knew what to expect. That seemingly hard unforgiving opening would expand slowly. As he rocked his hips, it clutched at him, almost as though it couldn’t decide if to suck him in or expel him. Jay’s groans changed, became a long heartfelt sigh. It sounded so close to utter peace and contentment that Dean’s heart jumped in his chest. It felt almost as if his heart missed a beat. Could a heart jump with guilt? Did he have a reason to feel guilty? He’d said no promises, but in their aroused state how much was either of them truly listening?
“Oh, fuck me. I want you to fuck me.”
Well, Jay asked and to stop now seemed rather churlish, even redundant. ‘Sorry, I’m not gay and I just got it my head to have my wicked way with you for the hell of it’, didn’t quite cut it. To apologise and back out now ‑‑ literally, in this case ‑‑ would not only be stupid, it would be more embarrassing than to finish. Besides, he didn’t want to back out and that small nether mouth sucked at him in such a way that said Jay didn’t want him to back out either.
Inch by inch, Jay accepted his rigidness. Dean tried for a few smooth, long deep strokes, then lost himself to it. He began rocking, thrusting. Jay scrambled back to meet him. Using his hands, Dean pulled him, lifted him, and held Jay close. Up on his knees, he used one hand on Jay’s back to press him forward so that he lay face down in the cover. Dean looked down to see his cock thrusting in and out of that tight opening. Those buttocks spread for him, round and ripe, as heart shaped as any woman’s. The waist narrowed, the spine was a deep curve up the line of the back. That thick shroud of hair swept out in a fan to spill over one shoulder. If he didn’t know it was Jay beneath him, he could have easily believed or pretended this was a woman. It could have been April. He denied the fantasy. Reaching underneath, he gave Jay’s cock a few quick strokes, not certain if he liked touching another man or not. There really wasn’t time to consider it now. He was too far gone to care and just wanted to bring Jay with him.
Suddenly, despite his need, he eased off. A harsh sound of complaint came from Jay’s throat and Dean chuckled softly. He was still inside him, but now Jay needed to wriggle back to search for the penetration. Not getting what he so evidently wanted, Jay pushed up onto his hands. That tight, slick tunnel slid back over him and Dean hissed. Now his friend did the fucking, moving back and forth on Dean’s hard shaft. Another harsh desperate sound escaped his friend. “Come on, Jay,” Dean said. “Reach for it.”
To come from anal sex alone was rare. Some could do it; for others it never happened at all. He had known two women to come that way when he touched something deep inside of them. Men probably had extra stimulation from anal play, but still not all they required. For some inexplicable reason, aware Jay was near, having to bite his own lips to keep from coming, Dean wanted it to happen this way. Jay’s cock surely brushed the bed occasionally and he’d enjoyed all that self-stimulation before they even started. Jay also finally had what he wanted ‑‑ his friend’s cock firmly embedded inside him. Oh, yes, Jay was near.
“Come on,” Dean urged. He held his friend’s weight as Jay made a final desperate lunge, a few short thrusts on a zone that obviously was just the right spot for him, and then he froze and trembled in place. He spilled in a great flailing wail during which even Dean struggled to hold onto him. That tightness clamped him like a woman in orgasm only harder, crueller, and Dean went over the edge with him. He closed his eyes, gave into the sweet pulsing, over too quickly. They fell together in a tangled heap.
Dean remembered at the last minute to push himself to the side before he fell on the smaller man. It would do no good to crush him. He laid on his back breathing heavily, his eyes unfocused, his mind blank. Only when Jay rolled onto his side did Dean force his body to obey him. He quickly tucked up behind Jay, into him, spooning him. He could see the back of his head and a little of the side of his face. The one eye that he could see gazed blankly. A slight frown creased that usually unlined brow.
Could he offer Jay affection after what they had just done? Yes, he could do that. For a good friend he had just fucked, how could he not?
He tucked his knees in, slipped an arm around him, reached up and over with his other hand and stroked Jay’s forehead. They lay there for a few minutes before Dean moved from the bed. He placed a kiss on the side of Jay’s face. “I’m just going to the bathroom,” he told him. “Don’t go anywhere.”
* * * * *
Sweat began to cool on his body, yet still Jay didn’t move. He was afraid to. Right now, it was a beautiful spell and he had no wish to break it. Half expecting Dean to take his clothes with him into the bathroom, he refused to hope until he heard the toilet flush, water ran in the sink, and a few moments later, Dean walked back into the bedroom. Returning to the bed, Dean scooped him up off the bed into his arms so easily that Jay didn’t have time to cry out in surprise.
“Get the duvet,” Dean instructed. Shocked into obeying, he reached down and flipped back the cover while Dean held him. Dean immediately dropped him gently onto the bed and pushed him over. “I hope you don’t mind sleeping on the right,” Dean said, and to Jay’s utter amazement, the larger man got into bed with him, gathering him up in his arms. A rough kiss touched his forehead, then Dean said, “Sweet dreams, Jay.”
Sweet dreams? Jay didn’t think he would be able to get a wink. He opened his eyes a few minutes later to the realisation he already drifted. Dean uttered a small, unbelievably cute snore for such a big man. It made Jay smile and close his eyes again. They slept peacefully.
* * * * *
“How did you get in?” Jay cradled his morning coffee. The mug warmed his hands and gave him something to hold onto. If the heat burned a little that was good, too. He needed something that felt real, even if that something manifested in a little pain.
“Your sister gave me a key.” Dean looked a little embarrassed. He shrugged when Jay frowned at him. “I meant to give it back to you at dinner and forgot. Please, don’t get mad at her. It might have been stupid, but she meant well.”
All very well for Dean to say. So much for trusting family. Taking a deep breath, he let it go for now. Whether he confronted April or not, that had nothing to do with Dean. At least, not when he considered what happened last night. Maybe he should thank his sister rather than yell at her. Maybe not. Speaking of which, that meant there were considerably more important things to think about. He frowned. “The chain?” he asked.
Dean looked a little puzzled. He sat in the same chair by the kitchen table as when Jay bandaged his hand just yesterday. It looked as though it healed nicely and it felt like it happened a lifetime ago. “You left it off,” Dean told him.
He ... what? Thinking back to last night, he couldn’t remember leaving the chain off, but he couldn’t recall putting it on either. “I-I came straight in and took a ...” He stopped, saw Dean’s questioning gaze, and finished with, “I put my shirt into soak and took a cold shower. I usually put the chain on before bed, though.”
“Evidently you wanted to get to bed in a hurry and the shower didn’t do its job.”
Heat immediately warmed his face. He felt hotter than the coffee. He didn’t have to see Dean’s amused gaze to know he blushed.
“Well,” Dean pushed his mug aside having finished his drink. “I should get going. Home for dinner two weeks in a row, Mum thinks it’s Christmas already. But I promised her I’d show.”
Jay nodded. You couldn’t just get out of those kinds of promises, no matter what happened. Even he couldn’t think of a suitable excuse for this one. He put down his own mug and followed Dean into the hall. Perhaps he should just keep quiet,
but maybe it would be best to let Dean off the hook now. Maybe they could salvage something that way, though he had no idea what.
“This didn’t mean anything to you, did it? I mean, I know. It’s fine. I can take it. I understand. I don’t expect ...” Damn! That wasn’t what he intended to say. He meant to tell Dean it didn’t have to mean anything and he was fine with that. They could just forget it. Instead, it sounded as though he were pleading like a girl asking her date for reassurance, though that was a sexist thought. Men looked for reassurance, too.
Dean paused and looked back at him, leaning against the frame of his kitchen doorway. Dean always seemed to lean on things as though he needed propping up. The mannerism was adorable in its way. A hand gripped the frame close to his face. “I don’t know what it meant, but it didn’t mean nothing.”
It took Jay a moment to deduce his meaning ‑‑ he had never been a great student of the double negative in English. When he realised what Dean said, he looked up cautiously. He tried to stop the words from emerging, but he needed to ask. “Was it a pity fuck?”
Dean, having turned away to move to the door, now spun around fast and came charging back towards him. “No! God, no! I wouldn’t do that to anyone.”
Damn. He was trembling. He meant to be so good about this, to let Dean leave him with dignity. Words tumbled out of his mouth now before he could stop them. “I know you don’t feel the way I do, and I know you’re sorry it can’t be anything else, but I’m fine with that. I told you. I really am. Even after ... what happened ...” He stopped. His eyes burned and his throat dried up. Pity he hadn’t been at a lost for words two minutes ago. Dean hesitated and then brought his hands up to clasp Jay’s face. Those large fingers slid through his hair each side of his face to the back of his head. They dug in as well as caressed.
“I have to go, Angel,” Dean said. The sound of apology rang in there somewhere. The pet name was another matter entirely. He hadn’t heard that in a long time. Did Dean say it without realising? Was it merely a question of falling into an old habit? Jay could only nod. “We’ll talk.” Again, Jay nodded. Dean gave him a little shake, lifting his face. “We’ll talk,” he repeated and his tone was insistent. This time Jay just stood there. For a moment, it seemed Dean would lean down and kiss him. He did, but the gesture changed direction and he placed a light kiss against his forehead. Jay closed his eyes against the pain unravelling inside. They might well talk, but it would be nice if someone told them what they were supposed to say to each other under these circumstances.
Chapter Six
“What happened between you?”
Dean and Jay hadn’t spoken for four days, no contact other than exchanging a couple of texts and Dean leaving Jay a message promising to drop by as soon as he could. They hadn’t spoken directly. They certainly hadn’t seen each other face to face. Now Dean heard April’s voice and turned to see her standing there in the garage, glaring at him. He hesitated, wondering how much Jay might have told her. He didn’t really believe Jay would have told anyone but you could never be sure. April clearly saw his hesitation and her expression darkened. A storm was brewing.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Stupid, stupid, stupid, idiotic thing to say. Too late. He had said it already.
She stalked towards him, head high, eyes blazing. Reaching out, she curled her fingers into his shirt and tugged at him. No one could move Dean when he didn’t want them to, but somehow, he found himself going with her. He could say it was because he didn’t relish this argument in front of the other men. In truth, the look in her eye frightened him.
She whirled him around by his shirt and he almost slammed into the office wall. With her other hand, she slammed the door shut so hard it rattled in the frame. He almost believed the wall shook, but that was crazy. Surely, it was too solid. The guys in the garage must be aware of the argument; he could only hope they were too far away to hear.
“Bad enough that he won’t return the spare key, or that my brother no longer trusts me thanks to you, but he won’t tell me what happened between you. He says you didn’t argue but then his eyes just get shifty.”
“Shifty?” He said it with some amusement. He couldn’t imagine it. She took a step towards him and he would have backed up if the wall weren’t already pressing into his back.
“Shifty,” she said, emphasising the word. “Up. To. Something. What happened between you?”
“Nothing. We talked. I took him chocolates. Maybe he’s just pissed in general, or especially over the key.” Best April didn’t know he still hung on to it.
She drew in an exaggerated breath, clearly controlling it as she drew breath in and then allowed it to flow out equally slowly. Her teeth clenched; so did her fists. “I’d like to be mad at you over the key, but that was my fault.” It sounded as if it hurt her to admit it. “I just want to know what you did to hurt him.”
He opened his mouth to say he hadn’t done anything, but the words wouldn’t come. April started to look even angrier if that were possible. “What the hell have you done?”
He swallowed. He towered over this woman, both in height and build. He shouldn’t feel intimidated. Still, it took all his resolve to stare her down without even blinking. “I haven’t done anything. Whatever Jay and I talked about is between us, don’t you think?”
“No,” she said, and this time her voice sounded hard, cold, and guttural. This was the side of April he didn’t like, the side he could never get on with. On some women, anger was adorable, sexy; he even found it arousing to see a woman’s inner strength so displayed like that. On April, it just made her look savage. She and Jay looked so similar, but her brother’s face never contorted in quite the same way when he was angry. Dean didn’t know why, couldn’t explain why, but April in a rage always turned him off and he didn’t mean just sexually. “I don’t think it’s between the two of you at all. Tell me.”
With horror, he accepted she might just force it out of him with that glare alone. He shook his head, refusing to swallow, though he wanted to. She would notice. Saliva flooded his mouth and he struggled to ignore it. “I’m not saying anything. Not to you.”
For a moment, it was easy to believe she intended to attack him. Her eyes slid from left to right and the cold certainly that she sought for a weapon washed over him. Then her gaze returned to his face. “Jay won’t talk either. So help me, if you’ve hurt him, I’ll squeeze your balls in a vice. I don’t know how or when, but I’ll find a way.”
Somehow, Dean believed her. She reached out for door handle, and swung the door open. “I’ve brought the car in. It needs a service.”
“We don’t ...”
She turned her attention towards him. The door trembled in her grasp as though in fear. “I don’t care about your fancy cars, Dean. I know you do favours for family. Well, now you can do a favour for a friend. I’m giving the car to Jay as I’m getting a new one next week. Thanks to you, my timely present will probably look like an attempt to get back in his good books. I want it serviced. I will pay for any repairs. It’s the least you can do,” she added, as though he were about to argue.
He didn’t dare say a word. Clearly, he would have to cover the cost of the service. He should consider it cheap at the price to keep a friend.
* * * * *
The two men writhed over each other. Their limbs entangled. Hands grasped. Their mouths remained fused all the while. They rubbed their groins together in a vicious-looking grind. They had shaved or waxed. Their bodies were hairless, naked for the camera. It let the viewer see everything. Dean couldn’t help wondering what that felt like. Even as he watched, their bodies merged in other places. If they broke the kiss, it wasn’t for long. Their mouths came back together as though they were hungry.
Dean looked down at his flaccid cock and sighed heavily. He had started with his imagination and a strong grip before moving on to a book. Then he’d progressed to a magazine with pictures. From there, he tried straight porn and finally h
e put in something he always found hot and heavy. Perhaps it was simply a question of having seen it all before, but he hadn’t watched this for a long time and it never failed him previously.
Now, why he liked this particular movie disturbed him. It also annoyed him. On one level, he could explain it. There was something so raw in their movements, so basic in the slap of flesh that he always thought of this film as a portrayal of lust, hot and hard, emotionless. Of course, that meant the film lacked a certain something, or could have ...
Dean shook his head, looking away from the screen. It lacked nothing. To call it lust made him think of two slabs of meat slapping into each other. These guys were into it. They might be porn stars, but this was no bland movie filmed in the sixties, with a weak and whining sound track and an even weaker plot. This film contained no plot. It was guy on guy action, plain and simple, blatant, arousing because it didn’t pretend to be something other than it was. The men in it were fine healthy specimens who, for all Dean knew, hadn’t met prior to that day of filming, but there was no doubt in his mind they enjoyed what they were doing. This was sex ‑‑ an unyielding, honest, unforgiving portrayal of it. Did that make it emotionless? Did it, hell!
The two men might not be in love, but they felt something. Their gazes raked back and forth down the length of their bodies, but they also looked one another in the eye occasionally. When they kissed, sometimes they kept their eyes open. Dean suddenly realised why he loved this movie. For the two men, they might as well have been alone in the room during filming. It made him wonder if they enjoyed a relationship off screen. Maybe, maybe not, but he couldn’t call what they shared emotionless. He liked this movie because it didn’t feel ‘set up’. It felt as though someone asked two guys who loved or even just liked each other to fuck honestly in front of a camera. It felt as though you watched two guys making love or just having sex, but doing it sincerely.
Snow Angel Page 7
