by Ashlyn Kane
On second thought…. Jonah paused at the front door and looked up. The best ice cream in Hudson’s Bend had no indoor seating and only a cloth awning to keep off the sun and a light drizzle. Maybe Plan B was a better idea.
Whatever. He’d see what Emerson thought. “Em?” Jonah opened the front door and toed off his flip-flops. “Mrs. B?”
No answer, but that wasn’t too surprising; it was early, so they were probably still at work. Emerson usually got home around four, though, so maybe he was in the shower.
Jonah headed up the stairs, listening for the sounds of running water. Nothing. “Em?” he called again. He had to be home—Kierstyn would’ve come running already, and the door had been open. “You’re not jerking off or something, are you?”
There was no response, so he figured it was probably safe to push open Emerson’s door, but his room was empty too.
Weird. He was probably outside, then, Jonah decided, going over to the window. Emerson was a total dreamer and occasionally spent an hour or two lying on his back in the yard, watching the sky and getting sunburned. Not that that would be a problem today. Pushing back the curtain, Jonah peered out the window into the yard.
And frowned. Squinted. There was a boy in the yard, but it wasn’t Emerson, hair a little too long and dark and shoulders a little too slender. But—oh. There was Emerson coming out of the lake, shoulders pink despite the cloud cover. Would he ever learn to put on sunscreen? Jonah wondered.
Emerson smiled when he saw the other boy, and when he picked up a towel to toss at Emerson, Jonah recognized Justin, Emerson’s biology lab partner.
Now that he knew where Emerson was, he should go downstairs and demand the attention that was his due—it was his birthday, after all. But something kept him glued to the window, watching the scene unfold below him.
Jonah knew that Emerson had been spending more time with Justin since they had been partnered together in school, but he hadn’t realized how much. Though he couldn’t hear what was being said, he didn’t need to. His normally shy, reserved friend was smiling and laughing, his posture assured and open.
Emerson ran the towel over his face first, then through his hair, causing it to stick up in damp clumps. He patted his chest and shoulders down more gingerly, Jonah noted with a roll of his eyes—probably sore. Jonah noticed the set of Justin’s head as Emerson threw the towel on the picnic table and froze, suddenly feeling like he very much needed to be out in the yard with them and simultaneously unable to move. He was too far away to see Justin’s eyes, but it seemed like—surely Justin wasn’t looking at Emerson like—like that?
Justin put his hand on Emerson’s arm, and Emerson turned around. Jonah caught just the hint of a blush before his face was turned the wrong way.
Jonah wasn’t happy about that. Now he couldn’t see what was going on with Emerson—well, he could extrapolate from Emerson’s posture, which was still totally relaxed, though he was doing that fidgety thing with his left hand that he did when he was impatient. Did Emerson not think this was weird? Justin hadn’t let go of his arm yet. Not even Jonah touched Emerson that much.
If seeing Justin’s hand on Emerson’s arm had Jonah anxious, watching the other hand come up to settle on his waist had him in a full-blown panic. Or it would have, if he had been able to do anything other than stare helplessly as Emerson’s own hand came up and rested on Justin’s arm. As he ducked his head like he did when he was embarrassed and looked up quickly again. Jonah’s brain supplied an unhelpfully vivid vision of what he’d look like with those green eyes burning through his lashes. As Justin leaned down and pulled the world out from beneath Jonah’s feet without a thought by smoothly tipping Emerson’s face up into a kiss as if they’d been doing it for months.
Jonah didn’t even stop to put on his sandals on his way out the door, just scooped them up by the thong and got into the car and drove.
He finally brought the car to a stop in the parking lot at the local ball diamond just as the first peal of thunder rumbled in the sky. With shaking hands, he killed the engine, then leaned his elbows on the steering wheel and put his head in his hands.
Okay. First things first.
Jonah was… shocked. Though, of course, now that he thought about it, perhaps he shouldn’t have been. He had never known Emerson to display much interest in girls, despite their fascination with him—Jonah had always simply attributed this to Emerson’s somewhat antisocial nature. And naturally Emerson had never mentioned his interest in boys, though that “dare” to watch Brokeback Mountain on television together when it had first aired a few years ago now made a lot more sense. So he was shocked, and a little hurt—because of course he’d taken the dare, and though they’d never spoken of it again, Jonah knew he hadn’t given Emerson any reason to think he was homophobic. Because he wasn’t.
Jonah curled his fingers into his hair and pressed his forehead against the steering wheel. Shocked, and hurt—and jealous. There was no avoiding that.
He was jealous of Emerson’s time. It was Jonah’s birthday, and they always spent it together. Justin had infringed on that, but that didn’t account for the rising tide of hot emotion swelling in Jonah’s chest.
It wasn’t that Justin was a boy. Jonah was fairly sure he wasn’t homophobic, but he was smart enough to realize that seeing something on television and experiencing it in person were different. He tested his theory by imagining Emerson kissing a girl—any girl, it didn’t matter— and winced at the tug on his hair as his knuckles went white.
And it wasn’t that Emerson had someone and Jonah didn’t. Until two minutes ago Jonah had been perfectly happy being single.
No, Jonah was jealous because Emerson had kissed someone who wasn’t Jonah. And apparently Jonah wanted Emerson all to himself.
“Fuck,” he swore, closing his eyes tightly as the first drops of rain spattered against the windshield and lightning lit the cloud-covered sky. Sitting there with the rain pounding down on the roof of the car, he came to three realizations: first and second that he was in love with Emerson and it sucked; and lastly that he was apparently bisexual. Hell of a fucking birthday, he thought bitterly.
What would happen now that Emerson had a boyfriend? Someone who would share his life in ways Jonah couldn’t? Would Jonah be able to watch Emerson fall in love with someone else from the sidelines? Could he put aside his own wants and be happy for his friend? He wasn’t sure.
And what about in the fall? He and Emerson had always planned on rooming together in college, but how could he handle that sort of temptation? What if he ever interrupted Emerson and Justin in a private moment? How would he react? What would happen when Emerson found out about Jonah’s feelings?
And then what if Justin broke Emerson’s heart? Jonah knew how sensitive Emerson was, how easy it was to hurt him. Could he stand to console his friend? Would he be able to offer impartial advice when his own heart hung in the balance? Or what if they broke up and Jonah convinced Emerson to give him a chance? What then? Would anything more than friendship ruin their dynamic? What if—God forbid—it didn’t work out? Could they be friends afterward? How would Jonah cope without Emerson once he’d kissed him, touched him, learned his body like he knew his own?
No, Jonah couldn’t do that to himself—to them. Making up his mind, he turned the key in the ignition and headed for home.
§
THEN
EMERSON stared at his friend, wide-eyed and silent. His breath was caught in his throat. Oh. Jonah felt the same way. Jonah returned his feelings. Emerson looked down and noticed that his hands were shaking. He curled them into fists.
“I needed to get away, to think,” Jonah was saying now. “I just—I needed to take some time to figure some stuff out. To find answers to some of those questions, like gay or bi?”
Emerson looked up again. Jonah was still staring out the window.
“I was kind of overwhelmed by it all, you know? All I could think was that I needed space to think, so I hopped
on the first bus out of town to get it.”
Oh. Jonah had left because—he had left to—“You needed to get away from me?” Emerson’s voice was quiet, but it carried.
“No! That’s not—I needed to get away from everyone. My world had turned upside down, and I couldn’t turn to you or anyone else about it.”
Emerson looked down again to see that his hands were still curled into tight fists. This was it, he was sure. This was the moment when Emerson had to make his own confession. He’d never get another moment as perfect as this.
Rising on shaky feet, he took a few hesitant steps forward before he spoke. “The kiss meant nothing.” Jonah’s shoulders tensed, and he looked like he might speak again, so Emerson hurried on. “It meant nothing because I didn’t feel anything for him. He kissed me, and all I could think was, ‘I wish he was Jonah’.”
Jonah spun around. “What?” His eyes were wide, but they looked eager. He took a half-step in Emerson’s direction. “Em…?”
“I—I pushed him away afterward because I wanted him to be you, and he wasn’t,” Emerson blurted out. “And I thought that spending the day with you at the movies sounded so much better.”
“Emerson.” Jonah was starting to smile. He took another step toward Emerson, but he wanted to get this all out, to reciprocate some of the emotional sharing.
“I tried dating other people, but it never works. Because no matter what I do or who I date, I can’t ever get over you. I’ve done some stupid shit trying to make myself forget about you, but it never works. I’m still….” Emerson stumbled to a halt, the words failing him. He wasn’t ready yet to say “love,” but everything else seemed trite.
Jonah, it seemed, didn’t care how Emerson finished that sentence. He had been moving closer and closer until he was standing in Emerson’s space and wrapping two large palms around Emerson’s face when his verbal outpouring trickled to a stop. Emerson looked up—and wow, did Jonah ever look tall when he stood so close—and saw that Jonah’s eyes were dancing and his lips were curling at the corners.
“If it’s all right with you, I’m going to kiss you, now.”
Yes. Emerson’s mouth went dry at that. He tried to nod instead, but Jonah was still framing his face. He must have looked pretty ridiculous, because Jonah huffed a small laugh. Then he was inching closer and bending his head down.
Emerson’s eyes fluttered shut as Jonah’s lips met his own.
For a long moment, Emerson didn’t move. He just stood there stunned as Jonah pressed their lips together in a sweet, lingering kiss.
Jonah is kissing me. He felt giddy and lightheaded.
Jonah moved one hand down, stroking the length of his torso before long fingers curled around his hip. Then Jonah was trying to pull Emerson in closer, even as his lips were parting and asking Emerson’s to do the same.
Feeling rushed back into Emerson’s limbs. He stumbled forward into Jonah in answer to the pressure on his hip. His fingers, no longer numb, lifted to curl into the fabric of Jonah’s shirt, his hands now resting on broad shoulders. And his lips….
His lips parted under Jonah’s. Jonah nibbled on his bottom lip in thanks. Then his tongue teased forward, licking at Emerson’s mouth with playful intent. Emerson gasped and let his own tongue move out to meet Jonah’s.
Jonah was kissing him. Emerson was intoxicated with it. His limbs felt as though they were filled with buzzing electricity. It was getting harder and harder to keep his breath even. He pulled deep, desperate breaths through his nose. He felt dizzy, out of his body, and he was glad that Jonah was holding on to him, because all of his blood was rushing south.
Jonah pulled his mouth away, gasping desperately. He pressed his lips to Emerson’s cheek and murmured his name.
Emerson just pressed closer, pulling in deep breaths of his own.
Jonah wound both arms around Emerson’s body, and Emerson responded by winding his around Jonah’s neck. They were kissing again when Emerson noticed something hard pressing against his belly. Jonah was hard for him. For once, the feel of another man’s arousal was exciting and welcome.
Emerson groaned and pressed closer. A thrill of delight made him shiver when he realized that their hard-ons were pressed together.
“Emerson,” Jonah murmured as he pressed eager kisses to the corner of Emerson’s mouth and his jaw by his chin. A hand rubbed up his back, while the other rested warm and comfortable above his tailbone. A nibble to his lip and a kiss to his nose, Emerson shivered and moaned, drowning in all the delicious sensations.
It was wonderful. It felt amazing to be here with Jonah. Emerson threaded his fingers in Jonah’s long hair, like he had wanted to do ever since he first saw the new style. He placed a few haphazard kisses of his own, trying to reciprocate, but it was obvious that Jonah had more practice. Which was okay. Emerson was fine with that and not intimidated in the slightest.
He pulled a ragged breath and closed his eyes when he felt Jonah’s touch skate up the skin of his back. Right, Jonah was definitely putting all that practice to good use, and Emerson was seeing the benefits. He let his head fall down onto Jonah’s shoulder, then pressed kisses to his neck. With one last fleeting thought of trying to return the favor, Emerson drifted off on a haze of lust, letting Jonah guide the way.
§
THE first taste of Emerson’s lips was heady, but Jonah was only human, and he’d had a hard-on for Emerson since he was little more than a kid. Eventually he was going to want more than just Emerson’s admittedly luscious mouth moving enthusiastically against his own. Luckily, he hadn’t been going to the gym for nothing. It was a simple thing to reach out and put his hands on Emerson’s waist and drag him within acceptable heavy-petting distance, and then….
At the first hint of Jonah’s palm on the smooth, warm skin of his back, Emerson tensed, and for a second Jonah thought he might pull away. But no—his hands tugged a little harder at Jonah’s hair, and he shuddered so slightly that Jonah wouldn’t have noticed if he didn’t have his hands on Emerson’s bare skin, a fact that was incredibly distracting. Speaking of hands, he let them wander lower, wondering exactly how much Emerson would let him get away with, how much he was comfortable with. He didn’t want to push his luck, but God, he’d been waiting forever.
He scored his nails almost accidentally up Emerson’s back, and Emerson broke away from his mouth with a gasp and buried his face in Jonah’s neck instead. When Emerson took the opportunity to apply his tongue to the pulse point pounding away there, Jonah decided that was just fine. “God, Emerson, if you had asked me about this on Monday we could have spent the whole damn week in the apartment.” He didn’t say in bed, though he was thinking it. He knew that was across the line.
Emerson made a tiny noise of agreement that reverberated all the way to Jonah’s dick—no surprise there. Everything he did was going to Jonah’s dick at this point—and Jonah thought, Fuck it. If he didn’t push his luck now, he’d be waiting ’til Christmas at the earliest. He nudged Emerson down until he was sitting on the couch again, then followed him and slid his hands over Emerson’s front, tracing the contours of the flat stomach and firm chest. “Take your shirt off.”
Emerson bit him, momentarily derailing that train of thought as blood roared in Jonah’s ears. In response, he smoothed his hand over firm flesh until he found the tight bud of a nipple, brushing first with his thumb and then pinching and massaging lightly until Emerson detached from his neck and let out a gasp that did nothing to ease the raging erection between Jonah’s legs. Encouraged, he reached up with his other hand, giving the other nipple the same treatment.
Emerson moaned, and his hands tightened in Jonah’s hair. Not ready to take his shirt off yet, then, Jonah thought, and decided to help him along by applying his mouth to the sweet little patch of sunburned skin behind Emerson’s ear.
Emerson’s breath hitched. “Jonah—”
God, if Emerson sounded that wrecked now, when Jonah had barely touched him anywhere, he had a feeli
ng that all his brain cells were going to melt out his ears when Jonah finally got to his dick. Emerson had a voice made for the very best porn, and he was going to be loud, Jonah just knew it. He proved himself right when he slid his lips lower, sucking hard on the tendon in Emerson’s neck, and the air filled with the sound of Emerson’s groan.
Emerson released his death grip on Jonah’s hair, and for a minute he thought he’d been convincing enough for Emerson to let him take his damn shirt off so he could get his mouth on his chest already, but Emerson was going for the hem of Jonah’s tee instead, hands scrabbling across skin that had never been so sensitive. Reluctantly, Jonah dragged his hands away from Emerson’s skin and raised his arms so Emerson could pull it over his head.
Maybe that was a little too real for Emerson just yet, because once Jonah had his shirt off he just sat back a little on the couch, eyes wide and glued to Jonah’s chest, and yes, he was pretty built, but it wasn’t a damn competition. Emerson needed to remember that. Jonah shifted around on the couch and put his hands on Emerson’s waist again, this time depositing him right into his lap. “Stop over-thinking it and just kiss me again, Emerson,” he demanded, and he skated his hands right up the back of Emerson’s shirt again for extra credit.
That was all the coaxing he needed, apparently, because he pushed forward on Jonah’s lap, so close Jonah could feel his excitement through his jeans, and there was no way Jonah’s own erection was going to go unnoticed—Emerson had probably already felt it when they’d first kissed—but fuck it, that was sort of the point, wasn’t it? Disentangling his hands from Emerson’s shirt, he slid them up to the back of his neck instead and dragged him down to lip level.
Jonah licked into Emerson’s mouth, chasing the last hint of beer from his lips, teeth, tongue, stroking strong and sure, then fading back into a tease until Emerson whined high in his throat and pushed his whole body into Jonah’s, shoving him back into the couch as he fought for control of the kiss. “Fuck,” he murmured into Emerson’s mouth. He was trying like crazy to keep his hands above the belt, but unless Emerson actually told him to stop, he wasn’t going to be able to. The last week had been like one excruciatingly long striptease, and now he only had a few hours left to touch Emerson in all the ways he wanted to, and it was never going to be enough time. “I can’t believe you have to leave tomorrow, maybe we can change your flight—”
