by A. E. Wasp
Jay-Cee wrapped his fingers around Chris’s wrist, his thumb gently caressing his pulse point. Just like that, Chris found he had a previously unknown erogenous zone.
Jay-Cee looked at him with an unreadable expression, his hand tightening around Chris’s wrist. He shook his head and pulled his hand away. “What do you want from me, Chris?”
Wasn’t that the question of the decade? What he wanted was for Jay-Cee to make the decision. But Jay-Cee had, hadn’t he? He’d told Chris it couldn’t happen, so why couldn’t Chris let it go? Technicaly, Chris had said it first, but he’d barely beaten Jay-Cee to the punch. Still, a big part of Chris couldn’t help feeling that he and Jay-Cee would be perfect together. Then again, a big part of him had felt that way about a lot of things that turned out to be really bad ideas.
Chris stuck his hands in his pockets again and shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“I need you to know.” Jay-Cee rubbed a hand over his mouth, fingers scratching slightly in his beard, then changed the subject. “Get back to work. I hear the boss is a hard-ass.”
Chris gave him a sloppy salute, then walked back downstairs feeling like he was playing way out of his league in more ways than one.
9 – Strange what desire will make foolish people do
Over the next two weeks, Chris wore Jay-Cee’s shirt five times. They played one-on-one four times. And Chris showered in Jay-Cee’s apartment exactly once.
That one time, he had ended up jerking off behind the glass doors while Jay-Cee, fully dressed, told him exactly what to do.
Surprisingly, sex with Jay-Cee hadn’t been at the forefront of Chris’s mind that day. Jay-Cee hadn’t touched him since Pride, though he’d done a lot of looking. And call Chris crazy, but he could swear Jay-Cee was sniffing him sometimes. Just in case he was, Chris made sure to always wear the cologne that made Jay-Cee’s nostrils flare when Chris passed close by.
So on the day of the Shower Incident, as Chris called it in his mind, Chris had let Jay-Cee kick his ass at basketball yet again.
After running around in the hot sun for a half an hour, he didn’t smell so sweet. So when Jay-Cee had asked Chris if he wanted to shower, this time Chris said yes. They’d both been heading up to the apartment when Benny stopped Jay-Cee.
“Got a second?” Benny asked Jay-Cee.
“Of course,” Jay-Cee answered stopping next to Benny’s desk. “What’s up?”
Chris hesitated. “Is it cool if I go ahead and shower? I feel gross.” He pointed upstairs to Jay-Cee’s apartment.
Jay-Cee waved him away.
Chris took the stairs two at a time, whistling under his breath. Slipping behind the screen separating Jay-Cee’s bed area from the rest of the studio apartment, Chris peeled off his clothes as he went into the bathroom.
He’d never been in Jay-Cee’s bathroom before, and the size of the shower took him by surprise. It also had him seriously considering redoing his crappy bathroom. How angry could the landlord get? Chris would be doing her a favor.
The shower stall itself was enormous. It had to be six feet wide and four feet deep. A large variety of panels, showerheads, handheld wands, and knobs lined the walls and a bench stretched across one short end, with a handheld shower head placed conveniently next to it. But the most amazing feature was the intricately beautiful mosaic that made up half of the long wall. Iridescent bronze, gold, and brown tiles depicted a larger-than-life man’s torso, from knees to neck. Chris wanted to lick it.
Stepping into the shower, he looked at the array of controls and wondered which one would give him a normal shower.
After getting a face full of water from a wall-plate and almost blasting the skin off his chest with the pulsing jets of one of the showerheads, Chris settled on the rainshower, because that was awesome, and a kind of cross stream of water from two wall plates. Oh my Jonas, he was never going to leave this shower. No other shower would ever be good enough for him after this. The sound of the water pounding on the tiles echoed off the walls, adding to the feeling he had of being in a protective cocoon.
Jay-Cee had an assortment of bath products stuffed into niches in the tiled walls. Chris sniffed a few and selected the moisturizing shampoo and conditioner that smelled like coconut.
When he flipped the cap on the lime and bergamot body wash, he got a sense memory of Jay-Cee’s skin, and he shivered. Before he could second-guess himself, he poured out a handful and rubbed it into his skin.
His muscles were warm and loose from the exercise, and his body buzzed with the heat of the steam and the memory of Jay-Cee on top of him. His hand drifted between his legs, and he languidly stroked his cock as he remembered, not really planning on getting off in Jay-Cee’s shower, as hot as that sounded, but because it felt good.
So really, he couldn’t be blamed for forgetting that Jay-Cee’s bathroom had no real door, a curved half-wall separated it from the bedroom.
“Enjoying the shower?”
Chris jumped as Jay-Cee’s voice came from the doorway. Oh crap. His back was to the doorway, and he prayed Jay-Cee couldn’t see anything more incriminating than his ass.
He didn’t know whether to turn away more from Jay-Cee, cover himself with both hands, or sink to the floor of the shower. Paralyzed, he stood there, hand on his cock and a deer-in-the headlights look on his face.
“Don’t stop,” Jay-Cee said, voice low as he stepped further into the room. He stopped right in front of the door with an unobstructed side view of Chris. His gaze slid deliberately down Chris’s body to where his hand was wrapped around his cock.
Oh, God. Despite the hot water, Chris broke into chills, caught between mortification and arousal. He was going to die of embarrassment. And with a hard-on apparently, since his cock was only growing harder the longer Jay-Cee looked at him. “Uh, I’m sorry. I’ll be out in a second.”
Jay-Cee stood close to the wide glass shower doors, one hand on the wall. He’d taken off his t-shirt, and silky silver hair spread across his broad chest and down his firm stomach, narrowing to a thin line that disappeared under his waistband of his shorts.
Those dark blue shorts had been Chris’s downfall during their basketball game. Chris had been too distracted by the lean, hard thigh muscles of Jay-Cee’s legs, his eyes caught by the tattoos curling out from under the leg holes of his shorts.
“I said don’t stop,” Jay-Cee repeated.
Oh. Chris didn’t stop. Heart pounding, he stroked himself quickly, skin sticking as the water washed away the soap.
“Turn and face me,” Jay-Cee said, and Chris turned as if on a string. He was going to die. He was going to come just from the sound of Jay-Cee’s voice.
The shower door slid open, and Chris’s breath caught in his throat. Jay-Cee reached an arm in and shut off the water shooting from the walls. The absence of the sound of pounding water was like a physical loss. Now Chris stood under the rain shower head, water falling gently down his body, and he could hear himself breathing heavily.
“Slower,” Jay-Cee said, watching Chris’s hand move quickly up and down his dick. Water bounced off Chris’s arm and onto Jay-Cee’s chest.
Chris slowed down, dragging his hand almost painfully slow from root to tip.
Jay-Cee reached in a little further and picked a small bottle off the shelf. “Hold out your hand.”
Chris did, and Jay-Cee poured a small puddle of oil into Chris’s palm. Chris gave it a quick sniff, but it had almost no scent.
The shower door clicked shut, and Jay-Cee stood safely outside again.
Chris felt somehow safer and sluttier at the same time with the door closed. It gave him the illusion of being alone, and let Jay-Cee play the voyeur while Chris could be the innocent accidental exhibitionist. He slid his hand down his cock, groaning at the slide of the oil. The water beaded on his skin without washing the oil away.
Jay-Cee looked like he wanted to eat Chris alive. His cock tented the front of his shorts, pushing against the elastic waistband. Leaning forward
, Jay-Cee wrapped his hand over the top of the door, knuckles turning white with the force of his grip. “Harder, but keep it nice and slow,” he said.
Chris stroked himself, fist tight around his hard cock. Panting, he dragged his hand up excruciating slowly, twisting the head at the top before sinking back just as slowly. A whine climbed up from his throat, and he bit his lip to keep it in.
“Let me hear you,” Jay-Cee ordered.
What choice did Chris have then but to open his mouth and add his groans and whimpers to the sound of the water bouncing off his skin?
“Stop.”
Chris dropped his hand, shuddering, and breathing hard, and his skin goose-pimpling under the cooling water.
Jay-Cee slid the door open again, and Chris flinched away. “It’s okay. You’re getting cold, I’m warming you up.”
The water falling down onto him grew hotter, and slowly his shivering stopped. Steam built up in the stall, and condensation coated everything in the bathroom: the walls, the mirrors, the silver fixtures. Chris sighed as the hot water cascaded down his body and over his sensitive cock. Head down to shield his face from the water, he stroked himself gently, lost in the sensations as he waited for Jay-Cee to tell him what to do next.
“Beautiful,” Jay-Cee whispered almost too low to be heard over the water splattering against the floor.
Chris looked up. The expression in Jay-Cee’s eyes punched an air out of Chris.
Both of Jay-Cee’s hands were pressed flat against the glass, the tips of his fingers and the flesh of him palm were white with the pressure. His eyes were wild, wide, and dark with lust.
Chris felt trapped, pinned under that glare. No one had ever wanted him so much before.
“So fucking beautiful,” Jay-Cee repeated softly. “I want to sculpt you, to forge you like that, and keep you forever.”
Chris groaned, lust stabbing so hard his balls jumped. He folded over, hand clenched around his cock to keep from coming. Not yet. Not yet. He couldn’t come, wouldn’t, until Jay-Cee told him to. He would stand there, hard and trembling, as long as Jay-Cee wanted him to, as long as Jay-Cee never stopped looking at him like that.
When Chris straightened up, Jay-Cee had his hand pressed hard against the huge erection straining against the front of his shorts. His eyes narrowed when he caught Chris’s gaze. “Get more oil,” he ordered.
He seemed almost angry, but Chris wasn’t scared. Somehow, it calmed him. Chris stepped out from under the water and reached for the small bottle. He poured some onto his palm and put the bottle back carefully. The puddle of oil felt warm against his skin, and he dipped a finger into it, tracing patterns against his palm.
“Now I want you to reach back and fuck yourself with your fingers.”
Holy fuck. He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. “I can’t.” His voice cracked. It was the first thing he had said since Jay-Cee had caught him with his hand around his dick.
“You can,” Jay-Cee said, voice deep and intimate. “You want to, and you want me to watch you while you do it.”
Oh, he did want to. Chris’s cheeks burned with embarrassment and lust over how much he wanted to do it. But still, he hesitated, eyes down.
“It’s okay to want it. To want me to see you.” Jay-Cee put his hand flat on the glass again, as if he could feel Chris though it. “You’re perfect, and you’re gorgeous, and you wreck me. Show me.”
Eyes on Jay-Cee, Chris twisted his shoulder and reached back around him. The oil felt silky against his water-warmed skin, and he slipped one finger in with almost no resistance. His mouth dropped open on a soft exhale of pleasure.
“Good,” Jay-Cee said. “Feel good?”
Chris nodded. “Yeah. Feels good. I need more.”
“Slut,” Jay-Cee said fondly.
The word sent lightning sizzling down Chris’s spine, and he moaned, knees shaking.
“Go ahead. Add another finger. Tell me how it feels.”
Hands shaking, Chris did. He braced one hand on his knee for balance. “Oh fuck.” Twisting his hand, he strained to push in deeper. “Fuck. Feels fucking good.” He thrust his fingers faster and harder.
Bent over, he couldn’t see Jay-Cee’s face, but he could see the bulge of his cock hanging huge and heavy in his shorts. There was a wet spot near the top.
“God, I want to see you,” Chris blurted out. “Please.” The sound of his hand slapping against his own ass was loud and obscene. So he did it harder, wanting to make sure Jay-Cee could hear what he had reduced Chris to.
“One more,” Jay-Cee forced out, voice rough. “One more and I will.” He rubbed his palm roughly over the head of his cock where it pressed hard against the material of his shorts.
“I, I, yes,” Chris gasped. Bracing one hand on the wall, he spread his finger, feeling filthy and slutty, and pressed a third finger in along the other two. He yelled at the feeling of fullness and pressure, then prayed Benny had his headphones in and the music up loud. “Jesus, fuck,” he spit out as his channel tightened around his fingers and his knees gave out from under him.
The impact of his knees hitting the hard floor sent a shock of pain up his legs and drove his hand deep inside himself. He yelled again, back arching as his cocked jerked hard on the edge of orgasm.
Jay-Cee moaned and yanked his shorts down. “Oh Chris. So good. You’re so good for me.”
Head hanging back against his shoulders, Chris grabbed his cock with his free hand. No power on Earth could have stopped him. There was no backing down from the orgasm he felt building. His thighs trembled and his shoulder ached with the strain of reaching so far behind him. He thrust his hips up, fucking his hand hard and fast.
“Look at me,” Jay-Cee barked. “God, look at me.”
With a herculean effort, Chris lifted his head and searched through glazed eyes for Jay-Cee’s face. Jay-Cee looked wrecked, sweat on his forehead and in the hollow of his throat, his fingers wrapped in a death grip around his hard cock.
Chris wanted to wreck him completely, to bring Jay-Cee over the edge with him. If he was going down, they were going down together.
Stilling his hips, he pushed up higher onto his knees, the pain only a sharper-edged pleasure. Slowly, he slid his fingers out of his ass with a long moan. Bracing his hand flat on the floor, he curved his back in a long arc, spreading his legs wide and putting himself completely on display for Jay-Cee. He’d never felt more slutty or more desirable.
Jay-Cee breathed heavily on the other side of the glass door. His eyes carved tracks across Chris’s skin that Chris wished he could feel. Reaching up he pinched his nipple hard, twisting the piercing around. “Want to feel you,” he panted. He dragged his fingernails down his torso, leaving a trail of four red lines in their wake.
Jay-Cee broke. “Fuck, Christopher.” His hands clenched so tightly into fists Chris was surprised blood wasn’t dripping from his palms. Jay-Cee whined, hand slamming against the shower door. “Fuck. Fuck.”
So, of course, Chris did it again, dragging his nails down his chest harder and more slowly. Water bounced off the shower floor and stung against the shallow scrapes, and Chris shivered, closing his eyes with how good it felt. “So fucking good. Feels so good. God, Jay-Cee. Wish it were you. Your hand.”
“Chris,” Jay-Cee said, desperation in his voice. “Oh, Chris. The things I want…”
The sound of flesh on flesh carried over the falling water, and Chris opened his eyes to see Jay-Cee jerking his cock almost painfully hard. Sweat trailed down his neck and chest, his eyes were wild and locked on Chris’s face, and a steady stream of grunts punched out of him in time with his brutal strokes.
He was falling apart, and Chris had done that to him without even a single touch. Chris’s head spun with the sensation. It felt like flying. If he didn’t come soon, his heart was going to explode.
Grabbing his cock, he thrust his hips up as he jerked his hand down. Faster and harder, until the bathroom filled with the sound of slapping flesh, male grunting, and the st
eady stream of blasphemy and profanity falling from Chris’s lips. “Fuck, God. Jay-Cee, Jesus Christ, you look, fuck, fuck!” Keeping his eyes open felt like the hardest thing he’d ever done, but there was no way he was going to miss watching Jay-Cee come.
Jay-Cee’s legs trembled, his chest rising and falling with the strength of his inhales.
“Fuck me, Jay-Cee. For the love of God, fuck me,” Chris begged.
And Jay-Cee fell apart with a shout that echoed off the tiles. His muscles locked up and he stopped breathing. His hot come splattered against the glass doors, and Chris prayed for the glass to miraculously dissolve.
Chris’s orgasm ripped through him, and he yelled his throat raw. But nothing mattered to Chris except the agony of pleasure on Jay-Cee’s face.
10 – A need I can’t explain
Jay-Cee’s muscles unlocked, and he staggered backwards into the vanity. He gripped the edges of the counter and struggled to stay upright. Heart pounding, he fought to get his breathing under control. Sweat dripped from his forehead to the floor, as his head dropped down against his chest. Jesus Christ. What the holy hell had he done?
Distantly he registered the sound of the water shutting off, then the susurration of the glass door sliding open. He didn’t raise his head as Chris got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around himself.
Jay-Cee’s brain was sluggish, all the blood drained from it. He hadn’t planned anything like this. He had expected Chris to be already out of the shower when he got upstairs.
Chris stood in front of him, and still panting for breath, Jay-Cee forced his head up. As his gaze landed on the red scratches on Chris’s chest, his cock lurched painfully.
Chris looked uncertain and very young, all the confidence and bravado washed down the drain with the proof of his pleasure.
Chris had been glorious. He was beautiful like this. Skin flushed red with sex and heat, body lax from orgasm. He shouldn’t look like he did, angry and confused and ashamed. He should be curled up with contentment while Jay-Cee doted on him. But they didn’t have time for that, not with Benny waiting downstairs.
