Gasp!

by Z. A. Maxfield

  Jeff’s brows drew together. “I planned to finish my degree.”

  “I see.” Nigel nodded. “Where?”

  “UT Austin. I applied when I got back. I haven’t made up my mind yet, but I won’t be able to support myself without a four-year degree.”

  “A degree.”

  Jeff stroked his hair. “I don’t really see myself as part of your entourage…”

  “No,” Nigel sighed. But being held like that, against Jeff’s warm, solid body, he could wish. “I didn’t suppose you would want to sign on with me permanently.”

  “It’s not that I—”

  “Forget I said anything.”

  “No. Hear me out. I’m not abandoning you, Nigel. But I need to be able to hold my head up. It was the right time for me to leave the army, but now that I’m back, I have to make a life for myself.”

  “I understand.”

  “I can’t just be part of the Nigel Gasp machine, but I’m right here if you need me, I’ll only be a phone call away.”

  “Distance has a way of changing things.”

  Jeff tightened his arms around Nigel. “Technology makes the world smaller every day.”

  “I’ll be all alone.”

  Jeff laughed at that. “Yes, you will. You’ll only have a hundred people waiting to see to your every need. You’ll only have…what, twenty thousand people at every concert, hanging on every note you sing.”

  “You know what I mean. I’ll be lonely.”

  “I understand better than most people what it means to be alone in a crowd. When you’re lonely, pick up the phone. I’ll be right there. I promise.”

  “People say that all the time. They say they’ll be there, and then everything goes wrong and all that’s left is—”

  “I guess you’ll have to have faith in me.”

  “I don’t have faith in faith.”

  “I understand. But time will change your mind. About me, anyway.”

  Nigel tucked his face into Jeff’s neck. He moved to get comfortable, and water sloshed onto the floor.

  Jeff said, “You didn’t put down a bath mat.”

  “We’ll get it before we get out.”

  “We’d better. Don’t want you to slip. Gotta watch over you.” A smile crossed Jeff’s lips briefly. “C’mere. If we don’t move, probably nothing bad can happen.”

  Nigel laughed at that. “If we don’t move, nothing good will happen either.”

  “Nigel?”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “What you said about getting on people’s nerves… Maybe you don’t try to win people over so it won’t hurt if they don’t stick around, but I’m still here.”

  Nigel shifted his weight and grimaced. “I thought you said you weren’t going to move? In case you’re wondering, that should include your mouth.”

  “I just want you to know that if anything, you’ve grown on me. No matter what happens, there will never be a time when I won’t be here for you, somehow, even if we’re apart.”

  Nigel didn’t know what to do with that. Was that some kind of lover’s lie? Those white lies of good-bye for now that really meant I’m moving on?

  Did Jeff mean it?

  Surely he believed he did. Little softnesses are often exchanged in the moment.

  Their time together was almost up, and separation had a way of changing things. People grew apart. Seasons passed, and different stars appeared in the sky.

  Even if it all circled around again, it wouldn’t be the same.

  Nobody really means what they say right before good-bye.

  But…maybe Jeff did. Or maybe Jeff believed he did.

  Maybe Jeff imagined he’d be there or he truly wanted to be. That had to count for something.

  After a while Nigel heard what he thought was snoring.

  “Oooh, baby, yeah, yeah, I’ll be there…”

  Bloody hell…he’s singing.

  “I’ll be there…”

  Not that I can tell the difference.

  One of Jeff’s arms tightened around Nigel’s back while he crooned into the shampoo bottle. “La, la, la, blah, blah, blah, blah I’ll be there…”

  “Here. Give me that.” Nigel snatched the bottle from Jeff’s hand and took over. As the water grew cold around them, while their fingers wrinkled and they drained and refilled the tub with hot water two more times, Nigel sang all the songs he knew by heart.

  Chapter Thirteen

  They’d rinsed the soap from their skin before leaving the bath, but Jeff thought his felt a little too tight. His skin sizzled, and not in the good way, not like happy sizzling after a much-needed piss or horny sizzling on his way across a bar to hit on a good-looking guy.

  It wasn’t the anticipatory itchiness of needing to get off. The feeling was more like…Jeff didn’t know what. But he found a cure in the way Nigel’s thighs wrapped around him, the way he eradicated whatever space existed between their bodies and clung.

  Nigel did his own short work of preparation, tossing the lube tube over the side of the bed. He pushed at Jeff until he sat with his back against the headboard, and straddled him. From somewhere Nigel produced a condom and tore its wrapper off before checking it over. He took his time rolling it onto Jeff’s cock, using the fingers of both hands to smooth it.

  When it came to finding a way—the perfect way—to hold Nigel in his arms and fuck him, this had to be it, with Nigel in his lap so they could kiss and Jeff could hold him chest to chest. Nigel was in complete control of penetration—how hard, how deep, and how fast. Jeff loved it—loved having Nigel gaze at him, having his damp hair tickle the skin of his shoulders and arms while Jeff waited for him to take that first, agonizingly slow glide down Jeff’s throbbing dick.

  Their size difference didn’t matter so much when they sat like that, and Jeff was free to play, to tease—even to get a bit rough if he wanted to. Nigel was wiry and strong, and Jeff didn’t feel like he was going to break him. Even bereft of body hair, Nigel was all man. Cut and fine. Maybe a little too thin, but no less flexible than someone younger, and still so fucking hot it hurt. Plus he was some kind of maniac. Nigel was everywhere at once. His lips burned a hot trail over Jeff’s neck and shoulders; his hands kneaded and circled and pinched.

  When Nigel rose and positioned Jeff’s cock, Jeff nearly blacked out from the pleasure of it. Nigel prolonged the moment—of course he did—sinking millimeter by excruciating millimeter, wriggling a tiny bit until just the head of Jeff’s dick was enveloped in the heat of his body, and then a little more and a little more…

  Nigel’s mouth opened on a sharp intake of breath, but his gaze held Jeff’s.

  “Nigel.”

  Cool fingers framed Jeff’s face. “I just want to look at you. Everything you are is in your eyes.”

  Jeff’s immediate instinct was to squeeze his eyes shut and close Nigel out, but if Nigel wanted that much honesty, Jeff had to step up. He might not like it. He’d never fucked anyone while staring right into his eyes before. He’d never wanted to. It made him feel like a dick, like anyone could see he was just in it for his cock.

  Except…maybe he wasn’t in it for his cock this time. Maybe he was leaving his eyes open, laying himself bare for Nigel because he wanted Nigel to do the same. Maybe this wasn’t just fucking to get off.

  Maybe he was giving himself to Nigel in a way that he’d never given himself to anyone before.

  Christ, it was too much.

  Did he really want Nigel to know how much he needed this? How much this—how much Nigel—meant to him?

  Jeff flinched, and his cock slipped, poking into Nigel’s perineum, costing them the rhythm they’d shared, costing a brief laughing time-out and nearly killing his hard-on.

  “Fuck.” Nigel grunted. “Stay with me, Jeff. What just happened?”

  Jeff kissed the question off Nigel’s lips. “Nothing.”

  “Something.” Nigel pulled away to look at him.

  Jeff held still. “You know this is more for me than jus
t—” He used his body to illustrate his words. “For a minute I lost my nerve. To let you see that, I mean. To be that transparent.”

  Nigel nodded. When he didn’t speak, Jeff nudged him again.

  “Well, carry on then.” Jeff mimicked Nigel and kissed the tip of his nose. “Quick march.”

  “Prat.” Nigel laughed so hard he nearly expelled Jeff’s cock.

  “Oh my God, do that again.” Jeff tickled him, just a bit, just to make Nigel jump and squirm, to feel the way his body clenched and milked Jeff’s cock.

  “No.” Nigel squirmed and laughed so hard it nearly happened again. “Idiot.”

  Nigel dragged him in for a playful kiss, a teasing, tender, chase-me kiss, and Jeff kissed him back with a passion he hadn’t realized he was capable of. “God, what you do to me. I want to just breathe you inside me.”

  “Fuck me,” Nigel begged. “Harder.”

  Jeff grinned before pumping up hard with his hips. Nigel came down, grinding on him, arms wrapped around his neck and mouth open, letting Jeff inside him everywhere. Jeff crushed him in his arms, wanting to break Nigel apart—wanting to taste everything, to feel everything so he could own every minute they had.

  When he was close, he dug his fingers in, aware in some reasonable part of his brain he was probably bruising Nigel’s fair skin all over.

  “Ah God, Jeff.” Nigel ended their kiss and put his forehead down on Jeff’s shoulder.

  Deep in his balls, in his spine, in his thighs, Jeff felt his impending orgasm like melting muscle and bone, like he was wax and Nigel was fire, consuming him.

  “Come for me,” Jeff said through gritted teeth. “Let me feel you come for me, Nigel.”

  Nigel gave a groan, and after a few more quick thrusts, his ass clamped down, spasming on Jeff’s cock. Jeff held him through it, watching him, loving every second of seeing Nigel’s face transformed by his release.

  A few more jerky thrusts and Jeff was coming too, filling the condom until it slipped, hot and wet around the head of his cock. Filling Nigel with cum until he thought he’d never stop, until he wondered if he was going to just pour his whole self—his whole being—his heart and soul into Nigel’s body.

  Jeff held Nigel tight—he clung—realizing he’d already poured all that and more into Nigel Gasp.

  Minutes passed before Jeff put his hand down to grip the condom and pull out. They kissed through the awkwardness of disengaging and afterward he stripped the rubber off and tossed it over the side of the bed.

  Still connected in all the ways that mattered, Jeff slid down with Nigel in his arms, and they rolled together, sweaty, sticky, and sated, to drift off to sleep.

  “’S good,” Nigel murmured.

  “Understatement? From Nigel Gasp?”

  “Not usually my thing, is it? But there you have it.” Nigel yawned. “Don’t let go.”

  “I won’t,” Jeff whispered, “if you don’t.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Armed with a yellow nylon bath puff, Nigel lathered Jeff’s back until it was thick with suds. He then massaged Jeff’s skin with strong, firm strokes.

  “I think I’m the cleanest I’ve ever been in my life since I discovered you’re even hotter wet than you are dry.” Jeff braced his hands against the tile. “You can do that forever.”

  “I would, but I don’t dare give up the day job.” Nigel scrubbed the knotted muscles of Jeff’s neck. “It pays for the nylon scrubbers.”

  Jeff glanced around and winked. “I’ll whore myself out later if it means you keep doing this for a while.”

  “The only problem with that line of reasoning is I’d be your best customer.”

  “Yeah, all right.” Jeff eyed him. “Whatcha want?”

  Nigel laughed. How had he never realized how much fun it could be to have a lover? “On your knees.”

  Jeff took a second to rinse and did as Nigel asked. They had to shift positions in the shower stall to accommodate his long legs, and the water splashed down all over his head like rain. He still grinned up, I’m game, and brought Nigel’s hips closer with both hands in order to rub his face against Nigel’s damp groin.

  “Ahoy there.” Nigel gave his head a pat. “You look good like that.”

  “On my knees?”

  “You’d look better with my cock in your mouth.”

  Jeff obliged him without preamble. Nigel’s knees went weak, and his upper body slapped against the tiles in the corner. The contrast of cold tile on his back and the hot suction of Jeff’s mouth made him shiver all over.

  “Christ.” He closed his eyes and gave himself up to the pleasure of it. “Ah, Jeff.”

  Jeff took his cock, clenching and squeezing Nigel’s ass with both hands. Just when Nigel was starting to find a rhythm, he broke off what he was doing to nuzzle his ball sac and nudge past it, into the skin behind. One of his hands came up between Nigel’s legs and stroked down the crack of Nigel’s ass, inching toward the wrinkled aperture of Nigel’s anus, and when Jeff began sucking his dick again, it seemed he was also everywhere else, fondling Nigel’s balls, his crack, his hole. Jeff handled him masterfully, taking him to the back of his throat, swallowing around the head of his dick, giving pleasure, giving relief, even as he pushed his finger into Nigel’s tight channel and shorted out all his fuses.

  “Ah, Jeff.” Nigel’s cry was strangled. “Right there…yes.”

  Jeff merely bobbed his head once to acknowledge Nigel, whose legs trembled with the effort of standing. Jeff’s hands were silky and careful, and before he knew what was happening, before he was really ready, Nigel was jerking and coming, filling Jeff’s mouth with cum while Jeff held him close and took everything he had to give.

  Afterward Jeff wrapped both arms around Nigel’s hips and stayed there for the most lovely, the sweetest brief span of time. When he rose, they kissed and showered some more, Nigel rinsed the soap residue off Jeff’s skin and sluiced water off with his hands, just to have that contact, just to feel the damp hairs tickle the palms of his hands.

  Nigel admitted—if only to himself—he was crazy about Jeff.

  Or just plain crazy.

  “My sister’s going to be coming soon.” Jeff’s voice sounded hoarse.

  “I know,” Nigel said. “She texted me while you were sleeping.”

  “That means they’ll be here when?”

  “Deidre said tomorrow morning.”

  Jeff nodded. “I’m looking forward to seeing the baby.”

  Nigel grinned. “Hazard Alley Paxton.”

  “No. My God! That bitch. She refused to tell me what they named him, and she told you?”

  “Of course she told me. We’re close, you know.”

  “She’s my sister.”

  “If it makes you feel any better, she only told me this morning.”

  “Okay. It does, actually. Hazard Alley, though? Are you serious? That’s like revenge of the celebrity baby namers.”

  “Great name, isn’t it?”

  “She should have just painted a target on his back.”

  “I like it.”

  “Well, you would, wouldn’t you?”

  “It’s nice, don’t you think? He’s going to be a lucky kid.”

  Jeff tilted his head. “You really like her, don’t you? Not just as an employee, because she’s good at her job, but…you really like her.”

  “Funny thing is”—Nigel hesitated. Why does this feel so much like good-bye?—“I like the whole Paxton mob. You’re family. I’d do anything for you. You know, if you ever need anything, you've only to ask.”

  Jeff nodded. His voice felt like it came from some distance away. “Likewise.”

  Nigel saw Deidre’s rented minivan pull up to the gate from the bedroom window, and knew his respite—his escape from work, fame, and responsibility—was over. Whatever other pleasure and peace he’d found in the seclusion of Bluebird Mountain were probably over as well.

  He peered through the blinds as Deidre and her partner, Katje, enlisted Jeff�
�s help to drag their belongings—mostly baby items—inside while they carefully unlatched the child seat and brought him out.

  Nigel couldn’t help the shiver that ran along his limbs. Hazard Alley Paxton.

  My son. My flesh. My blood, being raised by my two best friends.

  Hazard’s paternity was Deidre and Katje’s secret to reveal or not, as they chose. So far even Deidre’s mother thought Hazard was the result of a sperm donor and in vitro fertilization—which was half-true. Only Deidre, Katje, and Nigel knew he’d been the donor.

  But even incognito fatherhood caught him like a punch to his gut at odd times; it made him edgy and emotional in ways he hadn’t planned. Ways he didn’t expect—like now, when he was about to meet his son, when he would hold his son for the first time and he felt all kinds of unprepared.

  Deidre glanced up as if she’d felt his gaze. She probably had; the woman was a witch and not in the friendly goddess-worshipping, pagan manner either. She had a sixth sense about him—about who he was and what he needed. She’d taken a job as his road manager and immediately written Surrender, Dorothy in the figurative sky of his world. He’d promoted her to personal manager as soon as he’d realized how much better off he was with her by his side. She’d sucked him into the swirling vortex of her kindness and shared her private life and her family with him. He didn’t put it past her to have set him up with her brother.

  She was his work wife and his conscience, and they were closer emotionally than he and anyone in his blood family had ever been.

  Now the three of them—Deidre, Katje, and he—had a child together. She saw him in the window and waved.

  I’m in love with your brother, but you probably already know that.

  He was Hazard’s father, and the truth would come out if anything ever happened to Katje and Dee, even though Jeff would be his official godfather. The arrangement was the closest he would ever come to having a family.

  Deidre said she’d tell Hazard and the rest of the family the truth, eventually. Not right away, while they were in the first blush of parenthood, so there would be no doubt who Hazard’s day-to-day parents were.