Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc., are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended. This story, any original characters, and the plot are mine.
This story is rated M. It has adult themes, including slash.
"You're gay!" I watched his reaction to my exclamation. "You are fucking kidding me."
"Yeah, I am. Is that a problem?"
"Absolutely not. It's the best news I have ever heard." His brow knitted as he processed my reaction, and a shy smile curled his lips.
"You'd better believe it. That is fucking brilliant."
My best friend was standing in front of me and telling me the words I'd fantasized hearing so many times over the years. I was shocked. His face was stained red with his blush. He seemed embarrassed and I wasn't sure why, but his next words seemed to add a little bit of light.
"You really don't care, Jay? You don't care that I like guys?" His blue eyes looked at me beseechingly.
"No. I really don't. In fact, I think it's fantastic." I could tell that he was confused. His head was shaking slightly, from side to side, like he couldn't believe what I was saying. There he was, embarrassed and confused, and here I was, nearly jumping out of my skin with the excitement of what I had just learned.
"Jay, something isn't making sense here. You seem very happy for me, which to be honest I wasn't really expecting," his head continued to shake from side to side, "and I just… I'm damn confused, man."
"Pete, I am happy to know this, happier than you could possibly imagine, but not just for you." I stared at him until understanding started to light his eyes. "I am happy for me, buddy. I have hoped for a long time that one day you would tell me you like guys. Hoped, but never believed it would happen, so this is fucking incredible."
He stood unmoving, just staring at me in disbelief. I took a tentative step toward him, pausing for a moment before taking another, repeating this stop start pattern until I stood directly in front of him. I could smell him now that I was close enough, and damn if it wasn't the most delicious thing in the world. Apart from an awkward man-hug when he had picked me up at the airport, this was the closest I'd been to him in two years.
Pete and I went to high school together. I moved to Houston when I was a freshman and we became best friends quickly. I was the outsider and he was the artsy outcast from a different school district, so we teamed together. We were always a good pair, watchful of the other's back, always there for the other. By the time we were sophomores our status as rejects had lessoned some, and by the time we were juniors, we'd become accepted. Me, because I played football and was an asset to the team; Pete, because he was so 'alternative' that he became something for the others to be in awe of; and 'us', because we didn't give a fuck about what any of those other dickheads thought of us. We were tight. Unbreakable.
At least that's how it seemed to the outside world, and most probably to Pete. Actually, I thought we were tight too, sharing everything with each other. Everything, except the rather large secret I never told him. The secret crush I held for him that threatened to topple it all over. I always thought I could never let him know how I secretly felt about him, how I longed for him every time I looked at him, how I dreamed about him. How I fucked my hand nearly every morning and night as I pictured his face and body and what I wanted to do to them.
So instead I lived a lie, not just because of Pete, but also because of school and football, my bigoted family, and the bigoted town we lived in. Luckily, I didn't mind the girls I stuck my cock into. I'd never experienced a man, and my limited experience was content with a wet pussy or a hot mouth when it needed relief from something other than my hand.
And Pete, well Pete had Charlotte. They got together in our junior year and were together until we all went to college. They stayed in Houston and I went across to the other side of the country—Boston.
Ah, Boston—the site of my awakening. Everything I had repressed at high school had flooded out of me once I got to college. I loved it. Of course there aren't many eighteen year-olds that don't love college, but when you are one of the ones who has had to hide yourself—at least thought you had to hide yourself—and then you get there, and there is nothing to hide from and everything to embrace: you let go. And I did, with a delirious fervor.
The only thing I didn't do, was admit any of this to my family and my best friend. I didn't want to lie anymore though, so instead of heading 'home' for vacations and holidays, I made excuses and stayed in Boston. How could a place I called 'home' be the catalyst for such deception in my life? It was a deception I didn't want to admit to myself and by staying away I didn't have to lie—to their faces at least. I'd become quite adept at lies of omission. Every phone call just one more to add to my tally, and when that tally started to become a weight on my shoulders, I avoided the calls.
I had psyched myself for this visit. Mom was insistent that I return for Christmas this year and would not take no for an answer. So I agreed.
I agreed on one condition, made only to myself. I would not contact Pete when I got there, as I doubted I could continue lying to his face, and I wasn't yet ready to face him.
Imagine my surprise to find Pete waiting for me at the arrivals gate.
Imagine my surprise when he took me straight to his place, where he lived alone.
Imagine my surprise when the words left his mouth.
"I'm gay, Jasper."
I breathed him in.
I stood there, inches from him, and breathed him in.
The scent of his aftershave, the leather of his jacket, the cigarette he'd smoked in the car.
I breathed him in.
It was the all-consuming scent of Peter.
It was something that I had not forgotten in two years, and it was pushing down on me and smothering me with its intenseness.
So, I breathed him in.
Our eyes were locked—two sets of penetrating blue—as I tried to make him understand me. As I tried without words to tell him I wanted him, more than I'd ever wanted anything in my life. As I tried without words to ask whether there was a chance that he wanted me too.
None of my silent questions mattered, because he understood them, and I knew it when his hand reached up and his thumb caressed my lip. I closed my eyes at the touch, reveling in the sensation of such an intimate gesture from him. I couldn't see him move, but I felt him come closer until his lips were ghosting over mine. I fell into the kiss, lavishing his mouth with mine, hoping I could convey how I felt at this moment to be with him this way. Our tongues and lips were all over each other, sliding along necks and faces, then meeting back together.
It wasn't long before hands joined in, lifting sweaters and tee shirts, undoing buttons and zippers, pushing down jeans and briefs, and then we were naked; our bodies pulled tightly together at every available point. I could feel the pounding of his heart through his chest against mine.
As nice as this was, I needed more. I craved more.
I moved close to his ear, so that I'd be sure he'd hear my whispered words. "I'm not the same boy you once knew, Pete." I felt him swallow at my tone. "I'm not nice any more. I like things a bit… rough."
"Oh, he won't help you." I snickered.
"Jay?" There were a million questions in the way he said my name.
"Can I fuck you, Pete?" I kissed his throat. "Will you let me?"
"Yes. Fucking hell, yes."
"I can't be gentle." I needed to know he was okay with what I wanted. I would never force myself on someone who wasn't totally ready and willing for me.
"I want you." He grasped my hand. "I've always wanted you."
"Good." I smiled—or rather 'smirked'—at him.
"This way." He started walking and I followed, deciding it may be the first time, but it wouldn't be the last.
We reached his bedroom and he went straight to his bedside table, opening the drawer and pulling out condoms and lube and sitting them on top. I stood at the doorway and watched, my hand holding my stiff prick and stroking it lightly. When he turned to look at me, a questioning look in his eyes, I decided it was time to start.
"Get up onto the bed on your hands and knees, Pete, and find something to hold onto." Pete groaned aloud, and as he settled on the bed I could see his hard cock bob up and down and the trail of pre-cum that leaked from it, fall on the bedcover.
"Do you know how many times I watched this ass as it was walking away from me?" He whimpered as I gave it a quick, but firm, slap. "What I would have given to be able to touch it, just as I am now." Slap. "It called to me, did you know that?"
"God. If only I'd known?" His voice was pleading, but not for me to stop. He wanted more.
"I used to dream about burying myself balls deep inside you, Pete." I ghosted my hand over his now pink flesh, soothing the skin for a moment. I leaned over him, my chest against his back, and whispered in his ear. "I came so many times to thoughts of you, Pete." I licked his lobe and the shell of his ear. "In the shower. In my bed." I pulled his lobe into my mouth and bit lightly with my teeth. "Even when you were asleep next to me when you stayed over, Pete."
He groaned and a shudder ran through him.
"Did you know that I jerked off next to you when you were sharing my bed?"
"No. God, no."
"Well, I did, Pete." I kneeled up again, my hand still resting on his ass. "Do you know how hard it was to be quiet with your fuck-hot body lying next to me? I could hardly stroke my cock because I was so scared of waking you up."
"And now I find that you would have loved to watch me jerk off."
"Yes. Fuck, yes," he answered my non-question.
"Can you imagine the restraint I had to have, Pete? How hard it was not to touch you, not to ask you to touch me. How hard it was not to shoot every bit of my eager load all over your body."
"I'm sorry, Jay. Fuck, I'm so sorry." His whimpers had returned.
"Why are you sorry, Peter?" I dragged out his full name, something I had rarely ever done.
"Because… because I didn't tell you."
I leaned over him again, grasping his hair in my fist and gently, but firmly, pulled his head back and around so that he could look into my eyes.
"What didn't you tell me, Pete?"
"I didn't tell you that I was gay, that I wanted you so badly, that I was in—"
"Not now." I quickly interrupted him. My heart was beating at his almost confession, but now was not the time for it. "I didn't tell you either, but I'll tell you now." I moved my head down next to his and captured his lips with mine. The kiss was all and more than I could have ever asked for, even in that awkward position, and as my hand released his hair and went to clasp around his neck, I pulled away. "I'm gay, Pete, and I want you." As I kissed along the ridges of his spine I continued. "I wanted you then." I gave him a few more kisses. "And I want you now." When I reached the firm globes of his ass, I licked and then bit down softly, eliciting just the response I'd been hoping for. He pushed back against my face and cried out. "And I'm gonna have you, Pete. I hope you're fucking ready."
"I've been ready for so long, Jay. So fucking long." I watched as his head seemed to gain an added weight and he slumped forward. I needed to stop him internalizing the 'should haves' and concentrate on what was happening here and now.
"So, yes? Is that what you're telling me, Pete?"
"You're ready now?"
"Yes. God damn it, yes."
"Okay. That's the kind of passion I'm after." Sitting back on my ankles behind him and then leaning in to his body, I again bit against the cheeks of his ass, nibbling one side and then the other until I stopped in the middle at the top of his crack. "I think that kind of passion needs rewarding."
"Please, Jay. Please," he pleaded, a tangible desperation laced through his voice.
I ran my nose down and along the join of his cheeks, inhaling as I went. Fuck, if I thought he had smelled good before, with clothes on, it was nothing to how he smelled here. There was no corruption here, it was uniquely Peter. Musky and strong, and I craved it. I craved him.
I sat back again and just watched for a moment, one hand caressing up and down his back and the other continuing to sooth the still rosy flesh in front of me.
"What do you want? What do you want me to do to you?" My left thumb moved to gently push against his entrance, teasing him. My right hand returned to its place on his butt and I tapped him gently, close to my other hand. "Should I smack you again?" He nodded his consent. "Or maybe you'd prefer it if I just got you ready for me to fuck you?" I looked down at my lap and my hard-as-steel cock. It was certainly ready to play. He had started to push back against my hand that was still rubbing teasing circles against him. "Tell me, Pete. Tell me what you want me to do to you."
"Everything… I want it all." I smiled at his needy response. He was perfect—greedy and desperate for me.
"Interesting." I tapped him again. "I think I may have to accommodate you with your request."
Damn he was killing me. I reached for the lube, dropping it in front of me, and a condom. I quickly sheathed myself, knowing that when the time came for me to enter him, I wouldn't want to wait for a second. Pouring lube into my left palm, I slicked my fingers and returned my hand to his ass, immediately resuming my thumb against his hole. This time though, I pushed in to the first knuckle, earning a throaty groan from him.
"You like that, baby? You like my thumb in your ass?" His response was silent but immediate as he pushed back, trying to take in more of my digit. This is where the fun would begin. I pulled my other hand back and brought it down harder than before, right over the top of where my thumb was pushed into him. The slap sounded and he groaned.
I pulled my thumb out, earning a whimper of disappointment from Pete, but quickly replaced it with my middle finger, pushing in quickly and deeply, until I couldn't go any farther. He moved in front of me, dropping down from his hands onto his chest, his arms stretching out in front of him and gripping onto the bars of the bedhead, the new position opening him to me. "Yes, baby. That's it. You're so fucking eager." I turned my hand so that my palm faced down and as I pushed in and out of him, I made sure to brush against his prostate each time.
"Dammit, Jay. Fuck!"
"Do you want more, Pete? Another finger maybe? Two?"
"Yes… Everything… Give it to me." He panted out.
"Everything you say? How about this—" My words were interrupted by the slap of my hand again, this time over his right cheek. I quickly followed with a connection with his left. His right… his left… Continuing for six in total as I felt his channel clench around one hand every time the other hand connected with him. I pushed in another finger, fucking him with them. Every time I pulled out, nearly removing my hand, but not quite, I would push in and down, making sure to push against the rise of his sweet spot and earning the sweetest moans of near delirium I had ever heard.
I quickly pushed in a third finger, wanting to be absolutely sure he was ready for me. It only took a moment because his hole seemed to pull me in every time I tried to pull out, his muscles clenching around my fingers. My cock was straining forward, seeming to know exactly where it wanted to go. "I'm going to pull my fingers out of you now, Pete," I told him.
"No," he growled out to me, causing me to smile at his disagreement. Slap. His back arched as he pushed upwards, not expecting my punishment.
"Oh, Pete, you dare disagree with me when there is such a better prize coming your way."
"I'm sorry," he mumbled repentantly.
"Oh, but you're not sorry. Not really." I leaned forward, bracing myself on the bed next to his back and leaning in to his ear again. "That's okay, though. You'll learn." As I returned to my position behind him, rubbing the excess lube from my hand over my dick, I reached under and through his legs, grazing against his shaft and balls with the backs of my fingers. "Your punishment this time, is that I'm not going to touch your cock, Pete." His groan of disappointment was discernable and I smiled wickedly. "But I will let you come whenever you are ready—this time. I'm feeling," I leaned down and kissed the middle of his back as far as I could reach, "generous."
When I kneeled back up, I positioned my cock at his entrance, and with one firm push I seated myself deep inside him. The immediate arching of his back and the clench of his muscles around me, coupled with a throaty groan, was all that I needed to know that I had got it right. He was in heaven. And so was I.
"Peter!" I growled out as his heat engulfed me. I had to stop and take a moment. My hands held his hips firmly, holding him in to me and not letting him move. He was trying hard to do so and I watched the muscles in his back as he itched for some control of the situation. When he bucked against me I knew I had to remind him of my control. Slap.
"Oh, I'm about to, Pete." I soothed his rosy cheeks as I talked.
"Please," he pleaded, the tone of his voice a dramatic change from his exclamation only seconds before.
"Get back up on your hands and brace yourself against the bed," I commanded and he acquiesced immediately. "Good boy." I withdrew until just the engorged head of my cock was encased in him and smiled at the visual. It was one of the hottest things I'd ever seen—his rosy pink ass spread wide and my dick ready to slam into it. Yes! "Hold on tight."
"Fuck me, Jay. Do it!" He looked back for a brief moment and our eyes met. I didn't need to say a word. I just slammed back into him. "Gah!"
"Scream for me, Pete. I want to hear how much you want my cock." I pulled out and slammed in again and again. I could feel my balls hitting against his every time, and he took every hard thrust I gave him with fervor.
"Do you like that?"
"Watching my cock slide in and out of you…" I had to pause my words for a moment, "is so fucking hot…"
Slam. Slam. Slam.
"I can… I can see your ass…" The words were hard to form now, but I had to let him know what he was doing to me. "Your ass… clenching around me."
"It wants me." Slam. Slam. "You want me."
"Yes, Jay." He was writhing under me now, his back arching and his shoulders rising as he tried to find the spot that would tip him over the edge. "God, yes."
"I'm gonna come inside you, Pete. Deep… deep inside… you."
"Do it!" he bellowed. "Fuck me." He took a breath. "Come in me."
"Are you close, Peter?" My voice was low and I hoped to god that he was.
"So close… So fucking good."
I knew just what he needed. I pushed up on my knees and bent over his back, giving me the added height needed to angle my thrusts differently. I braced myself with one hand on the bedhead, next to his, and one hand on his hips, and then I withdrew until just my tip remained in him, and then I pushed… down.
"Fuck!" he screamed. I pulled back and repeated my movement. "Fuck… Jay?"
"So good. You feel so…" Thrust. "Fucking…" Thrust. "Good!" My hand was squeezing his hip hard and I knew I should let go, but I couldn't. He'd be bruised tomorrow, but he'd bear my mark.
"Coming," he panted. I could feel his passage starting to clench around me. Pull out. Thrust.
"Me too!" I growled. Pull out. Thrust. "Fuck!"
"Jasper…" he bellowed and his body started to quiver all over. I could see the corded muscles in his back and shoulders tense, and I could feel the constriction of his ass around me, and that was all I needed. Pull out. Thrust. Explode!
"Gahhhhhhhhhhh!" I howled.
I slumped over his back, trying my hardest to support my weight with the hand that was still holding on tightly to the bedhead. Knowing I couldn't stay there long, I kissed between his shoulders and kneeled back up, holding the condom and withdrawing as I collapsed beside him, his body following to mirror mine almost immediately.
We lay there just staring at each other for long moments until our breaths started to even out and our consciousness returned.
"Senfuckingsational." I laughed. "Tell me again why we didn't do that sooner."
In an unexpected move he pushed me onto my back and straddled my hips, the used condom still on my cock and seemingly of no concern to him. He leaned forward, attaching his lips to my throat and he sucked—hard. My accompanying whimper brought his attention to my lips and he kissed me before sitting back up and meeting my stare.
"Doesn't matter." He had a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Just tell me we can do it again."
Thanks for reading.
To the wonderful edwardsisobel, thank you for beta reading this for me.
This was my entry for 'Dirty Talking Jasper 2'. Thanks to those that read and reviewed over on the contest page. Congrats to all the winners and other entrants. There were some great stories. Go check them out.