Wes
The guy across from me at my station winces as I massage his finger. He severed a tendon and had to have surgery to stitch it back up. It’s my job to make sure his extensor tendon works properly once he’s healed.
“Does it hurt?” I ask.
He shakes his head and shrugs while watching me with side eyes. “Nah, it’s just… gross, man. You sure you can rub on it like that, stitches and all?”
I chuckle. “Yep. It’s fine. My hands are clean.”
“But I, like, just had surgery two days ago.”
“Trust me, I know what I’m doing. You’re okay, as long as it doesn’t hurt.”
“It feels weirdly good.”
I give him a bright smile, gently place his hand on a towel on the table, and pat his forearm. “PT isn’t all pain,” I say.
He watches me intently as I gather some things to make a contraption for him.
“What’s that?”
“I’m going to put it on your hand. It has a rubber band to keep the finger pulled back. You’ll keep it on and use both your flexor and extensor tendons to exercise with.”
“Does it hurt?”
I chuckle again. “It shouldn’t.”
As I set up the device on his hand, he asks, “Shouldn’t you wrap up my hand again? My stitches are hanging out.”
“It’s fine. Just keep the area clean. You’re healing nicely already. Other PTs may do things differently, but this is my way. Your finger will be working in no time.”
Right when I’m wrapping it up, Justin walks in with his hands shoved into his pants pockets.
“What’s up, bro?” I say. “Give me a second.”
He nods and sits stiffly on one of the therapy beds.
After I check out my patient, I put everything away. In the bathroom, I swap out my work shirt for a navy-blue V-neck sweater with the sleeves pushed up.
“You sleeping, dude?” I ask Justin, who’s just lying there with his eyes closed.
“I hate mornings.”
I laugh and offer him my hand. He takes it, and I help him up. “The price of being a teacher.”
“Psh, you’re the morning person, not me.”
“Years of having to run before dawn will do that. Hey, at least you can sleep in tomorrow.”
“Barely. I have tests I need to grade.”
I pat his back as we walk out. Don is sitting behind the check-in desk. I offer him my hand, and he shakes it. “You sure you can’t make it out with us?”
Don pretends to think. “Hmm, going out with some dudes, or going on a date with my girl, who I haven’t seen since this summer. Tough one, man.”
I roll my eyes and chuckle. “Bro, a no would’ve sufficed.”
“Next time. Promise. Have fun.”
“Night, Don.”
We step inside Jeremy’s Junction for happy hour. Justin and I make our way to the bar and order ourselves a beer. The place isn’t quite crowded yet, but it will be soon enough.
I scan the place, but this time I’m not scanning for cute ladies. It’s the tall, dark, and broody one that I’m seeking. Since he’s not here yet, I shoot him a text.
Me: Yo, where are you?
Whiplash: On my way. Got hung up.
Me: I can’t get ‘hung’ out of my head
now.
Whiplash: Juvenile.
I snort a laugh and shove my phone into my pocket.
“Where’s Rose tonight?” Justin asks.
“Eh, she’s with her boyfriend doing proper date stuff. How about you? Any luck in the dating market?”
He swipes open his phone and shows me a dating profile.
“Oh, getting serious, I see. Good profile pic, although a smile would probably help.”
I think I’ve seen Justin smile, like, three times as long as I’ve known him.
He shrugs and puts away his phone. “I’m trying. Whenever I do meet someone, they’re a fucking student. At least this way, I can filter out their ages.”
“True enough. I’ve been asked out by a slew of students swinging by for therapy.”
Justin rolls his eyes. “Poor you.”
I wave a dismissive hand. “Hey, it’s not easy looking this good. Seriously, though, it’s getting weird.”
“I hear you. I’ve got students tying me up during office hours, wasting my time, flirting, and chit-chatting. I’m not a chit-chatter. I live vicariously through you. You make me look like I’ve got a personality.”
I crack up and nearly spill my beer. “Bro, you have a good personality. You’re just… dry.” I pat his back. “And I love you for it.”
“How about you?” he asks.
“Would you freak out if I told you I’m testing the waters with a guy?”
He coughs, nearly choking on his beer. “Poor queer people. They go through hell coming out, and you’re nonchalant as fuck about it. I guess that makes you queer now, too.”
“I suppose so. I mean, when Dennis came out, everyone still loved him. No one cared. If they did, they didn’t say anything. It’s how I grew up. Does that make me a little na?ve? Probably.”
“What brought this on, man?”
I shrug and take another sip of my lager. “It just happened. Neither of us was expecting it. So far, we’re just foolin’ around.”
“Just be careful, Wes. You can’t just jump into this like a cold lake until you get used to the water. You could affect real lives. Someone could get hurt.”
“Yeah, I get that,” I sigh. “It’s not like we’re serious anyway.”
Would I be opposed to that if it came down to it? Who knows? Baby steps.
I happen to glance at the front door to see Jett walk in. A little dip in my stomach surprises me. “Speaking of the devil,” I say.
“Is that him?”
“Yep.”
Justin grips my shoulder. “Is that…”
“Yep.”
“What are the fucking odds…”
“Tell me about it.”
Jett looks fucking good, too. Who would’ve thought I’d find a guy hot? Here I am, admiring him in his loose-fitting dark wash jeans, dark brown boots, and beige linen shirt, open to a white tank top. His ears pop with small gold hoops, and a thin gold chain glints around his neck.
“Fuck…” I whisper.
He scans the bar until his eyes land on mine. I wave him over, and he sexily saunters our way.
“I’m not into guys, but I can admit when someone is hot,” Justin says close to my ear.
“Right?”
When Jett reaches us, I gently fist his shirt and look up at him. “You look hot. Can I kiss you?”
He smiles awkwardly and glances around before his eyes are back on mine. Instead of answering, he gives me a quick nod.
Jett has to lean down a little so I don’t have to stand on my toes. I’m enveloped in his delicious vanilla scent, mixed with that amber and almond… I take a deep breath of him before my lips land on his. Our kiss is soft and doesn’t linger.
He leans close to my ear and says, “Always wear blue.”
“You got it.”
I pull away and introduce him to Justin.
“Can I get you a beer?”
“Yeah, something amber. You pick.”
I leave Justin and Jett to talk about stats, of all things. Not sports stats, but crime stats, which I know zero about. I beam at how quickly they’re talking, bonding over numbers, while I order a beer for Jett.
After a few more drinks and playing some darts, we head home now that happy hour is over.
As we walk back to our building, I slide my hand into his. “Is this okay?”
He looks down and nods. “Ah, yeah. Your friend seems cool.”
“He’s kind of quiet until you get to know him. I’m glad you guys hit it off.”
We step into the lobby of our building and head to the elevator. My finger hovers over the numbers, my stomach tight with anticipation. “Your place or mine?”
He frowns, then licks his lips. “Uhm, I don’t know.”
I wink at him. “Let’s see how the famous Jett Cordier lives. I barely glimpsed your place last time. I got a little… distracted.”
“I’m hardly famous.”
“Tsh, you are to me.”
Jett fingers his gold chain, watching the numbers climb. My little Whiplash is unusually nervous or shy.
When we reach the 12th floor, I yank on his hand again and walk toward his apartment.
He lets me enter first. I step inside and look around at the simple, yet comfortable furniture. Actually, there’s hardly any furniture. He’s got a sofa, a table with a TV on it, one lamp, and one stool at the kitchen counter. Like mine, the walls are bare.
“Do you own your place?” he asks, dropping his keys on the kitchen counter.
“Yeah, I bought it this summer.”
“I rent mine. I haven’t decided to buy yet, or…”
I turn to face him. He’s looking away again, frowning. “Or what?”
He shrugs and stares at his feet. “Just… I guess I’m not sure if… It doesn’t matter.”
I step up to him and rest my hands on his hips. “Talk to me.”
Jett finally looks at me and mirrors my pose. “I’d rather have some fun.”
He’s deflecting, but I can’t make someone talk if they don’t want to. I smirk and raise a brow. “Oh, some naughty fun?”
“Definitely.”
“I want to suck you down. Will you let me?”
“You sure are bold for someone who’s never been with a guy before. Do you really want to dive right in like that?”
“Definitely,” I mimic.
His eyes flash with uncertainty, but I’m going to change that look to fucking blissed out lust. I’m going to try anyway.
I slide off his unbuttoned button-up, exposing smooth skin and hard muscle underneath the tank top. With a finger, I push on his chest and walk him backward until he falls onto the sofa.
I climb on his lap, straddling him, and cupping his face. His hands are back on my hips, watching me, that uncertainty never leaving his soulful eyes.
Before I lean in to kiss him, I say, “Trust me.”
Jett says nothing, not that I give him a chance, when my lips land on his.
I cradle his face as I drag the tip of my tongue across his mouth.
He opens for me, and I plunge inside. He soon relaxes, getting into it, and kissing me back as if I matter.
We kiss like that for a while, taking our time, tasting each other.
It’s less hungry than before, but no less hot.
Eventually, I pull away to come up for air and target his ears, which I know he likes. I nibble and lick. He groans, his fingers digging into me as if asking for more. I move down to his throat, where I do the same. His scent is fucking heady, his cologne divine.
His head falls back on the sofa as my hands explore his chest and abs. I tuck my fingers underneath his tank and lift it over his head, tossing it somewhere behind me. I also yank off my sweater and lose it on the floor.
Like me, his hands explore my body, his fingers trailing across my nipples, sending a shuddering wave of chills across me.
“Pinch them,” I order.
He shakes his head, a smile playing along his lips, but he does it, pulling a moan from me. My dick is hard and trying to punch through, desperate for friction, while his swells against mine, which turns me on even more.
My mouth waters with the need to taste him. To know what it’s like to suck cock. I’m oddly not nervous about it.
My eyes slam closed when he pinches my nipple a little too hard, but I fucking love it. I also love that he’s getting bolder. Mr. Whiplash.
“I’m going to suck you down now,” I say.
He nods, his eyes glazed over with arousal. I stand, dropping to my knees between his legs, reaching for the button and zipper of his jeans, opening them. Jett lifts his ass, and I tug them all the way off, along with his underwear. Now, he’s gloriously naked.
“Fuck, you have a hot body.”
I run my hands over his thick, hard thighs, dusted with fine, curly black hair. His cock moves a little, as if seeking to be relieved. I can remedy that, I think… I hope so.
I fist his length and give it a few gentle pulls. “Tell me if I’m doing a shitty job, okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Though I’m going to do my best to make you come like hell.”
He groans. “Fuck, you’re talking too much.”
I shrug. “It’s fun.”
One thing I enjoy most about sex is the foreplay and oral sex. I fucking love pleasing my partner, and being vocal is a part of that.
Fuck, I’m about to go down on Jared ‘Jett’ Cordier. Strange days…
His eyes go wide when I swipe my tongue along the underside of his cock. I try to focus on what I like. I’m sure it’ll be close to what he does.
“I fucking love how you smell,” I say.
He doesn’t say anything, but I have enough words for both of us. All that matters is his reaction, his pleasure, and that I can get him to come.
I keep my eyes on him as I curl my tongue around the crown. A bitter earthiness hits my tongue when I swallow some pre-cum. His head falls back, his fingers trailing through my hair, pulling at the strands. My scalp stings, which feels amazing.
After toying with him for a bit, tugging on his nuts, I swallow him down, or attempt to. I can’t deepthroat him, so I fist his length and move my hand in the rhythm of my bobbing head. Jett grips my hair tighter, a deep moan leaving his throat.
“Jesus,” he gasps. “Yeah, that’s… fuck.” When he gently thrusts into my mouth and pulls my hair tighter, I know he’s getting into it. Hell, I’m into it.
His pre-cum is spilling, and I’m drooling everywhere. I must be doing something right because he’s still making those sexy noises and moving to meet my mouth. His legs are relaxed and spread-eagled, his heady scent engulfing me.
Can I swallow his cum? My partners have done it for me. If they can do it, so can I.
Jett’s breathing is getting heavy and loud. He’s close. His cock throbs in my mouth, hot and hard.
“Gonna come,” he gasps, tapping my head.
I suck on him harder and move faster, and I know right then I’m going to swallow his cum.
“Hey…” He taps my head again, but I don’t stop.
I fondle his balls as I curl my tongue around the head again, teasing the orgasm out of him, before I swallow him down as far as I can. When I gag, he explodes. Despite expecting it, it catches me by surprise. Hot spurts hit my tongue, and when he’s finished, I swallow in one gulp.
Jett lets go of my hair and covers his face with his hands. His chest heaves, small shivers moving through him. “Shit… Fuck me… I don’t get you, Wes,” he rasps.
I stand, remove my jeans and underwear, then straddle him again. “What’s to get?” I ask, kissing the clammy skin on his neck and chest.
He lifts his head, and in one sweeping movement, I’m on my back on the couch, and he’s hovering over me.
“My turn?” I ask with a smirk.
He smiles back, his eyes completely blissed out, sweat beading across his forehead. “Yeah, it’s your turn.”