Chapter 1 #2
Although his relationship wasn’t the happiest at the moment, loyalty was his middle name.
He would never intentionally hurt his partner like that.
Besides, he loved him. They had been arguing almost daily for a few months because Paul was ready to take the next step and Jared didn’t feel like it was the right time.
They had barely settled into their new jobs after moving to the capital.
But that wasn’t reason enough to start acting like a dickhead.
After washing his hands and splashing some water on his face, Jared walked out of the bathroom.
“Here.” Dylan offered another beer when he sat on one of the stools in the open-space kitchen.
It was pretty stylish, with light wooden floors, high ceilings, white countertops over black cabinets, and exposed brick walls—not the red ones, more of a sand, neutral tone.
But maybe Jared was the only one who found it fancy, because he lived in an old converted house with four other people, including his boyfriend, and couldn’t see this happening for him.
Although both Dylan and Jared were gameplay programmers and made decent money, London was expensive as fuck. Jared was surprised his friend could afford a place like this by himself, especially since it was downtown.
“Thanks.”
“Food will be here in twenty,” he said while checking something on his phone, ass resting on the counter of the breakfast bar.
“Cool,” Jared answered mindlessly, rotating the small ring in his ear.
Dylan chuckled.
Jared narrowed his gaze at him. “What?”
“Nothing. It’s just funny how you are when you’ve got a controller in your hand.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure.” Dylan snickered. “By the way, did you listen to the FKJ guy I sent you today?”
“I was listening to it practically all day. Dude’s awesome.”
“Right?” Dylan’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, like every time he talked about something he was passionate about.
Jared smiled. This man was like a grab bag of quirks and contradictions.
Dylan was your typical bad boy, with dark hair and captivating blue irises. He was also a magnet for trouble, considering the number of adventures and misadventures he had shared. Jared didn’t know how he wasn’t already locked up in some dingy sitcom jail.
But he was much more.
Beneath his tough appearance lurked a nerdy geek with a passion for aircraft and video games, whose love for trap music was almost religious fervor.
Though, he could listen to anything and appreciate its beauty.
Just like with the French multi-instrumentalist guy he’d sent Jared that morning while they were working—electronic, with some jazzy vibes, rhythm and blues. .. all super atmospheric.
For Jared, who had been playing guitar and piano since the tender age of ten, having someone in his life who could look past stereotypes and love music for what it was, felt like stepping into a different dimension.
“The saxo thrown in the mix is great,” he said, trying to get his head out of his ass. “So relaxing.”
“Told ya.” Dylan grinned. “It’s the best type of music to put on when you have people over. Like, any other genre usually gets so loud everyone ends up yelling. Not with this. Besides, it’s even better knowing he plays all the instruments himself, even when performing live. Such a damn trip.”
“Agreed.”
“Talking about trips,” Dylan started, and Jared couldn’t hold back a grin. “You’re leaving tomorrow, right?”
“Nice segue. And yup. I’m going to my parent’s the entire week. Which is why I shouldn’t drink too much today. Driving five hours hungover wouldn’t be fun.”
“I get that.” Dylan laughed. “The older I get, the worse I handle my alcohol. I’ve turned into a little bitch.”
“You’ve turned into?” Jared quipped.
“Fuck you.”
Jumping from one topic to another, they hung out in the kitchen until their food arrived, the conversation still flowing as they migrated to the living room.
Dylan did most of the talking, but Jared didn’t mind it.
It was refreshing seeing this side of him.
Besides, he wasn’t exactly a Chatty Cathy himself, even when he was among his closest friends.
That was why it was so easy with this man.
He could just be there, enjoy the good company, laugh at his shenanigans, and drink without forcing something that felt unnatural to him.
“I shouldn’t have eaten so much,” Dylan said, leaning back into the couch.
“Feeling sick?” Jared asked as he mimicked his position.
“Kinda. I crossed the line between satisfaction and pain a while ago, but this shit is just too good to let it go to waste.”
“You could have eaten it tomorrow, you know.”
“Chinese food the next day, unless you’re hungover as fuck or still drunk, is crap.”
“This coming from the man who says he’s not picky with food.” Jared snorted.
“I’m not picky. I’m gourmet.”
“Gourmet, my ass.”
“It sure is. Finest ass on earth.” Dylan’s hooded eyes pinned him on the spot.
Fuck me.
This was definitely just prime mockery. It had to be. There was no way Dylan had checked him out like that. Right?
His stomach flip-flopped.
“I always knew you had good taste.” Jared played along as his entire body buzzed. The idea of this man finding him hot made him all giddy and flustered. Embarrassingly so.
Dylan lazily took a swig of his beer, crinkling his nose as he did. “Ugh. I’m gonna throw this away,” he said, getting up swiftly. “It already tastes like donkey piss. I’ll grab you another one while I’m up.”
As he walked away, Jared’s dick decided not to cooperate with his conscience and morality.
Dylan was a stunning, ink-covered masterpiece.
It was a discreet kind of sexy, though. Aside from the sleeve tattoo on his right leg and chest, which weren’t normally on full display, the rest were mostly scattered designs.
Tilting his head, Jared blatantly ogled the smooth lines of Dylan’s body.
It was such a cliché, but those grey gym shorts, riding low enough for the waistband of his boxers to peek above them, made his ass look incredible.
However, if he had to choose his favourite of Dylan’s outfits, it would unquestionably be those ridiculously tight jeans and biker jacket.
Jared’s heart went straight into a cha-cha-cha whenever he saw him in that.
As he snapped out of this appreciation session and his brain synapses registered what he was doing, Jared smacked himself and dragged his gaze over to the TV. A horror movie was playing, one Dylan had reluctantly agreed to because it was Jared’s fave.
Sighing, he let his body sink deeper into the couch.
He hated this—the sensation of disloyalty to his boyfriend, being in a relationship and feeling lonelier than when he was single, being lost at twenty-five when, a few months before, he thought he had everything he needed to be happy.
The alcohol pushing him to the edge of not giving a fuck about good and evil.
Where did it all go wrong?
Dylan heaved out a sigh beside him when he plopped back onto the couch.
“What’s that?” Jared pointed at the glass in his hand.
“Water?”
“Duh. I mean, why are you drinking water when you just handed me another beer?”
“Like I said before, I’m a little bitch.” Dylan chuckled, exhaustion clear in his tone. “I’m still trying to recover from the time I went out to my friend’s bachelor party… a fucking month ago.”
Jared cackled. “You’re so dramatic.”
“I’m not. I’m too old for that shit.”
“Mate, you’re like, what, eight years older than me?”
Dylan gave him a bombastic side-eye. “Twelve.”
“Oh, no! Excuse me, sir.” Jared rolled his eyes and scoffed. “That’s not old.”
“It is. You’ll see when you get there. Besides, I get extra clingy when I’m wasted, and you don’t wanna deal with that.”
“Aww…”
“Don’t mock me, you asshole. I get all needy and touchy, want to hug and be hugged like a damn baby koala.”
“Want me to teach you how Tinder works, old man?”
Dylan flipped him the middle finger, grinning like a tired idiot. “I’m perfectly fine by myself. But fuck, I miss having someone to cuddle with at night, especially when I’m like that.”
“I could always be your big spoon so you don’t feel so lonely…” Jared smirked, patting Dylan’s leg.
He had intended that as a joke, really.
They were just teasing each other, but then the tapping motion unconsciously turned into a caress. Slow and gentle.
Dylan didn’t stop him, actually challenged him with a smirk and a raised brow. Jared had dreamed about touching him more times than he cared to admit. Even though he was in love with Paul, his common sense had gone rogue ever since he had met Dylan.
Dylan’s hooded gaze cruised to Jared’s hand sensually inching up his thigh, to his lips, only to return to his eyes filled with voracity.
The world stilled. Time froze. And there, in a room that seemed to shrink down with every breath he took, the voices of the TV muffled, and his heart rate skyrocketed.
“Fuck it,” Dylan rasped.
He crashed their lips together. It was hectic, almost violent... as if Dylan had been wandering in the desert and Jared was the oasis he’d been daydreaming about for months.
A palm touched Jared’s cheek and languidly moved down, sending signals so opposed to the savagery of the kiss, he couldn’t move.
Didn’t even know whether this was real or not.
Not until Dylan pinned Jared in place, forcefully grabbing his jaw.
And then, without asking for permission, his tongue invaded Jared’s mouth.
Guilt and pleasure battled for dominance, scratching at his sense of decency. But instead of pushing him away, Jared surrendered to the sudden shift in energy.
Dylan didn’t let him lead, but he wasn’t forcing anything either.
He was just rolling with it, pulling Jared underwater, leaving him breathless with every exploratory flick of his tongue.
It was so gentle yet so demanding… Every cell in Jared’s body converged into a mass of throbbing need at the head of his swollen cock.
He was officially and royally screwed.
Aching to feel him closer, Jared fisted the waistband of Dylan’s sweats while deepening the kiss. He didn’t need to do anything else, Dylan read his intentions and straddled his lap.
The couch squeaked under them as they ravished each other’s mouths, uneven breaths filling the air. Dylan moved back and forth, grinding on Jared with such precision he couldn’t hold back the moan that vibrated in his throat.
Dizzy and completely drowned in this sinful haze, they started touching each other everywhere.
Memorizing every ridge and valley of Dylan’s ridiculously taut body, Jared allowed himself to sink further into this overwhelming wave of desire.
Hot. Soft. Hard. This man was so intoxicating that the idea of pulling himself away physically hurt.
Not that Dylan seemed willing to let him go anywhere, his hands selfishly grabbing both sides of Jared’s neck told him as much.
And honestly, he was more than fine with it.
The attraction Jared felt for his coworker was beyond anything he’d known before.
It was something feral, so strong there was no way he could control it.
He wanted to own his body, to breach him and feel his ass clenching as he thrust his dick into him.
The only thing that had kept Jared in check all this time was that he didn’t know Dylan was into men and—
Fuck.
Frowning, wanting to cry, Jared placed both palms on Dylan’s chest, adding enough pressure for him to get the message. They had to stop.
“What’s wrong?” Dylan asked, voice hoarse, dripping with annoyance and greed.
“I can’t do this.” Jared looked down, a pang of pain in his heart when he saw the head of Dylan’s dick peeking above his boxers, leaking with pre-cum. He wanted him, craved him. But this was a line he wouldn’t cross, no matter how aroused he was. “I’m in a relationship...”
Dylan cleared his throat, reluctantly moving back to where he’d been sitting before.
“Right. Sorry,” he said, a small grunt leaving his lips when he tucked his cock away. He kept his hand there for a few seconds, looking everywhere but at Jared, aching with need.
Leaning forward, elbows propped on his knees, Jared hid his face in his palms and let out a huff. Disappointed in himself, he was now feeling conflicted and remorseful. It was as if his soul, mind, and body were being ripped apart.
“I shouldn’t…” He didn’t know how to finish that sentence. “If I wasn’t with…” He could feel his eyes watering when he looked back at Dylan. Guilt was such a bitch.
“Yeah…” He nodded, looking up at the ceiling, head resting on the back of the couch.
Silence crawled between them, forcing a crack in the foundation of their friendship like Jared had never imagined.
The air went cold, and so did his blood. He had no idea if this was just temporary fun for Dylan, something that had happened because the alcohol in their veins had killed their inhibitions, or if it meant something else. Had he hurt just his ego or also his feelings?
“I…” Jared started.
“I think you should leave.”
“Yeah.”
Dylan heaved out a sigh and got up. “But you’ve had too much to drink.” He crouched next to the sofa, rummaging inside a basket on the floor before turning to face Jared again, handing him some bedding.
Jared looked at him, confused.
“You’re not driving anywhere in this state.” Dylan gestured to the couch with his palm up, features devoid of emotions. No anger. No heartache. Just plain and utter indifference. “Sleep it off here. You can leave in the morning.”
Jared’s heart twisted, but he didn’t add a single word, simply nodding in understanding.
“Night,” Dylan tossed before locking himself in his bedroom, leaving Jared alone with his thoughts and the guilt eating him from within.