Chapter Nineteen #2
Frustration swallowed the dozen replies that got tangled in Vincent’s throat. Instead of trying to voice any of them, he forced in a breath until his lungs ached, then slowly let it back out. “If that’s true,” he finally said, sliding the key into the ignition, “we can talk about it later.”
For now, he needed someplace quiet. When he tugged on the door again, it shut easily, and he didn’t think too much of it until the passenger door opened as he was buckling his seat belt.
Jasper slid into the car, slammed his door shut, buckled in, and sank into his seat without so much as a glance at Vincent. “Go.”
JASPER LINGERED by the front door of Vincent’s house until Vincent disappeared into his bedroom, then released a slow breath.
He’d fully expected to be thrown out of the car and wasn’t even really sure what had made him get in to begin with.
He knew he’d fucked up—had known he was fucking up the moment he decided to avoid Vincent—but the thought of everything crumbling between them because of that?
Fuck no. Like hell he’d let something like irony play a part in their breakup. When Vincent finally dumped him, it would be because Jasper tried to strangle him with his octopus tentacles of clinginess.
He slipped his shoes off and wandered into the living room, immediately turning towards the kitchen when he smelled something cooking. A large pot of soup was keeping warm on the stove. The same chicken noodle soup Vincent had brought him. Because he’d said he was sick.
That more than anything reassured him that what had happened with Matt was a misunderstanding. At worst a terrible accident. The horror on Vincent’s face when Matt had whispered to him was proof of that. Vincent hadn’t hurt him on purpose.
Vincent made Jasper soup because he’d said he was sick. Even Amber had never done more than toss him a sleeve of crackers.
He swallowed against the tightness in his throat and filled a bowl with chicken noodle soup, then sent a quick text to Keith asking him to put the bowl he’d left in his room in the fridge. No sense in letting it go to waste.
He ate two bowls, then settled on the couch to channel surf.
Vincent didn’t make an appearance after an hour, but Jasper waited another forty minutes before giving up and creeping up the stairs.
He poked his head into the bedroom to find Vincent lying on the bed, one hand on his stomach, his other arm thrown over his eyes.
Jasper hesitated after one step into the room.
He knew he had to suck it up and fix things or they’d only get worse, but he wasn’t sure how.
He was relatively confident in his ability to patch a person together well enough to keep them alive if they had a minor stab wound, but relationships required skills he’d never managed to develop.
But he’d try. He could only hope trying would be enough for now.
He inched into the room and onto the bed. When Vincent didn’t tell him to fuck off, he risked pressing closer, resting his head on Vincent’s thigh. “Hey,” he said softly, settling his hand on Vincent’s stomach. “You awake?”
Vincent sighed. “Yeah,” he murmured, his voice rough.
“You okay?”
A longer sigh and a moment of silence. “I don’t know.”
Jasper rubbed his hand back and forth. “Anything I can do?”
Vincent let out a soft hum that wasn’t really an answer.
When nothing else followed, Jasper slid his hand down farther, intent on distracting him with sex, but Vincent caught his hand as soon as he reached for the button of his pants. He winced and pulled his hand away, only for Vincent to tighten his grip and hold it in place.
“Stay.”
Jasper let out an explosive breath and slumped into Vincent’s warmth. If they weren’t having sex, that left talking. He needed to apologize, but the words were stuck somewhere near his gut, and he had to find a way to vomit them out. Two simple words. How could they be so hard?
His fingers twitched in Vincent’s hold, and he closed his eyes, taking a steadying breath. “’M sorry.”
Vincent squeezed his hand. “Sorry for what?”
“For lying.” He swallowed hard in the silence that followed, wondering if he’d gotten it wrong.
“Okay,” Vincent said quietly, his thumb brushing against the back of Jasper’s hand. “Though I’d like to know why you felt the need to lie in the first place.”
Jasper shrugged, pressing his face into Vincent’s stomach. “Matt,” he said, regretting it when Vincent immediately tensed, but he quickly forced the rest of the words out. “He said this would never mean anything to you. That you’d take what you wanted and then leave.”
“And you believed him.”
“I guess,” he said, wincing when Vincent let out another sigh. That one sounded aggravated.
“It’s not like I can blame you,” he said after a moment, and Jasper lifted his head with a frown, not liking the new tone in his voice. It was almost defeated. He didn’t like that Vincent’s arm was still covering his eyes either.
Vincent cleared his throat. “I would understand if you wanted to end the contra—”
“No!” Jasper moved without thinking, dread fluttering in his chest as he straddled Vincent and tugged his arm away from his face. Those gorgeous hazel eyes were wide and red-rimmed as they stared at Jasper.
“I don’t care,” he choked out, his fingers clutching Vincent’s shirt.
“Whatever happened with you and Matt, I don’t care.
It was ages ago, and you’ve never hurt me.
” And Vincent obviously regretted it, or he wouldn’t be up here alone instead of taking advantage of his sub.
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily, asshole. ”
Vincent raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a ghost of a smile. “My mistake.”
Jasper huffed and relaxed, unable to maintain eye contact and focusing on Vincent’s lips instead.
“I really am sorry,” he murmured. “I thought… maybe space would be a good idea.” Especially after Matt so helpfully pointed out he was in love.
Maybe it was lust? Wouldn’t it be better if he was merely obsessed and it faded after exploring a few more kinks?
He blinked at the light touch to his cheek, risking a glance up.
“I forgive you.” Vincent sat up and slid both of his hands into Jasper’s hair, tugging enough to force his head back. “Can you promise not to make this mistake again?” he asked, dragging his lips across Jasper’s exposed throat, which was more than enough to completely distract Jasper.
Why had he thought denying himself this for a weekend was a good idea?
He tilted his head to add some pressure to Vincent’s grip and moaned, twisting his fingers tighter where he had latched on to Vincent’s shirt.
That felt so good. How had he never realized how good a sprinkle of not-quite pain could be?
The intense tingles along his scalp were like their own tiny orgasms.
“Jasper.”
Jasper blinked his eyes open, unsure when he’d even closed them, and managed to focus on Vincent. “Huh?” What was with the exasperated look?
Vincent’s lips twitched. “I asked if you could promise not to do this again.”
Could he promise that? He knew he had a bad habit of getting stuck in his own head, overthinking things, and then making things worse with his decisions. “I can try.”
Apparently that wasn’t good enough. Vincent shifted his grip, considering Jasper as his thumb traced beneath his lower lip. “Can you promise to tell me that you need space rather than making up a lie?”
He swallowed hard, the anxious energy that had started to build up fading at having a clear path to follow. That would be far easier. “Yes,” he whispered. He could do that.
Vincent nodded as if that were settled and returned his lips to Jasper’s neck.
Jasper stared at the ceiling, his stomach a mix of giddy relief at getting through that without making it worse and a niggling worry that it had been too easy or wasn’t enough.
“Shouldn’t I be punished or something?” he whispered, hoping he didn’t end up regretting that when Vincent stilled and pulled back to study him.
“Do you want me to punish or discipline you if you make a mistake?”
No! was his initial reaction, but he wasn’t completely naive when it came to this stuff; he’d done some deeper research the past few weeks.
Besides the draw of being tied up and helpless, he wanted the assurance of being with someone who would tell him when he did something wrong rather than decide he wasn’t worth the trouble anymore. “Yes?”
He shivered as Vincent’s eyes darkened, as if the thought of punishing Jasper was a huge turn-on. Or maybe he was wanting to give that assurance as much as Jasper craved it. His stomach swooped like the ground had disappeared, but somehow he couldn’t imagine regretting this particular decision.
Vincent dragged him in for a kiss, and Jasper moaned at the intensity of it. Every time, Vincent proved to be an amazing kisser, and this one was no different. Vincent kissed him like he wanted to claim Jasper’s very essence with his lips.
That was almost as distracting as his next thought that made him pull back with a grin. “Does this count as makeup sex?”
Vincent laughed and tumbled him to the bed. Once he’d pinned him down, he showed Jasper how absolutely mind-blowing makeup sex could be.