2. Jon
CHAPTER 2
JON
Bright morning light pulses against my eyelids, waking a dull throbbing in my head. I squeeze my eyes tighter and bury my head in the soft body I'm curled around. With a deep huff of contentment, I pull the warm body tighter against me, nuzzling my nose into hair and inhaling the scent of soap, something sweet like vanilla, and the faint tinge of bleach.
A soft moan has me moving my lips along soft skin, rolling my hips into a mound of flesh that pushes back against me but is frustratingly on the wrong side of the covers. I groan and roll my hips again, my hand pushing under soft cotton to smooth along lean abs and up a firm chest.
My hand freezes and my eyes fly open. I blink several times as the form next to me comes into focus. A very masculine form.
Pulling my hand back with a soft gasp, I accidentally wake the guy sleeping in my bed. He wakes with a start and scrambles away, almost falling off the opposite side of the bed.
I can't help but laugh as flashes of memory start to come back to me in my sleepy state. I was a little out of it last night, but I was in control of my faculties and perfectly aware of everything. Except how I ended up in bed with him. That part I definitely don’t remember.
"Shane?" I say, my voice gravelly with sleep and a sore throat.
"Uh, yeah. Hi," he says awkwardly, pulling a pillow in front of him as he stands and backs as far away as he can before he hits my closet door.
"You okay?" I ask.
His dark green eyes blink and dart around the room before settling back on me. A flash of those same eyes looking at me from down on his knees has a grin spreading across my face.As confused as I’d been by my reaction to him in the ER, I was clear minded enough to know I wanted to get to know him better. I don’t hate this unexpected development of waking up with him in my bed.
"I-I didn't mean to fall asleep," he says, swallowing deeply. My eyes track the movement of his Adam's apple, and I lick my dry lips. "I came to check on you, and you sort of pulled me down and then started snoring. I was basically your unwitting teddy bear all night." He chuckles uncomfortably. "I thought eventually I'd be able to slip out, but I was running on fumes already. I'm really sorry," he says, looking down. He seems to realize that he's holding one of my pillows and quickly tosses it back before smoothing down his rumpled black scrubs and inching towards the door.
"You stayed to take care of me." It's a statement more than a question. As groggy as I am, I remember everything up until he tucked me into bed last night. The dull throbbing in my head reminds me just how badly it was hurting last night, and how I'd gotten so dizzy that I puked in my kitchen sink. Gross.
I groan. “You stayed to take care of me, and I thanked you by holding you hostage and feeling you up. I’m the one that should be sorry.”
Emphasis on should be.
Hell, if the blanket hadn't been between us, I might have dry humped him until we both woke up screaming. And while I was certainly surprised to find a man in my bed this morning, the realization has done nothing to dampen the morning wood threatening to burrow a hole in my comforter.
Shane clears his throat. "How are you feeling this morning?"
It takes me several moments to register his question. I shake myself out of the gutter. "Uh, fine. I'm fine. Good."
There's definitely a dull ache behind my eyes, but I’ve felt worse after a late night of drinking.
A flash of his smile from last night after he'd made me laugh. Another flash of him on his knees and the way it made my body react. How achingly hard I'd been, so much so that pulling my underwear up over my boner was embarrassingly difficult. All the thoughts that had crowded my mind all night as I watched him talk start seeping back in.
The way he took care of me,especially knowing that I know his dickbag ex. I'm surprised he didn't run for the hills.
"I have a weakness for assholes with thick thighs and thicker brains."
I wish I could go back to waking up, and control my surprise so I could hold him for even a minute longer. I just want to feel him in my arms again, to make sure I was feeling what I thought I was feeling.
Shane suddenly appears in front of me, looking concerned.
"Is your vision blurry at all? Any headache?"
"Wh-What? No, I'm fine."
"Uh-huh, that’s the third time you’ve used that word. But then your eyes went all unfocused. Can you follow my finger?" I watch his finger move back and forth and up and down. Then I cross my eyes, stick out my tongue, pat my head and rub my belly just for effect.
He steps away from me with an amused roll of his eyes. "Alright, alright. But maybe you should get checked out again just to be sure.”
“I don’t need to get checked out again. I promise I’m… fine ,” I say, unable to think of another word. “I was just lost in thought.”
“Forgive me if I don’t believe you after you lied about having a roommate last night.”
I shrug, because I don't really have a good defense for it. "I didn't want you to worry."
"If you're not going to tell me the truth, how do I know you're going to be alright?"
"I guess you'll just have to stick around and take care of me some more," I joke. It gets a laugh out of him, at least. I hold his gaze seriously. "I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself."
The truth is, I don't have many friends and all of my family lives on the other side of the country. I've got my teammates, sure, but a lot of them are douchebags. Especially Eric, who I never liked. I used to watch with envy at the way Shane would show up to practices and games, but Eric would bitch about him being clingy. He probably would have enjoyed Shane's company more if he weren't fucking around on the side. I think he knows I’m the one who surreptitiously tipped Shane off that he was cheating after I watched him disappear into the bathroom with a random woman he’d been making eyes at.
"Well, if you get dizzy or throw up anymore, get a ride back to the hospital or see your primary care physician. Okay?"
"Are you leaving?"
He nervously runs a hand through his hair. "Uh, yeah. It's my only day off."
"Big plans?"
"If lounging around in my underwear watching shitty TV and eating an entire lasagna by myself is considered big plans, then yes."
"Damn. Want company?" I ask, laughing. I don't know why, but I want to spend more time with him. He intrigues me and makes my insides feel fluttery.
Shane's lips twist into a smile, and his eyes sparkle. He clearly thinks I'm kidding, and I don't want to look more pathetic than I already do, so I let it go.
"I'm just going to use your restroom, and then I'll be on my way. But I'll leave my phone number, in case you need… anything." He trails off and averts his eyes again.
I find it weirdly endearing that he can barely look me in the eye when he isn't in nurse mode, but then my forehead creases, and I worry that it's because I made him uncomfortable. Nodding, I sit back against the pillows. I should let him go. I've kept him long enough.
He's in the bathroom for a few minutes, and then I hear him shuffling through my apartment. He pokes his head in the door before he leaves.
"I left my phone number on the fridge."
"Okay. Um, let me walk you out."
I move too quickly to get out of bed, and nearly trip over my own feet. Shane's eyes widen and he pushes back into the room to help me again, but I hold up my hand.
"I'm fine. I promise. I just… tripped. I pulled my hamstring a little at the game yesterday when I got hit, and it’s sore, but I'm good." Ugh. Now I’m just over-explaining and making it worse. Quit talking, Jon!
I straighten and walk him toward the door. He eyes me with concern and turns back to face me before I can turn the deadbolt. He opens his mouth to say something and then looks down at me. Both of us seem to realize my state of undress at the same time. I'm still only wearing boxer briefs. My cock twitches.
Down boy!
Shane averts his eyes and his cheeks turn pink in a way that makes me way too invested in this entire interaction. I don't want him to leave. Maybe ever.
"Are you sure you're going to be okay?"
I want to tell him no, that I need him to stay and take care of me some more. To just be here and talk to me, because I genuinely enjoy his company. Because he intrigues me and makes me feel warm and gooey inside. And hard on the outside.
Instead, I nod and open the door for him. "Thanks for everything, Shane."
"My pleasure. Just, uh, call me. If you need anything."
I close the door behind him, regretting everything the moment he's gone. All of a sudden, my apartment feels too big, too empty, too cold. I don't know Shane very well, but something about him makes everything… better . And after spending a night with him, even if it's a night I can barely remember, everything feels that much emptier without him.
A bright yellow pair of rubber gloves catches my attention, and I walk into the kitchen. It’s gleaming and smells strongly of bleach.
He cleaned my kitchen?
He drove me home after working overtime, hauled my heavy ass up the stairs in the rain, took care of my sloppy ass after I made it weird, and then cleaned up after me.
Who does that?
My eyes dart to the small marker board on the fridge, at his bubbly handwriting and the little smiley face he drew beneath his name and phone number.
It takes me too long to track down my phone, lying face down under the stack of discharge papers I was sent home with last night. There’s a bottle of acetaminophen sitting on the counter next to the papers, and I bark out a loud laugh. There’s a sticky note on the bottle with the words "boner pills". I laugh out loud and unlock my phone.
JON: Boner pills? Really?
I'm surprised when he answers me back almost immediately.
SHANE: I hoped you'd get a laugh out of it.
I type another message. Then delete it. Then type out another one. Then delete it again.
I don't know what I want to say to him. How can I properly thank him for everything he did for me, without making things too awkward or coming off like a pathetic waste of space?
SHANE: By the way, if you need a good massage therapist, I know a guy.
JON: Is it you?
I cringe as soon as I hit send. That was probably way inappropriate and going way too far.
SHANE: Don't tell me you're already dipping into the pills.
JON: I was hurting.
My phone rings, and I nearly launch it across the room.
"H-Hello?" I stutter into the phone. I pull it back to see the caller ID. "Shane?"
"If you're hurting, you can take the acetaminophen every four to six hours. Typical concussion protocol doesn’t recommend NSAIDs like ibuprofen, but?—"
I cut him off. “Shane. I was kidding. I thought we were giving me an excuse to make horny jokes."
Shane chokes out an awkward laugh. "Oh. Jesus. Sorry. Well, uh—bye then?"
A bark of laughter booms out of me. He doesn’t hang up right away, so I blurt out the first thing I can think of to keep him on the line.
"You're going to have to lighten up if we're going to do this thing."
"What thing?"
A nervous huff of air leaves me, and I bite my lip, thinking of a clever way to let him know I'm interested.
"The thing where you come back here to watch shitty TV and eat lasagna with me."
I leave out the underwear bit, even though it's my favorite part, because I don't want to scare him away. My intentions are honorable. Not that I wouldn't mind seeing him in his underwear, but honestly, sex isn't even part of my thought process right now. I just want to see him again, get to know him. And after only five minutes of being alone in my apartment, I want him back.
He's quiet for a long time. Long enough that I start thinking about how to get myself out of the awkward situation I've put myself in.Do I apologize for being so forward, or do I make a joke and backtrack?
"I need to go home and shower," he says quietly, his voice sounding unsure about what decision he should make. I jump on the opportunity.
"You're still here?"
"My car is still defrosting."
Thank fuck for a cold start to spring. I can hear how tired he is, though, and I wonder if I should give him a break.
"If you go home, you might not leave. Come back up here and let me take care of you for a little while."
"How exactly are you going to manage that?"
"I guess you’ll have to come up here and find out."
The longer the silence stretches out between us, the more worried I get that he's not going to take me up on the offer. More than worried, I feel almost panicked about it. Like this will be my only chance to get to know him.
I move over to my small balcony. From the far end, I can see most of the parking lot, including where the roller skate Shane calls a car is still parked. The windshield is completely defrosted.
A smile spreads across my lips. He wants to come up here, but is trying to think of reasons not to.
"Either you come up here, or my dumbass is going to have to walk down all those stairs to get you."
"I need a shower."
"I have one of those."
"I'd like to wear something other than scrubs, and that's all I have to change into."
"I'm sure we can find you something."
The line goes silent just as he climbs out of the car. He grabs a bag from his backseat and stares up at my apartment building for a minute before he starts toward the stairs. I grin, and then panic again, figuring I have maybe two minutes before he makes it up to my door. I run to the bathroom and brush my teeth as quickly as possible, and splash my face with water before running back to the front door. I open it just as he's rounding the corner, leaning casually against the doorframe.
The way he smirks when he sees me makes me forget to back up and let him in, and he has to move in close to get by me. His proximity makes me highly aware that I still haven't gotten dressed. I smirk back and try to play it off like my state of undress is intentional.
"You said we were watching shitty TV in our underwear," I say as I close the door behind him.
"And eating lasagna. That part is important."
"Yes, and lasagna," I laugh.
After showing him where the towels are, and giving him a stack of some of my smaller clothes to wear if he wants, I stand for a moment outside the door and listen to the shower run. It's not until my stomach growls that I remember what I'm supposed to be doing. It just so happens that my mom visited last week and left me with a freezer full of food, like she always does. And there happens to be a lasagna large enough to feed a small family in there. If my shining personality and witaren’t enough to hook him, my mama's cooking will. And I'm not above using it as a weapon against him. I know my way around a kitchen, but no one beats Johanna Wilton's cooking.
After popping the lasagna in the oven, I start a pot of coffee and then head into my bedroom to change. I briefly consider jerking off, only because I think maybe I could act like a halfway normal person if I wasn't walking around with a half chub. But then the shower cuts off and I think better of it. Getting caught with my dick in my hand is absolutely not going to make Shane feel more comfortable around me. I need to be doing whatever I can to make sure he doesn't think I'm a creep. With that in mind, I pull on a pair of sweatpants.
I'm in the kitchen pouring myself a cup of coffee when he comes out.
He clears his throat. My head snaps up to find him leaning on the other side of the kitchen island, wearing only a pair of tight, dark red boxer briefs. I do a double take before drinking him in. He has a much smaller frame than I do, but his body is lean and fit. He doesn't have large muscles or cut abs, but he's well defined from his pecs down to his flat stomach. There's a dark line of hair running from below his belly button down into the tight red briefs that I have a sudden urge to rub my face against.
I swallow thickly before meeting his eyes again.
"And here I thought you were really into the underwear thing for some reason." His tone suggests sarcasm and humor, but there are obvious underlying nerves there that I want to dispel immediately.
Without another thought, I swiftly drop my sweatpants to the floor and step out of them. My abs clench as his eyes roam over my body. I work out a lot, and I've never had any confidence issues when it comes to my body. But for some reason, I'm desperate for him to like what he sees. I'm also desperate for my dick to stop filling with all the blood that feels as if it’s draining from my head, because I don't want to scare him off by getting another boner.
Shane drops his eyes to where the front of my briefs is starting to tent and then drags them back up my body. He smirks. "Pills setting in?"
I swallow the saliva pooling in my mouth and shake my head. "No pills. High on life."
He chuckles and then cocks his head.
"Jon?"
"Yes, Shane?" I say, mimicking his serious tone.
"Are you straight?"
Despite how it might look right now, and the thoughts that have been running rampant in my brain since seeing him yesterday, I'm not. I've been curious about other guys before, but I've never acted on it. Truthfully, I've been curious about him before. But he was unattainable, and practically a stranger, at that.
I shake my head.
"Are you bi or pan?"
Rolling my lips in, I give him the most honest non-answer I can give him. I shrug. Because I don't know what I am.
"Have you ever been with a man, or fooled around with another guy?"
I don't want to answer, because I'm afraid it might turn him off. Not that he's necessarily interested in whatever it is I have to offer, other than I suppose being his general type. But I don’t want to lie to him again. Not about this.
"Never wanted to before," I say, my voice raspy with nerves. God, I sound pathetic. "Not until I saw you."
"Are you still loopy?" he asks with a chuckle.
"No, but also… I saw you way before yesterday." I cringe. "That sounds creepy. I just meant that I remember you from when you were dating Eric. I noticed you then. I remember thinking you deserved better."
There's an unreadable expression on Shane's face as he steps forward. "And you think you can do better?"
"It's a low bar," I say, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “But I think I meet the rest of your criteria?”
Shane steps into my space and places a hand on the center of my chest. He stares at his hand splayed across my skin. His fingers flex, and mine copy the movement at my sides. I’m aching to touch him the way he’s touching me. He moves his hand across my chest, up to my neck, then down the back of my shoulder and around again. Then he trails his fingers down my abs to the waistband of my underwear and my body jerks involuntarily as I clench everything to keep from coming. I don't think I've ever been this keyed up in my life, and the last time I came in my pants, I had braces and there was a whole lot of friction involved.
Shane barely touched me, and I'm having to breathe through my nose to hold myself back.
Fuck, what would it be like if he touched my cock? If he let me touch him?
That thought alone is enough to make me so hard my stomach hurts.
My eyes drop between us, and I see that he isn't unaffectedby me, either. That’s reassuring. I mean, I thought I felt something between us, but it would be pretty douchey of me to assume he’s into me just because he’s gay and I fit a general description of his physical type.
His skin is warm and soft beneath my skin when I place my hands on either side of his waist and draw him in closer. I run my thumbs up and down his sides, fascinated by the way his skin lights up with pink splotches and goosebumps.
“Will you tell me how?” His eyes meet mine curiously. “How to touch you, I mean. Tell me what to do?”
His bottom lip disappears between his teeth, and all I can think is that I want to taste that pillowy flesh.
“How about I show you?”
My heart skips a beat and I forget to breathe when Shane lowers himself to his knees. He looks up at me the same way he did yesterday, except this time I don’t have to imagine the heat and want in his dark green eyes. His lips quirk in a barely-there smile, his gaze never leaving mine as he reaches for my waistband. Slowly, he pulls my underwear down my thighs. Once freed, my erection bobs out so enthusiastically that it almost hits my stomach.
Shane’s eyes widen. “Ugh, of course you have a perfect cock.”
I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not, but I can’t be bothered to think past the fact that this is happening. The anticipation of being touched by him builds as Shane lightly drags his fingers up the insides of my thighs and around to my ass. I groan when they faintly trace over my balls, and my cock twitches. Wetness seeps from my slit.
Shane’s hand wraps around the base of my cock and I grunt loudly, nearly bending in half at the jolt of sensation that shoots through me. I’m not prepared when his tongue swirls through the pre-cum building on my crown, and I have to reach down and harshly pinch the head of my cock to keep from prematurely rocketing off in Shane’s face.
Shane says nothing and holds still while I gain my composure. I open one tightly clenched eyelid to find him watching me. His dark eyes are twinkling with the realization of just how much he is affecting me.
“Ready?”
I shake my head no, because just the husky tone of his voice has my balls drawing up. There’s no doubt in my mind that I’m about to embarrass myself.
“It’s okay to come, Jon. I want it. Feed it to me.”
Fuck.
Shane leans forward and licks over my tip, twisting his tongue around my fingers that are still holding onto my cock. He pushes my fingers back with his lips as they slowly engulf the head of my cock.
I moan loudly when he sucks hard, almost painfully ripping a small spurt of pre-cum from my cock. His answering moan sends vibration up my balls and into the small of my back, where I can feel the tingle of an orgasm building already.
Breathing slowly, I grip the edge of the counter behind me, white knuckling my control as Shane slowly sinks onto my cock inch by inch. The head of my cock touches the soft palate at the back of his throat, and keeps going. He takes me all the way back without gagging, something I’ve never experienced before, and then he swallows. Fucking swallows. His throat contracts around my head, and I swear my knees start shaking.
“Shane,” I warn him, because I can’t hold this off much longer.
He pulls back, hollowing out his cheeks and suctioning up to the tip of my cock again. His mouth feels like goddamned divinity, and the sight of him bobbing on my cock would be enough to make me shoot even if I couldn’t feel every nerve in my body firing.
I widen my stance to keep from falling over, and Shane takes it as an invitation to cup my balls. I rock my hips into the sensation as he spreads the saliva and pre-cum dripping from the sides of his stretched mouth behind my balls.
My body tenses instinctively, and Shane stops. He pulls off my cock and looks up at me with earnestness.
“Is this okay? You can say no,” he assures me breathlessly.
With my heart beating overtime, I widen my stance a little more and roll my hips into Shane’s fist. I’m not entirely sure what I’m asking for, but I have a feeling whatever it is will be good.
He doesn’t take his eyes off me as he puts his middle finger into his mouth and rolls his tongue around it. I watch with rapt attention, all too aware of what that exact motion feels like on my cock.
Shane takes me in his mouth again, and with one hand on my ass, encourages me to move. I thrust tentatively at first, but the more he moans and pulls me into his throat, the more I let go. It feels so fucking good; I don’t even break my rhythm when I feel his finger rubbing against my hole. If anything, it encourages me to thrust harder. And he takes it.
I’m looking down into his deep green eyes, marveling at the sight of his lips stretched around me as he takes my cock deep and hard the way no one has before. Tears are streaming from his eyes, and a couple of times he makes a sound that is half moan and half gag. It’s driving me wild.
“Fucking hell, Shane. It’s so good. You’re so good, I’ve never had it like this.” I’m absolutely rambling, peppering incoherent sounds and moans between words.
When Shane’s finger sinks inside my ass, the added pressure and foreign stretch make me gasp.
“Oh, fuck! Shane,” I cry out.
His finger presses against some magic button inside me, and I lose it. I shout his name over and over as my cock pulses into the back of his throat. He takes it all, gulping me down, simultaneously milking me with his finger, his tight fist pumping the base of my cock, and the suction of his mouth.
I come so hard my vision darkens at the edges. I sway a little, and Shane releases my cock with a wet popping sound to rush to his feet and steady me. There’s nothing wrong with me other than the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had, but I take the opportunity of having him so close to pull him in and crash my mouth to his.
Our tongues brush against each other, and he feeds me the taste of my own release. The salty flavor of my own cum makes me desperate to taste him.
Leaving my underwear on the ground in the kitchen, I lift Shane into my arms, encouraging him to wrap his legs around my waist. His hard cock digs into my stomach, and it spurs me on. Without removing my mouth from his, I walk us through my apartment and to my bedroom.
With Shane’s legs wrapped tightly around me, I crawl onto the bed and gently drop us down, covering his body with mine. My cock makes a valiant attempt to twitch back to life as I grind myself against Shane’s hardness. He groans against me and writhes against my thigh. I have half a mind to dry hump him until he begs, but I’m too desperate to taste him, to give him the pleasure he gave me.
He said that he was going to show me how he likes to be touched, so I’m assuming that means everything he did to me is something he enjoys.
“I want to make you feel as good as you made me,” I murmur against his neck as I kiss a path away from his mouth. “I want to make it so good for you, baby.”