Chapter 12 #4
“The lube. I want it,” Jasper said. His hand slipped below his cock to cup his balls. He arched off the couch, partly for show. Just like the lube—he didn’t need it, but he wanted to see how far he could push Ryan. “It’s in the bathroom drawer.”
To his surprise, Ryan stood immediately. He was back seconds later, dropping the lube next to Jasper, adjusting himself but saying nothing.
“Stop touching yourself,” Jasper said as he drizzled lube directly on his cock. He moaned as his hand wrapped around himself again. “Yeah, that’s so much better.”
At that point, Jasper couldn’t have stopped even if he’d wanted to.
Which he didn’t. He needed to come to give himself relief from going on an hour and a half of desperate arousal.
But more than that, he wanted to come right there on the couch, with this audience of the person who’d started this whole thing.
Ryan deserved that. And Jasper deserved this.
He poured more lube in his other hand, rubbing his fingertips together to spread it around.
His hand slid down to circle his hole, and Jasper got one final look at Ryan, his eyes glassy and his jaw slack.
He smiled when an involuntary, broken moan came out of Ryan after the tip of Jasper’s finger pressed inside.
Jasper leaned his head back and closed his eyes, letting himself imagine the obscene bulge on Ryan, times they’d been together, and even Ryan’s hand on him earlier on the deck.
It was enough to set him over the edge. Cum shot over his chest and fist, pooling in his belly button, spilling down the sides of his stomach from his ragged breaths.
As his own breathing slowed, the room grew quiet enough that he could hear Ryan breathing heavily across from him.
“Are you proud of yourself?” Ryan asked.
Jasper grinned with his eyes still closed. "Kind of."
They were both quiet then. The adrenaline burned off slowly, leaving behind regret.
Jasper heard Ryan get off the couch and close himself in the bathroom, the pinky-yellow light under the door turning the hallway a color he hadn’t seen since Ryan left all those weeks ago.
He sighed and rubbed a hand down his face, sticky with lube.
Jasper’s voice cut through the quiet. "Ryan.”
Ryan opened the door and looked towards the couch. Jasper was still sprawled naked on the couch with cum cooling on his stomach. His gaze dropped to Ryan’s pants.
“What?”
"Come here," Jasper said, voice low. "Sit back down."
Ryan hesitated, then obeyed, dropping onto the couch again.
His breathing was uneven, from arousal or frustration.
Maybe both. Jasper shifted, placing his foot directly against the hard line of Ryan’s cock through the fabric, gently at first. But then he pressed down firmly, dragging the sole upward in a slow, deliberate stroke.
Ryan’s hips pressed forward. A broken sound escaped him.
Jasper kept his foot moving—pressing and rubbing along the length trapped in Ryan’s pants. He could feel the heat, the twitch, the way Ryan’s cock throbbed under the pressure. Jasper’s toes rubbed against the head, working him steadily until Ryan finally made another noise.
"Fuck," Ryan gasped. His hands gripped the couch cushions. His thighs tensed. Jasper didn’t stop. He rolled his foot in small circles, then slid it up and down again, faster now, using the arch to stroke the full length, letting his toes drag over the tip.
Louder, more desperate moans were leaving Ryan then, fully handing himself over to Jasper’s whims. His hips bucked up to meet each press of Jasper’s foot. Jasper watched his face—jaw slack, eyes glassy—exactly like earlier. He pressed harder until Ryan’s whole body went rigid.
Ryan came with a choked groan, his cock pulsing inside his pants. Jasper felt heat soaking through the fabric against his foot and kept rubbing, milking every drop until Ryan slumped back, panting, the front of his pants visibly wet.
Jasper finally pulled his foot away, leaving a glistening smear on the dark material. Ryan sat there, arm draped over his face, shaky breaths becoming more even as cum seeped through his clothing.
Jasper stood and went to his bedroom, grabbing clean clothes. On the way back to the living room, he found Ryan in the bathroom, washing himself.
“Here you go,” Jasper said. “You left these here.”
Ryan grabbed the pants and nodded, eyes never leaving Jasper’s. “Thank you.”
“Are you staying? I think you should, from the whiskey.”
“Yeah, I’ll—”
“On the couch,” Jasper added. “I’ll bring you a blanket and stuff.”
“Oh. Yeah, okay.”
Jasper went to the linen closet and hid behind the door, pretending to search for bedding while waiting for Ryan to be done in the bathroom. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do now.
The fight didn’t pan out. He still missed Ryan.
Lashing out by not letting Ryan come didn’t pan out. He gave in, and he’d be thinking about this night for months.
The only thing that changed was the depth of his confusion—which had somehow only grown.
“I’ll be out of your hair in the morning,” Ryan said when Jasper returned to the living room. “I just need to sleep off those drinks.”
Jasper nodded. That was what he wanted. He was pretty sure.