Chapter 6 – Jack
JACK
The drive to Luke's house was short, yet it felt like forever.
Jack followed Luke's taillights through town, his cock still half-hard from that kiss. Snow fell steadily, and the roads were quiet and empty, almost otherworldly to Jack.
His mind raced. This was happening. Actually happening. Luke—golden, beautiful Luke—wanted him again and was taking him home.
Finally, Luke pulled into a driveway, and Jack slowed down to park behind him. Don’t fuck this up like you did at the Ridge, Garrison, he told himself.
On the porch, Luke frantically unlocked the door, and they tumbled inside.
“You sure?” Jack asked.
“Absolutely. You?”
“Hell, yes,” Jack said, kicking the door shut, spinning Luke around, then pinning him against the wall.
The time for talk was over. Dinner at Delmonico’s had taken care of that.
Twenty-four years of thinking about each other… Thirty hours of heavy flirting… Mutual yearning and undeniable chemistry, all of it about to explode.
Heavy coats hit the floor.
Cold fingers chilled the back of warm necks.
The amplified sounds of hungry kissing, teeth clashing, buttons and zippers and belts all became a cacophony muffled in the snow-covered house.
His thoughts blurring, Jack ran his fingers through Luke’s hair. Grabbed it in his hands—those golden curls he'd been thinking about for so long. Pulled him closer.
Hot breath on his neck, Luke's mouth at his ear, teeth grazing skin, cold noses warming from the friction.
Their hands were everywhere on each other. Shoulders, backs, asses, rubbing them all to warm up anything that needed it. They stumbled through the hallway, still entangled. Jack would rather have fallen than stop touching him for even an instant.
Luke fumbled for the lamp. Amber light warmed the hallway’s wood floors and rugs.
Jack pressed him against the wall and worked at Luke’s sweater, quickly pulling it overhead and tossing it aside.
Jack’s hands went right to the muscles of Luke’s smooth pecs, thumbs finding his nipples, circling, teasing.
All impulse now, Jack followed with his mouth—teeth, tongue, swirling pressure.
Luke groaned. "Fuck."
Jack moved from one nipple to the other. Same treatment.
"God," Luke breathed. “Wait.”
Jack pulled back, and Luke unbuttoned Jack’s shirt and pushed it to the floor.
Jack felt Luke's hands moving over his hairy pecs, the warmth of Luke's palms pressing into the tight, proud muscle.
Moving lower, Luke slid his hand into Jack's boxers toward the cock he hadn’t touched in so long. Jack drew a sharp, urgent intake of breath. “God, yes,” he said softly.
Luke dropped to his knees and pulled Jack's pants down. Jack's cock sprang free, thick and hard.
Luke took him into his mouth without hesitation or warm-up.
The heat, the pressure, the sight of Luke on his knees—it was overwhelming. Jack's hand found Luke's hair, steadying himself.
"Fuck," Jack managed. "Luke—"
Luke hummed around him and slowed his pace, the weight of Jack on his tongue for a minute or so. Jack didn’t want to stop, but he didn’t want to rush past the point of no return, either.
"Not yet," Jack said, voice rough. “We’ve got other things to do first.”
They stripped each other quickly and clumsily, fingers slipping, elbows knocking. Jack's belt hit the floor. Luke's jeans followed. Their bodies pressed together, unyielding and desperate, sliding against each other, against abs, against hair.
They broke apart, drinking in the sight of each other with unabashed hunger.
"You're so fucking gorgeous," Jack said.
"Shut up and fuck me," Luke replied.
Jack picked Luke up, hands under his arms. Luke wrapped his legs around Jack, gasping as Jack's mouth found his neck.
"Bedroom's down the hall," Luke said.
Jack carried him, kissing his neck, his jaw, his mouth.
"Lube’s in the nightstand," Luke said, breathing heavily.
Jack dropped him onto the bed, found it, then crawled back over him. "Condoms?"
"I'm negative and on PrEP," Luke said.
"Same."
Jack lay on top of Luke, his weight pressing Luke down—firm, grounding. Luke's legs spread, and he reached down to grip Jack's ass.
They devoured each other, their desire finally breaking free.
Luke pushed Jack onto his back and straddled him, reaching for the lube. He slicked himself, then Jack's cock, slowly stroking its length.
He sank slowly, taking Jack inch by inch. The stretch was intense, and he paused halfway to adjust.
"You good?" Jack asked, his hands gripping Luke's hips as his thumb traced a mole below the waistline.
"Yeah. Give me a second."
Luke took a breath and sank the rest of the way down. He sat there for a moment, adjusting, feeling Jack deep inside him. Their eyes locked.
"Hi," Luke said softly.
Jack's thumb traced the mole below Luke's waistline. "Hi."
They were as physically connected as two people could be. The intimacy resonated—Luke above him, Jack deep inside.
"I thought about this," Luke said. "So many times."
"Me too."
"Yeah?"
“God, yes.”
Luke leaned down and kissed him—slow, deep, saturating Jack in pleasure that spread from his mouth, chest, and cock throughout, to his fingers and toes, even.
"We've got time now," Luke said, pressing his mouth against Jack’s, reaching a hand back to squeeze Jack’s balls pressed against his cheeks. “You’re all the way in me.”
"God," Jack said, hands on Luke's thighs. "You feel incredible."
Luke rocked against him slowly at first, finding the rhythm, then faster as sensation took over. He leaned forward, hands on Jack's chest, inner muscles working around Jack’s cock as he rode him.
Jack watched him take what he wanted while giving Jack everything. The past, present, and future all blurred together in front of him now, before his attention was consumed by the intense sensations Luke was giving his cock.
"Christ," Jack breathed. "You're killing me."
Luke smiled and leaned down to kiss him—mouth open and messy, their bodies moving together now, faster, harder.
Jack started thrusting up to meet him, no longer as worried about losing control. If he came too soon, he’d simply have to fuck Luke again. And again.
Nothing mattered right now except that he get as high up inside Luke as possible.
Jack didn't want to slow down long enough to think about what they were doing and what it might mean. The heat, the intensity, the bumping together … it was all so overwhelming. He couldn’t think and didn’t want to speak.
Luke shifted, finding the angle that made him gasp, then bouncing and grinding on it to get him close. Jack recognized the look and wanted to delay his own release to follow Luke’s.
He flipped Luke onto his back and drove into him even deeper.
Luke's legs rose, then his heels were digging into Jack's lower back, urging him on.
Jack's eyes found Luke's. Luke was wrecked—head thrashing, mouth open.
"Close," Jack grunted.
"Yes. Fuck, yes… "
Jack felt it when Luke came between them, gasping as his body tightened and he cried out. Jack drove in one last time, holding still as he fired over and over until, finally, he was spent.
They collapsed together, breathing hard.
"That was spectacular," Jack said after a moment.
Luke propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at him. "Better than the back of your truck?"
Jack laughed. "Definitely."
"I had no idea what I was doing back then."
"And we only really did that a few times. Mostly, we just…”
"Yeah." Jack's hand traced patterns across Luke's hip as their breathing returned to normal. "But we figured it out."
"We did," Luke smiled. "And now we have real beds and no curfew."
"Dangerous combination."
"The best kind."
Luke disentangled himself and sat up.
"You want some water or anything?"
They pulled on their underwear and wandered through the house together, still loose-limbed and warm.
Luke pointed things out as they went, casual and unselfconscious.
Framed photos of his mother, sister, niece, and nephew hung on the hall wall, along with photos of Mara, Julio, and their kids, and of Luke from a few vacation spots with other friends.
The living room opened into a small dining area and a clean, modern kitchen with an orchid in the middle of the small table. A deck in the back.
"Two bedrooms," Luke said. "One's an office unless someone’s visiting. And that's pretty much it. Chez Luke."
Jack studied the space. It was warm and cozy.
It felt lived-in, but not overpacked with stuff that had been needlessly accumulated.
It looked like a blend of shabby-chic and Crate & Barrel aesthetics, with a few curios from estate sales and ordinary items from Target.
There was a fireplace in the living room.
"It's nice," Jack said. "Feels like you."
"Yeah?" Luke grabbed two water bottles from the fridge. "How so?"
"Grounded. Safe." Jack accepted the water, their fingers brushing. "Not trying to prove anything, but still... I don’t know, somehow sexy."
Luke smiled. "Thanks. It’s comfortable."
They drank in easy silence.
A low shape rose from a rug in the living room and ambled over.
"Hey, buddy," Jack said, crouching to scratch Marley's back. The dog accepted the attention politely, then wandered off and curled up again, sighing heavily.
Luke smiled. "He approves."
"High praise," Jack said.
"So," Luke said, eyes dropping to Jack's boxers. "Round two?”
Jack crossed the space between them and kissed him. Slowly. Thoroughly.
"Definitely round two."
They went back to the bedroom at a slower pace this time, still reaching for each other, still wanting.
Luke put on jazzy instrumental music that Jack didn't recognize but liked. The room felt warmer now, softer, but still full of clear intention.
Jack would usually be out the door by now. But he wasn’t done yet, and he could tell Luke wasn’t either. Who could blame them after so much time apart and now realizing they were still blindingly attracted to each other?
Jack wasn’t trying to figure out what anything meant. He was enjoying himself and enjoying Luke.
And there was still one very specific gift he wanted from Luke first.