Chapter 6
Jacob narrowed his eyes at Felix’s grubby nails as they headed for his dorm.
“Why do you have dirt under your nails?” Jacob asked. “Were you digging in the flowerbeds for buried treasure again? You said you wouldn’t do acid without a trip sitter.”
Felix groaned. “That was one time! And no, no flowerbeds.”
“Then what?” Jacob said. He peered at Felix’s nails in disgust. That was intense dirt and grime, the kind you got from cleaning under a sink or scraping a grill.
Not that Felix had ever done either. His parents weren’t the cleaning type.
Even if they were, they were certainly not the teaching type.
Felix only learned how to drive because he charmed his elderly neighbor into giving him lessons.
“I live a mysterious life,” Felix said, oddly fast. He tucked his hands in his pockets, and Jacob realized with a growing sense of unease that Felix wasn’t teasing, he genuinely didn’t want to tell Jacob what it was. Which never meant anything good.
Jacob fought down his first instinct, which was to hammer Felix with accusations until he folded. He went for sullen instead, hunching into his big shoulders and glaring. “You said you were going to drag me into your weird stuff,” he said.
“Not everything,” Felix said. “We have different classes. You study all the time. We can’t spend every second of every day together.”
It was something Jacob used to say in high school when Felix begged him to come over. Felix had never turned it back on him before. It was… disturbing.
“Speaking of,” Felix continued, checking his phone. “Isn’t it Call Your Parents time?”
“No,” Jacob lied.
Felix gave him a skeptical look. And fair enough: it was Call Your Parents time.
Every week, same day, same time. In his first year Jacob had a tutorial and they had to change the call time by an hour, which his parents were still annoyed about.
They were proud of Jacob for going to college, of course.
But they treated it like it was an obstacle keeping their beloved son away from them.
They still hadn’t forgiven him for going to college in Indiana.
Even after he said it was Felix’s idea. Which was true, of course.
But he never mentioned how relieved he felt after watching their small town fade away in the rear-view mirror.
The further they got from Pennsylvania, the better.
Jacob held his head high, gaze trained on the door to Felix’s dorm. “I said I was skipping it this week, okay?”
Felix gasped. “And they didn’t offer to fly out and feed you soup? You only cancel when you’re on death’s doorstep! Here, let me palpate your lymph nodes.”
Jacob ducked out of the way of Felix’s probing fingers. “Cut it out! Seriously, Mess. Get yourself cleaned up or you’re not getting anywhere near me.”
“But—”
“Felix.” Jacob stopped in front of Felix’s dorm, raising his eyebrows expectantly. “Not anywhere near me, man.”
Felix paused. Jacob watched the implication sink in, Felix’s teasing grin fading into something hungry and… nervous? But before Jacob could be sure about that last part, Felix’s grin came back in full force.
“As you command,” Felix said in a goofy voice. He veered over to a drinking fountain, waggling his fingers in the stream before giving up the show and scrubbing at his nails.
Jacob watched, surprised, as Felix washed his nails with genuine dedication, wiped them clean on his ratty shirt, then jogged back to his dorm.
“After you,” Felix said. He swung the door open and bowed, irritatingly charming as ever.
Jacob fought back a grin. If he smiled every time he was charmed by Felix, the guy would be impossible to deal with. He was difficult enough to deal with now, Jacob considered as he headed into Felix’s empty dorm and took off his shoes to line them up neatly next to the door.
Felix followed, slamming the door and kicking his shoes off with such violence it had to be to annoy Jacob. “So,” Felix said as one shoe landed on Shane’s bed, the other wobbling on the windowsill. “What are we crossing off the list tonight? Hand jobs? Felching? Docking?”
“Felching and docking were not on the list,” Jacob said, heart hammering. He wasn’t even sure what docking was. It sounded like… hitting? Maybe? No, if it was about a dock, then something would have to come in to dock…
Jacob would look it up later. After he answered his parents’ angry texts.
Those always came after the worried ones.
Once upon a time, Jacob would have been apoplectic about it.
He would ignore Felix and shut himself in his room until he was on his parents’ good side again.
But the longer he lived away from them, the harder it was to give a shit that they were upset with him.
What the hell were they going to do other than guilt-trip him at Christmas?
They would do that anyway. Why not add a little more?
None of his classmates had a weekly mandated call with their parents.
Felix’s parents barely remembered what he was majoring in.
Felix snapped his freshly clean fingers in Jacob’s face. “Hello? Earth to Jacob? Get the feather duster, we’re docking.”
“It does not involve feathers,” Jacob said automatically.
Felix sniggered. Of course he realized that Jacob had no clue what docking meant. Jacob couldn’t even be mad at him, though he gave it his best effort.
“Quit it,” he said, shoving Felix’s shoulder.
Felix rocked easily with the motion, biting his lip. His gaze was trained on Jacob so intently it made Jacob wonder: was this why Felix always wound him up? So Jacob would touch him?
It was a ridiculous thought. Felix had been annoying him long before any sexual urges set in. He just loved annoying Jacob. A sacred calling, he’d once described it during their first drunken night at Liberty Heights. Nothing in my life will ever be as important as pissing you off, Jacob Branson.
His mouth had been bright red from the half-priced shots at The Last Call. It had been the first time Jacob ever thought about kissing him.
Or, to be more accurate: it was the first time he’d been aware of the thought. There were times Jacob suspected he’d kept a great deal hidden from himself. Things he could never tell his parents about.
“Jacob,” Felix repeated, stepping closer. “Come on, man. What are we doing?”
Jacob hesitated. Then he took off his pocket protector and placed it on Felix’s nightstand.
“I want…” he started. The words choked in his throat.
Whole new Jacob, he reminded himself. “I want to see you naked,” he blurted. “I want to… I don’t know. Feel you against me.”
He expected Felix to laugh. Not a lot, obviously—he’d rein it in after a few amused barks. But Felix didn’t laugh. He just stared at Jacob, first in shock and then in something oddly close to tenderness. Like he thought it was sweet.
“We can do that,” Felix said quietly. He smiled softly, and Jacob’s breath caught for reasons he didn’t particularly want to understand.
Then Felix looked away, blinking hard as if to clear his head, and reached for his jeans.
“Well, chop-chop,” he said, in a bizarre accent that wasn’t quite British, as he pulled down his zipper. “Dicks-out time, didn’t you hear? Get with the program, Branson.”
Jacob wanted to kiss him. Jacob wanted to throttle him.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, and reached for his belt. A few moments later, Jacob was naked with someone for the first time.
It was nicer than he expected. He always thought it would be overwhelming, the vulnerability of the situation too big for him to focus on anything else.
But it was just Felix. He could never be too nervous about Felix.
Even if he was groaning underneath Jacob, miles of hot, soft skin pressed against his.
“Just like that,” Felix sighed, grinding up against him. “Fuck, you feel good.”
Jacob held back a moan. Felix’s cock was tucked up against his own, leaking pre-come. It felt heavenly. He had the vague inclination that this would be faster if he started jerking them off, but this felt too good to stop.
Felix hitched a leg over Jacob’s. He couldn’t reach his hip—he was lying too low for it, their cocks couldn’t align otherwise. His mouth was infuriatingly far away. Jacob had the bizarre urge to kiss his hair.
Jacob hadn’t realized how sweaty it would be. The dorm suddenly felt like a million degrees, Felix’s body burning against his. It should have grossed him out. Instead, Jacob wanted to lick Felix’s forehead.
“Jacob,” Felix whined. He kissed Jacob’s chin—the highest point he could manage. Then he kissed Jacob’s chest, his arms tight around Jacob’s back and his leg over his thigh, clinging to him.
So desperate, Jacob thought deliriously. He rocked against Felix, feeling the slickness grow between their bodies as Felix leaked sticky pre-come all over them.
Jacob twisted a hand into Felix’s hair and pulled his head back. “Say my name again.”
Felix’s mouth fell open. His eyes glazed over, and Jacob was suddenly full of a roaring need to see Felix fucked-out and shivering, too exhausted to even whimper.
“Jacob,” Felix gasped.
Jacob curled over him, and came. He was probably holding Felix too hard, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, thrusting wildly against Felix as he shot ropes of come over his belly.
Felix whined, rutting against Jacob’s softening cock with such force it made Jacob wince. “Fuck. That was so hot, I’m so close.”
He reached for his cock, and Jacob batted his hand away instinctively. He thought about giving Felix what he wanted and jerking him off, but another idea occurred to him before he could touch him.
He pinned Felix’s hands to the mattress and leaned over him.
“Keep going,” he told him.
Felix huffed a shocked laugh. Then he started grinding up against him again, his cock leaving wet smudges on Jacob’s stomach. His eyes started to lose their glaze, staring up at Jacob with snarky defiance. Like he was daring Jacob.
Jacob grabbed his chin, drunk with arousal despite his softening cock. “Tell me how much you love it.”