Scot had been dreaming, he was sure
he had, though he couldn’t recall it clearly. It had been a suffocating,
disorientating dream: he could still feel the shudder in his limbs, the throb
of his heart. A wet dream?
…you
were happy. You were laughing…
The details were slipping away from
him like smoke, even as his mind cleared. But he remembered a tall stranger
leaning over him with a hypnotizing smile, and an expression of delight.
Someone welcoming, with hands on him, soothing him, caressing him. A comforting,
sensual presence beside him, within him, talking
to him….
…I’ve
been waiting for you…
Scot shook his head to clear such
nonsense. A presence? What the hell kind of weird word is that?
He and Jerry had been to plenty of movies about vampires, succubi and other
monsters, though they’d spent most of the time making out in the darkened back
seats of the theater. Was one of those special effect creatures teasing his
dreams now? But he hadn’t watched a movie like that for a long time. They
didn’t scare him like they were meant to, and besides, he knew all too well the
difference between movies and reality.
He stretched, his movements languid.
The tangible feeling persisted. It felt soft and thick, flowing like viscous
liquid, stroking like feathers, full of warmth and color and a really delicious
smell.
…talking to you…
It wanted him. It slid inside his clothes,
between his legs, seeking an entrance to his body.
…want
you…
Startled, Scot sat bolt upright. His
heart was beating far more quickly than usual. For the first time, he acknowledged
he was in nothing but his boxers, with no memory of undressing. And he had a
throbbing erection. It tented the fabric, causing a damp patch at its tip. This
was fiercer than his normal waking reaction, and it showed no signs of dying
down.
Shit. He’d never had such a strange, erotic dream
before, not even about Jerry!
He shifted on the bed, unsettled and
horny, the sheet creased beneath him. Had Jerry undressed him? Surely it
wouldn’t have been anyone else. The erection nagged at him, persistent and
demanding. He toyed with the idea of running his hand a little lower, and
giving it what it needed—
Then a door at the back of the room
opened, bringing a waft of scented, wet air from what was obviously the
bathroom.
“Scot? You’re awake then.” It was
Jerry, his voice soft and sleepy too. The hard edge of their last conversation
had gone, replaced by the caressing tone Jerry often used when they were making
out.
“Where have you been?” Scot
grumbled. “Come closer.”
Jerry walked over to the bed, toweling
at his hair. He was naked, except for another towel twisted around his slim waist.
A fuzzy patch of moonlight bathed his bare chest, highlighting a single, erect
nipple.
Scot ached somewhere deep inside,
wondering at the emotions that stirred him so strongly. He lusted after Jerry,
of course he did, but this ache was something else. Damned dreams. “How
late is it? Have you had a shower? I thought the lights were working now.”
“They are.” Jerry’s smile was more
relaxed. “But I liked the candlelight in the dining room, so I thought we could
have the same in here. It’s only ten p.m. or so. My headache was easing off so I
left you sleeping and took a shower. It’s a very small bathroom so we’ll have
to take a turn.” His gaze flickered over Scot’s stretched limbs, the shape of
his swollen cock under the sheet. “I thought you needed the sleep.”
“Thanks.” Scot sighed and wriggled
his hips on the bed. “But now I need something else.”
Jerry laughed and turned to the
dresser, lighting a candle in one of the holders there. When he turned back to Scot,
the chiaroscuro effect made him look alternately sensual and sinister. The
faint smell of sulfur from the match trailed in the still air.
Scot sighed contentedly, and fell
back on to the bed. “Didn’t I say to come closer?”
A strange expression flitted over
Jerry’s face, but he grinned easily enough and climbed onto the bed beside
Scot. “Yes, boss.”
Scot chuckled, then caught his
breath. Jerry’s body beside him was so different from his dream. It was real.
“It’s just us now, isn’t it?”
“Yes, thank God. This is our new
beginning. For us, Scot—together. They won’t chase us any more, there’s no one
to keep us apart. To tell us who we can and can’t see.”
It sounded rather melodramatic to
Scot, but no less the truth. “To swear and spit at us?”
Jerry nodded. He stretched out a
hand and slid it around Scot’s neck. “I know how bad it was—”
“No, you don’t.” Scot tried to keep
the pain and anger out of his voice, but sometimes he wondered if he ever
would. He’d struggled with life for as long as he could remember, first of all
trying to keep beneath the radar of his miserable home situation, then to hide
the true nature of his friendship with Jerry. He’d once told Jerry that he lied
so much to his family and colleagues, he couldn’t always remember what was the
truth and what was his cover story. He’d been forced to do it all because he’d
been drawn to a man: they’d wanted each other.
Was that so wrong? He didn’t know
which caused him the more pain—the persecution and abuse he’d suffered, or the
cowardly way he’d tried to cope with it all.
“Hey, it’s okay. There’ll be no more
of that crap,” Jerry whispered. He rolled across the bed, nudging against
Scot’s body. “You’re so damned hot.” He winced as he shifted his cock under the
towel. “You make me so fucking horny.”
Scot smiled and pressed his mouth to
Jerry’s shoulder. His heart was beating fast again, but for a very different
reason. “No more sneaking around, doing it in corners. In cars and alleyways.”
Jerry grinned. “Not always so bad,
though? Sometimes the danger adds to the excitement.”
Scot hid his shiver. “But we have a
choice, now, Jerry. A choice of when and where. Not just snatched half hours at
lunch, or after dark, or while my parents are getting wasted at some bar or
other.”
Jerry nodded. “Sure, whatever.” His
hands ran gently down Scot’s chest, cupping his belly.
Scot’s muscles tightened. So maybe
he’d found their secret life much more distressing than Jerry had. And it had
been exciting, in its own way. Jerry in particular had seemed to enjoy the
risk. Their groping sessions had been desperate and awkward, but Jerry had never
hesitated to take any opportunity to fuck. Scot had been carried away with the
desire too, but he regretted the fact they’d never had much time together to
explore each other’s bodies. Everything had been rushed, the feelings anguished,
the lovemaking awkward. Scot felt he had years of frustration and repression still
to set free.
“Jerry….”
“Hmm?”
“My choice is now, Jerry. I
want you here—and now.”
“Sure.” Jerry smiled at him. He
didn’t seem to be listening that carefully, his eyes unfocused and his
breathing shallow. Scot could feel Jerry’s cock thickening under the towel. He
reached down, jerked the cloth away, and took firm hold of it.
