Page 45 of Wish We Were There

“This feels surreal still, I think,” he said. “And... I don’t know. I keep thinking about everything. I... I guess I’m nervous about what happens next.”

Taylor shifted against him slightly, so he could look up into Parker’s face. “What happens next?”

Parker hesitated, squeezing Taylor a little tighter against him, relishing the feel. “Well, first, I wanted to really make this up to you. How I reacted earlier... I still feel really guilty. So I want to help out more to help make it up to you.”

Taylor frowned, shaking his head. “You don’t have to make anything up to me.”

“No, but I want to,” Parker replied. “I was thinking I could do all the finishing touches for the Caesura Room you have left, just to get some of that off your plate. I’m not sure exactly how much is left, but anything outside of the permit stuff, I can handle it for you. So if there’s anything with the contractors, or just stuff you were waiting to do until after you got your cast off, I’ll work on it for you. Okay?”

This time, Taylor laughed, sounding incredulous. “I mean, if you really want to... But, seriously, dude, you don’t need to do anything for me. I appreciate all your help so far, of course, but don’t feel pressured.”

“I know. But I want to. I just want to... to help you, you know? To—to take care of you,” Parker stammered, a flush rising in his face at the admission. Taylor’s body stiffened in his arms, and for a panicked moment, he thought maybe that was the entirely wrong thing to say—that Taylor didn’t need anyone to take care of him, that he’d already overstepped some boundary—but then Taylor squeezed him tighter, leaning closer into him.

“You want to take care of me?” he asked, his voice taking on a husky edge.

“Yes,” Parker breathed.

“I want to take care of you,” Taylor said, pressing a kiss to Parker’s jaw. The way they were laying together, Parker could feel Taylor’s cock pressing against his thigh, making his intentions perfectly clear. “Can we... Do you want to...?”

“Yes,” Parker repeated, before Taylor could even finish his question. “But, uh, I wasn’t really expecting to... I mean, my bed isn’t made, so, I don’t know, my room is kind of messy, I guess.”

Taylor blinked, then laughed. “I don’t care. I don’t even remember the last time I made my bed. We would just mess up the sheets, anyway.” His grin took on a teasing expression. “Hopefully.”

“Hopefully,” Parker echoed. They untangled from their embrace and stumbled up from the sofa, Taylor following as Parker led the way to the bedroom. It wasn’t as messy as he’d feared—no dirty laundry on the floor, and no egregious clutter on his bedside table or the little listening nook by the window where his smaller record player stood. Still, his bed was unmade, and he wasn’t sure when he’d last vacuumed.

He couldn’t even exactly remember the last time he’d had anyone at all in his room—had it really been that long? Maybe he should have expected this. After all, he’d wanted to talk to Taylor about everything today, had hoped that they would maybe finally make things official, so why hadn’t he considered that it all could lead to this?

He was spiraling again. Parker paused and took in a long, slow breath, trying to steady his nerves. He had imagined what it would be like to have sex with Taylor on and off for the better part of a decade; now it seemed like it was going to happen, and the last thing he wanted was to freak out and ruin it for both of them.

“Hey,” Taylor said softly, coming up behind him to wrap his arms around Parker’s waist. Parker let out the deep breath he’d been holding in, leaning back a little into Taylor’s arms. The contact instantly helped quiet his mind, soothing away the worry. It was easier not to overthink these things when Taylor was right there with him. “Don’t be nervous, alright?”

Parker laughed faintly. “Too late for that. But this helps.” Taylor’s mouth ghosted against the back of his neck, pressing feather-light kisses that sent surges of electric sensation through his nerves. His right arm still moved hesitantly, but Parker laced his fingers with Taylor’s left hand instead, pulling him forward until they were both sinking onto the bed.

“So, I, uh... I mean, do you want to top?” Parker asked, heat rising in his face again as he stumbled through the question. “We can go either way, or if you wanted something else... Whatever you want.”

Taylor chuckled, nestling closer to him. “I just said don’t be so nervous.”

Parker winced. “Right. Sorry.”

“If you don’t have a preference,” Taylor continued slowly, thinking it over. “I think I want you to top me.”

A rush of heat and desire went straight to Parker’s cock—he would have been happy with whatever Taylor wanted, but hearing Taylor say it filled him with a sudden boldness. He quickly pushed himself up so he was over Taylor. The other man steadily met his gaze, blue eyes wide at first with surprise, then filling with a warm glow as he smiled.

“Okay,” Parker replied in a rush. “Yeah. I can do that. I guess we should probably get undressed first, though, huh?”

Taylor laughed, nodding. Parker helped him pull his shirt off, still moving gingerly around his right arm, then leaned back so Taylor could pull his jeans off. He was wearing a pair of boxer briefs that were a sweet peachy orange-pink color, but Parker’s eyes were fixed on the bulge of his cock underneath. He knew what he wanted then, before getting lube or condoms or anything else—he needed Taylor’s cock in his mouth.

Taylor shifted slightly, legs closing together shyly as he laughed. “Come on, dude. Don’t act like you’ve never seen one before.”

Parker realized he was still wearing all his clothes, and he’d been staring very pointedly at Taylor’s underwear—he shook himself into action, despite the burning warmth in his face.

“S-Sorry,” he stammered, pulling his own shirt off hastily. “I just—I just—”

Taylor’s gaze had softened when Parker could see again. “I’m just teasing. It’s okay. I, uh... I like it. Look all you want.”

Parker’s cock bucked eagerly in pants, and he took a moment to give Taylor a longer, closer look. The other man had been tall and lean for as long as Parker had known him; he’d been skinnier in college, then a little more athletic before the band took off. He was lean now, with less definition to his muscles in the time he’d had to take it easy since the accident.

Taylor let his legs fall open a little more again, but Parker tore his eyes away before they could linger too long on his underwear again. He’d get to it soon enough. Instead, he kicked off his own pants, grateful he’d chosen a pair of black briefs today that were more comfortable with the skinny jeans he’d been wearing, rather than the baggy boxers he might have picked if he’d gone with looser pants. He was sure his erection was just as obvious under the dark fabric; the thought of Taylor looking at it, eyeing him as hungrily as he was drinking in Taylor now, only made him harder.

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