Page 75 of Follows with Intent

Jadon squeezed his hand.

“Well,” Nico said with a note of impatience. “Kiss me, dummy.”

Jadon kissed him. The roughness of his split lip was new, but the shape of Nico’s mouth was familiar, the taste of him, the way he relaxed and let Jadon’s tongue in. Only a little, because they were in a hospital after all.

When he pulled back, fresh tears had spilled and left silvery tracks on Nico’s cheeks. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too.” Jadon kissed Nico’s knuckles. “Although I didn’t think this was how tonight was going to end.”

“You thought you were going to get some booty.”

“I thought I’d invite you back to my place to watch a scary movie.” Then Jadon grinned. “Netflix and chill.”

“No,” Nico said, trying to pull his hand free. “I take it all back. I can’t. You’re disgusting.”

Jadon laughed and held on, and Nico settled back onto the bed.

“Do you want me to bring anything? I know it’s a pain, staying overnight.”

Nico shook his head. “What a waste of a Halloween. I shouldn’t even be staying overnight, only they said I couldn’t go home unless I had someone who could check on me while I was sleeping.”

Jadon gave him a long look.

“Oh.” Nico offered a lopsided smile. “Right.”

20

Nico

They stopped at Chouteau long enough to collect Nico’s bags, and by the time they got to Jadon’s house, it was near two in the morning. It was hard to make out much of the house in the dark—a ranch, brick, bars on the windows. Jadon carried the bags to the porch and let Nico inside. He led Nico through the living room and kitchen, where all the signs of bachelor living were on full display: the massive TV, the obligatory leather sectional, the black-and-white prints in black frames. A few throw pillows, Nico thought. And next time, he’d bring something with some color. Something for the coffee table, maybe.

“Let me change the sheets,” Jadon said as they moved into the bedroom, “and you can sleep here. I’ll make up the sofa—”

Nico pulled his hair hard enough to get Jadon’s attention, and then he kissed him. Jadon was a good kisser—responsive, intense, demanding.

Then Jadon pulled back, breathing a little more quickly, and said, “You need to rest.”

Nico started unbuttoning Jadon’s shirt.

“Nico.” Jadon wrapped his hand around Nico’s. “Tonight—”

Nico met his eyes, and Jadon released his hand.

He undid the buttons carefully, parted the shirt, and ran his hand over the spandex Super Gay suit. Jadon’s body was so warm it almost felt hot. The muscle beneath the thin layer of fabric was dense and firm. He pulled the spandex up and over Jadon’s head, exposing his chest. Wide, dark nipples. enough chest hair that he looked like a man and not a boy. And so much muscle—broad, hard-packed muscle. Nico kissed Jadon’s collarbone. He mouthed downward and took a nipple in his mouth, and Jadon let out a breathy, satisfied noise. His split lip still hurt, and his jaw ached from the gag. Jadon slid his fingers into Nico’s hair, half-holding him in place, half-caressing.

Kissing his way down Jadon’s belly, Nico got to his knees. He undid Jadon’s belt and the button on his waistband and lowered his pants. He untied Jadon’s shoes.

“Let me—” Jadon said.

Nico shushed him and helped him out of shoes, socks, and pants. Jadon’s dick was hard. Nico leaned forward and rubbed his cheek against the head. He breathed in the musk, the slight sourness of Jadon’s body and a day’s sweat. Slowly, he slid his hands up and down Jadon’s quads. Then he leaned in further, burying his nose in Jadon’s bush. Jadon’s hand found his hair again, tighter this time, gripping. Nico’s tongue darted out to lick the root of his cock, and Jadon let out another of those pleased breaths.

He took Jadon’s balls into his mouth one at a time, and then, for a while, he played around, trying to fit them both in his mouth. Jadon liked that; he made noises, and his dick got, if anything, harder, occasionally slapping Nico’s face. One hand was still firmly tangled in Nico’s hair. The other petted Nico’s shoulder, careful of the bruises even while, at the same time, he tried to be an attentive partner. Nico wanted to tell him he didn’t care, not right then. Right then, he wanted a dick. Specifically, Jadon’s dick.

So, he took it. Jadon moaned as Nico wrapped his lips around his dick, as he ran his tongue along the underside. He tried to take more, gagged, backed off, and tried again. It took him a few more attempts to get Jadon into his throat, and then Jadon grunted, and his hand knotted in Nico’s hair until it hurt.

“Shit,” Jadon gasped. “You are so fucking tight.”

Nico settled in and went to work. He used his tongue. He used his lips. He stroked the base of Jadon’s cock with one hand sometimes, and then he took him into his throat again. The beauty was that there wasn’t any rush. Even with his lip throbbing and his jaw aching, Nico loved every second of it. Part of it was the pleasure of giving a good blow job—knowing he was making Jadon happy, enjoying the taste and smell and feel of a dick in his mouth, even the forcefulness when Jadon couldn’t control himself anymore and started to rut, driving his dick toward Nico’s throat, his hand pulling at Nico’s hair again. Jadon’s dick hardened more, until Nico could feel every vein outlined against the skin, the head ballooning in Nico’s throat.

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