Page 65 of Diamond Ring
And Jake’s torn between feeling entirely boneless and not wanting the immediacy of being face to face. “How about on my side?”
A suggestion that turns out to be a mistake when Alex slides next to him. Because this puts Alex at his back, the two of them pressed together like this means anything other than Jake was too lazy to move. A certain amount of shifting, then Alex’s arm under his leg and the drag of his cock against his ass.
“Yeah?” Alex asks it quietly, like he’s uncertain, like he did that first time they kissed, a lifetime ago.
Jake doesn’t trust himself to speak, so nods instead, and there’s the push of Alex’s cock into him and his mouth on Jake’s neck, and how did Jake think this would be better when it’s infinitely devastatingly worse?
The angle makes everything slower, Alex moving with inexorable patience. Jake tries to roll his hips back. Mostly, that pushes them even more together, the solidity of Alex’s chest at his back, the strength in his arms, the scattering of his breath at Jake’s shoulder.
“This good?” Alex asks a few minutes later.
“Uh-huh.” Because it is, pleasure unspooling within him like he could do this until they both have to go to the ballpark the next day—until the reality of having to play together, work together, sets in. “I probably can’t come like this.”
Another press of Alex’s lips to his neck. “Okay.”
“Just, I mean, whenever you want to.”
“No rush.” A statement at odds with the tightening of Alex’s hand at his knee, with the uptick in his breathing. “What kind of toy did you get?”
“What?”
“If I don’t get to see it.”
“A vibrator, I guess.”
“Were you gonna show it to ‘Mike’?”
“Why, are you jealous?”
Alex laughs, chest vibrating. “Maybe. Mike probably gets to do this more than once.”
And Jake’s grateful for the privacy that comes from not being face to face, because he doesn’t know what his expression does just then, only that he gets an ache under his ribs that has nothing to do with having thrown that day.
“I’m close,” Alex says later, when time’s turned elastic, when the only sound is their breathing and the faint shush of fabric as he moves.
Jake’s cock is still half-hard on his thigh. He strokes it absently, amplified by the feel of Alex inside him, by a sense of turned-on ease, by how Alex hasn’t made him a fix-it project like a few people he’s been with. Easy to lie there, sweaty and swept up, and not think about anything but Alex, who comes, arms around him like he won’t have to let go.
“I’ll be back in a second.” Alex’s voice is barely above a whisper. He pulls out, carefully, then Jake can hear his footsteps, the rush of water in the pipes through the thin apartment walls. Jake should get up, clean himself off, smooth out the now-sweat-wrinkled bedspread. A thousand to-dos that come flooding back, even if he doesn’t want to move. Because moving will mean that this is over, even if he knows it’s for the best.
Alex returns; his shorts are pulled on. He’s carrying a washrag like he’s embarrassed to be holding it. “I know that can get uncomfortable.”
“I’m getting up,” Jake says but doesn’t.
Alex laughs and climbs back on the bed, sitting so that his thigh is next to Jake’s head. He inches over, resting his face against the muscle of Alex’s leg as Alex drags his fingers through his hair. “I was gonna get some food,” Alex says. “What do you want to eat?”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know.” Another stroke of his hair that Jake shouldn’t lean into but does, inhaling his smells, clean sweat, the faint scent of rainwater. Because none of this solves their actual problems.
“Whatever you’re getting is fine,” Jake says. “I’m not picky.”
Alex’s thigh shakes as he laughs. “All right, I’ll choose something. Get cleaned up.”
An almost catcher-esque tone that has Jake up and moving, though he pauses, examining the comforter, the urge to fix it stalling his ability to do anything else.
Alex must notice his frown. “Everything okay?”
“I was thinking about washing the bedspread.” The truth, even if it feels vulnerable to admit. Even if, given the amount of sweat and lube on the bedding, it makes sense to wash it anyway.
