Page 44 of Paint Eater
Time dissolved. It fizzed and bubbled to the surface, popping as it met air. Logan could feel it across his skin, his body thrumming. Nothing but the way Jay bit down on his bottom lip mattered, how he fucked inside his mouth, sucked on his tongue, pulling broken sounds out of him.
Logan’s hips jolted up, and the press of Jay’s cock against his rippled through him. He didn’t know how a simple touch could do that, but his body felt so good, so alive and safe, lit up from the inside.
Jay moved, and they just rubbed off like that, unable to stop the kiss, the space between them getting wet with their precome. There was a pressure in the pit of his stomach, in his balls and hips, that was rising, tightening. The movement of their lips was sloppy and open now, panting, shuddering.
When the orgasm finally hit Logan, it took everything with it. It radiated through his body, a ragged moan pushed into Jay’s mouth. It took him a few seconds to realise Jay had stiffened and stopped moving too, spilling between them.
The earth stilled. Pleasure thrummed like a source of heat inside his chest. After a moment, Jay collapsed, half on top, half beside him. Logan opened his eyes. Jay looked wrecked, flushed and sweating, still gripping Logan as if he might slip away.
Logan tilted his head and found Jay’s lips. Their kiss was sweet and slow, a simmer of what had boiled and evaporated between them. His body felt light, like it might just lift from the bed and drift away.
“I feel so good when I’m around you,” Logan murmured.
Jay laughed, running the tip of his nose against Logan’s cheek. “That’s the weed.”
“No. I mean, yeah, but no. It’s you. You make me feel like…like smoke, you know? The way it just drifts up. That’s all I want to do when I’m with you. Drift up, and up, and up.”
Jay pulled away slightly, looking at Logan closely. “Is that good?”
Logan laughed. “Fuck, it’s so good. I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything like it before.”
Jay was silent for a long time, but Logan didn’t mind. Everything felt perfect. When Jay stroked his face, it felt even better.
“I’m glad I make you feel like that,” Jay whispered.
“Me too,” Logan admitted, and he pulled Jay down for another kiss.
**********
It was way past curfew when Logan finally got back home. His heart beat in his throat as he closed the door behind him, only daring to breathe once he saw his mom’s shawl and one of Dad’s dinner jackets missing from the closet they were usually hung in.
He stripped his clothes off, burying them in the hamper to hide the smell of pot even though neither of his parents did the laundry. He and Jay had sort of cleaned up, but Logan jumped in the shower anyway, knowing they’d been way more occupied with each other than anything else.
By the time he slipped into the crisp sheets of his bed, his whole body felt soothed of an old ache he hadn’t even been aware of anymore.
He closed his eyes and drifted off, feeling Jay’s touch all over, his smile.
CHAPTER TWELVE
LOGAN
As if to counteract Jay’s presence, the rest of Logan’s life had turned more tedious than ever. Nothing had changed—school still chafed, the dinner parties frustrated and caged, interactions with his parents slipped shards of sharp things under his skin, but it was as if all the immunity he’d built against these things had disappeared.
He would think of Jay, of the ease of existing in his presence. Of Jay’s mom, how she welcomed him without hesitation every time Logan went over to their house. Of how free he felt there, how safe. In comparison, his daily life had turned completely unbearable.
It was a slow and creeping madness, but there was nothing Logan could do about it. He couldn’t give up Jay—not yet.
So when Jay invited him to meet up at the tattoo shop instead of at their actual destination, he knew he should say no. Intertwining their lives any further would just make parting hurt more. But he’d gone soft and indulgent to his desires, incapable of saying no to the bright and hopeful expression on Jay’s face. Logan knew Jay’s colleagues were an extension of his family, and Logan was greedy for anything Jay was willing to give him.
Logan pushed the glass door open, stepping into a bright, colourful waiting area with art painted directly on the walls. The reception desk was empty, and Logan couldn’t see anything beyond the open archway that presumably led to the tattooing rooms.
“We’re closing,” a voice shouted from the back, followed by a “Why the fuck has nobody locked the front door yet?”
Logan stilled, unsure, but a clatter of something falling was followed by Jay appearing, smile bright and delighted as always.
“Logan,” Jay said, eyes wide and happy as if they hadn’t planned to meet here.
“Hey,” Logan greeted, suddenly feeling awkward as several people popped up from behind Jay.
