Nate got a text from Jason around six. Lookout? Tonight, midnight? He was eating dinner in the empty kitchen at his parents’ house, instead of in the mess hall with the campers. He needed some time to himself if he was going to make it through evening prayer.
A spike of arousal when he read the text. Followed by guilt. Always the guilt, but this time it was laced with excitement, seemed to spur his lust.
He wrote back, Yes. Hesitated only a moment. Then texted Marissa asking if she’d come over at ten—he needed to talk to her about something. Tried not to think about what that meant. That he was breaking up with Marissa because he planned to fuck Jason tonight at the lookout at midnight.
He sat numb and silent through evening prayer. A couple of times he thought he felt Isaac watching him, angry and plaintive, but he ignored it. Isaac hadn’t forgiven him for telling his father what had happened. Hadn’t forgiven him for sharing his shame with the reverend. And a part of Nate agreed with him. There had been nothing soothing in his father’s words. Nothing comforting in a shared prayer for strength. It had left Nate hollow. He said a subdued goodnight to his dad once the campers were in bed. Went to the kitchen to wait.
He was pacing the kitchen, chugging water, when he heard Marissa’s car pull up. The slam of the car door. Footsteps on the walk. And then the front door opened, creaked, closed again. “Nate?”
“In here.”
She entered the kitchen. She was wearing a light pink tank top and denim shorts. Just enough makeup to bring out her dark eyes. Her hair was slightly damp, clipped high on her head, and he could smell her shampoo from here. She was beautiful, and smarter than he’d ever be, and if he didn’t love her now, he never would. “Hi,” she said.
“Hi.” He set his water glass down. Clenched his hand so it wouldn’t shake. “Thanks for coming over. Can, uh…can we go upstairs?”
She nodded.
Nate led her to his room. He’d rehearsed what he wanted to say, but now that she was here, he wasn’t sure how to begin.
Do it quickly.
He was still anxious over what had happened with Isaac earlier. “You’re going to hell just like the rest of us.”
I know.
She hesitated at the threshold. “Are you breaking up with me?”
He froze, facing the wall with the framed picture of last year’s Moving Forward group. Dozens of tiny faces smiled back at him. He heard her come in behind him and sit on the bed. He made himself face her. She didn’t look angry. “W-why do you think that?”
She shrugged. “Because you don’t love me.”
Nate’s stomach clenched. “I do! I do. Just…”
“Shut up.” She gave him a reluctant smile. “I’m not an idiot. I’ve known for a long time.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
She sighed and didn’t answer.
After several moments, Nate ventured, “You’re not okay with that.”
She met his gaze. “What are you doing, Nate?”
“Uh...what do you mean?”
“There’s someone else, isn’t there?”
“No. I mean—no, not…” His throat tightened. “I’m trying.”
“I know.” Her voice was soft. “I used to think I was helping. Now I don’t know.”
“You are. You did.” Nate wasn’t sure what he was trying to do. He had to break up with her—to protect her. But she’d been so familiar for so long, and now the way she was looking at him was completely foreign.
“For fuck’s sake.” She looked away. “You need to be honest. Okay? Just tell people the truth.”
Did she mean about not being cured? What did he say or do that made it so obvious to everyone?
“I saw the way you looked at him.” Isaac had said. Had Marissa seen too? In just a few moments on a dark evening at the lookout, had she known?
“I’m gay.” His voice sounded far away. “I thought I wasn’t anymore. I thought...”
“I know,” she repeated.
He closed his eyes. “Do you hate me?”
“No. I wish you’d told me sooner. But I don’t hate you.”
He opened his eyes. He wanted to tell her everything. Ask her advice. They used to do that for each other. Little things: Marissa trying to figure out how to tell her mom she’d gotten a tattoo. Nate wondering what classes to take at community college.
“I want to tell you the truth. I feel like—like I’ve lied to you. And…there is someone else,” he said slowly. “But I didn’t—I haven’t…”
A flash of anger in her eyes. Then hurt. “You swear?”
He thought guiltily of the blowjob.
“Nate.” Her voice was hard.
“I mean…”
“Did you fuck him while we were together?”
“No. No, no, Marissa, we just—just fooled around.” She’d said he needed to be honest. But all Nate wanted now was to feed words back into his mouth. Strike them from the record.
“Nate!” She stood. “What kind of ‘fooled around’?”
“Just…”
“What, made out?”
He didn’t answer.
“Did you blow each other? What?”
Nate flinched. There it was—that hard edge to her that scared him.
“Oh fucking God damn,” she said. “What the hell?”
“I’m sorry! It just happened. I didn’t think it…”
“Didn’t think it counted, because you never thought our relationship was real?” She stepped toward him. “You listen to me. I don’t have a problem with you being gay. I don’t think it makes you a bad person. I don’t think you’re going to hell. And I get why you can’t be with me. But—”
“I didn’t fuck him!” Nate interrupted, panicked.
She stared at him. “What?”
He was too terrified to respond.
“So it didn’t count because it was just a BJ? Because it’s not sex if it’s a dick in a mouth and not an ass?”
“Marissa—”
“What is wrong with you?” she demanded.
Where to start?
She went on. “Yes, you’re struggling. Yes, you’re in a rough situation. And yeah, you made me your beard, and I pretended not to notice that you’re not, like, attracted to me at all. But Nate? None of that gave you the right to cheat on me. Do you understand?”
Nate shook his head helplessly. “I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry?” Her eyes shimmered. Tears of anger or despair, he couldn’t tell. He hoped it was anger. She deserved to be angry. He wanted her to walk away from this with her dignity. And then he immediately felt like a jackass for thinking that. As though a part of him didn’t need to feel as guilty, as long as she kept her dignity and didn’t break down and cry. Marissa balled her hands up into fists.
“I’m sorry.” He was on autopilot now. “I’m sorry.”
“Shut up!” she snapped. “Shut the hell up!”
Nate clamped his mouth shut.
“Who was it?” Marissa tilted her chin up. “Do I know him?”
“I—” Nate couldn’t speak, but he knew it was written all over his face.
Marissa’s mouth fell open slightly. “Oh. Oh God. Don’t tell me it was Jason fucking Banning!”
Nate’s heart clenched.
Marissa shook her head. “Oh, Nate.” She gazed around his room, as though she was taking one last long look. Then she shook her head again. “Goodbye. And good luck. You’re going to need it, aren’t you?”
She slammed the door as she left.
When Nate arrived at the lookout, Jason’s car was already there. Jason was down a ways, standing behind the guardrail and watching the bats fly over the canyon. The sky had just enough light to back his silhouette, and the tall, feathering shadows of the pine trees. Jason heard him coming; Nate could tell by the way he tensed, stood a little straighter. But he didn’t look at Nate until Nate was right beside him.
“How are you?” Jason had one large hand on the rail. Nate wondered what would happen if he put his own over the top of it.
Nate tried to smile. “Good.” I have no idea what I’m doing. No fucking idea. Every time things start making sense, I get pushed back again into this fucking sludge.
Jason took his hand off the rail and placed it on Nate’s shoulder. Moved his fingers up and down the swishy material of Nate’s jacket. Then dipped under the jacket, under Nate’s shirt, and traced a serpentine up his back. Nate’s dick hardened, and he closed his eyes. “You sure?” Jason asked.
“Weird day.”
“Weird, how?” Jason’s fingertips between his shoulder blades made him shiver.
“Um. Camp stuff. Marissa stuff.” Stuff that was his responsibility to deal with, not Jason’s. He didn’t need the burden of Jason’s guilt as well. Not when his own was heavy enough. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
Jason kept stroking Nate’s back. His touch was hypnotic. Nate couldn’t have moved away if he’d wanted.
“How was your day?”
Jason’s hand faltered. “Good.”
Nate let the lie go unchallenged.
What they had here, together, was fragile. The outside world—their lives, their families, their pasts—would kill it. He didn’t want that. Not tonight. Tonight, he needed this.
“There’s a blanket in my car.” The words came out too fast, riding the nervous rush of air behind them.
Jason splayed his hand over Nate’s back. “Are you asking me down to Makeout Point?”
That was what the kids called it. Follow the narrow, twisting path down the side of the steep hill from the lookout, and you came eventually to Makeout Point. A grassy promontory that overlooked the town. The view wasn’t as good as from the lookout, but nobody went there for the view.
Nate tried to joke. “What? You never went there in high school?”
“Actually, no. That was for football players and cheerleaders, and neither of them were really my type.”
Nate smiled. “No. Mine either.”
“Anyway, I doubt I’d make the walk.”
“I could go and get the blanket and we could just sit up here.”
“Is that what you meant in the first place?”
Nate laughed, but the sound was shaky. “Um, no. I was thinking of Makeout Point.”
“Maybe we could try the woods somewhere above Makeout Point?”
Nate laughed again, a little hysterically. Too many feelings and nowhere to put them. Marissa’s words playing on a loop in his head. He’d lied to his dad and to all of Moving Forward, he’d cheated on Marissa, and he couldn’t shake the idea that he’d failed Isaac somehow. And here he was less than two hours after breaking up with his girlfriend, asking Jason to Makeout Point. This didn’t feel like sinning boldly. It felt like being a shitty person. “I don’t like the woods at night.”
Jason looked at him. “You serious?”
Nate shrugged. Forced a self-deprecating smile. “Yeah. Scared of the dark.”
When he was younger, he’d pictured Hell as an endless dark tunnel, even though he knew it was supposed to be fiery. Jason’s fingertips pressed hard into his skin for a moment. Then Jason said, tentatively, “I’d be right there.”
For a second Nate fell back in time to that night at UW, when he’d believed Jason’s reassurances. With everything else he’d screwed up, he didn’t want to screw up with Jason too. And yet part of him wasn’t ready to trust Jason to be there for him. With him. Not yet.
If he was going to walk into Hell, he needed to do it on his own, and not just because Jason was at his side. He had strength enough to be accountable for his own decisions, right or wrong.
“I’ll get the blanket,” he said. “And we’ll go into the woods.”
He headed back to the road, climbing over the guardrail. He opened the trunk of his car and hauled out the blanket. It was a big, thick blanket, great for picnics. Nate couldn’t remember the last time he’d been on the sort of picnic that required a blanket, but he’d kept it in his car anyway, along with his spare tire. Just in case. He’d never invited Marissa on a picnic, because the idea of sitting close to her, knowing that she’d try to get closer, had scared him.
God.
What a terrible person he’d been.
Two years, scared to touch her in case she wanted to take it further.
His shoe caught on the guardrail as he stepped over, and he nearly fell. He clutched the blanket tighter. His only thought was God. Not a specific prayer. Not asking for help. Just thinking His name helped. It had always been like that for Nate. As a child, he’d never known exactly what to pray for. What to thank the Lord for. He hadn’t wanted to have a conversation with God so much as he’d just wanted to know He was there. Wanted to reach out and touch him—not physically, but using something deeper.
Jason was waiting with his hands in his pockets. He and Nate walked side by side to the trees. Twigs cracked underfoot, and Nate struggled to adjust to the absence of moonlight. Tonight, he almost liked the darkness. It cloaked him, erasing who he was, hiding the ugliness in his soul.
“Here,” Jason said. A patch of grass and pine needles at the base of two thick trees. He helped Nate spread the blanket on the ground.
“Okay,” Nate said, more to himself than to Jason.
“And we can still see where we came from.” Jason motioned to the gap in the trees, the deep blue sky tinged silver by the weak moon.
Nate sat, and Jason eased himself down, extending his bad leg awkwardly to one side and slowly rolling onto his hip bones. “I feel like I’m ninety.” He laughed.
For some reason, that made Nate incredibly sad. Jason had seemed old when Nate had visited UW Tacoma. But he was really just a kid, wasn’t he? He’d wanted to change the world, and the world had chewed him up pretty good before spitting him back out.
He thought he was doing a good thing.
Nate might never truly forgive Jason. But at least he could start to understand. Jason believed that homosexuality wasn’t a sin. And he thought that if he could shout into silence the people who said it was, he could make sure kids didn’t live their lives feeling like Nate—confused, torn, ashamed.
Nate had once, however fleetingly, believed what Jason believed. He’d been prepared to tell his dad who he was, prepared to speak out against the camp. Why couldn’t he find that person again? Why couldn’t he stand alone, unbolstered by his faith?
Because then he would be Jason. Bitter and hard and too proud. Then God would punish him by ruining his leg.
God.
Where had that come from? Jason’s injury wasn’t a punishment. Was it?
Nate didn’t know anymore. Didn’t know how God worked, what He wanted.
“What are you thinking about?” Jason asked.
“You,” Nate said honestly. The silence stretched between them. Nate was afraid to touch Jason. “I, um. I broke up with my girlfriend tonight.”
“Marissa?”
“Yeah.” He closed his eyes, then forced them open again. “I’m always going to be ashamed of something, right? Either what I am, or who I...who I hurt?”
“What’s that mean?” Jason asked softly. “‘What I am?’”
Nate looked at him.
“You’re Nate,” Jason said. “That’s all.”
He leaned in, and Nate panicked for a moment, thinking Jason was going to kiss him and that he wasn’t ready yet. But Jason just brushed the hair from Nate’s eyes and pressed his forehead to Nate’s. Nate matched his breathing to Jason’s, so that each breath they took collided. Finally he nodded.
“We don’t have to do anything but sit here,” Jason said.
“I want to fuck,” Nate said harshly. He met Jason’s gaze. “I mean I seriously want to fuck. I want it to feel—like—like everything, and I want it to—to be real. I want to forget all the bad things I’ve ever done.”
“Me too.” Jason’s voice was thin and hushed.
Nate leaned back. Stretched out on the blanket and stared at the barely-distinguished black silhouettes of the tree branches. The blanket wasn’t quite long enough, and pine needles scraped his calves.
Jason pulled off his shirt. Tossed it aside. He looked down at Nate. “We’re gonna start slow, okay?”
Nate shifted. Imagined the dangers that lurked in the woods. Sharp-toothed animals and poisonous plants and all the fucking shadows that kept you from seeing where you were going, where you’d come from. He wanted this to go fast. He wanted to get out of here.
But Jason lifted his shirt, just enough to expose a few inches of Nate’s belly. He scooted back on the blanket and rolled onto his stomach, his head at Nate’s hip. He kissed Nate’s hip bone, his lips soft and slightly damp. Nate sighed and tried to relax.
What if someone sees?
Jason kissed his way across his stomach. Nate’s muscles flexed and released, and his breathing roughened into sharp gasps. Jason paused and licked a slow circle around his navel then pushed his tongue down the trail of light hair leading to Nate’s groin. He undid Nate’s fly, and Nate, shaking, lifted his hips so Jason could pull his jeans down.
The cool air made Nate’s exposed skin prickle. What if someone sees? The thought wouldn’t go away.
Jason ran his tongue along the edge of the waistband of Nate’s briefs. Nate’s stomach contracted, and then he exhaled, some of the tension leaving his body.
Jason pressed his nose against the front of his briefs and let out a warm, damp breath Nate could feel through the fabric.
“Oh, shit,” Nate whispered as Jason nosed his swollen balls. Kissed the outline of his dick. Took the cotton in his teeth and tugged, until the head of Nate’s cock poked through the slit. Jason released the fabric then slowly leaned forward. Nate knew what was about to happen, and his lower body clenched, his hands forming fists as Jason pressed the tip of his tongue to the slit of his dick.
Nate jolted, one knee bending. His head snapped back, his eyes closed, and he gripped the blanket, willing himself not to end this too fast. Jason’s tongue remained where it was, and after a moment, Nate forced himself to open his eyes. Jason was watching him. Jason grinned, then placed his lips around the head of Nate’s dick. Slowly sucked the fluid that was beading at the slit.
“Jason...Jason…” Nate panted. He bent both knees, his legs falling open. He wanted to kick his jeans off. Wanted to lie here spread open for Jason, and who the fuck cared if anyone saw?
“Take these down,” Jason whispered, hooking his finger under the elastic of the briefs. He moved his finger back and forth, tickling Nate’s hip.
Nate hesitated, then lifted again and slid his briefs to his knees, squirming as his bare ass made contact with the blanket.
Jason traced the crease between Nate’s hip and groin. “You look freaked out.” Nate could hear the smile in his voice.
“Maybe I’ll always look like this when I’m having sex. Would that be hot?”
Jason laughed. “You always look hot. But you should definitely relax.”
“Okay.” Nate took a deep breath, then let it out. Gave himself a moment to study the stars before turning his gaze back to Jason. Jason looked so fucking gorgeous that for a second Nate was stunned. He’s mine. Even if it’s just for tonight. His breath caught and his back arched slightly, and he smiled at Jason. “Better?”
Jason responded by tracing Nate’s hard shaft with his fingertips. Nate immediately tensed again.
Jason’s other hand drifted up his stomach, pushing his shirt above his pecs. Nate swallowed as Jason grazed his nipple. He wanted Jason to touch him there, but he didn’t know how to ask.
Will you touch my nipple?
Nate would rather throw himself off the lookout point than say those words out loud.
Without thinking, he caught Jason’s hand in his own. Moved it slowly to his left pec and guided Jason’s fingers in a circle over his hardening nipple. Jason met his gaze, and Nate was nervous because it was almost too dark to see his expression. But he caught the flash of Jason’s teeth and hoped to God Jason wasn’t laughing at him. He moved Jason’s fingers faster, harder, until it almost hurt. Then he let go and allowed Jason to take over.
Jason’s lips brushed Nate’s cheek. Nate gasped as Jason continued to roll his nipple and gently stroke his cock.
This is so good.
All sex had ever been for him was a source of stress. He’d spent his teenage years dreading the day he’d be expected to do it with a woman. And when he’d done it with a guy…
It had fucked up his whole life.
He wanted the freedom to love this. He looked up through the twisting branches at the stars and prayed. No words to the prayer; he just wanted to know that God was present. That He was loving, and that he would protect and love Nate no matter what.
I just want someone to protect and love me no matter what. Doesn’t have to be God.
Jason lowered his mouth to Nate’s other nipple and sucked. Nate shifted slightly. “Please,” he whispered, running his hand through Jason’s hair. Jason paused to kiss between his pecs, then went back to work, taking the nipple gently in his teeth and tugging.
“Shit!” Nate’s toes flexed.
He placed his other hand over Jason’s on his dick, urging him faster. Jason hummed, the sound buzzing across Nate’s skin. He let go suddenly and pulled himself up into a sitting position. He was breathing hard. Nate sat up too and kicked off his pants and underwear. He helped Jason undress, ignoring Jason’s muttered curses of frustration. When they were both naked, he urged Jason onto his back and positioned himself between Jason’s legs. He ran his hands over Jason’s thighs, enjoying the sensation of hair and muscle. Thought he felt Jason tense when he touched the scars.
He stretched out on his stomach between Jason’s legs, not sure what to do, and kissed the inside of Jason’s left thigh. Breathed in Jason’s smell and the crispness of the night air. He licked Jason’s balls tentatively and was rewarded with a soft moan.
Nate studied the shape of Jason’s dick in the darkness. He wanted to taste it. Wanted to suck it until he choked. He rose slightly and ran his tongue along the shaft’s thickest vein. Jason’s head snapped up, and Nate focused on the whites of his eyes as he wrapped his lips around the hard, pulsing length, and sank down.
Jason exhaled. He moved his hand carefully over Nate’s hair, not forcing him. Touched the back of his neck, then skirted Nate’s shoulder. Nate tried to remember what Jason had done when he’d blown Nate. Tried to bob his head rhythmically, applying his tongue when it felt right. He liked the feeling of the ridge under Jason’s cockhead. He circled it a few times, and when Jason’s thighs tensed and his groans of pleasure deepened, Nate tried flicking his tongue against it.
“God, Nate.” Jason tightened his grip on Nate’s hair.
Nate felt that in his groin. He wanted Jason to pull his hair, wanted Jason to shove up into his mouth until it hurt. He bobbed quickly, trying to somehow communicate that need to Jason. He accidentally scraped Jason’s shaft with his teeth, and Jason hissed. He slowed and tried to soothe the spot with his tongue.
He ground his hips against the blanket, frustrated by his inability to articulate what he wanted, more aroused than he’d been even at eighteen, in Jason’s apartment. He thought he’d die from it, this need, this sense that his body would burst apart, an explosion of gratification and guilt and fear and contentment.
“Come here.” Jason tapped Nate’s shoulder and then patted the blanket beside him. Nate scooted up.
Jason kissed him again, forcing his tongue past Nate’s lips, running his nails up Nate’s sweat-slick spine until Nate squirmed.
Nate twisted, trying to rub his erection against Jason’s, but nothing was enough. He tried what had worked for him so far, taking one of Jason’s hands and placing it on his hair. Curling Jason’s fingers around a hank behind his ear and pulling with Jason, pulling harder and harder until Jason was doing most of the work. Then he let go and dug his nails into Jason’s shoulders as Jason yanked his hair and kissed him roughly. He moaned, slamming his hips against Jason’s until his balls tightened.
Jason pulled away suddenly and groped for his jeans. Fumbled in the pocket and pulled out a glinting packet. Tore it open.
For a second Nate wasn’t sure how he felt about Jason coming here prepared to fuck him.
Jason put the condom on. Touched Nate’s shoulder. “I can’t move very well. It might not...be what you want. So, uh, if you want to—to get on top and ride me, then you can go as hard as you want.”
Nate looked at him uncertainly.
“Whatever you want,” Jason said. “Really.”
Nate pushed his nerves aside. Sat up and spat lightly in his palm.
“You’re gonna need more than that.” Jason grinned up at him.
Nate gave an exaggerated hawk and spat again. Rubbed it onto Jason’s dick.
“Nate?”
Nate looked down at Jason.
Jason was still grinning. He pulled a very old, very dirty tube from his jeans pocket and tossed it at Nate.
Nate caught it, even in the near dark. “This…how old is this?”
“Old. But you’re gonna want it.”
Nate squeezed the remnants of lube out of the container and onto his hand. He straddled Jason and reached behind him to grip Jason’s cock. It took him a couple of tries to get the position right. And when he sank back, Jason’s cock didn’t go in, just slid up his crack. This wasn’t going to work. He had no idea what he was doing. But he tried again, concentrated on breathing. Felt the weight of Jason’s hands on his hips, listened to the quickening of Jason’s breath. Sat back a little more and felt the head of Jason’s cock start to stretch his hole.
“Oh God.” Jason groaned.
“Pull me down,” Nate ordered.
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
Jason gripped him harder. Pulled down, his strength startling Nate. Nate gasped as Jason’s cock slid all the way inside him. For a second there was a sharp pain that seemed to bring the shadows down around him, made him forget about Jason and think, fleetingly, of Hell.
“You okay?” Jason sounded nervous.
Nate lifted a couple of inches then let gravity bring him down again. Rocked back and forth experimentally, feeling that thick cock shift inside him. His hand was sticky with lube, and he tried to wipe it on the blanket, but it ended up covered in dirt and fuzz. The next time he rose, Jason lifted his hips to meet him when he came down. They moved faster. Nate tipped his head back, trying to get the memory of this in his muscles so he could hold onto this night. Trying to get pleasure to push aside all of his fear, all of his anger. He wished he could have Marissa’s forgiveness. He wished he could have Jason’s love.
His dick left a small, sticky pool of pre-come on Jason’s belly, but he couldn’t come. Somehow, the sense that he was doing this to himself wasn’t satisfying. He wanted Jason fucking him.
“Hold on.” He placed his hands on Jason’s chest. “Hold on.”
Jason sank back on the blanket, panting, and Nate climbed off. Got on his knees beside Jason. Lowered himself until his front half was supported on his forearms and his ass was in the air. The rocky ground under the blanket hurt his elbows and knees, but he was glad of that. Maybe he was a coward for not wanting to see Jason. Maybe he was weak for wanting to feel more passive in all this. but he wanted Jason in control.
“Please?” He stared at the blanket and waited, his heart pounding. He must look like such an idiot.
I don’t care. I don’t.
He heard Jason kneel up slowly behind him. Felt Jason’s hands, one on his back, one on his ass. He flinched.
“You wanna get fucked, Nate?” Jason’s voice was low, not quite a whisper, and his words hung in the stillness of the woods.
Nate nodded. Clasped his hands in front of him and rested his forehead on them.
“How hard?”
“Hard.” The word burst out of Nate’s throat like a sob.
Jason ran his hands down the backs of Nate’s thighs. “Spread your legs. Wide as you can.”
Nate obeyed. He felt exposed and ashamed, but only for a moment. Maybe Jason liked him this way. Maybe Jason thought he was beautiful, and maybe that was enough.
He could feel Jason struggling. Hear the slight wheezes of pain clamped deep in Jason’s throat. But Jason never stopped touching him, and Nate’s questions remained unasked: Are you okay? Will this hurt you too much?
Jason’s injured leg ended up splayed out to the side, and he used his good leg for leverage as he positioned his cock near Nate’s hole.
Jason’s dick slid into his crack then dragged downward. A moment’s fumbling, then Jason pressed in slowly. Wrapped one arm around Nate’s middle as he began thrusting. His breath hit the small of Nate’s back in sharp gusts, cooling the sweat there.
He picked up the pace, ramming Nate harder. Jason owned him, filled him, went so deep that Nate’s groans felt torn from his center. He rolled his hips in time with Jason’s thrusts, that hunger back again. Every few seconds, Jason hit a place that sent a sharp, aching pleasure through Nate.
Jason reached down and grabbed Nate’s hair, pulling his Nate’s head back. Nate gave a gasp that was almost a sob. Jason slapped his other hand across Nate’s ribs, digging his fingertips into Nate’s side.
Nate clenched and heard Jason whimper. Nate was dizzy, his scalp throbbing, his ass burning.
“Come on, Nate.” Jason’s voice shook as his thighs smacked against Nate’s. He gave the back of Nate’s right thigh a stinging slap. “Let go.”
Nate squeezed his eyes shut and came. His cock emptied onto the blanket, and he clenched around Jason’s dick, the back of his thigh throbbing where Jason had smacked it. Jason gave two last quick thrusts and sprawled forward over his back. They breathed together, Jason stroking Nate’s side.
“Fuck yeah,” Jason whispered. “Fuck yeah.”
Nate laughed, his eyes prickling. He still felt the warm sting spreading across the skin of his thigh, felt his dick pulse as the last strings of fluid dribbled out. Jason slid off him and lowered back onto the blanket, unable to hold back several sharp gasps of pain.
“You okay?” Nate whispered.
“Fine.” Jason’s voice was tight.
He wasn’t fine.
Nate stretched out beside him, facedown. He wasn’t sure he wanted to look at him or talk to him.
He wanted to rest.
Wanted to just be here, in this moment, hidden by the woods and the night, with Jason lying next to him, and not have to think for a while.
Rose was still up when Jason got home. She was sitting in the kitchen, her hands wrapped around a mug of tea, and a book of crosswords open in front of her. She peered at him over her glasses when he entered.
“You’re up late.”
He filled a cup of water from the sink. “So are you.”
“Mmm. But I don’t have half a forest’s worth of pine needles sticking to the back of my shirt.”
He drank. “I fell down.”
“Honey, if you fell down, you’d still be there.”
Jason set his glass in the sink. It was true, probably. He shrugged.
Rose shook her head and looked back at her crosswords. “I don’t mind, you know.” She sucked the end of her pen.
“You don’t mind what?”
“If you bring boys home.”
He thought of Nate. The way his back arched. The way his spine curved. The way sweat slid off him. The muscles cording in his neck. The way he still looked so fucking terrified of touching a guy and of being touched. The way he snatched his pleasures like a guilty child expecting to get his knuckles rapped. The way, when it was over, he’d rested there quietly, an occasional tremor causing his body to shudder. The afterglow of pleasure, or the remnants of fear, Jason didn’t know. He hadn’t asked. Just walked with Nate back up to their cars. Embraced him and asked when they could meet again.
“I’ll text you,” Nate had murmured, and then he was gone.
“You’d mind,” Jason said. He crossed the floor, his leg aching after fucking Nate, and kissed Rose on the top of the head.
She twisted around to look up at him, frown on her face. “Why would I mind, Jason?”
“This guy,” Jason said, as close as he could ever come to a confession. “You’d mind with this guy.” He kissed her again. “I’m going to bed.”
“Jason,” she murmured, her frown softening into something else. Concern, maybe.
“Some guy from over past Fisher’s Crossing,” he lied. “He drinks too much. He’s got no job, he rides a motorcycle, and he’s on the rebound from his ex. You’d hate him.”
“Okay, honey.” She reached up and caught his hand. Squeezed it. Her smile was sympathetic, but it was knowing too. “You can do better.”
Jason wondered if she guessed.
Wondered if he’d ever confirm it for her.
“I know.” He kissed her again. “Goodnight.”