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It wasn’t quite a week later when Dylan and Jack were in the large game room, watching TV. They were sitting together on the couch, Dylan reclined with his head in Jack’s lap. Jack’s hand stroked concentric circles in the center of Dylan’s chest. Dylan’s eyes were starting to close, feeling warm and content. He jumped slightly as the door to the game room opened and Peter walked in.
“Dylan, did you give Honey your suit to be taken to the dry cleaners?”
Dylan sighed, settling back against Jack. “I told you, it’s still in the bag from the last time it was cleaned. It doesn’t need to be cleaned.”
“Did you try it on? You’ve probably grown since the last time you wore it.”
“It’s fine,” Dylan retorted. “Seriously, stop worrying about it.”
“I’d feel better if I saw you in it.”
“If I put it on, then you’ll want me to have it cleaned. And unless you’re going to make Honey go to the one-hour cleaner, which I know you hate, it’s not going to be clean for tomorrow night.”
“What’s tomorrow?” Jack asked.
“Some stupid charity thing,” Dylan told him. “Did I not tell you about it?”
Jack shook his head. “No, you didn’t.”
“Sorry,” Dylan frowned, “I’ve been trying to get out of it for weeks now. Obviously, that’s been going well.”
“There is no reason for you get out of it,” Peter scoffed. “Jack, you’re welcome to join us.”
“I don’t think I have anything to wear to such an event,” Jack demurred.
Dylan looked at him appreciatively for a moment before he snapped his fingers. “Actually, I think I have something that will fit you. You’re a little taller than me, but we never got that gray Armani thing tailored. It should be just about right on you.”
“What kind of shindig is this?” Jack still seemed apprehensive.
“It’s a mill around and mingle shindig,” Dylan told him. “My parents will be watching me like hawks to make sure I don’t bribe the bartender for a drink. You can rub elbows with the Mayor, and maybe even the governor. Any celebrities tomorrow, Dad?”
“You’d have to ask your mother; she’s the one who dealt with the invitations.”
“C’mon! You can keep me company. An hour tops, and then we can escape.” Dylan tried to tempt him. “You can stay the night. It’ll be fun.”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “Are you really saying that in front of your Dad?”
Dylan grinned. “We have eighty-seven guest rooms to choose from.”
“There are eighty-seven available. We only keep about five of them habitable at any given time,” Peter corrected. “And there is one right next door to Dylan.”
“If necessary,” Dylan chimed in. “Say you’ll come.”
Jack hummed, mulling it over. “How about I try on this suit and then decide?”
“Yes,” Peter clapped his hands together, “you can both try on your suits.”
“Daaaaaaaaad!”
“Oh!” Peter thunked his palm against his forehead. “I forgot to tell you. Your Mother invited Tyler and his bandmates. Apparently, they are making a bit of noise in the music circles? Pun unintended.”
Dylan stilled, looking up at his Dad as he and Jack began to untangle from the couch. “She didn’t. Please tell me you’re playing some cruel joke.”
Peter looked surprised. “I thought you were friends.”
Dylan sighed heavily. He hadn’t told his Dad much about what had happened with Tyler in the last few weeks. Much less about the uncomfortable ‘joke’. He shook his head. “Never mind, Dad. It’ll be fine.”
“What happened?” Peter’s papa bear instincts turned on. His eyes narrowed slightly and his hands shifted to his hips.
“Nothing,” Dylan insisted. “David and I handled it.”
“David? Something happened and you pulled in security, but you can’t tell your father?”
“It’s about David, so of course he was involved. But it’s nothing. I’m not going to tell you about it in front of my boyfriend.”
It wasn’t until it was already out of his mouth that Dylan realized what he had said. Peter’s face flashed with a hint of something. Hope? Pride? Jack remained impassive other than curiosity about Tyler.
“C’mon.” Dylan got up from the couch, holding out a hand to Jack. “Let’s go take a look in my closet.” Jack took his hand and let Dylan pull him up. He followed closely behind as they ventured from the game room toward Dylan’s bedroom.
In the plush room, Jack sat on the edge of the bed while Dylan went to the closet. He disappeared inside of it and Jack heard the rustle of dry cleaners and cloth garment bags and hangers moving on the racks.
“Here it is,” Dylan called. He emerged with two bags. He draped one over the back of his desk chair and then took the second to Jack. He unzipped it, pulling out a simple, but stylish gray suit. Jack let out a low whistle.
“I think that thing is worth more than every stitch of clothes I own.”
“Probably,” Dylan admitted. “But it’s not like I ever wear it. You’ll look handsome in it.
“Handsome?”
“Sexy?” Dylan tried again, starting to move the hanger from the bag. Jack reached over to stop him. He tossed the bag onto the bed and tugged Dylan between his knees.
“Dylan.”
“Jack.”
Jack sighed lightly, looking up at Dylan. He wrapped his arms securely around his waist. “About the Tyler thing—”
“No,” Dylan shook his head, “there is no Tyler thing. He doesn’t have anything to do with me anymore. My parents invited him to this stupid party of theirs, but it doesn’t even mean that we’ll see him. I mean, there will probably be close to six hundred people here. I’m serious. We’ll steal some wine for you and soda for me after an hour, and we’ll hole up here or in the game room, or hell even the theater. Have I shown you the theater yet? I’m pretty sure we just got Ron Howard’s newest film in. It’s not even in theaters yet.”
“You’re rambling.” Jack reached up, putting his hand over Dylan’s mouth. “I need you to tell me that you either do or you don’t still have feelings for him. I like you. I’d hate to get excited about what is happening between us if your head is really with someone else. I don’t want to embarrass you or myself.”
Dylan brushed his fingertips over Jack’s temple before leaning down to kiss him. “Tyler was just some guy I met over the summer who I had a lot of fun with. A lot of possibly unhealthy, deranged, animalistic, sexy fun. I got all of that weird and crazy shit out of my system. And I hope... No, I know that now I have you here to keep me grounded. I want to be with you.”
“That did not answer the question.”
Dylan’s face slackened into a frown. “You really need me to say it?”
“Yes, I need you to tell me and be honest with me.”
“It was over two months ago.”
“And you fell deep and hard for this guy, very quickly.” Jack released Dylan as he pulled away, moving back to the suit.
“Look, yes, I may have feelings for him. He wanted things that I couldn’t promise him and vice versa. He’s a musician who has been fucking with his best friend, possibly friends,” Dylan emphasized the S, “for ages. He was older. He was cool. I thought I might be in love with him. I introduced him to my parents, and they were so thrilled because I found a guy that was sort of normal and I didn’t crash their party with him like a crazy person.”
“You’re rambling again.”
“Yes, well, I ramble when you make me uncomfortable.”
“You’re uncomfortable?” Jack teased. “Really? You’ve fucked half of New York and told about it but talking about your feelings is what makes you uncomfortable?”
“Only half of the gay guys in New York. And maybe a few questioning straight ones.”
“You’re deflecting.”
He attempted to change the subject entirely. “Are you going to try this on?” He pointed at the garment bag.
Jack stood up and stepped slightly from the bed. Dylan followed his movements with his eyes as he pulled his shirt up over his head. It landed where he had been sitting a moment before. His fingers took their time unclasping his belt, drawing it out of the loops of his jeans.
“Really?” Dylan asked. “Was that necessary?”
“It doesn’t feel right putting on pants with the belt in. Besides, what if I need it for the suit?”
“That is totally the wrong belt for this suit and you know it,” Dylan was trying to keep his gaze on Jack’s face as the zipper began to uncouple, sagging around Jack’s hips.
“As long as we’re standing here,” Jack interjected, “I’m kind of curious about your underwear choices. Personally, I’ve always found trunks to be rather comfortable. Not as confining as briefs but not as airy as boxers. For some reason I’ve never been able to stand boxer briefs even though trunks are fairly similar.”
“Fuck.”
“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Jack kicked up the jeans, and tossed them onto the bed next to the shirt. “Are you going to pass over the trousers for that suit?”
Dylan paused, seriously contemplating saying no and having his own wild way with this new confident Jack. He sternly reminded himself that Jack was just testing the buttons, very well in fact, and that he was not in any reality a play thing. He was his boyfriend. His infuriatingly good-looking boyfriend.
“Goddamn it.” Dylan passed him the pants. “I’ll be right back.” He stalked toward the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind him.
There was quiet on both sides of the door. Dylan turned on the sink, splashing his face with icy cold water. He mentally calculated how long it had been since he’d had sex. Answer: too fucking long. He knew he hadn’t spent his last night in Tynan with Tyler. Or the night before. Shit. When had it been? Had it even been good? Of course, it was. It had been with Tyler. He cursed silently. Just because it had been with Tyler didn’t mean shit.
“Dylan, are you okay?” Jack knocked softly. “You’ve been in there for a while now. ...Are you jerking off?” There was a pause. “I’m not sure I want you to answer that. But if you are, you just have to ask and I’d help you out. If it wasn’t obvious.”
“I’m fine, Jack,” Dylan called.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” He turned off the water and patted his face dry with a towel before pulling the door open. If he hadn’t been hard before, he would have been now. Jack stood with his arms crossed over his chest, looking slightly bemused in the gray Armani. It fit well, although the pants were still just a smidge on the long side but with the right shoes, no one would even notice.
“Wow.”
“Wow?”
“You look amazing in that.”
“Oh, I hope you don’t mind. I went through your ties. I borrowed one I thought would look good with it. What do you think?” He fluttered the end of a narrow silver and purple number.
“I think I might have to excuse myself again.”
“The fuck you do.” Jack laughed.
“You just swore,” Dylan gaped.
“I’m known to do so on a rare occasion,” Jack agreed. “Not nearly as soap worthy as your mouth is, but I grew up on military bases. Trust me, I know ’em all.”
“It looks great on you.”
The two turned to a knock on the door and after a moment Peter opened the door just an inch.
“Are you two decent?”
“Yes, Dad, you may come in.”
“Oh good.” Peter opened the door the rest of the way. “Jack, that looks great on you! Better than it did on Dylan.”
“Thanks Dad. You sure know how to boost the ’ol self-esteem.”
“You know what I mean.” Peter took an appraising stroll around Jack. “The pants could be shortened just a bit.”
“They’re fine for tomorrow. He’ll just have to wear boots with a heel,” Dylan countered. “Stop making him feel self-conscious.”
“Okay,” Peter put up hands in feigned defense, “I wield. It looks great just the way it is. And Dylan, you were changing too?”
“I did not agree to that,” Dylan replied. “Besides, look at that closet. I have dozens of prospects. I’ll be fine.”
Peter frowned, “All right. Jack, it’s getting late. Is David taking you home?”
“David is off tonight, remember?” Dylan told him. “Dakota is waiting for our call.”
“Right then,” Peter nodded. “Dylan, put the clothes out for Honey to press. Jack, the party starts at about seven.”
“Okay,” Jack nodded.
“Good night,” Peter intoned. “Don’t stay up too much longer.”
“Good night, Dad.” Dylan almost shoved him out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him.
“He’s right. I should probably get home.” Jack reached up to loosen the tie.
“Probably,” Dylan agreed. “You’re working in the shop tomorrow morning, aren’t you?”
“Uh huh.” Jack turned away from him, sliding off the jacket and then unbuttoning the shirt.
“Let me help with that,” Dylan offered.
“You sure that’s a good idea?”
“It’s a horrible idea,” Dylan admitted. “But, if I don’t touch you in the next fifteen seconds, I’m going to go insane. I’m not sure I can be held accountable for my actions.”
“Touch me?”
“Uh huh,” Dylan’s hands made quick work of the buttons and he found himself pushing the soft fabric away from Jack’s shoulders. It fell away, falling smoothly to the floor. Jack bent his head to meet Dylan’s lips as he leaned into the palms pressed against his bare chest. “This is such a terrible idea. You should stop me.”
“I don’t want to stop you,” Jack admitted. “Although, I’m starting to feel a little underdressed.”
“If that’s your way of saying you want me to get naked, you only need to say so.”
Jack bit his lip as Dylan’s hands unbuttoned then pulled down the zipper of the pants. Fingers tested the front of the trunks and he closed his eyes.
“Okay, you’re right. Stop.”
Dylan immediately stepped back, pushing his hands through his hair.
“I’m sorry,” Jack looked annoyed with himself, “god, I want to but we can’t do that here. Now.”
“Then when?”
“I don’t know,” Jack admitted. “For me, I need to know that Tyler is behind you.”
“He is,” Dylan promised.
“No, he’s not. You’ve said so yourself that you think you love him. Loved him.” Jack turned away, reaching for his t-shirt.
“Jack,” Dylan reached, turning Jack’s face to look at him, “when I’m with you, he is the furthest thing from my mind.”
“We’ll talk tomorrow.” Jack didn’t have any hesitation about swapping the fine fabric trousers for the denim he’d come upstairs in. He whisked the belt back into the loops before turning back to Dylan. “Tomorrow night, we’ll—”
“You want to see how I react to being in the same room with him. You want to test me.”
“Wouldn’t you do the same thing?”
“Yeah, I guess I would. But that doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.”
Jack stepped forward, pressing his palms to Dylan’s face, “Call down to the office and have Dakota meet me outside.” He pressed a brief kiss to his lips. “I’ll be here after work tomorrow. Around five, if that’s okay.”
“Do you want me to send a car for you?”
“No, I think I can handle getting here,” Jack told him. “Good night.” Another kiss, this time to Dylan’s temple.
“Good night,” Dylan shoved his hands into his pockets, watching Jack make his way out the door.
***
When Jack entered the Montgomery house the next day, it seemed flooded with people and yet guests hadn’t even arrived yet. Dylan was leaning against the balcony waiting for him.
“Oh, thank god.” Dylan was relieved to see him. “It has been bat-shit crazy here all day.”
“Looks like it,” Jack agreed, mounting the steps to come stand beside him. He greeted him properly with a firm kiss to the lips. “So, I’m early.”
“We have a bit until we have to get ready,” Dylan agreed. “Did you rethink what occurred last night?”
“I did not,” Jack shook his head, “but I wouldn’t say no to some alone time?”
“Follow me.”
Jack was close behind as they made their way upstairs to the privacy of Dylan’s bedroom. Once behind the closed door, Dylan wrapped his arms around Jack’s neck.
“So, we don’t have to get dressed for a while yet, but what do you say to a shower?”
“Together?”
“Yes,” Dylan nodded. “Nothing too sexy, I swear.”
“You just want to see me naked,” Jack figured, raising an eyebrow at him. “You’re incorrigible.”
“That may be, on both counts, but yes. You got me all hot and bothered last night and then left me. Which wasn’t very nice.”
“I’m so sorry,” Jack kissed him, “I didn’t realize.”
“The hell you didn’t,” Dylan scoffed.
“As much fun as I agree a shower could be, I stand by my decision to wait.”
“Still insisting on testing me?”
“Don’t look at it that way.” Jack nuzzled his neck gently.
“How should I look at it? I mean, honestly.” Dylan took a step back from him, going to the closet.
“I don’t know,” Jack admitted sinking down onto the bed. “What are you doing?”
“I bought you something.”
“Bought me something? You already gave me a, what, eight-hundred-dollar suit.”
“No, I’m lending you a thousand-dollar suit,” Dylan corrected. “I am giving you a three-hundred-dollar pair of boots to wear with the suit.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“You needed something with a heel, and your feet are bigger than mine,” Dylan brought out a plain box and set it on Jack’s lap. Inside were a pair of plain, black ankle-length dress boots with a boxed toe and two-inch heel.
“Wow, these are nice.”
“You hate them.”
“No! I just don’t usually wear anything like this.”
Dylan rolled his eyes. “They’ll look great, I promise.”
“I know they will,” Jack agreed. “Thank you. This is very thoughtful of you.”
Dylan hummed. “You can repay my generosity tonight.”
“Oh-ho, was that your plan? Buy me expensive gifts and take payment with my body?”
“Good, you’re on board with the plan,” Dylan nodded.
“You’re terrible,” Jack laughed, putting the boots aside. He pulled Dylan between his knees. “If you play your cards right, we will definitely have some fun tonight.
“Tease,” Dylan admonished.
***
There were already at least a hundred people milling about the largest actual ballroom that Jack had ever seen. The party had officially started fifteen minutes before, but Dylan had lollygagged his way downstairs. He pointed out completely uninteresting art pieces that they had walked past a few dozen times in the past. Before entering the ball room, Dylan had basically accosted an older gentleman and his wife, who had seemed a bit bewildered by the interest the Senator’s son was showing them.
“Stop,” Jack pinched him, “it won’t be that bad. Like you said last night, an hour tops. Mingle, say hello, rub some elbows, and then we’ll go upstairs and I’ll stop being such a cock tease.”
“I can’t believe you just said cock in the Parson,” Dylan gasped in feigned horror.
“I’ll say lots of things in the Parson if given the chance,” Jack promised.
“Can I get you a drink? Maybe some food?” Dylan suggested. “Keep your strength up?”
“Lead the way.”
The boys went to the bar first, getting Coke in glass tumblers. Then they found a hot-spot for the cute waiters to pass by with goodies on silver trays. They were getting first-dibs of the bite-sized snacks before Dylan swore.
“Shit, they just walked in.”
Jack had realized shortly after they took up their place, not far from the nearly masked kitchen door, that Dylan had been watching the door.
“And fashionably late too,” he continued.
“Deep breaths. Maybe he won’t even come over and talk to you. Us.”
“The fuck he won’t.” Dylan rolled his eyes. “Just wait.”
***
“Are you going to go over and say hello or not?” Heath was already on his second scotch and they had been at the party for twenty minutes.
“If he’d ever step away from the rugrat, I might,” Tyler mused.
“Look, he’s dating a new guy. You don’t have to be an asshole about it,” Heath admonished. “If you want, we can double-team it. I’ll distract the jailbait boyfriend while you sweet talk your ex.”
“You say that like it’s such a hardship.”
“He’s cute,” Heath admitted, “but you know where my loyalty lies at the end of the day.”
“You can’t wait on me forever,” Tyler replied.
“You let me worry about that. Am I your wingman or not?”
“All right,” Tyler nodded, “let’s do it.”
They crossed the room together, trying to look casual. Tyler could feel eyes on him regardless. He was pretty sure that Dakota, incognito in a suit but still recognizable, was watching him and whispering into an ear piece about his movement toward Dylan. David had tried to warn him to just stay away. However, Tyler had never been good at taking directions.
“Dyl,” he grinned as he approached, “fancy seeing you here.”
“I do live here,” Dylan retorted. Tyler felt his own stomach sink as he squeezed his new boyfriend’s hand. “I’m surprised you’d show your face here after trying to compromise our security force.”
“I apologized for that to both of you. David and I are on good terms again.”
“Yeah, well, Dakota is keeping an eye on you. As are Kenneth, Juanita, Stacey, and Jojo.”
“Jojo?”
“Yes. He’s a former Marine who doesn’t take kindly to people thinking his name is ridiculous.”
“Tell me about it,” Jack chimed in with a grimace. “I’m lucky to still have a hand.”
Dylan elbowed him and threw him a “don’t help” look. Heath took that as a cue to step up.
“Hi,” Heath gave Jack his best grin, “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure. I’m Heath Gibson.”
“Jack Piper.” Jack took the extended hand for a firm handshake. Heath was reluctant to let go.
“Soft hands. You must be like Dylan. Loaded to the eyeballs and never working for a living.” His tone was teasing, but Jack saw through it.
“Actually, I’m a dirt-poor military brat who writes a lot. Pardon any ink stains I may have left behind.”
Heath grinned. “You’re cute.”
“I’m taken.” Jack took a soft step closer to Dylan who was giving Tyler short clipped answers to generic questions.
“You know,” Heath reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and withdrew a crisp white business card. “If you ever get sick of Moneybags over there, you should give me a call. I think we could have some fun together.”
“Oh? What kind of fun would that be?” Jack looked at the card but didn’t take it. It featured a drum kit and was headlined with For a Good Time Call... in an elegant script.
Heath ran his free hand through his red curls before stepping closer. He tucked the card into the pocket of the suit jacket as he leaned forward. “Let’s just say that what we’d be doing would end with a nice hot shower if all went according to plan. Maybe even breakfast. Or lunch, if you played your cards right.”
“Are all Northeastern boys this horny? Because I can’t seem to keep Dylan’s head off sex with me either,” Jack mused.
“I don’t think it has anything to do with location. I think it’s all about you.”
“Heath, are you hitting on my boyfriend?” Dylan seemed to finally take notice of what was taking place.
“Dylan,” Heath sighed, shifting his gaze over, “why on earth would I want to flirt with your boyfriend?”
“To distract him while Tyler tries to get into my good graces again,” Dylan chimed. “I know how the two of you work. We’ve spent enough time together. In fact, one of the musketeers seems to missing tonight?”
“Jordan is coming later with Mora. But, you’re right,” Heath turned his attention back to Jack, “I am flirting with your boyfriend as a distraction. It’s not exactly a hardship.”
“Don’t use your smoldering eyes on him,” Dylan flicked him in the arm. “Knock it off.”
“I’m not doing anything other than talking.” Heath rubbed his arm. “That hurt, you little shit.”
“Wait,” Jack waved Dylan down. “were you just trying to distract me, or are you serious?”
Heath turned up the charm. “Jack Piper, I am always serious.”
“He’ll also fuck anything that breathes,” Tyler warned.
Heath didn’t disagree, giving a little shrug. “I’m a little liberal in my tastes.”
“Liberal my ass. You’re an omnisexual to the highest degree.”
Again, Heath didn’t argue. “You say these things like they’re bad, Tyler.”
“As flattered as I am by your attentions, Heath Gibson,” Jack’s hand found Dylan’s again, “I’m very happy with my boyfriend.” He turned his attention to Tyler. “As is he with me. If you’ll excuse us gentlemen, I was promised I would only have to hob-knob for an hour and that time has come and gone. Have a good rest of your evening. It was nice meeting you.”
Dylan was speechless as Jack tugged him away from the two men, toward the exit.
“That was so hot,” Dylan whispered.
“Yes, well, what I’m about to do to you will be even hotter,” Jack promised.
“R-really?”
“Yes. Did you want to snitch some food?”
“Screw food. We can get that any time.”
“Are you two leaving already?” Martha’s hand snaked around Dylan’s arm, pulling them to a stop just as they were almost home free.
“Ah, yes,” Dylan replied. “It’s gotten a bit crowded.”
“I saw you speaking to Tyler and his friend. I trust everything was cordial?”
“Yes, it went fine.”
“What are you two up to now?”
“Honestly, Mom, I don’t think you want the answer to that question.”
Martha raised an eyebrow.
“Yes,” Dylan nodded, “it is exactly what you’re thinking. Old rules still apply. Nothing has changed in this department. If you don’t mind, it has been a painfully long time and if you don’t let go of my arm, I may reenact the Carnegie Room Ordeal.”
“What’s the Carnegie Room Ordeal?” Jack asked.
“What got me sent across the river,” Dylan admitted. “Although, in my defense I was high as hell and drunk off my ass.”
Martha gave a heavy sigh and rolled her eyes upwards. “Old rules still apply.”
“Thanks Mom.” He leaned forward pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I owe you.”
“I’d tell you have fun, but that seems a bit odd.” Martha shooed them out. “Go on then.”
The two boys did as they were told, hightailing it out of the ball room and back toward the main family quarters of the house. The din of the party faded away entirely as Dylan closed the door to the bedroom.
“So,” he leaned up against the door, watching as Jack perched on the edge of the bed and started to loosen his tie, “I take it I passed your test?”
“There wasn’t ever any test, Dylan.”
“Liar.”
“Really,” Jack insisted. “I won’t say another word about Tyler.”
Dylan reached up, loosening his own tie and shrugging out of his jacket. He tossed it over the back of the chair. “Jack, let’s go do something.”
“I thought that was our plan?”
“No, I mean, let’s get out of the house.”
“And go where?”
“I don’t know. A club, a party.”
Jack laughed, “Dyl, there’s a party downstairs.”
“It’s not the same.”
Jack got up from the bed, crossing the room to wrap his arms around Dylan’s neck. He didn’t say anything as he leaned forward, brushing their lips together.
“You are absolutely crazy, you know that?”
“Maybe a little. I’ve never been tested.”
Jack laughed again before placing another kiss on his partner’s cheeks. “It’s up to you. We can stay here and get friendly or we can leave to the destination of your choosing.”
“You’re right. I’m just being antsy. Today–no, tonight has just been trying.”
“Allow me to take your mind off things,” Jack offered. His fingers moved to unbutton Dylan’s shirt. Dylan’s hands went up to Jack’s, stopping him before he could finish.
“I know we came up here for this, and I want to.”
“But you don’t.”
“It’s too soon.”
“Dylan, when?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is it me?” Jack sank back down onto the edge of the bed. “I’m no Tyler Norse, but I’m not ugly. I’m obviously willing.”
“It’s not you. Don’t even think that.”
“What am I supposed to think?” Jack asked. “We’ve been dating for a month. We gotten so close, then this happens.”
“I know.”
“So, what? What am I missing?”
“Nothing. You’re perfect.”
“Then why aren’t we naked right now?”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t want to do this with you and then fuck it all up.”
“Fuck it up how? I’m a big boy, Dylan. I can handle it.”
Dylan closed the space between them. His hands rested on top of Jack’s shoulders. “Eventually, I’m going to wear thin. I’m going to mess up. I don’t know when or how, but I will. I don’t think I’m hard-wired for relationships. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Neither do I. We’re in it together. That’s sort of the point.”
“You’re telling me you’ve never had a boyfriend?”
“It didn’t seem safe to come out on the bases,” Jack explained. “Then my Dad died and we moved here. I’ve been on dates, sure, but nobody has stuck.”
“So, are you a...”
“Virgin?”
“Yeah, that.”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
“I didn’t think it was a big deal. Does it matter?”
“N-no, I don’t think so.”
“It does,” Jack noted. “You don’t want to deflower a virgin. I’m not completely innocent, you know.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been with a virgin before.”
“You’ve also rarely had sex sober. Besides, one time, and I won’t be one anymore.”
“True on both counts.”
“So, teach me a thing or two.”
“I need time to absorb this information.”
“Okay, well, I’m getting naked.” Jack reached up to loosen the tie. He stood up, making Dylan take a few steps back. He slid off the jacket and laid it over the back of the desk chair. Dylan didn’t say anything, crossing his arms over his chest, watching with a broody look. Jack ignored him, taking off his belt, which he let slip from his fingers to the floor with a clunk. The buttons of the shirt opened as he worked the boots off his feet.
“C’mon, nothing?” Jack asked, the shirt joining the jacket on the chair.
“I’ll meet you halfway on this,” Dylan suggested, finishing shedding his own shirt. “We get naked, get under the covers, and we just see what happens?”
“I think I can live with that suggestion,” Jack agreed.
“Okay,” Dylan nodded. “Music?”
“Sure.”
A few minutes later, they slid between the luxurious sheets. Soft music instrumental music played in the background from Dylan’s stereo system.
“You going to try and lay some ground rules here?” Jack asked, sliding and arm around Dylan’s waist.
“Nope.”
“Then what stops me from forcibly overtaking you against your will?”
“Morals?”
“Right. Damn.”
Dylan smirked. “Okay. No mouths below the waist. No probing digits, and no prolonged touching.”
“What does that even mean?”
“No blow jobs, no fingering, no jacking each other off.”
“But I can jack myself off?”
“We’ll see,” Dylan teased. “Now shut up and kiss me?”
“My pleasure.”