Passing Time (13 page)

It was Jake who finally broke the kiss, easing Louis away by pushing against his shoulders.

“Louis, I want to tell you I—” Louis silenced him with a finger to Jake’s lips.

“No more talking. I’m not done.” He smiled before lowering himself back on his heels. Jake’s cock stood between them, swollen in arousal. Louis leaned in and traced a fat vein with his tongue from base to tip. He licked around the head, dipped into the slit, and gathered the salty tang of sweat and precum. He could never get enough of Jake’s flavor, and his own cock pulsed hot and desperate in his pants, aching for release. Louis reached down and quickly adjusted himself. This was about pleasuring Jake. He had little doubt Jake would reciprocate later in the evening.

Once again he took Jake between his lips. Louis relaxed his throat to accommodate the swollen girth of Jake’s cock. His mouth filled with heat and the sweet tang of Jake’s precum already leaking over his tongue. He hollowed his cheeks and bobbed a swift rhythm, keeping suction tight, encouraged by Jake’s soft, familiar moans.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed Jake’s hand come down to grip the seat. A moment later his hips rocked forward, and his cock surged, prodding the vulnerable flesh at the back of Louis’s throat. Louis eased back, brought up a hand to cup Jake’s scrotum, and closed his fingers around the warm, hairless sac. He found comfort in pleasuring Jake, more comfort than he would have received through talking. There were no words to describe his emotions anyway. He’d rather concentrate on showing Jake with his lips and tongue.

Drawing back to hold the tip of Jake’s cock between his lips, Louis closed his hand around Jake’s saliva-slicked shaft and began to pump. Jake shuddered and groaned above, his hands coming down to rest in Louis’s hair.

When Jake’s breaths grew more urgent and his grip tightened, Louis doubled his efforts. His jaw began to throb, and his knees complained, but the aches were easy to ignore. He concentrated on the friction of Jake’s shaft pumping between his lips and Jake’s fingers massaging his head and the growls that rumbled in Jake’s throat and vibrated on the air.

“Louis…” Jake called his name, breathing it out between his teeth. “Louis, I—”

The rest of what he’d been about to say drifted away on a cry. His body jerked as a thick stream of semen spurted down Louis’s throat. Louis swallowed with a rich sense of satisfaction. He hoped with the strength of Jake’s orgasm, he’d been able to convey a little of his affection to Jake.

Only when Jake had gone completely soft in his mouth did Louis release him and settle his cheek on Jake’s warm thigh. He wasn’t aware of the tears until the first drop trickled across the bridge of his nose.

He hadn’t cried all week. Not even when stood over his mother’s cooling body. Why now? On his knees with Jake’s sperm coating his throat and the remnants of a fish supper on his fingers. This made no sense. He wasn’t sad. If anything, this was the closest he’d come to contentment in a long time. He should be smiling, feeling hopeful, and looking forward to going home. Except New York hadn’t been home in years. These past few weeks Jake had made up the entirety of his world. How could he now say good-bye?

“Louis? You’re getting my legs wet.”

Louis sucked in a breath and sat back, his tears dribbling between Jake’s thighs.

“I’m sorry.” He stood up, wiping his bare arm across his eyes.

“Louis, please.” Jake came up behind him, his hands warm on Louis’s waist. “Please let me hold you.”

Louis swallowed and nodded. All of a sudden he was in Jake’s arms, pressing his face into Jake’s shoulder, smelling some fragrant perfume from the laundry powder Jake’s mother used. The thought of Jake being young enough to have his mother still wash his shirts for him made Louis sob all the harder.

“Give in.” Jake stroked a hand through Louis’s hair. “You’ll feel better if you do.”

“You think?” Louis muttered, his voice muffled in Jake’s shoulder.

“The trouble with you is you keep everything bottled up. You’ve been by yourself for so long you’re afraid to let someone get close to you.”

Louis pulled back. “Someone?”

“I wasn’t talking about me.” Jake blushed. “I mean someone you can learn to care about. Someone you can love.”

Why do you think that couldn’t be you
? Louis bit down hard on the question. Jake had obviously accepted that their relationship had its limitations, which was good. This was the only way thing could be between them now.

“You need to sleep. I know you’ve found things difficult these past few days. I’ve heard you at night, pacing the living room, muttering to your—”

To yourself
he’d been about to say. Louis did most of his muttering to a dead man, but it wasn’t grief that sent him from his bed every night. At least, not grief alone. This time tomorrow he’d be sleeping alone, and the thought opened a big yawning space in his gut. He’d arrived with it. He’d leave with it. He hadn’t come here expecting anything to change.

“Lie down with me.” Jake took his hand and led the way into the bedroom.

They slipped into bed together, and Louis rested his head on Jake’s chest. A steady heartbeat thudded beneath his cheek and lulled him to sleep.

When Louis next opened his eyes, early-morning light pierced the gaps in the blinds and dappled the bed with gold. He rolled over and reached for a cuddle. His arm closed over nothing; his hand dropped to the cool sheet. Jake’s side of the bed lay empty.

Louis listened for Jake beyond the closed door. The air remained still and silent as a morgue. He’d get used to that soon enough, but not yet. He wasn’t ready.

After rising, Louis stepped into last night’s jeans and made his way into the en suite. The first thing he noticed, or rather failed to notice, was Jake’s aftershave. The squat little bottle usually sat on the shelf under the bathroom cabinet along with his toothbrush in a glass, right next to Louis’s. The toothbrush was missing as well, but he soon located that in the little bin by the sink. There was no way the brush had dropped in there by accident. What was Jake playing at? Had he started packing already? He would need a while to get his things together. His bits and pieces littered the rooms like confetti. Louis didn’t mind so much, because it made the place look lived in. Now there were only his few toiletries in the bathroom again. He didn’t wear aftershave or hair gel or any of the paraphernalia Jake fetched over from home. All gone. He was left with a single toothbrush, toothpaste, and a small cake of soap.

He wondered if Jake had also taken away the clothing he kept in a drawer Louis had cleared for him in the dresser. He checked. Cleared out. Maybe Jake was on the couch in the lounge, bags packed, TV on, quietly waiting for Louis to wake so they could say their good-byes.

The lounge was just as empty, the TV silent and blank. The dining room table had been cleared of last night’s feast, and only an ashtray and a pack of cigarettes remained.

An empty bottle of wine stood on the drainer in the kitchen, the contents of which had probably gone down the sink. Perhaps Jake hadn’t trusted him not to down the lot when he woke alone.

He took a seat at the dining table in numbed silence. A smoke ring drifted past.

“Better this way,” Carter said from across the table. “No awkward good-byes. No sniveling wrecks. We wouldn’t want a repeat of last night, would we?”

Louis gazed at the cigarettes before pushing them away.

Carter tilted his head. “Shouldn’t you be making plans to fly us home? I’ve missed the old place. Once you get there, give sweet boy Lawrence a call. With an extra hundred and a blond wig, he may even answer to Jake.” He sounded conversational, but his words were loaded with ice.

Louis shivered and turned his face away to the balcony doors. The weather looked warm beyond. Warm and pleasant in stark contrast to the chill this side of the glass. It was far, far too cold in here.

“Louis,” Carter called as Louis stood and headed toward the bedroom. “You’ve no one but yourself to blame.”

Louis slammed the door, climbed into bed, and pushed his nose into Jake’s cold pillow. If he hadn’t got out of bed, he could still pretend Jake was in the kitchen fixing breakfast from his limited repertoire of porridge or cornflakes. Louis enjoyed neither, but he would’ve eaten a dozen bowls of each in exchange for one more hour in Jake’s company.

“Louis.”

Louis opened his eyes to gentle fingers trailing down his back. He thought he might still be dreaming, although he couldn’t recall who or what the dream had been about.

“Good morning.” Jake leaned over and kissed his cheek, breath minty with toothpaste. “Did you miss me?”

Louis rolled over. “Where have you been?”

“Shopping.” Jake sat on the bed and placed a tissue-wrapped rectangle down on Louis’s lap.

Louis sat up, leaning against the headboard, the black leather cool against his back. “What’s this?”

“Open it and find out.”

He did so, tentatively parting the tissue layers until he located the gift beneath, a simple wooden photo frame. It wasn’t the sight of the frame that stole his breath when he turned it over, but the photograph behind the glass. Of himself and Carter. In Venice.

“I took it out of the album this morning and went into town to find the perfect-sized frame. You like it?”

Louis throat was so dry he could barely manage an “oh” by way of response.

“Shit. You don’t. I knew this was a stupid idea. I’ll get rid of it.” He reached over to take the frame.

“No.” Louis hugged it to his chest. “I like it very much.”

“I can get you something else. If I’ve upset you, I—”

“Jake, I’m not upset, and I’m keeping the frame.” When he was sure Jake wouldn’t try to take it from him, he set it facedown on the bedside table. “Now come here.” He grabbed Jake’s jacket lapels and hauled him forward for a kiss.

“I’ve not got long,” he said against Louis’s lips. “I need to say good-bye to my parents.”

“We’ve got time enough.” Louis pulled him down on the bed.

Jake’s jeans and pants were soon around his knees. Louis sheathed his dick in latex, smothered his shaft in lube, and eased himself between the globes of Jake’s perfect ass. An ass that, up until a few minutes ago, he thought he’d never get to enjoy again. He wanted to savor the moment. So many hours had already been wasted, yet they had precious little more to enjoy. Louis pushed into Jake’s heat. He watched his cock penetrate the humid depths of Jake’s body, inch by tantalizing inch.

Jake stiffened beneath him.

“Sorry.” Louis pulled back a little.

“No. Don’t be. I want this fast and hard.”

“I thought you liked slow and easy.”

“Not this time.” Jake pushed back against Louis’s cock. “Just fuck me.”

Well
. He could hardly decline such a request. Louis asserted himself, clutched Jake’s hips, and pushed in the rest of his length. The tight contours of Jake’s ass clenched around him, holding him rigid. He gripped Jake’s hips and punched into him with short sharp little thrusts. Louis worked to match the rhythm of the heartbeat racing in his ears. He closed his eyes and focused on the delicious friction tormenting the tender skin of his shaft as he pummeled Jake’s backside.

Sweat prickled on his forehead, gathered in the ridge of his spine. His harsh rasping breaths were the only sounds he heard as he pounded Jake, chasing the wave of his orgasm until it reared up and completely overwhelmed him. His climax gushed the length of his shaft, flooded through his body, seeped from every pore, and turned his muscles to water. Gasping for breath, he slumped on top of Jake and rejoiced in the afterglow of his orgasm.

“Did you come?” He nuzzled Jake’s ear.

“Hmm, yes.”

Louis feathered his lips across the vulnerable strip of skin at the base of Jake’s neck. “I might’ve got a little carried away. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Jake snuggled deeper into the pillow so his next words became muffled. Sounded to Louis like he’d said, “You’re the best ever.”

Louis assumed he’d misheard. Jake had probably said
that was the best ever
. The best sex they’d shared together. Louis’s head still buzzed with the rush. He lay awhile longer, catching his breath, waiting for his heart to slow, basking in the heat of the body beneath his own.