Semi Precious Weapons (6 page)

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" David laughed as if he’d told a funny joke.

Chris spared a smile.

"Where are we?"

Jason stood on the curb in midtown, staring up at the mixed-use townhouse. The cold air made him shiver, so Chris pulled off his long wool coat and draped it over Jason's shoulders for the few steps they took to the door.

Being well after hours, they had to buzz in. Chris kept his lips pressed tightly together. He didn't want to spoil the surprise, and he if he said anything he'd give himself away.

The foyer was typical of a converted home, with a side room and a sleek glass desk with the latest in Apple technology humming atop it. The glossy pine floor shone with impeccable warmth. Ahead, they confronted a stairway behind which sat a brushed steel kitchen of minimal interest.

Jason paused and gave Chris a questioning look. Chris held out his hand to indicate he should go upstairs. There was a loft at the top awash in soft light and the sound of modern jazz. When they reached the top, Chris spotted two smiling women wearing black and sitting at a small break table. Both had bleached blonde hair and wore heavy eyeliner and foundation. On first glance, they were difficult to tell apart, but one was dressed more plainly and had her hair in a ponytail like she'd been doing more of the heavy lifting work -- indicating she was the assistant.

If Jason noticed them, he gave no indication. What he did notice were the racks of beautiful couture, the wall of shoes and bags in individual cubbies, and the gaudy estate jewelry on the table.

A mannequin wore a gorgeous one-of-a-kind vintage Dior dripping with luxurious ruffles in dark silk. The skirt ended in a classic fishtail style. For balance, the dress had puffy, layered sleeves that came down to graceful points. A huge black hat completed the look with black roses and a plume of feathers.

Jason gasped. He neared it but held his hands together as if it were a museum piece he wasn’t allowed to touch.

"My. God."

The ladies stood. The woman in charge rolled a rack closer. "I love a man who knows fashion. That vest,
Custo
Barcelona?"

Though Jason normally loved to brag about his couture, he gave an absent nod as he examined the intricate bustle on the back of the dress.

Chris put an arm around Jason's waist. "These are stylists. They had some gowns in for celebrities to try for the red carpet. They were kind enough to stay late so you could have a look up close, maybe try on some pieces."

"Try them on?" Jason placed his hand to his heart and breathed heavily.

"You know, I was going to say the Dior was off limits," said the stylist. "But I think…" She looked at the dress and then at Jason. He gasped in awe. "You are what this dress needs."

She gestured to the dress, and the ponytailed assistant started undoing the million fussy little buttons while Jason dropped to his knees in front of her.

Though Chris couldn't quite appreciate the magnitude of Jason's excitement over a dress, Jason's mood was contagious. Even Chris could appreciate the workmanship. The stylist patted Jason's head and then indicated a dressing area that Chris hadn't noticed before, and Jason scrambled to his feet like an overexcited puppy and disappeared behind the white velvet drapes.

It took at least half an hour for Jason to work into the dress. Then he fiddled with the hat. They must've changed his accessories a hundred times. Finally, his makeover was complete. They hadn't allowed him a mirror until they were finished, which wound Jason up to a fever pitch. When Jason stepped out, Chris saw him first. The bustle unfurled into a long train that appeared to float because of the silky drape.

He'd somehow managed to redo his makeup, opting for a light line around his eyes and a porcelain finish. A few curly tendrils spilled from the huge hat. The brim dipped dramatically in the front, and a short veil fluttered in front of his eyes. Chris rushed to Jason's side as he made his way to the mirror.

It was fortunate Chris had done so, because when Jason saw himself, his knees buckled. Chris caught him by the waist until he recovered. Then Jason looked at himself from every angle, twisting so he could see the train.

The stylist sat on the corner of her desk and flicked her fingers in a gesture to move. "Walk it for me."

Without missing a beat, Jason turned and killed it -- each stride fierce, his face a mask of concentration. He reached the stairs and posed three times and then whipped around. The train fluttered behind him as he walked back.

The three people at the end of his "catwalk" golf clapped. Jason broke character and squealed and clapped as he giddily bounced to the mirror again.

"This is the
best day of my life
."

Chris beamed with pride.

Jason gave the stylist and her assistant quick hugs and then turned around to Chris, whom he grabbed and bent over dramatically to smother with his warm, wet mouth. Chris blushed over kissing in front of strangers, but when Jason let him up, the stylists gave them another golf clap.

"As much as I hate to break this up," said the stylist, "my husband does expect me home at some point. I'm not as young as you boys." She winked. "I can't be up all night and beautiful in the morning."

"Oh yes, of course!" said Jason. Chris had never seen him so polite.

"We need to get to dinner. I've got a whole night planned." Chris rocked up to his toes.

The stylist winked. "I'm sure you do."

Jason quickly shimmied out of the dress and back into his own clothes with the speed only a model could. They said their thank
yous
and goodbyes before heading downstairs and back onto the street.

Before Chris could tell Jason where they were going for dinner, Jason had hailed a cab. He hopped in, dragging Chris with him.

When Jason gave the address of the coffee house where he worked, Chris worried this was the end of the date. He couldn't figure out where he'd gone wrong.

Then Jason pounced and pinned him to the seat.

"I'm going to show you where I live. And then I'm going to have my wicked way with you."

"So you're not angry?"

Grinding his hard cock against Chris's thigh, he asked, "Do I feel angry?"

The cab driver watched in the rearview mirror so persistently that Chris wanted to ask him to keep his eyes on the road. However, his mouth was otherwise engaged by Jason, who
frotted
Chris mercilessly, mouth-fucking him with his tongue. No one had ever consumed Chris like that, and he soon forgot the cabbie, the cab, or that they were moving.

In fact, by the time they arrived, the man had to reach back and shake them. Chris noted the meter registered at least fifteen minutes longer than the trip to midtown took. He didn't want to pay the extra amount for the pleasure of having a pervert watch them, but Jason pulled cash from a hidden stash in his pants and shoved it at the driver.

Still dazed from the kissing, Chris found himself on the curb looking up at the coffee shop. It was a twenty-four hour shop, so they walked right in and went directly to the back. They sneaked between the glass counter and antique dresser into a tiny, crude foyer. The walls were brick and the floor rough concrete. The backdoor was a dented dull metal with a sliding bolt. Metal stairways led to the second floor and cellar.

Jason took him downstairs. Halfway down, Jason turned and pushed up the trapdoor, shutting out the weak upstairs light. Chris heard a switch click, and a million white Christmas lights came on, framing the squat box of a room.

The walls and floor had once been the same as those above, but Jason -- or someone -- had treated them with a blue glossy tint speckled with white paint that formed constellations.

The bathroom consisted of a corrugated plastic tube with a showerhead, an industrial metal sink and a metal toilet. Jason had adorned the bathroom area with a Goodwill mirror and homemade room dividers cobbled together with old pipes and fabric scraps.

A mattress on the floor served as his bed, but Jason had made at least one more trip to the Ritz, as the duvet and million pillows looked very familiar. Chris eyed Jason, wondering how he'd managed to get all of those pillows out without arousing suspicion. He was a man of many talents.

There weren't any windows, but Jason made up for it with a collection of interesting modern art. Chris crossed the room to examine a modern graphic print of angular lilies in black and white.

"You would be amazed by what art students throw out. Some of them are really talented. I hate seeing good art go to waste."

Jason followed Chris as he examined his belongings. There were a few metal racks of clothes and a stack of shoeboxes tucked neatly under the stairs.

"This is amazing, Jason. Has to be the nicest basement I've ever seen."

Jason snickered. "I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not."

"
Amazing
! I said your basement was amazing!" Chris turned and wrapped his arms around Jason. "Don't pick apart my words. I'm not very good at them."

"I got the feeling. I guess we'll have to move beyond words."

Jason leaned in for a kiss, but Chris swept him up and carried him to the bed. He set him down gently this time, not sure how cushioned a mattress on the floor would be.

Sitting up, Jason slipped out of his vest and pulled off his sweater. His turquoise beads rattled as they fell back on his chest.

Chris quickly did away with his own clothes, careful to leave his condom and tube of lubricant by the edge of the bed.

He helped Jason pull off his boots. Chris took great pleasure in kissing his toes again, nuzzling his face against the soft arch, dragging his tongue over the familiar ridges. Reaching for Jason's pants, Chris rolled them down along with his underpants, revealing his gorgeous cock. It twitched under his gaze, and Chris couldn't keep himself from licking Jason's shaft before getting the pants past his thighs.

Jason sighed and writhed under the touches, but his movements were tense. Chris paused to consider, then finished pulling off Jason's pants, leaving them both naked.

Chris picked Jason up again, this time laying him longwise on the bed and curled up next to him. Selecting a suitable pillow, Chris rested it under Jason's head and traced the down turned corners of his lips. "I'm sorry."

For an instant, Jason's eyes watered, but he blinked rapidly. "There's nothing to be sorry for."

Chris pressed soft kisses against his temple and down to his jaw. "It's my fault. What I did to you was horrible. Frankly, while it would frustrate me if you never wanted to have sex again, I do want to get to know you. I want to spend time with you."

Jason shrugged and turned onto his side, pressing his back to Chris's chest. "That's why you got me naked? To get to know me?"

Chris closed his eyes and buried his face against Jason's neck. The fine golden hairs poked him, as if they were upset with him as well. "You're beautiful naked. I'm sorry. You can put clothes on if you want to. I'm sorry. I got carried away."

Jason curled up. His shoulders shuddered. Sniffling, he said with a wobbly voice, "I got carried away, too."

As much as Chris wanted to verify his suspicion that Jason was crying, Jason would just deny it. The idea that he had hurt him so horribly brought tears to Chris's eyes. He tightened his arms around Jason, pulling him closer, pressing his face harder against the bony protrusion at the top of his spine. The knot that had been in his stomach since he'd told Jason off twisted like a dull knife. Before he could stop it, hot tears overflowed, dribbling onto Jason's back.

Jason's shoulders stiffened.

"I'm sorry."

Chris hated how nasally he sounded, but his sinuses were packed now. He couldn't remember the last time he'd cried over anything, but the idea he'd damaged such a fragile creature made him want to retch. Despite all the time he'd spent outside, waiting for Jason, the reality of what he'd done hadn’t sunk in.

Jason had been a virgin, and not for lack of options. He'd defended himself against the city and its people with his audacity, but underneath he was delicate. Jason's fragility was a big part of what Chris loved about him. He hated himself for activating Jason's jerk radar and hurting him. He should have given their relationship time to develop before they'd fucked so they could build trust and understanding.

Maybe if they'd started slower he wouldn't have found Jason too good to be true. Then even if Sebastian had gotten to Chris, Jason wouldn't have been so vulnerable.

But they'd been so eager to get close that they jumped the gun and Chris didn't know how to get them back on track.

Chris would have to be the one to find a way. He was the more experienced between them. Granted, his experience consisted of a few one-night stands and one two-week relationship, but he didn't think Jason had dated much.

"Chris, are you crying?" Jason's voice was just above a whisper.

In a sudden fit of self-consciousness contradicting his chivalrous vows to himself, Chris wanted to say no but denying the obvious was futile.

"Yeah."

Tugging the duvet, Jason blotted his face. Then he wriggled in Chris's arms, turning over to face him. Jason's eyes were swollen and his mascara had run, but Chris kept that to himself.