EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Twenty-Six
“You think we're clean enough?” Jackson asked. He hugged Bo from behind, grinding his dick into the wet, sudsy asscrack. His hands slid down Bo's chest to grab his cock. “Mmmm … you're looking forward to something.” He nuzzled Bo's neck and stroked slowly, as the warm water of the shower refreshed them.
Although it took little more than twenty minutes door-to-door, the drive from Alameda to a parking garage in Emeryville had seemed endless after the lacrosse game and the dinner delay. Unable to wait any longer, they began unbuttoning in the elevator of the highrise.
“What if the elevator stops and somebody sees us?” Bo questioned without trying to slow Jackson's eagerness.
“It won't,” Jackson answered with assurance. “It's a private elevator.”
“Private?”
“At this time of day. The building is eighteen floors of offices and two of an apartment,” Jackson explained as the door opened.
“Oh my G ...” Bo was briefly speechless at the splendor. “Is this yours?”
“Not exactly, but I live here.” Jackson pulled him by the hand. “Let's get you all clean.”
They were silent as they disrobed and looked at each other. Bo was briefly embarrassed by his immediate erection but Jackson politely avoided staring, preferring a lingering hug while the water got hot. He looked up at the taller boy. The silence and the look made Bo nervous.
He started to speak, “Ja ...” Jackson silenced him with a kiss and then resumed looking into his eyes. “Wh ...” Another kiss silenced Bo again and then they grinned at each other before stepping into the steamy shower stall. They scrubbed each other vigorously at first and then after a couple of rinses relaxed in the sensuality of the water's heat and each other's touch.
The feel of Jackson's cock against him focused Bo's attention. “You want to fuck me?” he both asked and invited, as if the answer wasn't already obvious; but it wasn't.
“Are you crazy? Look at you,” Jackson insisted. He turned the water off and took Bo to a full length mirror. “Look how we fit together. Your body absolutely dominates me. See the way you hold me? Dude, you are made to do the fuckin'.” Bo kissed him. “Don't stop me,” Jackson ignored the kiss. He held Bo's cock and looked in the mirror again. “See? Look at your cock... it's perfect. Rock hard in my hand ... Just the right size … Standing up like ...”
“Don't!” Bo called in alarm. “I'm close ...”
“Good,” Jackson answered and led a still-damp Bo to a generous bed. “First of all, I gotta suck you … Can't resist this gorgeous thing ...” It was a brief blowjob. Jackson held Bo's cock firmly in his fist and worked his mouth and tongue over and then sucked hard on the top few inches. Without much effort, Bo came explosively. Jackson efficiently took his load and then asked, “You're not done, are you?”
“Uh, I ...”
“Good. I didn't think so.” Bo straddled him and began kissing, gently, then lovingly, then teasingly, covering Bo's face, neck, and shoulders. Bo's neck was sensitive, Jackson returned to it often. He whispered something.
“What?” Bo asked.
“My exact words: I said I like the way your body responds. You send me perfect signals. No confusion about what you like.”
“No, you didn't.” Bo laughed.
“Well, actually I said 'Mmmmmnnnnsssch.' ” Jackson made the sound as he kissed Bo's neck. “It means the same thing. I'm gonna suck your cock some more now. You want me to?” Jackson paused. “You have to say so.”
“Yes … suck my cock some more … um, please.”
“Polite is nice, but optional in these circumstances,” Jackson commented. “Ummm …” Jackson held Bo's soft cock and looked at it. “It's nice when it's soft, too. I can get more of it in my mouth.” Jackson licked around the head, tasting a residue of spunk. “It's like sucking on a soft pretzel, a nice mouth feel with a hint of salt,” he told Bo and went back to sucking and massaging with his tongue.
The feeling was great but Bo didn't get hard. “I'm trying,” he told Jackson.
“Don't try. Just enjoy. There's no rush.”
“Maybe you should fuck me,” Bo proposed.
Jackson moved back up so they were lying together. “I will if you want, but there's plenty of time for that. Don't feel like there's a deadline.” He gently kissed Bo and felt a response. “See?”
Bo relaxed and tried pleasing Jackson, taking the lead in touching, searching with his mouth. He gagged a little trying to deep-throat but got the hang of it. Jackson raised one knee
and Bo instinctively went lower, kissing inner thighs, sucking cock, mouthing Jackson's loose balls until they tightened hard against the base of his cock. Jackson raised his other knee, leading Bo to go lower still, encountering the funk of rimming. Jackson's gasp at the intrusion of Bo's tongue invited more. He sighed, “So good ...” and taught Bo another lesson in giving pleasure.
Bo was wholly into the rimming before he realized his own cock was again rock hard and wet. He looked up at Jackson and saw in his face the vision of passion, the need of a man for another. He moved up to kiss Jackson's open mouth and his cock found its home. As Jackson's tongue slid into Bo, Bo's cock slid into Jackson. Instinct took over. Slow fucking, feeling ever nerve come alive, bodies that needed each other, giving and taking equally. At some point Jackson's body surrendered and went limp at the same instant his consciousness demanded more from Bo. The fuck increased in intensity and ferocity. Breathing was difficult; they panted for air. Their sweat made the shower a waste of time. Jackson's first whimpering cry signaled the start of his orgasm and compelled Bo's response, an aching open-mouthed kiss that smashed their mouths painfully together as his cock began pumping with every thrust.
They lay sweaty and gasping, kissing whatever parts of each other their mouths could find. Bo's dead weight was crushing Jackson but it wasn't until Bo's shrinking cock slipped free that Jackson bothered trying to move him.
“Oh, I'm sorry,” Bo whispered when he realized what he was doing.
“Mmmm.” Jackson answered in contentment. He hugged Bo, not wanting to let go. He softly kissed Bo's mouth and got an eager kiss back.
“Wow!” Bo wanted to talk about it. “That was … that was … awesome!” Awesome. Ouch. The word he had found so unsatisfactory when Finn used it. “No, awesome doesn't begin to describe you.” He kissed Jackson again. “Awesome is totally lacking. What a sucky word! Spectacular! Overwhelming! Mind-blowing! The best thing I have ever known in my life!” He kissed Jackson again and then waited for a response.
Jackson stretched his arms wide and gave Bo an I-told-you-so look. “So you like topping, huh? I had a feeling you would.” He snuggled back against Bo.
Bo babbled on about just how much he liked it and Jackson basked in the glow. Such a sweet boy, he thought. He stroked Bo's body enjoying its youth and vigor, and now and then he interrupted Bo's monologue with a kiss. Jackson lay back in utter contentment. With the right inspiration, I really am good at this, That's why they pay me, he told himself.
He drove Bo back to Alameda and returned to the building in Emeryville. He parked the car and buzzed himself into the building. Steve was waiting as the elevator door opened.
“You did it again, didn't you?”
Jackson smiled. The question didn't need an answer.
“He's gonna chew you up and spit you out, Jackson. Just like the last time.”
“He's such a sweet boy,” Jackson sighed.
“They ALL are, idiot!” Steve threw up his hands. “What's his name? You want something to eat?”
“His name is Bo. Yeah, I think I do.”
“Bo … Just your kind of name … There's an extra roast beef sandwich here, if you want it. What about a beer?” Steve asked as he got one for himself. “Mark's coming back next week, you know ...”
“Yeah, Ireland called to let me know. I'm ready.” Jackson still had a dreamy smile on his face.
“You're a fuckin' idiot, but you know that, Jackson.” Steve's voice conveyed the fond but exasperated concern of an ex-lover.
“I'm an idiot. Right ...” Jackson chuckled. “You fly deathmobile helicopters and I'm the fuckin' idiot ...”
Steve shook his head. “You're already in love with him.”
Tom loved his news. He couldn't wait to get home. Heiko would of course be naked on the balcony and … “Heiko? You're fully clothed ...”
“Shh,” Heiko said. “I'm listening to this ...” Heiko was sitting on the sofa watching a talking head on television. He pulled Tom down to sit next to him.
“It's a time to avoid the stock, Maria,” the talking head said. It was a money show on CNBC.
“One day, they love us and the next they hate us,” Heiko sighed. “Only last Tuesday, this same genius said the company was a screaming buy ...” Heiko chuckled as Tom kissed him. “And today, he says we suck. 'It's not an outright short, Maria',” Heiko mimicked and then kissed Tom back. “ 'But the smart money is avoiding it.' So says the expert. And I just exercised some options ...”
“I love you,” Tom said, ignoring financial issues.
“Why?” Heiko shot back.
“For unknown reasons,” Tom said, pulling at Heiko's belt.
“Aus unbekannten Gründen! Tomi, that's what you said. You realize you're speaking German to me?”
“Did I?” Tom has gotten Heiko's belt unbuckled but was having trouble with his zipper. “You know this is all easier when I come home and you're naked on the balcony. There!” The zipper unzipped. “I have to make love to you in English though. I can't say it right in German. It would sound like 'I would urgently like to insert your penile appendage into my oral cavity without encountering any dental protuberances.' How sexy is that?”
“Sexy enough,” Heiko sighed as Tom's tongue took it's first lick on him He raised his hips up and let Tom pull his jeans down.
Tom knelt on the floor between Heiko's spread legs and ran his hands over his thighs. “You have the sexiest hair on your thighs.”
“Uh-oh. Praising my body. I guess I'm about to get fucked,” Heiko grinned, holding Tom's head in his hands and inviting further praise.
Tom frowned. “Am I that predictable?”
“Yeah, a little,” Heiko said with a forthrightness someone else might have hidden. “But I love it, Tomi. Every thing you do is exactly right. I could hand over my life to you and know I made the best choice.” Heiko reflected a second. “That's kind of what I did, isn't it? Given you my life, I mean. All yours. No questions.”
Heiko had a devastating way of looking at Tom, a way that poured out his emotions. It was something in his eyes coupled with his brutal honesty. The depth and breadth of his love always made Tom cry. They had an unspoken deal. Tom pretended he wasn't crying and Heiko pretended not to notice. It left both of them unable to trust their voices, but that was good, too. They made love with their bodies; the words meant less.
“Zsoooo …” Tom exaggerated the German z-sound, “on the way home I got to thinking … why don't we go to Oktoberfest?”
“We could … there's a celebration at Pier 48. I went one year and ...”
“No, I mean go to Munich.”
Heiko's eyes widened but he didn't say anything. Tom wondered if he had miscalculated Heiko's interest. Maybe he'd be ashamed of me, Tom thought. I'm nothing like a Wittelsbach prince, just a dude from El Cerrito. That's probably it. He thinks I'd embarrass him.
“Can we afford it?” Heiko asked tentatively.
“I happened to know the company set records this quarter. Your options are going to pay off.”
“Really?” Heiko sounded doubtful.
“Yes, really! We could afford to go a dozen times.”
“Oh, Tomi!” The clouds parted, the sun shined, and Heiko grabbed Tom so hard something popped.
“I hope that wasn't anything important, like my back ...” Tom joked to a mouthful of hair as Heiko kissed his chest.
“You know Oktoberfest isn't in Oktober,” Heiko bubbled. He kissed Tom's cheek. “It used to be, but the weather sucks in Oktober ...” He kissed the other cheek. “I love you so much.” He wiped a tear off Tom's face and kissed him again.
“Und ...” Tom announced portentously.
“Was?” Heiko demanded.
“The Pinakothek Museums in Munich want to install our system.”
Z was relieved that Craig agreed to the return of the watch but uncomfortable about Craig walking him back to his house after Rory's dinner to get it. He had visions of losing a wrestling match at the front door and getting raped in the hallway. Then he got a semi-chubby at the rape idea and felt even worse about it.
As it worked out, his fears were needless. Craig was, or at least seemed to be completely absorbed in the exercise of walking the few blocks from house to house. He walked at such a brisk pace, Z was winded keeping up. Then he declined Z's invitation inside and waited patiently on the front porch while Z fetched the watch.
“Are you sure I can't talk you into accepting it? Andrew has offered me quite a contract and it's because of you.”
“Knowing Andrew, there are contingencies in the contract,” Z said. “Read the fine print.”
“See? More good counsel. You have actually earned the watch.” Craig offered the velvet case back to Z.
“No, really,” Z affirmed.
“Z, don't be uncomfortable about our night together. It doesn't have to mean anything.”
“Oh, sure. I know that ...” Z answered quickly.
“Not that you weren't amazing, in every way,” Craig added. He looked steadily at Z, making a silent offer. “Ah-hem ...” Craig changed the subject. “To find my way to Cal's house, I walk two blocks this way and then turn left ...”
“Yes, then three more blocks and you're there,” Z finished the directions.
“I'm going to ask Andrew to put you in my next shoot,” Craig said. Then he turned and left.
Z felt the tightness in his chest abate as Craig closed the gate at the sidewalk and turned west. He went inside and turned on the hall lights as he went to the kitchen. He sat at the kitchen table and looked at his phone. After a brief pause, he punched the first entry on his dialer. “Eric, it's Z.”
“Of course it is,” Eric answered. “I knew that. Did you think I'd forgotten? I'm glad you called. I called you earlier, but … Anyway, do you want me to get anything on my way?”
“Your way where?”
“Home … I've got Friday off and I thought maybe we could grill something for dinner ...” There was an edginess that was never in their conversation before.
“Oh … yeah, sure … that sounds good ...”
Eric interrupted, “I love you, Z.”
“I know. I love you, too, Eric.”
“Nothing can change that, Z.” Eric sounded more hopeful than confident.
“Of course not, Eric,” Z replied.
“I wish I were there right now.”
“Me, too.”
“I want to hold you.”
“Me, too, Eric.” Z's answer sounded lame and he knew it; but he didn't know what else to say. He wanted to say, “If you love me, get your ass over here right now.” But that was so unrealistic. It was a long drive. It was close to nine at night. Eric probably had an early morning.
“Can't you say anything else, Z?” Eric sounded pathetic.
“If you love me, get your ass over here right now!” Z yelled.
“As fast as I can, baby. I'm already out the door. I love you, Z. Thirty minutes ...” Eric clicked off.
“Don't get a ticket,” Z said to the dead connection.
“You are running more than I am,” Jerry commented to Neil.
“I wasn't running. I was at Tim's, talking.”
“Rory didn't happen to say what that was for dinner last night, did he? I'd like to try making it.”
“You can bet Rory didn't make it. He tries, but cooking ...” Neil shrugged. “I'm going to take a shower. Is the A's game on?”
“There's a rebroadcast of this afternoon's game. I already know how it comes out,” Jerry said glumly.
“Don't tell me! Don't tell me! La-la-la. I don't want to know ...” Neil laughed as he headed for his room.
Jerry opened a couple beers and set out a bowl of almonds. Bernice had given him the almonds that day at work. She and Cyril had taken their 'winnings' as they called their stock option profits and bought a small nut tree orchard near Vacaville - for the little nuts, as Cyril called his two children. Jerry smiled to himself. The little nuts were cute and could make 'Uncle Jerry' buy them things.
Neil came out back weaing shorts and a gray t-shirt with a herd of pink pigs on it. He loved being called a pig by anybody he had arrested. They watched the game with occasional comments on the play. “They won,” Neil said at the end. “Why did you sound so down?”
“Cause I'd already seen it. Plus now you feel better, expecting that they would lose.”
“Always thinking of me,” Neil joked with a puzzled look. “Well, bed time.”
“Yep,” Jerry agreed. He opened the window in his room and got into the bed. The coolness of a summer night by the Bay filled the room. The sounds of traffic were distant. It was a nice night for sleeping. There was a light tapping on his door.
“Jerry?” It was Neil.
“I'm awake,” Jerry answered.
Neil came to his bed. “Slide over, ok?” Jerry was astonished when Neil got in with him. The parts of Neil that bumped him were naked. Jerry had no idea what was going on.
Neil was very businesslike. “Ok, here goes ...” he cleared his throat. “I love you.” He gave Jerry a very businesslike kiss, long enough that his intention was unmistakeable and short enough that it wasn't sloppy. He handed Jerry something and lay face down resting his head on his folded his arms. “I'd like it if you … if you … fucked me.” Neil lay flat out, expectantly and apparently, as far as Jerry could make out, naked.
“Neil, what is this?”
“It's lube. Use a lot, ok?. Are you hard? Didn't I kiss you enough? I'm new at this.” Neil reached for Jerry prepared to kiss him some more.
“Neil, what the fuck is going on?”
“I talked to Tim. He decided that I love you. I'm pretty sure that I do. And I can't share you. Not with that guy last night and not with a girl either. For denying you any lovelife, Tim said it's my responsibility to keep you satisfied. So I'm offering myself. Tim said that's a very good brand of lube. But still, use a lot, ok? My first time and all ...”
“Are you gay all of a sudden?” Jerry asked.
“No, of course not. Well, kind of. Maybe. For you ... Just you, though ...”
“Really? No shit?” Jerry was unconvinced.
“Tim says there is such a thing as situational homosexuality. Like in prison, where guys like each other. Well, I think that's how I am with you. Except for the prison part.”
Jerry waited for more of an explanation. He got a reaction instead.
“You don't want to do this … Oh, shit. I should have know … Man, I'm so sorry ...Jeez, what an idiot .. I've made a complete fool of myself.” Neil rolled over ready to go.
“Wait!” Jerry kissed him. They let it linger and it did get a little sloppy and a little needy.
“Right now ... as of tonight, you think I'm a fuckin' idiot, don't you?” Neil questioned.
“I've always thought you were a fuckin' idiot,” Jerry said.
“You asshole ...” Neil grabbed him and they ended up hugging. They tried another kiss.
“Do you really want to get fucked?” Jerry asked.
“Jeez, I don't know … Tim said it's the ultimate act. We'd get to it eventually, wouldn't we? So I thought we might as well start there. Are you saying you're hard?”
“Why don't you find out?” Jerry answered.
Neil gently touched Jerry's cock and then held it in his hand. “Man, I've seen you hard before, but … shit … I'm thinking about this thing going in me … suddenly it seems a lot bigger. Use about half the lube, ok?”
“Neil, we don't have to ...”
“Yes, we do. I want to do it for you.”
They did it. It was not a polished performance by either man. Neil gasped in pain at one point.
“Neil, am I hurting you?”
“No, no, keep going ...”
“Bullshit, you're all tense and holding your breath half the time.”
“Use a little more lube, ok?”
When it was over, things were very different. Neil, now the veteran, was relaxed and cuddly, a term Jerry never thought would apply to Neil. “Did you like it?” Neil asked.
“Yeah I did. Did you?”
Neil didn't answer directly. “I'm going to be so much better tomorrow night. You'll see.”
“You think we're clean enough?” Jackson asked. He hugged Bo from behind, grinding his dick into the wet, sudsy asscrack. His hands slid down Bo's chest to grab his cock. “Mmmm … you're looking forward to something.” He nuzzled Bo's neck and stroked slowly, as the warm water of the shower refreshed them.
Although it took little more than twenty minutes door-to-door, the drive from Alameda to a parking garage in Emeryville had seemed endless after the lacrosse game and the dinner delay. Unable to wait any longer, they began unbuttoning in the elevator of the highrise.
“What if the elevator stops and somebody sees us?” Bo questioned without trying to slow Jackson's eagerness.
“It won't,” Jackson answered with assurance. “It's a private elevator.”
“Private?”
“At this time of day. The building is eighteen floors of offices and two of an apartment,” Jackson explained as the door opened.
“Oh my G ...” Bo was briefly speechless at the splendor. “Is this yours?”
“Not exactly, but I live here.” Jackson pulled him by the hand. “Let's get you all clean.”
They were silent as they disrobed and looked at each other. Bo was briefly embarrassed by his immediate erection but Jackson politely avoided staring, preferring a lingering hug while the water got hot. He looked up at the taller boy. The silence and the look made Bo nervous.
He started to speak, “Ja ...” Jackson silenced him with a kiss and then resumed looking into his eyes. “Wh ...” Another kiss silenced Bo again and then they grinned at each other before stepping into the steamy shower stall. They scrubbed each other vigorously at first and then after a couple of rinses relaxed in the sensuality of the water's heat and each other's touch.
The feel of Jackson's cock against him focused Bo's attention. “You want to fuck me?” he both asked and invited, as if the answer wasn't already obvious; but it wasn't.
“Are you crazy? Look at you,” Jackson insisted. He turned the water off and took Bo to a full length mirror. “Look how we fit together. Your body absolutely dominates me. See the way you hold me? Dude, you are made to do the fuckin'.” Bo kissed him. “Don't stop me,” Jackson ignored the kiss. He held Bo's cock and looked in the mirror again. “See? Look at your cock... it's perfect. Rock hard in my hand ... Just the right size … Standing up like ...”
“Don't!” Bo called in alarm. “I'm close ...”
“Good,” Jackson answered and led a still-damp Bo to a generous bed. “First of all, I gotta suck you … Can't resist this gorgeous thing ...” It was a brief blowjob. Jackson held Bo's cock firmly in his fist and worked his mouth and tongue over and then sucked hard on the top few inches. Without much effort, Bo came explosively. Jackson efficiently took his load and then asked, “You're not done, are you?”
“Uh, I ...”
“Good. I didn't think so.” Bo straddled him and began kissing, gently, then lovingly, then teasingly, covering Bo's face, neck, and shoulders. Bo's neck was sensitive, Jackson returned to it often. He whispered something.
“What?” Bo asked.
“My exact words: I said I like the way your body responds. You send me perfect signals. No confusion about what you like.”
“No, you didn't.” Bo laughed.
“Well, actually I said 'Mmmmmnnnnsssch.' ” Jackson made the sound as he kissed Bo's neck. “It means the same thing. I'm gonna suck your cock some more now. You want me to?” Jackson paused. “You have to say so.”
“Yes … suck my cock some more … um, please.”
“Polite is nice, but optional in these circumstances,” Jackson commented. “Ummm …” Jackson held Bo's soft cock and looked at it. “It's nice when it's soft, too. I can get more of it in my mouth.” Jackson licked around the head, tasting a residue of spunk. “It's like sucking on a soft pretzel, a nice mouth feel with a hint of salt,” he told Bo and went back to sucking and massaging with his tongue.
The feeling was great but Bo didn't get hard. “I'm trying,” he told Jackson.
“Don't try. Just enjoy. There's no rush.”
“Maybe you should fuck me,” Bo proposed.
Jackson moved back up so they were lying together. “I will if you want, but there's plenty of time for that. Don't feel like there's a deadline.” He gently kissed Bo and felt a response. “See?”
Bo relaxed and tried pleasing Jackson, taking the lead in touching, searching with his mouth. He gagged a little trying to deep-throat but got the hang of it. Jackson raised one knee
and Bo instinctively went lower, kissing inner thighs, sucking cock, mouthing Jackson's loose balls until they tightened hard against the base of his cock. Jackson raised his other knee, leading Bo to go lower still, encountering the funk of rimming. Jackson's gasp at the intrusion of Bo's tongue invited more. He sighed, “So good ...” and taught Bo another lesson in giving pleasure.
Bo was wholly into the rimming before he realized his own cock was again rock hard and wet. He looked up at Jackson and saw in his face the vision of passion, the need of a man for another. He moved up to kiss Jackson's open mouth and his cock found its home. As Jackson's tongue slid into Bo, Bo's cock slid into Jackson. Instinct took over. Slow fucking, feeling ever nerve come alive, bodies that needed each other, giving and taking equally. At some point Jackson's body surrendered and went limp at the same instant his consciousness demanded more from Bo. The fuck increased in intensity and ferocity. Breathing was difficult; they panted for air. Their sweat made the shower a waste of time. Jackson's first whimpering cry signaled the start of his orgasm and compelled Bo's response, an aching open-mouthed kiss that smashed their mouths painfully together as his cock began pumping with every thrust.
They lay sweaty and gasping, kissing whatever parts of each other their mouths could find. Bo's dead weight was crushing Jackson but it wasn't until Bo's shrinking cock slipped free that Jackson bothered trying to move him.
“Oh, I'm sorry,” Bo whispered when he realized what he was doing.
“Mmmm.” Jackson answered in contentment. He hugged Bo, not wanting to let go. He softly kissed Bo's mouth and got an eager kiss back.
“Wow!” Bo wanted to talk about it. “That was … that was … awesome!” Awesome. Ouch. The word he had found so unsatisfactory when Finn used it. “No, awesome doesn't begin to describe you.” He kissed Jackson again. “Awesome is totally lacking. What a sucky word! Spectacular! Overwhelming! Mind-blowing! The best thing I have ever known in my life!” He kissed Jackson again and then waited for a response.
Jackson stretched his arms wide and gave Bo an I-told-you-so look. “So you like topping, huh? I had a feeling you would.” He snuggled back against Bo.
Bo babbled on about just how much he liked it and Jackson basked in the glow. Such a sweet boy, he thought. He stroked Bo's body enjoying its youth and vigor, and now and then he interrupted Bo's monologue with a kiss. Jackson lay back in utter contentment. With the right inspiration, I really am good at this, That's why they pay me, he told himself.
He drove Bo back to Alameda and returned to the building in Emeryville. He parked the car and buzzed himself into the building. Steve was waiting as the elevator door opened.
“You did it again, didn't you?”
Jackson smiled. The question didn't need an answer.
“He's gonna chew you up and spit you out, Jackson. Just like the last time.”
“He's such a sweet boy,” Jackson sighed.
“They ALL are, idiot!” Steve threw up his hands. “What's his name? You want something to eat?”
“His name is Bo. Yeah, I think I do.”
“Bo … Just your kind of name … There's an extra roast beef sandwich here, if you want it. What about a beer?” Steve asked as he got one for himself. “Mark's coming back next week, you know ...”
“Yeah, Ireland called to let me know. I'm ready.” Jackson still had a dreamy smile on his face.
“You're a fuckin' idiot, but you know that, Jackson.” Steve's voice conveyed the fond but exasperated concern of an ex-lover.
“I'm an idiot. Right ...” Jackson chuckled. “You fly deathmobile helicopters and I'm the fuckin' idiot ...”
Steve shook his head. “You're already in love with him.”
Tom loved his news. He couldn't wait to get home. Heiko would of course be naked on the balcony and … “Heiko? You're fully clothed ...”
“Shh,” Heiko said. “I'm listening to this ...” Heiko was sitting on the sofa watching a talking head on television. He pulled Tom down to sit next to him.
“It's a time to avoid the stock, Maria,” the talking head said. It was a money show on CNBC.
“One day, they love us and the next they hate us,” Heiko sighed. “Only last Tuesday, this same genius said the company was a screaming buy ...” Heiko chuckled as Tom kissed him. “And today, he says we suck. 'It's not an outright short, Maria',” Heiko mimicked and then kissed Tom back. “ 'But the smart money is avoiding it.' So says the expert. And I just exercised some options ...”
“I love you,” Tom said, ignoring financial issues.
“Why?” Heiko shot back.
“For unknown reasons,” Tom said, pulling at Heiko's belt.
“Aus unbekannten Gründen! Tomi, that's what you said. You realize you're speaking German to me?”
“Did I?” Tom has gotten Heiko's belt unbuckled but was having trouble with his zipper. “You know this is all easier when I come home and you're naked on the balcony. There!” The zipper unzipped. “I have to make love to you in English though. I can't say it right in German. It would sound like 'I would urgently like to insert your penile appendage into my oral cavity without encountering any dental protuberances.' How sexy is that?”
“Sexy enough,” Heiko sighed as Tom's tongue took it's first lick on him He raised his hips up and let Tom pull his jeans down.
Tom knelt on the floor between Heiko's spread legs and ran his hands over his thighs. “You have the sexiest hair on your thighs.”
“Uh-oh. Praising my body. I guess I'm about to get fucked,” Heiko grinned, holding Tom's head in his hands and inviting further praise.
Tom frowned. “Am I that predictable?”
“Yeah, a little,” Heiko said with a forthrightness someone else might have hidden. “But I love it, Tomi. Every thing you do is exactly right. I could hand over my life to you and know I made the best choice.” Heiko reflected a second. “That's kind of what I did, isn't it? Given you my life, I mean. All yours. No questions.”
Heiko had a devastating way of looking at Tom, a way that poured out his emotions. It was something in his eyes coupled with his brutal honesty. The depth and breadth of his love always made Tom cry. They had an unspoken deal. Tom pretended he wasn't crying and Heiko pretended not to notice. It left both of them unable to trust their voices, but that was good, too. They made love with their bodies; the words meant less.
“Zsoooo …” Tom exaggerated the German z-sound, “on the way home I got to thinking … why don't we go to Oktoberfest?”
“We could … there's a celebration at Pier 48. I went one year and ...”
“No, I mean go to Munich.”
Heiko's eyes widened but he didn't say anything. Tom wondered if he had miscalculated Heiko's interest. Maybe he'd be ashamed of me, Tom thought. I'm nothing like a Wittelsbach prince, just a dude from El Cerrito. That's probably it. He thinks I'd embarrass him.
“Can we afford it?” Heiko asked tentatively.
“I happened to know the company set records this quarter. Your options are going to pay off.”
“Really?” Heiko sounded doubtful.
“Yes, really! We could afford to go a dozen times.”
“Oh, Tomi!” The clouds parted, the sun shined, and Heiko grabbed Tom so hard something popped.
“I hope that wasn't anything important, like my back ...” Tom joked to a mouthful of hair as Heiko kissed his chest.
“You know Oktoberfest isn't in Oktober,” Heiko bubbled. He kissed Tom's cheek. “It used to be, but the weather sucks in Oktober ...” He kissed the other cheek. “I love you so much.” He wiped a tear off Tom's face and kissed him again.
“Und ...” Tom announced portentously.
“Was?” Heiko demanded.
“The Pinakothek Museums in Munich want to install our system.”
Z was relieved that Craig agreed to the return of the watch but uncomfortable about Craig walking him back to his house after Rory's dinner to get it. He had visions of losing a wrestling match at the front door and getting raped in the hallway. Then he got a semi-chubby at the rape idea and felt even worse about it.
As it worked out, his fears were needless. Craig was, or at least seemed to be completely absorbed in the exercise of walking the few blocks from house to house. He walked at such a brisk pace, Z was winded keeping up. Then he declined Z's invitation inside and waited patiently on the front porch while Z fetched the watch.
“Are you sure I can't talk you into accepting it? Andrew has offered me quite a contract and it's because of you.”
“Knowing Andrew, there are contingencies in the contract,” Z said. “Read the fine print.”
“See? More good counsel. You have actually earned the watch.” Craig offered the velvet case back to Z.
“No, really,” Z affirmed.
“Z, don't be uncomfortable about our night together. It doesn't have to mean anything.”
“Oh, sure. I know that ...” Z answered quickly.
“Not that you weren't amazing, in every way,” Craig added. He looked steadily at Z, making a silent offer. “Ah-hem ...” Craig changed the subject. “To find my way to Cal's house, I walk two blocks this way and then turn left ...”
“Yes, then three more blocks and you're there,” Z finished the directions.
“I'm going to ask Andrew to put you in my next shoot,” Craig said. Then he turned and left.
Z felt the tightness in his chest abate as Craig closed the gate at the sidewalk and turned west. He went inside and turned on the hall lights as he went to the kitchen. He sat at the kitchen table and looked at his phone. After a brief pause, he punched the first entry on his dialer. “Eric, it's Z.”
“Of course it is,” Eric answered. “I knew that. Did you think I'd forgotten? I'm glad you called. I called you earlier, but … Anyway, do you want me to get anything on my way?”
“Your way where?”
“Home … I've got Friday off and I thought maybe we could grill something for dinner ...” There was an edginess that was never in their conversation before.
“Oh … yeah, sure … that sounds good ...”
Eric interrupted, “I love you, Z.”
“I know. I love you, too, Eric.”
“Nothing can change that, Z.” Eric sounded more hopeful than confident.
“Of course not, Eric,” Z replied.
“I wish I were there right now.”
“Me, too.”
“I want to hold you.”
“Me, too, Eric.” Z's answer sounded lame and he knew it; but he didn't know what else to say. He wanted to say, “If you love me, get your ass over here right now.” But that was so unrealistic. It was a long drive. It was close to nine at night. Eric probably had an early morning.
“Can't you say anything else, Z?” Eric sounded pathetic.
“If you love me, get your ass over here right now!” Z yelled.
“As fast as I can, baby. I'm already out the door. I love you, Z. Thirty minutes ...” Eric clicked off.
“Don't get a ticket,” Z said to the dead connection.
“You are running more than I am,” Jerry commented to Neil.
“I wasn't running. I was at Tim's, talking.”
“Rory didn't happen to say what that was for dinner last night, did he? I'd like to try making it.”
“You can bet Rory didn't make it. He tries, but cooking ...” Neil shrugged. “I'm going to take a shower. Is the A's game on?”
“There's a rebroadcast of this afternoon's game. I already know how it comes out,” Jerry said glumly.
“Don't tell me! Don't tell me! La-la-la. I don't want to know ...” Neil laughed as he headed for his room.
Jerry opened a couple beers and set out a bowl of almonds. Bernice had given him the almonds that day at work. She and Cyril had taken their 'winnings' as they called their stock option profits and bought a small nut tree orchard near Vacaville - for the little nuts, as Cyril called his two children. Jerry smiled to himself. The little nuts were cute and could make 'Uncle Jerry' buy them things.
Neil came out back weaing shorts and a gray t-shirt with a herd of pink pigs on it. He loved being called a pig by anybody he had arrested. They watched the game with occasional comments on the play. “They won,” Neil said at the end. “Why did you sound so down?”
“Cause I'd already seen it. Plus now you feel better, expecting that they would lose.”
“Always thinking of me,” Neil joked with a puzzled look. “Well, bed time.”
“Yep,” Jerry agreed. He opened the window in his room and got into the bed. The coolness of a summer night by the Bay filled the room. The sounds of traffic were distant. It was a nice night for sleeping. There was a light tapping on his door.
“Jerry?” It was Neil.
“I'm awake,” Jerry answered.
Neil came to his bed. “Slide over, ok?” Jerry was astonished when Neil got in with him. The parts of Neil that bumped him were naked. Jerry had no idea what was going on.
Neil was very businesslike. “Ok, here goes ...” he cleared his throat. “I love you.” He gave Jerry a very businesslike kiss, long enough that his intention was unmistakeable and short enough that it wasn't sloppy. He handed Jerry something and lay face down resting his head on his folded his arms. “I'd like it if you … if you … fucked me.” Neil lay flat out, expectantly and apparently, as far as Jerry could make out, naked.
“Neil, what is this?”
“It's lube. Use a lot, ok?. Are you hard? Didn't I kiss you enough? I'm new at this.” Neil reached for Jerry prepared to kiss him some more.
“Neil, what the fuck is going on?”
“I talked to Tim. He decided that I love you. I'm pretty sure that I do. And I can't share you. Not with that guy last night and not with a girl either. For denying you any lovelife, Tim said it's my responsibility to keep you satisfied. So I'm offering myself. Tim said that's a very good brand of lube. But still, use a lot, ok? My first time and all ...”
“Are you gay all of a sudden?” Jerry asked.
“No, of course not. Well, kind of. Maybe. For you ... Just you, though ...”
“Really? No shit?” Jerry was unconvinced.
“Tim says there is such a thing as situational homosexuality. Like in prison, where guys like each other. Well, I think that's how I am with you. Except for the prison part.”
Jerry waited for more of an explanation. He got a reaction instead.
“You don't want to do this … Oh, shit. I should have know … Man, I'm so sorry ...Jeez, what an idiot .. I've made a complete fool of myself.” Neil rolled over ready to go.
“Wait!” Jerry kissed him. They let it linger and it did get a little sloppy and a little needy.
“Right now ... as of tonight, you think I'm a fuckin' idiot, don't you?” Neil questioned.
“I've always thought you were a fuckin' idiot,” Jerry said.
“You asshole ...” Neil grabbed him and they ended up hugging. They tried another kiss.
“Do you really want to get fucked?” Jerry asked.
“Jeez, I don't know … Tim said it's the ultimate act. We'd get to it eventually, wouldn't we? So I thought we might as well start there. Are you saying you're hard?”
“Why don't you find out?” Jerry answered.
Neil gently touched Jerry's cock and then held it in his hand. “Man, I've seen you hard before, but … shit … I'm thinking about this thing going in me … suddenly it seems a lot bigger. Use about half the lube, ok?”
“Neil, we don't have to ...”
“Yes, we do. I want to do it for you.”
They did it. It was not a polished performance by either man. Neil gasped in pain at one point.
“Neil, am I hurting you?”
“No, no, keep going ...”
“Bullshit, you're all tense and holding your breath half the time.”
“Use a little more lube, ok?”
When it was over, things were very different. Neil, now the veteran, was relaxed and cuddly, a term Jerry never thought would apply to Neil. “Did you like it?” Neil asked.
“Yeah I did. Did you?”
Neil didn't answer directly. “I'm going to be so much better tomorrow night. You'll see.”
