Tempting Him by Isabel Lucero

31

Tuesday goesby and besides a couple glimpses of Jay through the halls, I don’t see much of him, and I never get to talk to him prior to leaving for a meeting before the end of the day. He reaches out to me while he’s studying, and we text back and forth for a little while before he disappears into his studies.

Wednesday is nothing but stress when it comes to my job, keeping me occupied while I put out fires with numerous calls. Jay has a community service job with his frat that evening, so we hardly talk.

I find myself just waiting for Friday to roll around, because that’s when we get most of our time together, but that means a week will have been lost before I’ve even been able to talk to him about everything I’ve thought about regarding us. I wanted to be better. I wanted to attempt more. And now we’re almost down to two weeks.

“Is it weird that I just want to lay with you?” Jay asks when he calls me Friday evening. “I’m finally done with my work, but now I just feel stressed and tired and I think only you can make me feel better.”

I smile. “It’s not weird. Come over and I will make you feel better.”

“Mm. Sounds like a little more than laying down, but I think I’m up for it.”

“I don’t mind just laying together. I’ve been wanting to talk to you, anyway.”

“Uh-oh.”

I laugh. “It’s not bad. Come on. I’ve missed you.”

Silence sits heavy between us. It’s the first time I’ve said that, though not the first time I’ve felt it.

“Okay. I’m coming.”

Half an hour later, Jay’s at my door, and when I let him in he steps forward, wrapping an arm around my waist as he kisses my neck. I put a hand on his lower back, keeping him close before encasing him in my arms completely.

“Oh, you missed me, missed me.”

I snort. “Shut up.”

“Let’s cuddle,” he says, taking my wrist and tugging me to the couch on the balcony.

Outside, I sit in the corner of the small sectional, one leg outstretched on the cushions as Jay settles between my thighs, his back to my chest as his long legs stretch to the end of the couch. He wiggles and then rests his head on my chest.

“This is nice.”

I rest a hand on his hip before moving it down to caress his upper thigh. “I agree.”

We sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before he speaks up. “What did you want to talk about?”

I clear my throat. “Well, I’m not too sure how to begin, but you know how I told you I’ve been doing some self-reflecting?”

“Yeah.”

“I want you to know that what you said about internalized homophobia really hit home and whether that’s what it is, or just self-hate, something is definitely affecting me, and I’ve made appointments with a therapist back home. I’m wanting to be better.”

He grabs my hand and squeezes. “I’m happy for you.”

“I also have a confession.”

“Should I be scared?”

“No,” I answer with a chuckle. “Remember when you came over while you were drunk?”

He groans. “Mostly.”

“Do you remember when you said you’d never look at me differently?”

“Yeah.”

“It made me think. You’ve done so much. Everything I’ve told myself I’d never do for whatever dumbass reason I thought made sense, and not once, ever, did I think of you like I’ve assumed I’d think of myself. My dad called me a bitch, a sissy, and many other awful things I don’t want to repeat. I’ve been doing or not doing whatever I thought would keep me from being those things. I realize the ignorance, but those thoughts are threaded in my brain.”

Jay shifts, turning to face me. “It is ignorant. Bottoms in male/male relationships shouldn’t be demeaned and called names. I’m aware of the stereotypes. I know people assume one person has to be the ‘woman’ in the relationship, and therefore they’re supposed to be effeminate and whatever,” he slices his hand through the air, annoyed. “But there’s no one way to be in a queer relationship.”

I take his hand. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ve not been the best version of myself, and to be honest, I don’t know what that is yet. I just hope to get there. But you were right, I’ve never had any negative or bad feelings about you. In fact, I’ve felt jealous. I’ve wished numerous times to be more like you.”

“I’m glad you’re like you, though.”

I grin. “I’m glad you like me despite my flaws.”

“What was the confession?”

“Oh.” I feel my cheeks heat slightly. “I kissed you.”

His eyes bulge. “What? When?”

“That night. When you were drunk.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“It sounds a little creepy now that I say it.”

He shakes his head. “Help me understand.”

“You were asleep, laying on my chest. I turned my head and kissed your forehead. Nothing too crazy.”

“I missed a forehead kiss?”

I grin. “After I did it, everything felt right. There wasn’t any sort of negative reaction. I felt happy. I wanted to do it again, but I wanted you to be conscious. And it made me regret not having done it sooner, but the reason was two-fold. On top of my own issues, I assumed a lack of intimacy would make it easier to end things.”

“It’s not gonna be easy, Alek.”

I shake my head. “No, it’s not.”

My heart thumps in my chest as I stare at his lips, ready to kiss him properly. Time freezes around us, the cars below go quiet, and it’s only us. He doesn’t move, probably waiting for me, hoping I don’t get cold feet.

When I lean forward, he does the same. I watch him closely as the distance between us disappears, and when our lips are a hair's breadth away, I shut my eyes and press my mouth against his.

His lips are soft against mine, and our moans blend together, creating a bliss-filled symphony as we come together for the first time.

My heart pounds in my chest, wanting to leave my body and join his, like it knows it belongs with him.

We shift, our bodies moving while our mouths don’t steer far from each other. He’s down on his back as I hover over him, kissing him softly at first, before I slide my tongue between the seam of his lips and into his mouth.

Jay makes a noise as he exhales, his hands around the back of my neck. Our tongues twist and twirl, dancing to the music we make with each moan, hum, and gasp we expel.

My cock hardens against his and I thrust my hips as I taste the mint from his tongue. He cradles the side of my face, sucking on my tongue briefly before mashing his lips against mine.

Everything is perfect until the loud knock on the door snaps us apart.

“That was amazing,” I tell him, leaning down to kiss his lips again.

“You’ve always enjoyed my mouth.”

“Now I can enjoy it in another way.”

The knock comes again, so I stand up and adjust myself.

“Looks like you might need help with that.”

“We can do plenty as soon as I get rid of whoever’s at the door.”

“Good, because we have a lot of time to catch up on, and I’m nowhere near being done with that mouth of yours.”

I wink at him as I step away and into the open sliding glass door. It doesn’t take long to walk across the living room and kitchen, and soon, my hand’s on the knob.

Two things happen simultaneously: I open the door, and Jay steps inside and says, “No, wait!”

But it’s too late, the door is open. I turn to face him and see panic written all over his face as he holds his phone, the screen lit up like he was reading a message.

“Alek,” Cal’s voice says before he sees past me and spots his son. “Jay? What the hell is going on?”