Chapter 9: Aftershocks in the Afternoon
The silence in Jake’s room was a living thing, thick with the unspoken words from their talk. Matthew’s head rested on Jake’s shoulder, his ear pressed to the steady, slow thump of Jake’s heart—a rhythm that seemed to contradict the storm they’d just navigated. He could still feel the ghost of Jake’s fingers tracing the line of his spine, a silent apology, a pledge.
“It’s not just about the sex, you know,” Matthew had said, the words feeling too small in the dim light. “It’s about… what this makes us. What do I call you?”
Jake’s answer had been a long time coming. “You call me Jake. That’s all it has to be right now. That’s all I can give.”
It wasn’t enough, but it was something. The acceptance of that lack, the surrender to simple wanting, began to uncoil a heat in Matthew’s belly. The fear diluted, replaced by the solid reality of Jake’s body against his—the smell of his skin, a mix of salt and cheap soap.
Matthew tilted his head up and found Jake’s eyes already open, watching him. He didn’t speak. He just leaned in and kissed him, slowly at first, a testing of waters. Jake’s lips parted with a soft sigh, and his hand came up to cradle Matthew’s jaw, his thumb stroking the cheekbone. It was a kiss that tasted like resolution.
The shift from melancholy to hunger was swift. Matthew’s kisses grew more insistent, his hands sliding under the hem of Jake’s t-shirt, seeking skin. Jake responded in kind, pulling at Matthew’s shirt until they broke apart just long enough to yank the fabric over their heads and discard it onto the floor with the ghosts of Harvard.
They were chest to chest now, the friction exquisite. Jake’s skin was hot, his frame lean and taut under Matthew’s palms. He rolled, pinning Matthew gently beneath him, his dark eyes glittering.
“I want to try something,” Jake murmured, his voice rough. He took Matthew’s hand, brought his index finger to his own mouth, and without breaking eye contact, slipped it past his lips.
The heat and wetness were a jolt. Matthew watched, mesmerized, as Jake’s tongue swirled around his finger, the suction deliberate, obscene. The message was unmistakable. A vivid, terrifying thrill shot straight to Matthew’s groin. He grew hard almost painfully fast.
“Yeah?” Jake asked, releasing his finger with a soft pop.
All Matthew could do was nod, his throat tight.
Jake’s smile was a shadow, but it was there. He moved down the bed with a predatory grace, hooking his fingers in the waistband of Matthew’s jeans and briefs. He tugged them down in one smooth motion, freeing Matthew’s erection, which stood flushed and heavy against his stomach. The cool air was a brief shock, then eclipsed by the heat of Jake’s gaze.
“Fuck, you’re hot,” Jake breathed, almost to himself.
Then he bent his head.
The first touch of Jake’s tongue was a lightning strike. A slow, flat lick from root to tip that made Matthew cry out and fist his hands in the sheets. Jake did it again, slower, savoring, before closing his lips around the head, sucking gently. Matthew’s hips jerked off the mattress.
“Easy,” Jake murmured, his breath hot on wet skin. “Just feel it.”
He took more, his mouth a slick, tight heaven. Matthew watched, dazed, as his own length disappeared between Jake’s lips, saw the strain in Jake’s jaw as he took him deep. Jake’s head began to bob, a relentless, rhythmic suction that overwhelmed Matthew’s senses. One of Jake’s hands cupped his balls, rolling them gently, while the other pressed down on his hipbone, holding him still.
The coil in Matthew’s guts wound tighter, a screaming pressure. He was babbling, “Jake, oh God, Jake, I’m gonna–”
Jake just took him deeper, his nose pressing into Matthew’s pubic hair. The vibration of a low groan from Jake’s throat was the final trigger. Matthew arched off the bed, a broken shout tearing from his lungs as he came, pulses of hot release spurting down Jake’s throat. Jake swallowed convulsively, milking him through the last shudders until Matthew collapsed, spent and trembling.
Slowly, Jake pulled off, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He crawled back up the bed, his own need evident in the hard line tenting his boxers. He kissed Matthew, deep and open, letting him taste the bitter, salty tang of himself on Jake’s tongue.
“Your turn,” Jake said against his lips, his voice wrecked.
Matthew’s heart stuttered. “I don’t… I’ve never…”
“I know.” Jake brushed Matthew’s sweat-damp hair off his forehead. “I’ll talk you through it. Just do what feels good. Okay?”
The trust in Jake’s eyes disarmed him. Matthew nodded, letting Jake guide him down the bed. He settled between Jake’s splayed legs, the intimacy of the position making his face flush. Jake shoved his boxers down, his cock springing free—thick, veined, the head already glistening.
“Touch it first,” Jake instructed, his breath hitching. “Get used to how I feel.”
Matthew wrapped his fingers tentatively around the shaft. It was hot, like iron wrapped in silk. He pumped once, twice, earning a sharp gasp from above.
“Yeah… just like that. Now use your mouth. Just the head.”
Matthew leaned in, his pulse roaring in his ears. He opened his mouth, letting the tip press against his lips before taking it inside. The taste was musky, clean. He flicked his tongue against the slit, tasting the pre-cum there, and Jake cursed softly.
“Good. Christ, that’s good. Now try taking a little more.”
Matthew relaxed his jaw, letting himself sink down an inch, then another. The feeling of fullness was strange, profound. He glanced up. Jake was propped on his elbows, watching him, his eyes black with desire.
“Use your hand with your mouth,” Jake guided, his voice strained. “Like a… fucking yes, just like that.”
Matthew found a rhythm, bobbing his head in tandem with his fist, focusing on the silken skin, the way Jake’s thighs trembled under his palms. His own nervousness began to melt, replaced by a powerful sense of power. He was doing this. He was making Jake fall apart.
Jake’s hand came down to thread through his hair, not pushing, just holding. “You’re a natural, fuck… gonna come, Matt. You wanna taste it?”
Matthew made a desperate, affirmative sound around him, the vibration pulling a ragged groan from Jake.
“Now, swallow it, just swallow it all…”
Jake’s body bowed, his hips giving a final, shallow thrust as he came. The first hot spill hit the back of Matthew’s throat, salty and thick, a taste both foreign and deeply familiar. He swallowed instinctively, pulling Jake through his orgasm until he was soft and spent.
Matthew pulled off, coughing slightly, wiping his mouth. He felt raw, exposed, but a fierce pride burned in his chest.
Jake lay boneless, chest heaving. He reached down, his hand finding Matthew’s, pulling him back up the bed until Matthew was curled against him once more, their limbs tangled, skin slick with sweat and other things.
For a long while, they just breathed.
“See?” Jake finally muttered into Matthew’s hair, his voice slurred with exhaustion and satisfaction. “Not so complicated.”
Matthew knew it was a lie. Everything was complicated. But here, in the warm, sticky aftermath, with the taste of Jake still on his tongue, he could pretend, for a little while, that it wasn’t. He closed his eyes, listening to the heartbeat under his ear, and let the pretend settle over them both.