But Jem helped him into it anyway.Tean’s little grunt when he tried to raise his shoulder made a light flash behind Jem’s eyes, but he kept his face smooth, his smile easy.When he let the sweatshirt fall against Tean’s body, he said, “That looks good on you.”
Tean touched his glasses.He angled his body away.“I wanted something warm.”
Jem made a sound that could have passed for agreement or acknowledgment or anything, really, and began undressing as Tean got into bed.The doc was reaching for one of the books on his nightstand as Jem passed into the bathroom.
The water was still warm, and Jem was quick, and quick again with the towel.He pushed his hair around until it looked decent.He studied his face.He tried a smile.Okay.Okay, okay, okay.And then: I’m going to throw up.
But he didn’t.
He padded back into the bedroom, found a pair of trunks, and pulled them on.When he crawled into bed, the sheets were ice, so he dragged himself over to Tean and lay against him as Tean read.
Ten minutes might have passed before Tean said, “I’m going to turn off the light.”
Jem’s muzzy “’kay” was all he could manage.
The light went out.Tean adjusted the pillows, squirmed around, and eventually stopped moving.He was probably two inches away from Jem, stiff as a board, and Jem guessed he had one cheek hanging off the edge of the mattress.
“C’mere,” Jem murmured, and he looped one arm around Tean and drew him closer, until Tean’s back was pressed to Jem’s chest.Under Jem’s hand, Tean’s heart was racing.Jem kissed his ear.“’s’alright.Go to sleep.”
Tean took a deep breath.And then another.And his heart slowed.
Jem took his own advice.
The dream was of a kitchen with a vinyl tablecloth and worn linoleum.A page Jem had done from aPower Rangerscoloring book hung on the old fridge.The front door was open, and a cold breeze came in from the landing, making the page from the coloring book flap under the Pizza Hut magnet.His feet had been so cold, even though sun filled the window over the sink, flashed on the glass in the oven door, turned everything white.
He woke with a jerk, confused by the darkness after everything had been so bright, his throat tight.Pieces of the puzzle: he was in a bed, a body warm against his, the familiar smell of skin and hair.
And then Tean took Jem’s hand and brought it to his lips.He kissed Jem’s knuckles.Then he kissed his fingertips.Then nothing, in a moment that yawned.And then he took Jem’s index finger into his mouth.
Jem started to harden, his dick still trapped between their bodies, constricted by the trunks.“Hey,” he whispered, and he kissed Tean’s ear again.“Slow down.We don’t have to do anything.”
In answer, Tean’s tongue swirled around the tip of his finger.
The blow job from the other night aside, it had been a long time.And even counting the blow job, a long time since the interest had felt…mutual.Jem was still caught between that place of sleeping and waking, his body loose and warm and relaxed, and it was all so intense, so easy, happening without thought, without even waiting.But he made himself say, “Today was a lot.We can just be here together.”
Tean dragged his tongue along the length of Jem’s finger, and then it popped free of his mouth.Without speaking, he brought Jem’s hand under his sweatshirt until Jem’s fingers touched his nipple.The faint hair there clung to still-wet skin.
Jem rubbed, and Tean’s nipple stiffened.He caught it between two fingers and tugged.Tean made a pleased noise.
“Slow down,” Jem said, but he dragged his beard along the side of Tean’s neck, and he lowered his mouth to Tean’s ear.Tean twisted, trying to get away from the scratch of Jem’s beard and, at the same time, moving into it.When Jem blew out lightly, Tean started at the brush of hot breath, and then he shivered.Jem ground his trapped dick against Tean’s ass.He twisted his nipple harder this time, and Tean moaned.“What are you doing?”Jem asked with a little laugh.“I said slow down.”But then he pinched again, and scraped his beard along sensitive skin, and bit the shell of Tean’s ear.
Tean’s breathing sounded punched out.He brought Jem’s hand down to his dick; the briefs were tucked behind his balls, and pre was slick against Jem’s fingers.Jem stayed just long enough to make sure Tean knew he’d gotten the message.Then he brought his hand back up to Tean’s other nipple and started the process again: light brushes, and then gentle tugs, and then, as his beard rasped along Tean’s neck, those harder twists and pulls that made Tean lose control.
Tean pushed at Jem’s hands.He flipped over.In the dark, Jem couldn’t make out anything except the shape of him, but his breathing was fast and shallow.Tean kissed him—tentatively at first, trying to find him.And then, when their mouths connected, harder.
With a catch to his breath, Tean pulled back and said, “I feel like I’ve been sleepwalking.”
Jem’s eyes stung.He blinked them clear and ran a hand through Tean’s wild hair.Then he cupped the back of his head and brought him into a kiss again.
Somehow, they ended up with Jem leaning over Tean, kissing, touching, hands wandering.Tean kept trying to bring Jem’s hands to his dick.Jem let him.And then he pulled away again, tracing Tean’s leanly muscled thigh, following a jutting hipbone, curving up the small of his back so that Tean arched up toward his mouth.
When Jem tried to kick his trunks off, he fell out of bed.
A thud.And then answering silence.And then, through laughter, Tean trying to ask, “Are you okay?”
Jem hopped to his feet.He flipped on the lamp.Tean shaded his eyes, but he kept laughing, rolling his head away and then back to study Jem.
“I’m fine, thanks,” Jem said as he plucked the trunks from where they still hung around one ankle.