Page 15

Chapter 15

The one where Jeff gets bossed around.

I’m a wreck by the time I land at the airport. A whole week with Jamie in Nevada, and everything I’ve brought is crammed into my backpack. It feels surreal—terrifying, even—but here I am, trying to keep my shit together as I weave through the crowd toward baggage claim.

Before heading outside, I duck into the restroom to pull myself together. The fluorescent lights are way too harsh, and when I catch my reflection in the mirror over one of the sinks, I almost don’t recognize myself. My hair’s a disaster, sticking out in every direction like I’ve been through a wind tunnel. I run my hands through it, but it’s no use. My eyes are red-rimmed, still puffy from sleepless nights.

God, I look awful.

I let my backpack slide off my shoulder and dig into the side pocket for eye drops. Getting the damn drops in my eyes feels like a circus act, but I manage, blinking furiously until the sting fades. I splash cold water on my face and wipe it off with the sleeve of my shirt, trying to make myself look less like a guy who’s been crying over his ex. It doesn’t help much, but it’ll have to do.

I grip my arms, hoping for some kind of reassurance, but all I feel is how much smaller they’ve gotten. I’ve wasted away these past few months, my once-defined frame now leaner, weaker. The gym feels like a distant memory, along with every ounce of confidence I used to have. I hadn’t felt worthy the last time I saw Jamie, and I sure as hell don’t now.

Jamie said he’d park in the garage and wait for me. The thought sends my stomach flipping. How do I even face him after everything? How do I say hi like this isn’t the most vulnerable I’ve ever felt in my life?

I step outside into the cool, crisp air of March. The parking garage is quieter compared to the chaos of the terminal, but my pulse thunders in my ears as I scan the rows of cars. That’s when I see him—sitting on the hood of his stupid red Mercedes, completely absorbed in his phone.

My heart stumbles over itself, a mix of nerves and adrenaline coursing through me. What am I supposed to say? How do I even begin to act normal? I drop my backpack onto the pavement with a loud thud, and Jamie’s head snaps up. His brown eyes meet mine, and then he’s grinning like I’m the only person in the world.

“Jeff!” he calls out, hopping off the hood of his car.

Before I can even process it, Jamie’s running toward me. He throws his arms around me in a hug that’s so tight it knocks the breath out of me.

“Hey,” I gasp, smacking his shoulder until his grip loosens. “I can’t breathe.”

Jamie pulls back just enough to look at me, his face glowing with that same soft, earnest smile I’ve missed more than I can admit. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Honestly… neither can I,” I say, shaking my head. “You’re messed up, dude.”

Jamie laughs, but there’s something in his eyes—something raw, something vulnerable. For the first time, it really hits me how much he’s kept hidden. Jamie’s been talking about that crush since third grade, but I never fully understood how deep his feelings went. And now I’m realizing I’ve been in love with him for just as long. Maybe longer.

Before I can overthink it, my hand lifts on instinct, my fingers brushing through his hair. It’s as soft as I remember, and the touch sends a wave of warmth through me. “Your hair looks nice like this,” I murmur, my voice quieter than I mean it to be.

Jamie’s eyes widen slightly, his expression shifting into something unguarded. “...What?”

I hesitate. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I really like when you do that,” he says, his voice steady but soft.

Oh, God. His words hit me hard and I pull back, overwhelmed, grabbing my backpack off the ground to steady myself. Jamie leans back against his car, watching me with that same disarming smile.

It takes me a moment to find my voice again. “Let’s go,” I manage, slinging the bag over my shoulder and stepping toward the passenger side. My heart’s still racing.

As we slide into the car, the soft thud of the door closing feels heavier than it should. Jamie starts the engine, glancing at me with that same warm smile he’s been wearing since I landed.

“You know,” he says, his voice light but teasing, “you’re super cute when you’re nervous.”

“What?” I snap my head toward him, feeling the heat rush to my face. “I’m not nervous.”

Jamie’s grin widens, and he glances at me for just a second before focusing back on the road. “Yeah… sure.”

I can feel my ears burning now, and I shift in my seat, crossing my arms over my chest like it’ll somehow shield me from him. God, this is humiliating. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously spot-on,” he quips, laughing softly.

I groan, letting my head fall back against the seat. I feel his hand brush against mine, and before I can process what’s happening, his fingers are threading through mine.

I glance over at him, half expecting him to be joking, but his grip is steady, his expression soft. He doesn’t say anything else—just keeps his eyes on the road, his thumb brushing gently against my hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

I’m frozen for a moment, but then I squeeze his hand back. It’s small, but it feels like a promise, one I didn’t realize how badly I needed.

The rest of the drive is quiet, filled only with the hum of the engine and the steady warmth of Jamie’s hand in mine. And for the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be

We spend most of the day eating, drinking, and playing video games.

I manage to keep things low-key, exactly as I promised myself. I don’t do anything overly flirtatious. We don’t even kiss—not once. We just talk, laugh, and do normal, everyday things. And honestly? It feels like enough.

I decided before I flew out here that I was going to let Jamie take the lead. I’m not going to mess things up this time.

Jamie is… well, for lack of a better word, absolutely fucking adorable. At the convenience store, he casually holds my hand while we pick out snacks, his thumb brushing mine again like it’s second nature. At the bar, he keeps his arm slung around my shoulders, leaning into me while we wait for a table. And then, on the drive home, one of our favorite old songs comes on the radio. Jamie glances at me with this huge grin and starts singing along, speeding up just enough to match the energy of the music.

We’re laughing and singing like idiots when the flashing lights show up in the rearview mirror.

We get pulled over.

I’m bracing myself for the awkwardness of a ticket, but Jamie just… charms his way out of it. He rambles to the officer about how excited he is to have me visiting, smiling like he’s the most innocent person in the world, and somehow, it works. The cop lets him off with a warning. I can’t even be mad. I just sit there, stunned, watching him drive off with this smug little smile. How the hell does he do that?

Later, we’re back at his place, sitting on the couch and playing one of our favorite shooters. I’m absolutely dominating the game, but I can feel Jamie glancing at me out of the corner of my eye. He keeps looking at me—giving me that look.

I try to ignore it. I really do. But it’s impossible not to notice when he keeps sneaking glances, his brown eyes practically glowing with mischief.

I’m not about to lose this game, though. Not even for him.

Then, I feel it—his hand, warm and firm, gripping my thigh.

My fingers falter on the controller, and I glance over at him, caught completely off guard. His stupid, happy brown eyes meet mine, and I’m done for. My focus is gone, obliterated. His hand grazes higher, his touch deliberate and slow, and I can feel my heart racing in my chest.

“…You’re trying to make me lose,” I say, my voice rough.

Jamie laughs, a smug grin spreading across his face. “Oh, I’m making you lose?” His tone is teasing, almost daring.

“Yeah, you are,” I grumble, focusing back on the screen.

“Good,” he says simply, leaning closer and setting his controller down like the game doesn’t matter to him at all—like it’s already over. His lips brush against my neck while I try to play, his warm breath sending a shiver down my spine. I feel his smirk against my skin, the deliberate way he presses closer. His hand moves up to my abdomen, steady and sure, sliding beneath my shirt with no hesitation.

I gasp, leaning back into the couch as my controller slips from my hand and lands beside me.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Jamie murmurs against my ear, his tone smug, his fingers brushing along my skin like he owns me.

Fuck the game.

Jamie’s lips curve into a smile against my neck, his tongue tracing slow, deliberate circles just behind my ear as he breathes me in deeply. His hand squeezes my upper thigh, firm and teasing, achingly close to my hardening length. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and the quiet moan that escapes me makes his smirk widen.

“Didn’t think you’d give up so fast,” he whispers near my ear.

I lean back into the cushion, my thumb brushing absently over his arm in a small, mindless caress. My entire body hums with the same greedy need he stirred in me that night in my apartment back in Los Angeles.

Then Jamie pulls away, and before I can even protest, he’s straddling my hips on the couch, pushing me deeper into the cushion as he kisses me hard, his lips hot and insistent. He nips at my lower lip before pulling away with a grin.

“Why aren't you playing the game, Jeffrey?” he asks, his tone cocky, as if he doesn’t already know the answer. I feel my face light on fire.

I don’t even bother replying, and he laughs softly before moving back to my neck, sucking a line of kisses down to my collarbone. My head falls back as my hands grip his hips, trying to ground myself while he rocks against me, his movements deliberate and maddeningly slow.

“You’re so easy,” Jamie teases, his voice low at the crook of my neck as I slide my fingers under his shirt, desperate to feel more of him. My hands run over the warm expanse of his back, and I shiver at the tickle of his breath on my skin.

Jamie always drives me out of my mind, and right now, he’s pushing me to the edge with every move, every smirk, every calculated touch. I can feel his need too, hot and pressing into my stomach, but he’s clearly enjoying making me squirm.

My hands drift lower, skimming from his back to the waistband of his jeans. I hook my fingers under the hem and tug him closer, my pulse racing as I pop the button open and slide the zipper down.

“And impatient,” Jamie says, arching a brow, but he doesn’t stop me.

“There’s barely enough room,” I manage, slipping my hand between his jeans and underwear. The sound he makes—a deep, needy moan—sends a jolt straight through me, and I grin.

I pull him free, my fingers wrapping around him, but before I can even tug his jeans lower than his mid-thigh, Jamie starts grinding into my hand. His fingers tighten in my hair, his hips moving with a desperate rhythm that matches the fire surging through me. It’s my first time touching him like this, and for a moment, I let myself savor it… memorizing the heat of his skin, the way he fits perfectly against my palm, every detail burning itself into my mind.

“See what you do to me?” he whispers, his tone both sultry and teasing as he watches me through hooded eyes.

When I look up, his gaze is locked on my hand, the heat in his eyes making my pulse race. When his eyes finally meet mine, the raw intensity there sends a thrill through me, and I can’t stop the grin that continues to spread across my face. I lean forward, sliding both hands to his hips, teasingly licking the tip of his cock with my tongue.

“Don’t tease,” Jamie says, his voice low but commanding, and I obey, taking him into my mouth, inch by inch. Jamie tastes warm and addictive, the faint saltiness clinging to my tongue. There’s something clean and raw about it, something him that I can’t quite put into words. It’s overwhelming and perfect all at once, and every second of it pulls me deeper, makes me crave more—makes me want to drown in him.

The soft noises he makes with every movement of my mouth push me closer to the edge, but Jamie never lets me forget who’s in control. His hands thread through my hair, nails grazing my scalp as he guides me, his breaths coming faster with every deliberate move I make to please him.

And then suddenly I gag. Loudly.

I pull back, coughing to the side, my face burning with embarrassment. “Shit. Fuck. I'm sorry,” I mutter, laughing awkwardly.

Jamie chuckles softly above me, his fingers threading through my hair in a gentler, almost soothing rhythm now. “Don’t be sorry, Jeff,” he says, his voice low and warm. “That felt so damn good.” His grin is soft, reassuring, but there’s a spark of mischief in his eyes as he adds, “Keep going.”

I manage a small smile, my confidence creeping back in, and I guide him to my mouth again.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, his voice shaky, almost breathless. His fingers scratch lightly at my scalp, urging me on as his hips find a rhythm with my mouth. He’s throbbing against my tongue, salty and wet, and the taste of him— the feel of him —has me hooked. The sheer intensity of it pulls a groan from deep in my chest.

I can’t take it anymore. I have to get my jeans off.

Reluctantly, I pull away, kissing the side of his thigh before unzipping my pants. Jamie reaches for me, but I gently push his hand away and take him back into my mouth, replacing my hand with my lips as I explore cupping his balls, earning another moan from him.

This time, he’s louder, his fingers gripping my hair roughly. Desperately. He grabs my hand and guides it to his ass, encouraging me to touch him there. I slide my fingers along his skin, teasing, before pressing one against the spot he’s silently asking me to explore. But as I try to push inside, it’s awkward—nothing’s happening.

Jamie chuckles, leaving my mouth for a moment to grab lube and a condom from the coffee table drawer. Was he kidding? Why'd he have that in there?! He shoves it into my chest and I grab a hold of it on instinct. “Here,” he says, his grin teasing. "Be generous."

With the lube, my finger slides in much more easily, and I take a second to let him adjust before moving in time with my mouth. I listen closely for his reactions, adjusting to make sure I’m hitting him just right. I barely settle into a rhythm before I feel him pull back, and without thinking, I lean forward, chasing the connection, only for him to do it again.

“Jeff, stop,” Jamie murmurs, his voice so soft I almost miss it. His hands glide through my messy hair, the touch gentle, but there’s a firmness in his tone now that makes me pause. “Stop,” he says again, more resolute this time, and I pull back, my breath catching as I meet his gaze.

Panic surges in my chest as I pull back, my finger slipping free. Did I hurt him? Did I screw this up? But before the thought can spiral, Jamie leans down, his lips brushing mine in a kiss so soft and deliberate it untangles my nerves. His smile is steady, grounding, but there’s a spark of something unmistakably in control in his eyes.

“I want this,” he whispers, his voice low and certain, the tone leaving no room for argument as his hand slides over the front of my boxers.

I press his hand down with mine, desperate for the pressure, my hips bucking into his touch. I’m so hard it’s almost unbearable, and the needy sound that escapes me is beyond my control.

Jamie chuckles, the sound smug, and tilts my chin up so I’m forced to meet his gaze. “Give it to me,” he says, his voice dripping with playful command.

My breath hitches at his words, my face heating, but the raw intensity in his eyes keeps me pinned. They’re heavy with lust, burning with hunger I’ve never seen before. It’s raw, unfiltered, and it hits me like a tidal wave.

Before I can respond, he leans in closer, his lips brushing just below my ear. “Don’t hold back,” he murmurs, his voice a low, teasing command that sends goosebumps racing over the back of my neck. “I want to see you lose it.” The deliberate edge in his tone makes it clear—he’s not asking.

It takes every ounce of control I have not to fall apart right then and there, my body trembling with the effort. Jamie’s eyes lock back onto mine, dark and intense, and in that moment, it’s impossible to look away. He’s never looked at me like this before, and I don’t think I’ve ever wanted him more.

"Jeff, fuck me . "

I rip off my jeans and boxers so fast it’s probably ridiculous, but I can’t bring myself to care. Holy shit. My heart is pounding like crazy. This is finally fucking happening.

I reach for my shirt next, but Jamie bats my hands away, giving me a look that’s all smug control. He lifts my shirt instead, taking his time, so maddeningly slow it’s like he’s daring me to snap. He tosses it aside casually, his hands sliding over my chest with deliberate intent, like he’s committing every inch of me to memory. My hands grip his hips, sliding up his sides under his shirt. I yank it off in one swift motion and toss it to the floor, my pulse hammering in my ears.

Then he’s touching me, slick and cool, and his hand feels so damn good I let out a groan before I can stop myself. I’ve never been touched like this, and it’s almost too much. I’m so hot, so hard, that his hand feels cold against me, but it just makes me want more.

Jamie shifts above me, guiding me in, and the instant his hand moves away, it’s replaced by something impossibly tight and scorching hot. My brain completely short-circuits. I can’t even think straight. A sound leaves me—a deep, shaky sigh that doesn’t even feel like mine—and Jamie keeps sinking down on me, moving way too fucking slow.

I grip his hips, staring up at him, my chest heaving. How is this even real?

Jamie leans forward, his hands pressing into my shoulders as he takes me all the way in. He lets out this soft, needy moan that makes my stomach flip, and then he starts to move. Slow circles, his hips rolling deliberately like he’s got all the time in the world.

“God, Jamie…” I groan, the words barely leaving my lips.

He starts moving up and down, still slow but steady, his forehead pressing against my shoulder as he groans into my neck. Every sound he makes shoots straight through me, winding me tighter. I know I’m not going to last. I can’t—not like this.

I let him take control, my hands gripping his hips and holding on while he sets the pace. But my hand drifts lower, and when I touch him, I grin. He’s still so wet, practically dripping, and the sight of him, the way he’s moving, the look in his eyes… it’s almost too much to handle.

“You’re so goddamn hot,” I manage, my voice rough and raw. “You have no idea how hot you are.”

Jamie looks down at me, his lips curving into that smug, mischievous smile. He leans in, kissing me slow and deep, like he’s savoring every second, like he has all the time in the world to undo me. Then his lips brush against my ear again, his breath warm and teasing as he whispers, “Why aren’t you fucking me?"

My heart nearly stops.

Without thinking, I slide us further down the couch, my feet planting firmly on the floor as I shift until my back is flat against the seat. Jamie moves with me, his body so perfectly in sync with mine that it feels effortless. When I look up, he’s still staring down at me, his eyes blazing with raw, unfiltered want. It sends a surge of heat straight through me, and I know I can’t hold back any longer.

I give him exactly what he asked for.

Jamie falls forward onto his elbows, bracing himself on either side of my head, and lets out a loud, shameless moan right next to my ear as I move.

God, I could do this forever—make him feel like this.

My hands slide down from his waist, grabbing his round ass hard as I thrust up faster, each motion driven by the sounds spilling from his lips and the sharp rhythm of our skin meeting. His head dips lower, his breath still hot against my ear as he murmurs something I can’t quite catch. My mind’s too clouded, too lost in the feeling of him. Whatever he’s saying, it doesn’t matter. I just keep going.

“Yes, harder,” Jamie finally says, louder this time, the demand clear even though his voice shakes. "There, Jeff. Harder."

I move my hands to his thighs, gripping tight, and start driving up into him harder, faster. He’s right there with me, his body tightening around me as his moans turn into incoherent murmurs between gasps and cries. I can’t make out anything he’s saying anymore—it’s all just noise, perfect and maddening.

And then he clenches around me, his whole body trembling as his hand moves frantically between us, desperate for his release. He moans my name over and over, each breathless cry tearing me apart in the best way. Warmth spreads between us, and I feel him fall apart completely, shaking in my arms as his moan of absolute pleasure rings in my ear like the most perfect melody. His breath eventually slows to ragged gasps, his weight heavy against me as he leans forward, pressing slow, lazy kisses to my neck. I can feel his lips curling into that soft, smug smile again.

It’s all I can take.

I stop holding back, my initial fantasy of having the upper hand, having Jamie at my complete control, claiming him and marking him when I was through by finishing on his back or his chest… None of that happened. Jamie had essentially completely made me his bitch tonight.

I lose complete control at that point, finishing inside him as wave after wave crashes over me. It feels endless, like I’ll never come down, but eventually the fire subsides, leaving me dazed and boneless beneath him.

Holy shit.

We just lay there for a while, both of us breathing hard. Jamie feels heavy on top of me, but it’s comforting—grounding. I wrap my arms around his back, pulling him closer, kissing the side of his head while I catch my breath.

“Thank you,” I mumble into his hair before I can stop myself.

Jamie lifts his head, propping himself up on his elbows to look down at me. His smirk is downright wicked. “…Did you just thank me?”

“Yeah.” It’s dumb, I know it is, but it slipped out anyway. My face burns as I look away.

Jamie laughs, leaning down to kiss me again, smug as ever. “You’re such an idiot,” he says, his voice teasing, but I can see the warmth in his eyes.

And somehow, that makes me feel like the luckiest idiot alive.

Jamie lets out a small laugh, pushing himself off the couch and practically running to the bathroom to clean up. He comes back a few minutes later with a towel, tossing it over my stomach.

“No one’s ever thanked me for that before,” he says, crawling back onto the couch and settling against my shoulder.

We barely fit on the couch like this, my arm hanging awkwardly off the side, but I don’t care. “Well, they should. Because that was fucking amazing.”

Jamie stifles a laugh, rolling his eyes, but I catch the little grin tugging at his lips. I laugh along.

This guy in my arms... Jamie knows everything about me now. It’s mind-blowing to think about, but I know him just as well. I know his childhood, his fears, his ambitions. Every scar, every moment that’s shaped him. I know how impossibly stubborn he is, how he fights tooth and nail for what he wants. I know how confidently he embraced who he was, long before I could even begin to understand myself.

And now, I know how he looks naked, the little birthmark under his thigh, the way his body moves against mine. And I know the way his voice dips when he’s ordering me around, that sultry look in his eyes making it impossible to do anything but exactly what he wants.

“‘They,’ huh?” Jamie interrupts my thoughts, his voice dripping with playful teasing. “That’s just gonna be you from now on, right?”

I finish cleaning up and toss the towel onto the floor, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him close.

Jamie pauses, tilting his head to look at me, one eyebrow raised. “Unless you’re done now.”

“Done?” I ask, a little confused.

“Yeah, like... you got it out of your system,” he says, his tone light but his eyes searching mine.

I grin, running a hand through his messy blonde hair. “Oh, I’m not done.”

“You sure?” he asks, smirking. “This is your chance to bail, dude. I won’t tell anyone.”

There’s something playful in his tone, but his eyes give him away. I see the flicker of uncertainty there, and it makes my chest tighten.

I sit up straight, leaning over him until our faces are inches apart. “I said I’m not done, so quit it.”

Jamie hesitates, then asks quietly, “So what if you get home and feel like this was a huge, embarrassing mistake?”

The way he looks at me—the vulnerability in his expression—burns right through me. I lean in and kiss him softly, letting it linger until his hand reaches up, resting gently on my arm. I pull back just enough to look at him.

What I’m about to say feels so damn embarrassing, but I lean closer, lowering my voice. “Jamie, I love you too. You idiot.”

I throw in the last part to make it sound less corny, but it doesn’t help. Cool.

Jamie doesn’t seem to mind. He wraps his arms around me, squeezing tight, like he’s afraid to let go. I smile, pulling him up so I can hug him properly. We roll onto our sides, tangled together on the couch. I press a kiss to his temple, my heart still racing.

“I get to spend another eleven days with you,” I remind him—and myself.

Jamie shifts closer, getting comfortable, and looks up at me with a soft smile. “Yeah.”

“I’ve never done long distance before,” I admit.

“I know.”

“It’s gonna suck.”

“I know.”

I run my fingers through his hair again, loving how peaceful he looks right now.

“Jeff... just bail,” Jamie says with a laugh.

I pause, then laugh along, swatting his shoulder. “Quit it. You’re stuck with me.”

“Oh yeah?” He raises an eyebrow, his smirk returning.

“Yeah. As in, you’re mine. You’re not allowed to be with anyone else while I’m back in L.A. Or… ever.” My eyes drop to his perfect, round ass, and I can’t resist giving it another firm smack, grabbing him hard enough to make him squirm. “Do you understand that?”

Jamie’s mouth falls open, and he tries not to laugh, but I can see the corners of his lips twitching. I smack him again, failing to bite back an ear-to-ear grin, and he playfully shoves me off the couch, sending me crashing to the floor.

“Ow—damn!” I yelp, rubbing my shoulder.

Jamie leans over the edge, staring down at me. “Jeffrey. Seriously... Be crystal clear. Are you my boyfriend?”

I look up at him, unable to stop the goofy smile spreading across my face as I lay butt-naked on the floor looking up at him. “Yeah, I am.”

“You’re fucking sure about that?”

“I’ve never been more fucking sure of anything in my entire goddamn life.”

Jamie laughs and slides off the couch, joining me on the floor. He pulls me into a deep, slow kiss that leaves me completely breathless, and I let myself sink into it, the world around us melting away.

It’s only when I catch a glimpse of the TV over his shoulder that I notice it—both of our video game characters sprawled out on the floor, the screen flashing a big, bold Game Over. Somber, overly dramatic music plays as the camera pans slowly over the carnage, trying way too hard to make us care.

I smile against Jamie’s mouth, and he does the same, his laugh vibrating against my lips. “Guess we both lost,” I murmur.

“Did we though?” he whispers back, his voice low and full of warmth.

I don’t care what we do for the rest of the night. Right now, I can’t remember the last time I felt this happy. My heart feels free—free of guilt, shame, and worry. All that’s left is love and gratitude for the man who’s always been the other half of me.