Page 29 of Summer Skin

AVEN WAITS TOabandon the fire pit for as long as he can after Chase slipped away for the night. But by a little before midnight, the need to escape to his room has become overwhelming as Tyler and Ellie drunkenly quote poetry at each other like this is some sort of all-boys private school meet-up in the woods after dark.

Meanwhile, Aven is painfully sober, seeing as that is a key part of his strategy not to slip and fall into Chase Matthews tonight.

Best not-to-get-laid plans and all that.

The bedside lamp is still switched on when he enters the room, and Chase is propped up against a pillow, scribbling away in the little black writing notebook he keeps.

“Hey,” he says as Aven draws near. His eyes go to the empty space on the bed beside him. “I left room for you.” He shrugs, and his cheeks heat, rosy even in the dim golden lamplight. “I figured we could share?”

Aven’s throat works as he swallows. It’s a question he’s been asking himself all night. If he agrees, it’s an opening for them to talk. And a part of him wants that so badly. To finally understand what’s going on in Chase’s head. Why he’s really back in town, because Aven knows beyond a shadow of a doubt it’s not for room and board.

Chase could afford to buy their whole goddamn house if he wanted.

But there’s another side of himself that doesn’t trust being left alone with only six inches of space between him and Chase Matthews in the same bed. It’s the sort of temptation he could do without.

“I mean, we can share if you’re okay with that?” Chase asks.

Don’t do it.

Don’t do it.

Aven Sinclair, don’t you fucking dare.

“Yeah, alright,” is what comes out of his traitorous mouth.

His equally disloyal feet carry him over to the bed.

Aven’s been exceedingly disinclined to show Chase how much he still cares, but tonight he’s gotten a sense that … that Chase still cares too? There was something in the way he stared at Aven across the fire throughout the evening. Like something long unspoken was ready to spill to light.

Once upon a time, Chase had chosen him for who he was behind closed doors. And in those hidden places where Aven let his guard down, he’d opened himself so vulnerably that the only thing he’d been able to do in order to deal with Chase leaving was to completely lock that part of himself up. If they talk to each other, whatever is said tonight, will force Aven to bringing his heart back out on the table to poke at, to dissect like a frog in biology class. But despite the strong instinct to bottle his feelings, this is a situation bound to boil over if left ignored much longer.

And, besides, Aven is ready to know. Why Chase left him.

And why he’s back.

Turning away from Chase, he slips his jeans off and slides into bed. There’s dead silence. If crickets used this room as a refuge, they’d be chirping. Then Chase clears his throat and clicks off the side lamp, plunging them into darkness.

Before he can wait for his eyes to adjust, Aven tugs one of the pillows out from beneath his head and shoves it between him and Chase, a shield made of cloth and feathers. There’s a pause, and he considers the pillow’s positioning, and then slides it farther down until it sits at cock-level.

There.

No way anything can penetrate through that.

Aven waits, barely letting out a breath. Chase is tossing and turning on the other side of the bed, apparently trying to settle into a good position. Aven’s brain helpfully supplies an image of rolling across the pillow, pinning the other man down, and helping him into an entirely different position … on all fours.

Sharing this bed isn’t going to gift him any restful sleep; it’s only going to cause a nightmare. Maybe if he’d leveled up and told his roommates about his shared history with Chase, this wouldn’t even be a thing, and he would be cozied up on the couch right now, watching television and jacking his dick to the thought of his ex in the other room like any normal person.

Finally, Chase sighs and his body stills. Aven wonders what he’s thinking about. If he wants to cross the pillowcase bridge just as badly. He’s a little curious if Chase will actually say something, or perhaps he’s waiting for Aven to start the conversation. Ten more seconds, and Aven will ask to talk.

One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississ—

“On my highest truth I fully swear …”

And there it is, Chase’s opening play.

“That anything said under the glow of the moon …” Aven responds, taking a nibble of the bait.

“Stays in this room,” they finish together. “Forevermore.”

The bed shifts and Chase hesitates. Aven can picture him sucking that plump lower lip into his mouth.

“Come on, Matthews, spill. You’ve got a secret to share?”

“I was just remembering … that first night we shared a bed,” he says, with a short laugh tacked on to the end.

Aven tenses, a little surprised. He wasn’t expecting Chase to go there. “I don’t exactly remember that night as being funny.”

“No,” Chase agrees. “But it was surprising. In a good way.”

That night is eternally etched into the back of Aven’s mind. The first moment he knew the electrifying feelings he had for Chase Matthews were returned.

But reminiscing about the good times isn’t where this conversation needs to go, not if they’re ever going to get past Chase leaving. “What are we doing here, Matthews? You got me into bed with you. So now what? You finally going to tell me what you’re doing hanging around?”

“Aven.”

He knows that tone. The hitch of breath. The self-conscious way Chase wants to say something but can’t quite spit it out.

“Talk to me,” Aven says, hoping the darkness will breathe some courage into Chase. “Please.” He whispers it towards the ceiling, and for a second, it almost feels like a prayer.

Nearly a minute ticks by as he waits for Chase to gather his thoughts. Then suddenly, he reaches out, past the barrier of the pillow, and finds Aven’s hand in the dark.

This isn’t …

Right?

What Aven expected?

What he wants?

“Aven,” Chase breaths again, and he knows that tone too. Could never forget how needy and desperate Chase got for him in bed. “My secret is, I still want you.”

It’s said as a plea and Aven goes instantly hard like there’s an invisible string from Chase’s mouth to his cock. For years he’s tried to keep exactly what Chase is promising him out of his fantasies. Forbidding himself over and over again to jerk off with Chase’s name in his mouth.

But he’s never succeeded in banishing the other man from his filthiest thoughts. Can’t control the memories of Chase’s body, his touch, the way he begged for more.

The way he came so hard every damn time.

“I still think about you,” Chase confesses, echoing Aven’s thoughts.

A soft noise comes from the back of Aven’s throat, and chills electrify his body at the idea of Chase getting off to the memory of them tangled together in bed.

Then Chase’s hand is sliding from his own to the ridges along Aven’s abs, where he pauses for a few beats, making sure it’s alright.

Of course, it’s not alright. None of the insanity of sharing a bed with the ex he never got over is in the same galaxy as alright.

The problem is, Aven can’t stop himself from craving it.

He hears the quick draw of breath when Chase drops his hand and caresses over the obvious bulge in Aven”s boxer briefs. There are little red foxes. On his underwear. Aven thinks for a moment that if he knew he was going to have sex with the estranged love of his life this weekend, he might have picked something sexier to pull on.

Then Chase gives his cock a squeeze and Aven loses all focus on anything other than the sweetness of his touch. The gentle way he’s exploring Aven’s length like he can barely believe any of this is real.

And Aven is right there with him. His eyes are glued through the moonlight to where Chase is touching him, his ears intent on the breathless sounds Chase is making as he rubs Aven’s dick through cloth. And Aven swears, he goddamn swears, he could come just like this.

Like two teenage boys making out in the dark.

Like the boys they once had been.

Then Chase is leaning over him, still working his dick, but inches away from kissing his mouth. An ache twists in Aven’s gut, he’s not ready for that. Not at all ready for that.

A sweet trail of kisses along his jaw, and Aven softens, almost folds right into it, but god. No. This isn’t right. They’re supposed to be talking, not fooling around. They need to talk. There’s still so much to be said.

“Stop,” he says faintly, fingers gripping around Chase’s wrist. “I need you to stop.”

Chase pulls away immediately and every fiber of Aven’s being screams to tug him back. To lie him down and take Chase in all the ways he’s missed for so long.

Aven pushes up from the bed.

He needs space before he does something he’ll regret.

“Do you not find me attractive anymore?” Chase leans back against the headboard. He’s looking at Aven with such a hesitant and vulnerable expression, and it’s not at all fair when he’s the one who created the cavernous rift between the two of them.

“Of course I find you attractive,” Aven admits, hands thrown in the air. “But fuck, Matthews, do you really think it’s that simple? Maybe we should actually have a conversation here? I needed some time to digest seeing you again, but, like, don’t you understand this entire living together shit is a little fucking insane? And you still haven’t told me what you’re doing here! I don’t know how long I can keep doing this. I mean, do you?”

Aven huffs out a breath and waits, but Chase is silent like the cat got his tongue. Then finally, “I’m not going to be around for long,” he mumbles and won’t meet Aven’s eyes.

Oh. Oh shit. Suddenly one horrific terminal illness after another flies into Aven’s head. “What do you mean by that?” he asks slowly.

“I’ll only be in Seattle for the summer.”

Christ, he’d nearly given Aven a heart attack. But it figures, Aven’s only a nostalgic pitstop on Chase’s ride back to real life.

“Well,” Aven says, arms crossing over his chest, “taking off is your specialty.”

Chase nods, like he knows he deserves that. “I’ve been invited to tour with Slither Fox.”

Another shitty band climbing the charts that Chase is way too good for. Would he ever realize how talented he really is?

“Do my roommates know about this?” Aven demands. “Did you bother telling them you’re not sticking around when you interviewed for the room?”

“Okay, so.” Chase stands, moving towards him with placating hands like Aven’s some out of control toddler who needs to be talked down from a tantrum before naptime. “The thing is, Aven, you see … I didn’t actually mean to interview for the room.”

Aven drops one foot back, widening the divide. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

A small noise leaves Chase’s mouth. Aven can’t see his expression clearly by moonlight, but there’s definitely tension in his body language. “I looked you up on whitepages,” he begins. “Found your address and drove by maybe a dozen different times. When I finally got over myself enough to ring the bell, I was kind of fucked up about it, you know?”

If it was anything like what he’d felt seeing Chase again after so long, Aven could take a guess.

“Your roommates answered the door together in a group. Like some sort of weird sitcom. I didn’t even get a chance to ask if you were in. Veena wanted my name. Ben told me I was handsome. Tyler asked if I played the guitar. They pulled me into the living room and shoved me onto a chair while they fired away. It took a minute, but I finally gathered they thought I had an appointment for the room and …”

“You let them believe it.”

He nods. His skin is flushed blue with midnight. “It was all a little overwhelming, but I was planning on leaving the hotel I’d been living out of and renting a place anyway. I thought maybe having roommates could be a good thing. It’s … I’d been lonely since I got back.

“I also guessed you must have moved out, if you’d ever lived there at all. Not like the whitepages is exactly Sherlock Holmes. Your name wasn’t mentioned until after I’d moved in, and at that point I thought fuck it, in for a penny, in for a pound.”

“Fuck it,” Aven repeats dryly, like that was a good enough reason for Chase to turn his entire world upside down.

Chase rubs a hand behind his neck, going on. “I only got the offer to tour the other day. My attorney needs to negotiate a few more specifics, but if they can agree to what I’m asking for, I’ll take the job. And I’ll be out of your hair once summer is over.” His eyes flick to Aven’s. “Unless you need me to leave now?”

A sharp splinter of pain shudders through Aven that he doesn’t want to examine too closely. “Why?” he asks, brow wrinkling. Still, his biggest question. “Why did you want to see me at all? After all these years, why now?”

“Because …”

Long seconds go by in which Aven waits with the patience of a child, but Chase only shakes his head a little, like the words won’t come out.

“Come on,” Aven coaxes, “talk to me.”

More silence, and then, “Because I miss you, okay?” His voice sounds tight. “We never got a chance to say goodbye. I never got any closure.”

It takes a few heartbeats but then the words land like a smack straight to his chest. Hit so hard Aven’s head snaps back. He takes a step towards Chase in the dark.

“You never got closure? You? Chase, you left me out of fucking nowhere like nothing we had ever mattered!”

“I know. And I’m—”

“Like I didn’t matter. Like you weren”t my first and only love, for fuck’s sake!”

If Chase only knew how much of Aven’s soul was twined around his. If he could just see himself through Aven’s eyes, back when they were in love. The way he would have done anything Chased asked to stay by his side. How quickly his pulse raced watching Chase with a pen between his lips, guitar on his lap, eyes to the sky as he conjured into being another song, like it’d belonged on earth all along. His eyes forever bright as stars when Aven walked into a room, the way he always laughed at Andi’s jokes, even when they weren’t really funny at all. The promises to stay just a little bit longer every time Aven asked, covering Aven’s body with his own, whispering dirty wishes into his ear.

“You did matter to me, Aven. You still do.”

The way he’d left and shattered their love without looking back.

Until now.

“Liar,” Aven hisses, stepping to Chase, chest-to-chest. “Liar! If I mattered to you, you wouldn’t have waited five fucked-up years to fix what you did. You missed things while you were gone, Matthews. Important things! Like Andi dropping out of Stanford and coming home, realizing they’re nonbinary and winning an award from Seattle Art Museum for their art. You missed me … you missed me completely falling apart without you because I loved you more than anything, anything, and you don’t fucking get what I went through when you just vanished like a ghost in the night.”

Aven’s chest heaves, he swallows back the tears that want to fall because holy shit, this is so fucking much to let out all at once. He tries to grasp onto techniques Andi taught him to calm down, but the thunderous river of feelings roaring through his skull drowns out the memory of their voice.

All he can feel thrumming through his entire body is the intensity of pain he’s shoved down for way too long.

“You left me,” he spits, thumping his chest. “I fucking … I let my guard down with you. I let you in. Thought it was safe to be myself, and you left. You missed everything, everything!”

With a start he realizes his palm is spread out over Chase’s heart. Can feel the thump-thump, thump-thump of the other man’s pulse racing like mad. Aven huffs out a breath, angry at the way his body will never stop trying to find a way back to him.

“I’ve thought about it a lot,” Chase tells him. “Wanted to apologize. I tried so hard to do what I thought was right at the time.”

“What was right?” Aven clenched his hands, fingernails digging into his palms. “You left. You left me! When you were what mattered most. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t believe love exists at all. You made me feel like … you made me feel.”

“Aven,” he says. His voice is wet. There’s undeniable grief in his tone. But fuck that. He wasn’t the one left behind without a single word—not even the measly courtesy of a Dear John. Chase doesn’t know how greatly Aven suffered not knowing where he’d gone, or why, until one day a text from Andi appeared with a link to Chase joining Paranormal Romance on tour, and that was how Aven found out he’d been dumped for a band.

“I’m sorry,” Chase pleads, and a bolt of misery shoots through Aven in a way that rattles his chest. Enough of this. Enough. It’s dizzyingly overwhelming to feel everything he tries so hard to forget, all at once.

“Shut up,” he snarls. “You’re not sorry. Don’t say that when you don’t fucking mean it!” His fists tangle in Chase’s t-shirt before he can think twice, and he spins the other man around, backing him up against the wall.

Tears stream down Chase’s face. He’s shaking nearly as hard as Aven, probably pumped up on adrenaline from a conversation they needed to have five years back. The raw agony of hurt tucked away for far too long, waiting to explode. Their breath races to match each other’s, and the longer Aven stares at Chase’s tearful, beautifully wrecked face, the more he wants to believe him.

Chase inhales shakily. “I didn’t realize how much pain it would cause. I know it wasn’t fair to make that decision without talking to you first. I was terrified you’d talk me out of it, and if you did, our relationship would wither and die.” He scrubs a hand across his eyes. “I had nothing. I was nothing, we never would have lasted, Aven. I thought I was doing what was right for both of us.”

“How could you ever think it was right to throw away everything we had?”

His face crumbles. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Aven. I didn’t realize how badly I’d hurt you or I never would have stayed away this long. Please,” he begs, “please let me make it up to you. I’m here now.” His hands tentatively reach out, resting on Aven’s shoulders. “I’m here, okay?”

A breath in, then out, and Aven searches his eyes, only finding truth. Feels an insistent tug throughout his body pulling him towards Chase. What’s more, he doesn’t want to hold onto this agony and anger any more.

Doesn’t need to carry the mental anguish that holds space with Chase’s name written all over it.

It’s time to let go.

For both their sakes.

Aven inhales a shaky breath, and nods, pulling Chase into a hug. There’s a tense moment where their bodies aren’t sure how to react to each other and then Chase sinks into him, clutching at the back of his neck, a hand fisted into his hair. Holding on. And all the fury of fight, all the misery of feeling so terribly unwanted, flows from Aven’s body as he grabs on tight to the other man.

A litany of apologizes brush across Aven’s throat. He lets each one seep deep into his bones, lets Chase burrow closer and closer into his chest. He can’t pinpoint the exact moment when the adrenaline coursing through his body transmutes into desire—but the feel of Chase, so warm and willing, so soft in his arms, is something he’s never had the power to resist.

“Aven,” Chase whispers, a note of need in his tone, and Aven can feel the response of his own body echoed in the hard press of Chase’s cock against his thigh.

He drives forward, letting Chase feel him too, and there’s a breathy little gasp, then a moan as Aven brings their cocks together, circling his hips.

Threading his fingers through Chase’s hair, he tilts the other man’s head back to look into his eyes. “Can I touch you?”

“Yes,” Chase says immediately, a certainty in his tone. “Do it, touch me however you want.”

His mouth falls open at the first caress through his underwear. Aven traces a single fingertip from the base of his cock to the crown. And when he runs the palm of his hand up and down the weighty length of Chase, he says, “Aven,” inhaling a stuttering breath, “god.”

Slipping a hand down Chase’s briefs, he wraps a fist around his dick, and Chase whines high in his throat. He’s so easy to work up. He’s always been so easy.

His dick is already leaking, and all at once, Aven’s desperate for a taste of that sweet, golden honey in his mouth, wants to suck Chase all the way down until the only thought left in his head is more.

Sliding to his knees, he pulls Chase’s shorts down with one quick tug. “Oh fuck,” Chase groans, and his head thumps back against the wall.

There, right in front of him, is Chase’s thick, beautiful dick. Even more gorgeous than Aven’s memory allowed. Plump and flushed, twitching to be touched.

Aven thumbs over the slit, collecting pre-come, tracing it over the swollen head. Hands running up the back of Chase’s strong thighs, his fingers dig into the flesh of his ass, squeezing as the other man’s breath comes in shallow pants from above.

“Aven,” he says. Repeating it over and over again, like the name will somehow ground him to the earth.

But Aven’s gonna make him fly.

His nose nudges at the space where cock meets groin. The soft, dark hair he finds there. Not trimmed, still wild, like it’s always been. He breathes in. The scent of Chase is so strong here. Familiar in a way that makes his chest ache.

He pulls back, gaze rising to find Chase staring down at him with a look painted red with lust. “Please,” he murmurs. A shiver runs through his body. “Please, Aven.”

The first taste on his tongue, and it’s a good thing Aven’s already on his knees. A feeling he’s missed clicks into place deep inside his chest, the thrill of turning Chase on.

He starts off slowly, exploring, licking around the slit and tip, rolling Chase’s balls in one hand. But tonight, he has no real patience for foreplay, and he moves on quickly, sucking and slurping until his mouth is stuffed full of hard cock.

And Chase loses his goddamn mind.

Moans so loud Aven pulls off for a second to give him a warning look. “Don’t let the others hear,” he warns, jacking his dick in long, rhythmic strokes.

“Aven, I’m not gonna last long. I—”

Grabbing his ass, Aven takes him back inside, fucking his mouth on Chase’s cock, making Chase pant his name on every thrust.

“I’m gonna come. Aven, I’m gonna—”

He goes off in Aven’s mouth, and Aven swallows, the way he always did for Chase, and takes his own throbbing cock in hand. “Let me, let me,” Chase pleads, sinking to the floor, swatting Aven’s hand to the side.

It’s over embarrassingly fast, one look at Chase Matthews on his knees, Aven’s cock between his lips, sucking on it like this dick is the best thing he’s ever put in his mouth. When he comes, Chase’s eyes lock on him in a way that’s so intensely intimate he feels their connection just as surely as a touch.

Chase eagerly swallows Aven’s load and slumps back against the wall, trying to catch his breath. For a moment longer, Aven watches him, and then a ping of unease makes him look away.

It’s silent as they both come down, the urgency of closeness evaporating into the quiet of the night. With the whoosh of heat leaving his body, Aven’s left feeling cold, chills of instant regret crawling like spiders across his arms.

This was the worst thing he could have done.

Chase is leaving. He said he’s leaving. Again.

There’s no future for the two of them.

Aven’s good at separating sex from emotions. Great at it, actually. There’s only one person on earth who’s ever had his heart and body at the same time.

Hooking up with Chase and reactivating those feelings of obsessive desire is emotional self-sabotage.

Destructive.

Unhealthy in a way Aven thought he’d outgrown by now.

There’s no one he’d rather feel wrapped around him. No one his body craves to touch and taste, to give and take from more than Chase.

He can’t imagine there ever will be in this lifetime.

But he also knows how fiercely painful it is to be left behind. He knows himself, and he knows Chase, and he can see exactly what will happen if they go down this road together a second time.

“This can’t happen again,” he decides. “There’s no point.”

“But—”

“You’re leaving in a couple of months.”

“I could—”

“Nah, let’s not make it difficult for either of us this time around.” He rubs at the back of his neck. “Just … thanks for the apology. For real, I needed that.”

“Aven, I meant it completely and if there’s anything I can—”

“Goodnight, Matthews.”

Like he already said, there’s no point. Chase is only here for the summer and then he’s gone.

Probably forever this time.

Aven makes a straight line for the bathroom where he locks himself inside. He turns the temperature of the shower up so high it flushes his skin red.

He lingers for as long as he can, letting the spray of water wash all of his foolish desires down the drain.