Page 45 of True North
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They did shower eventually, with much kissing and groping, and drifted downstairs to eat leftovers and grapes out of the fridge. JT hadn’t bothered to put a shirt on, and Misha couldn’t stop looking at him, at all the places he now knew were wonderful to touch. But JT was looking a lot, too, so Misha didn’t feel too self-conscious about his staring.
When lunch was finished, they considered each other across the island, wordlessly asking what came next. Misha’s usual afternoon activities felt alien to him now, or out of reach in some way. How could he go on with normal life when he knew what JT’s mouth tasted like? He was a new Misha, not the same boring guy who did English homework and played video games.
“Want to watch a movie?” JT offered after a few moments of awkward silence.
“Only good movie,” Misha said.
“You’re cute,” JT said, and laughed when Misha blushed.
Misha didn’t actually care what they watched. He let JT pick and busied himself instead with making a nest on the couch, fussing around with the recliner blanket until he had it arranged to his satisfaction. When JT was done with his lengthy process of choosing a movie, putting the DVD in the player, and pushing buttons on both remotes, he turned toward the couch and smiled when he saw Misha tucked beneath the blanket. “You look cozy.”
Wordlessly, Misha lifted one corner of the blanket to invite JT to nestle up beside him. JT’s expression shifted into a warm fondness that both embarrassed Misha and thrilled him. He knew he was being shameless, but JT wasn’t telling him no.
They sat side by side as the movie started, curled together under the blanket. After a few minutes, to Misha’s delight, JT shifted around to draw his legs up on the couch and lean against Misha’s side with his head resting on Misha’s shoulder. Tentatively, proud and pleased, Misha wrapped his arm around JT’s shoulder and held him close. JT wasn’t going to act like nothing had happened or pretend they were still only friends. He was willing to go with Misha into whatever new place they were heading.
As the movie went on, JT’s hand began wandering. He started at Misha’s thigh, aimlessly picking at the inseam of Misha’s basketball shorts, then moved on to toy with the drawstring. Soon his fingers crept beneath the hem of Misha’s T-shirt and began stroking his belly. Misha found it increasingly difficult to focus on the movie, not that he had much of an idea of what it was about in the first place since the plot was conducted in a deafening combination of shouted English and explosion noises. He focused on keeping his breathing steady as JT traced shivery patterns on his skin.
“Misha,” JT whispered. He wriggled closer and pressed a light kiss to JT’s neck. “Are you watching?”
“Yeah,” Misha lied. “Good movie.”
“Hmm,” JT said. He kissed Misha’s neck again, open-mouthed, and slid his hand between Misha’s thighs to cup his dick. “If you’re sure.”
Misha had backed himself into a corner. He had to sit there and stare at the TV as JT began playing with his soft dick through his shorts, massaging him like a stress ball. The slippery fabric transmitted every motion of his fingers with deadly effect. No amount of willpower would have been enough. Misha got hard in about thirty seconds.
Still, he didn’t give in. He set his jaw and fixed his eyes on the TV screen, even though he had no idea what was happening at this point. A car was on fire, somehow. JT was practically straddling Misha’s thigh and Misha could feel every centimeter of JT’s erection. Only stubborn pride kept him from pulling JT down onto the couch and abandoning the movie altogether.
He broke at last when JT outright slid his hand into Misha’s shorts to touch his dick. He groaned and wrapped his hand around JT’s wrist. “Okay. Okay! You so trouble.”
JT laughed against Misha’s neck. “You held out longer than I thought you would.” He gave Misha’s dick a gentle squeeze. “If you really want to watch—”
“No.” Misha turned his head to press an awkward kiss to the side of JT’s face. “I don’t care about movie. I want—” He broke off with a sharp inhalation as JT jacked him slowly.
“I want to fuck,” JT said in a low voice. He sat up and raised his eyebrows at Misha. “You good for twice in one day?”
Misha scoffed. He wasn’told. “Yeah, it’s good, get stuff.”
JT laughed and got off the couch, adjusting himself in his sweats as he went. Misha rested his head on the back of the couch as his ears tracked JT’s progress: upstairs to the bedroom, then quickly back down the hallway. He felt light-headed from how hard he was, as if all the blood in his body had pooled in his crotch. JT’s desire was flattering but also a little overwhelming. No one had ever wanted Misha so much, or at least been so open about wanting him.
JT came back into the room holding a wrapped condom in one hand and a small bottle in the other, presumably lube. He dropped both on the couch beside Misha and bent to kiss him, a slow kiss with his hands cradling Misha’s face, in contrast with his earlier urgency. “Hey,” he murmured against Misha’s mouth before kissing him again. “I’d like to ride you.”
Misha shivered. “Yeah, okay.”
JT stepped out of his sweatpants. Unselfconsciously naked, he opened the condom and crouched on the floor to roll it onto Misha’s dick. When Misha moved to push his shorts the rest of the way off, JT stopped him with a touch to his wrist and said, “Keep everything on.”
Misha’s dick throbbed as JT straddled him on the couch and opened the lube. JT coated his own fingers and reached behind himself, clearly prepared to handle the entire situation himself and use Misha as a convenient appendage. Misha didn’t necessarily object, but he also reallywantedto participate, to feel like he, specifically, could make JT feel good. He grasped JT’s slippery fingers and said, “I can do?”
“Oh—if you want. I don’t need much, just some lube.” JT looked a little surprised but not displeased. He rested his hands on Misha’s shoulders and balanced himself there as Misha fooled around with the lube. It was a great position for Misha to greedily watch JT’s expression as he stroked his wet fingers over JT’s hole.
JT opened for him just as easily as he had before, with much contented sighing and chewing on his lower lip. Gazing up at his cheeks as they slowly flushed pink, Misha would have been happy to do only that for as long as JT would let him: the whole afternoon, the entire next week. But after only a few minutes, JT said, “All right, that’s—that’s good.”
“I do more,” Misha offered, still deeply enjoying the tight cling of JT’s body around his fingers, and JT’s quiet noises and the way he rocked his hips.
JT squinted at him. “You’d rather finger me than put your dick inside me?”
Well, when he put it that way.