Character Bleed Book 2: Stalwart

Chapter 1: Day 17, Night-4

“I can do that.” One stroke, another, assertive but not enough to hurt; they were both paying attention. Colby’s arousal slid through the circle of Jason’s hand, up and down; the tip, flushed and dark, grew wet with want. Jason leaned in more, kissed his shoulder, vowed against that ear, “I’d love to do that. You said you like denial…waiting…being good…so I’d touch you, play with you, get you all on edge and ready, and then stop, because we wouldn’t do that, not in public, not when you’re all well-behaved and proper and professional…”

“Oh God,” Colby said, though this was less a sentence and more of a gasp. “Yes, Jason, please…”

“And you and I both know you’d be thinking about me taking you back to your trailer and getting a hand on you and making you come on the spot, in your pants.” Faster, not rough but clearly in charge, claiming Colby’s desire with the caresses. “Because you want it so badly. Because you can’t wait. Because you know I want you to. Just letting go, letting me tell you when and where, letting me make you feel good.”

“Jason,” Colby begged. “I—I—this feels—”

“You want me to do that now? Get you off like that?”

Colby bit that lower lip again.

“Or not,” Jason said. “Anything you want. Or don’t want.”

“It’s more that I want you,” Colby explained. “I want to—to feel what it’s like with you inside me. And if you continue doing this I am going to, ah…”

“Come for me,” Jason filled in helpfully. “In my hand.”

Colby shivered a little, head to toes: a shimmer of want, painted in stray freckles and honeyed lamplight and shining beaded-up drips of need. “Yes.”

“And you want me to f**k you.” He rubbed a thumb across the tip of that nice stiff c**k, liking the eager wetness; Colby whimpered. “You like being mine.”

“I am,” Colby whispered. “I already am.”

Jason had to close his eyes at that. To breathe in, and breathe out: letting the thrill and the weight and the awe land square and solid in his chest. A part of his heart, now.

He opened both eyes. Looked at Colby. “I want to make this amazing for you.”

“Please,” Colby said. “Please take care of me.”

Colby had said more than once that Jason knew what to say. Jason, one hand playing with Colby’s hair and the other fondling Colby’s c**k, thought that the opposite was true: Colby Kent, made of blue eyes and bravery and bruises, had all the right words. Exactly what Jason had always wanted: someone to cherish and care for and be good to.

His body craved closeness. Covering Colby, plunging into him, accepting that charge and that sweetness: yes. God, yes.

He kissed Colby again because he didn’t have a better way to express all the feelings. Colby promptly kissed him back: welcoming, shyly flirtatious, accepting Jason’s claiming of the initiative and also pleased about it.

Jason could’ve kissed him for hours. Days. Decades. Whole historical eras. Drinking in that fabulously complicated combination of surrender and anticipation and surprises and stories.

He stopped long enough to swear out loud. “You, um. We. f**k. I don’t have any, um—”

“I do.”

“You what?”

Colby blushed everywhere. Pink right down to the freckle on his collarbone. “Left trouser pocket. I, er. I did think perhaps I’d ask you to—to do this with me. I wanted to. So when we went off to get dressed after shooting, I asked Andy. Who said, and I quote, hell yeah, climb that mountain, and also that I should ask him if we ever need to borrow a feather boa.”

Jason couldn’t bottle up the laughter, mostly because Colby was so goddamn fantastic. Preparation and forethought and flawless comedic delivery. While naked in bed. And smiling.

“The even more entertaining part was,” Colby finished, “he didn’t in fact have anything on hand—Adrian’s still at home in Los Angeles—and he told me to wait right there and then he ran away and ran back and quite literally threw things at me and then cheered. I’m not certain I want to know how he acquired them. In any case, the point of this story was that I’ve got…well, supplies.”

“You’re perfect and we owe Andy a drink. Stay put. Left pocket, you said.”

“I did.” Colby propped himself up on elbows, shamelessly observing Jason’s sprint across the room. “I would rather…er…that is, about using condoms. If you would. I haven’t been with anyone since—well, since. And given that he’d been cheating on me, I did go and get properly checked out. And I’d trust you if you said everything was fine; it’s only that…”

“It is and I’m glad you trust me, but I get why you’d worry. I don’t mind.” He came back over to the bed, sat down next to Colby. He had a handful of condom packets and lube in one hand; he was still naked and impossibly turned on. Somehow a discussion about supplies and prevention had become the best thing ever. Something about the honesty. The care. Doing something to make Colby more comfortable. Flinging a lure right from his heart to his d**k. “Got a question for you, though.”

“Oh, yes, of course—”

“How do you feel about my mouth?”

“As in…in general?” Colby’s eyebrows went up, evocative dark wings over oceans. “I quite like your mouth?”

“I mean on you,” Jason clarified. “Like, if I wanted to taste you. Here, I mean.” He skimmed a fingertip of the unoccupied hand along the line of Colby’s c**k.

Colby’s eyes got even wider. He opened his mouth, closed it, tried again. “You do?”

“Hell yes. You know how hot you are?” He tapped the finger against Colby’s shaft. Colby appeared to be speechless. “I like doing that, and I want to do that for you, but not if it’s on your not a good day list.”

This resulted in a noise that was more a squeak than anything else. Jason waited.

“Ah,” Colby said. “I…ah…you…it’s…yes? I mean yes you can, not that it’s a no. I mean thank you for thinking of that. I mean…I don’t know what I’m saying. I normally…I…I can’t recall the last time someone, er. Offered. I generally do. You don’t want me to?”

Of course you do, Jason thought. Making people happy. “Totally into that too, whenever you want. But right now I kind of want to get my mouth on you. Find out how you taste. Maybe get you right up to that edge, and stop, the way you like.”

“Oh. Then…yes?” Colby glanced around the bed and the bedroom, maybe for assistance. Friendly light limned his eyelashes. “What do you want me to do? Should I move, or—”

“Nope,” Jason said happily. “Stay put.” He considered this phrasing, and added, “That’s an order. If you want.”

“Jason…you do keep surprising me.” Colby’s smile could’ve illuminated the world. “I think that I would like that. The order. Listening to you.”

“Good. Stay just like that. I want you to watch, if you feel up to it. And tell me if you’re getting too close. You’re not going to come yet.”

Colby nodded meekly. His c**k got a bit more wet at the tip.

“So f*****g gorgeous,” Jason told him, and bent down. He left a kiss on the nearest hip first, over one of those unexpected random freckles. He made certain to move gradually; he pressed lips to the base of Colby’s c**k, one more kiss. Breathing in the heat and scent of him.

He glanced up, found Colby watching, and dove in.

He’d always loved this. He loved it with everyone he’d shared this with: the taste of pleasure, the fun of finding the places that made a partner gasp or groan or grow wetter with desire. The knowledge that he could make someone feel this good. The control, the way he liked it, in this: more and more, over and over, licking and sucking and learning the way the person felt in his mouth, on his tongue, as they shook apart in release, because of what he was doing to them.

Colby felt spectacular. Wonderfully male, long and thick and already leaking; Jason lapped that up assiduously, and took him in deeper, swirling tongue around, testing more pressure.

Colby gasped, and his c**k jumped in Jason’s mouth. More drops of ready need. Delicious.

Jason slid all the way down, taking the whole length, and sucked at him. Colby made the world’s best sound, frantic and quavering, and his hips jerked.

Jason pulled back enough to say, “No coming yet. I want you to feel good, but I want you to be good, too, for me. You can wait.” Colby’s shaft bumped his mouth; he nuzzled words into silken skin. “You are, you know. So good. So sweet, just staying put like I told you, while I do this to you.”

Colby was still blushing everyplace, and shut those beautiful eyes for a second, as if looking at Jason along with those words might be too much.

“I like that you don’t do this a lot,” Jason informed him. “All mine. And if I want to spend a whole day using my mouth on you, making you come over and over, then I will.”

“An entire day?” Colby said weakly. “Good heavens.”

“Yep. I’d tell you to stay put in bed, and you’d do it, because you’re so good when you’re listening to me. Nothing holding you down, nothing tying you up, just me telling you and you wanting that. And I’d suck you until you came for me the first time, and then play with you more, every part of you that you say is okay with that…you did say you like toys and being full…”

He paused to pay some more attention to Colby’s c**k. So nice. Fat and flushed and shiny from ministrations and want. Fantastically lickable.

Colby opened one eye—hair had tumbled into the other one—and then squeezed it shut again, but his body arched upward. Jason would’ve grinned, but his mouth was occupied.

He wrapped a hand around the base of Colby’s shaft. He found the twin weights below with the other hand, and explored those too. Colby shivered; Jason paused. “Still okay?”

“Yes…”

“You sure?”

“I’m thinking about you and using toys on me,” Colby confessed breathlessly. “I—I want—I don’t know. Everything you’ve just said. But wouldn’t you be rather bored? If I’m not doing anything for you?”

“You think you’re not doing anything for me?” He wriggled around. Waved vaguely at himself. Let Colby get a good look: lots of desire. Proudly jutting out, on display. “You’re doing exactly what I want. What I told you to do. So obedient. And you like that, don’t you? Doing what I say.”

“Oh God,” Colby said. “Yes, I—yes, all right, yes, Jason, yes, please. I—I like doing what you say. When you tell me I’m doing what you want—that you think I’m being good for you—”

“So good.” He reaffirmed this with lips and tongue and a few slow thorough strokes and sucking. “Just lying there where I want you, taking everything I want to do with you, everything I want you to feel…”

Colby shivered more; his body tensed and then softened, that same sort of physical melting into surrender that Jason had seen when he’d knelt and touched himself at Jason’s command.

More, then. A fraction more demanding, more assertive. Unquestionable.

Colby, after a particularly drawn-out deep sinking to the hilt, held there and surrounded by Jason’s mouth, whispered, “Jason…” His voice shook, uneven.

Jason stopped, and sat up.

“I’m not sure,” Colby whispered this time. “I—I feel—it’s almost too much. I can’t think, and I don’t want to think, I want to be yours, but then I—I’ll end up lost in it, floating in it, only it’s like the molasses and it’s all dark and rich and there’s so much and I want to feel you and I’m sorry but I think I’ve forgotten how to breathe—”