I fuck Jesse from behind, his body shaking as I have his face pressed against my headboard.

On his knees, he moans loudly as he jerks himself off. “Oh, fuck yes, Eric. Give it to me. Right there. Make me come.”

I speed up, working up an intense sweat, panting because he’s putting me through the wringer. I grip his hair and tug back. He arches his back as he lets me guide him to me, continuing to moan. When he’s upright, I continue giving him what he needs…what he keeps fucking begging me for.

He reaches a hand back and grabs behind my head as he turns and kisses me. I slide my free arm around his body, up to his pecs, and massage his nipple with my finger.

He laughs.

“What?” I ask into his mouth.

“You’re just getting so good at reading me.”

After five weeks of this, we’re getting more familiar with each other’s preferences in the best sort of way. He likes it a little rough, and I like giving it to him that way.

He rocks his hips back and forth subtly before coming across the sheets, and then I fill up the condom inside him, grunting while he continues kissing me and moaning with his own pleasure. As we come down together, I collapse onto my back.

It’s been a busy week, and it’s only Wednesday.

“I needed that,” I say with a sigh.

“Me too.” He takes deep, steady breaths.

“I’m glad you’re panting too,” I say. “Otherwise you’d make me feel like an old man.”

He smiles before rolling on top of me, his thick cock against my pelvis as he straddles my waist.

“Doesn’t matter how old you are when you can fuck me like that. Besides, I can still hold my own.”

His lips come crashing down on mine, and I relax into his strength, letting him dominate me. When he pulls away, he gasps for breath.

I enjoy being beneath him like this. “Look at you owning me like this,” I say, pleased with it, and he looks satisfied as fuck, as he does when he gets in a dominant position like this on occasion.

There’s this hunger within me. What we’ve shared together so far has been amazing, but there’s more I want from him, and I can’t explain why when I know how that would turn out.

He kisses me again and we settle, him at my side. I turn on the TV and pull up Netflix so we can continue a series we’ve been watching together.

“You still seeing Ty tomorrow?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“Too bad. I was kind of wanting to have you all to myself for dinner. I’ll see you afterward, though. Unless you think I’ll have been over here too many nights this week.”

I can tell by the wicked expression on his face he knows that isn’t the case.

Jesse and I picked up right where we left off, and it’s been everything I had hoped it would be and so much more. Work complicates things because I can’t be here as much as I’d like, and when that happens, Jesse and I share the occasional phone or Skype sex, but those times when we see each other again, there’s that same fire between us. What started as a spark has become a raging inferno of passion, the intensity of my desire for him only increasing the more time we spend together. Aside from a week when I had to return to San Diego for work and a few days when I met a guy in Toronto to discuss prospective business, I’ve been in Atlanta, doing whatever the fuck Jesse and I are doing.

It’s been hot, fun…and better than I could have imagined. It isn’t just the sex, as I suspected might have been the case. I like having him around, even to chat and watch movies and TV shows with. He’s even brought over some jigsaw puzzles we work on together some nights. It’s…fucking incredible.

Jesse is fucking incredible.

We watch a TV show, laughing and playing together before heading to bed. He’s stayed over quite a bit. I may not be the biggest cuddler in the world, because of my issues, but I notice it’s different than with the other guys I’ve been with. I can’t keep my hands off him. I want him close, even in those times where my body wants distance.

The following day, I’m grinning ear to ear while I go over some of the tax paperwork Vanessa sent over for me to complete.

I’m a little tense when I head out to meet with Ty.

“How are things at work?” I ask Ty as we sit at a booth in a restaurant that’s not too far from his place.

I’m trying to make conversation because he’s been short with me since we sat down for dinner.

I’ve been able to make more time with him since I’ve been traveling back and forth between San Diego and Atlanta for the past five weeks. I’ve always made time for him whenever I could, and I’ve been able to see him more frequently, which has been great, but like in the past, he doesn’t seem thrilled to see me.

“It’s been good.” He scrolls through his phone, which is set on the table beside him.

“I would actually like to talk to you at some point?” I say, and he looks up, seemingly annoyed.

I came into his life in the middle of his teen years, and this reminds me so much of what he was like in high school. If I can restrain myself from checking my phone, I think he can show me the same courtesy.

He drags his phone off the table, slides it into his pocket.

“Sorry,” he says, but despite how annoyed he acted when I called him out, he seems sincere.

He clasps his hands together and places them on the table before him, looking at me like he’s waiting for me to launch into some very important discussion. There are so many conversation starters in my head. Like, So…for the past five weeks, your best friend and I have been shacking it up in my condo, making dinners, watching movies, talking to each other about our hobbies, interests, and careers. I can imagine exactly how well that would go over.

“I’m actually heading to Chicago at the end of the week for an audit of one of our big clients,” Ty says.

“That sounds really serious. How long will you be gone?”

“Right now, just a few days. I’ll probably be traveling back and forth some. However, if this goes well, I could be up for a pretty big promotion.”

“A promotion? That’s great.”

For some reason, though, he doesn’t appear excited. More than anything, he appears hesitant.

“Yeah, I don’t know,” he says. “I’m kind of thinking about going back to school to get my CPA certification.”

“Really?”

“I don’t know if that would be a smart business move if they do decide to promote me, but long-term, I feel like it’s a very good move.”

“CPA certification? I can’t believe you didn’t mention this to me at any point.”

“I’ve been going back and forth about it. I’ve told Mom…”

Despite the fact that his mother and I are fine now, I’m annoyed when he mentions her in my presence because it reminds me that she took away all this time from us. She’s the reason it’s awkward as hell when I get together with my son…because she kept him from me for so long. I’ve tried to work through that, make it better in my head. But despite my attempts, I can’t forgive her…not entirely.

Not for that.

“What does your mother say about it?” I ask.

“She’s very against it. She thinks I could potentially be passing up a very good opportunity for something I may not be that good at.”

“You don’t think you’d be a good CPA? You’re very good at what you do.”

“Not that. Just getting certified. It’s just, it’s a lot of tests. And I wasn’t the best at school. I mean, you know that.”

“I may have been sweating bullets about you getting through that last year, but I was very proud of the way you pushed through.”

His expression shifts, like something I said surprised him.

He glances around uneasily. “Proud? This is the first time you’ve ever mentioned being proud of me for anything.”

“What? That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is. You never said that when I graduated.”

I reflect back. Surely, I must have. “I attended, and I said how happy I was and—”

“Yeah, but you didn’t actually ever say that word: proud.”

Suddenly, I feel like an asshole.

“Ty, I was very proud of you.”

He’s quiet for a moment.

I’m about to go on, when the waiter arrives and takes our orders. After he heads off, I refuse to let this go because I can tell by the way he reacted that this is something that means a lot to him—more than I had ever really considered.

“I’m very proud that you’d be considering going back to school, despite your feelings about it in the past.”

“Can you pass that news along to Mom?” he asks, smiling, but just as quickly straightening up his expression as though he didn’t want to give me even that much. Or at least, that’s how I’m interpreting it.

“Your mom has always been very conservative and nervous about taking risks, even in her own life. She likes to play things safe. Hell, even when I was younger and talked about investing, she would get nervous as hell, but you have to take risks if you really want to stand a chance to make a big profit. That’s the way life is. Always has been.”

“And what if I fall flat on my face?”

“Then the people around you give you shit but are really supportive…and still proud of you.”

I’m intentionally using the word again since I know how much it means to him, and I can tell he’s surprised by it once again.

I feel like such an asshole, and now I’m driving myself crazy trying to remember a time when I used the word. I guess I never thought, considering our relationship, that it would have ever meant all that much to him.

“I believe you can do it,” I add, but I can read a sort of skepticism in his expression. Like he’s thinking: How do you know I can? You haven’t been there all these years. You don’t know who I am. You don’t know what I’m capable of.

He doesn’t understand that I believe in him because I believe he’s capable of doing these things, because he’s accomplished so much in his life, and that I think he’s limiting himself in the way his mother always limited herself.

The conversation shifts to sports, movies, and the weather, but not in the way we usually discuss them, like we don’t have anything to talk about. Feels like Ty is actually trying to connect with me.

I think a part of what helps has to do with my conversations with Jesse about Ty, where he’s insisted that Ty really does care about our relationship and wants me to be in his life. It gives me hope, which I admit I haven’t always had when it comes to Ty.

When we finish catching up, I head back to my place. As I open the door, a powerful scent fills the air. I head around the corner and see Jesse’s already in the kitchen.

I gave him a key last week. It wasn’t so much a symbol of anything about where we’re at as much as I liked that he was able to come in and just meet me here, even if I was running late at the gym or on a run in Piedmont Park.

He glances over his shoulder, a smile whisking across his face as he hollers, “Hey, honey, glad you’re home.”

That playful tone is music to my ears and makes my dick twitch.

“What’s that smell?” I ask.

“I figured since you were having dinner with Ty, I could at least provide some dessert.”

“What is this dessert?” I start toward the oven, but Jesse jumps in my way.

“Uh-uh-uh. It’s a surprise.”

“Oh, a surprise? I like surprises.” As I approach him, cornering him against the oven, I wrap my arms around him, and he leans into my kiss, eagerly embracing it the way he usually does.

He places his hand on my cheek and runs his thumb through my scruff before pushing me back to the adjacent counter, taking control, as is his way. It’s something I appreciate about him—that as much as he may enjoy submitting and bottoming for me, there’s this side of him that enjoys taking control, asserting his own dominance in situations. I welcome those moments because it’s nice to feel comfortable letting go around someone.

The guys I’ve dated in the past, Casey included, have tended to be all about wanting me to take control. And maybe that’s why I’ve gravitated to guys like that…because I enjoyed having control. Something about the way Jesse takes charge is nice, though, and I can’t quite explain why.

As he pulls away, he studies my face.

“So how was your dinner with Ty? Considering the expression you made when you walked in, it looks like things went better than you expected.”

I had discussed my nervousness about meeting with Ty when I’d called him earlier in the day. Not an unusual thing. I’m usually like that about getting together with Ty, whether it’s for dinner or to see a game or go to a movie.

“What expression was I making?” I ask.

“You looked…relieved.”

I sigh. “Well, it wasn’t that great. It started off going about as well as it always does, but then I felt like…I don’t know, he opened up to me more. Also, I have this horrible awareness that I never told my son I’m proud of him.”

“That can’t be right,” he says.

“I don’t know. It seems like I would have told him that before, but he mentioned it tonight, and…he could be right.”

“Do you really think you haven’t? Haven’t you been proud of him?”

“Of course I have, but I’m not sure I ever said it.”

“Why do you think that is?” He appears genuinely curious, and I wish I knew the answer.

“I was thinking about that all the way over here, and in some ways, I think…” I don’t even want to say it, but I go for the thought that keeps coming to mind. “I never thought it would have mattered to him. Like I didn’t have a right to say it. Is that stupid?”

“Maybe a little, but I understand. If you never felt like much of a dad to him, I could see why that could seem like a big thing to say. But if that’s true, why do you think you said it tonight?”

“Possibly because after talking to you about Ty, I have hope again. That he might really want me in his life. Thank you for that.”

I kiss him again, softly, intimately, in a way that means so much more than those frenzied kisses we shared in the beginning. Not that we don’t still have those, but I appreciate the variations in our kisses these days…and exploring every way of kissing I can with him.

When I finally pull away from him, I ask, “Have you heard anything about this CPA idea he has?”

“Funny that you mention it. He’s actually talked to me a lot about that recently. Kind of conflicted. I’ve been encouraging him to go for it.”

“I was trying to do that too, and I really hope he does. As he said when we were talking, he wasn’t really all that great with school when he was there, so it’s nice to see him passionate about that after being away from it for a while.”

“I feel the same way,” he says, like I’m echoing some of his own thoughts about Ty.

“Now that was my day. So quid pro quo,” I say. “How about yours?”

Jesse smiles, seeming to appreciate the little game we play.

“It was lovely. After work, the guys and I got together and played some flag football. Kind of shorthanded since Ty evidently had to get together with his dad.” He makes an overdramatic gesture toward me, rolling his eyes. “Then afterward I had to hurry over here, take a shower, get my booty clean, and then try and get together my surprise dessert since I’m kind of amazing at baking.”

He kind of is, and I haven’t been shy about sharing that fact with him.

“A little too amazing,” I say, patting my stomach. “I think I’ve put on ten pounds in the past month.”

“That is such bullshit,” he says, “maybe two. But you needed to put on a little extra weight. I think you were getting a little too skinny.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not a thing that actually happens when you’re over forty. I’ve been able to get a few runs in this week, but I’m not able to hit the gym as frequently as you.”

“I didn’t hit the gym today, so there you go.”

“It’s Thursday. This is your off day,” I remind him, and I’m kind of impressed with myself for knowing that fact. The look in his eyes lets me know he’s impressed as well.

“Look at you. Memorizing my schedule.”

“I have an assistant for all that. I get her to put all your things on the calendar,” I lie, and he chuckles.

“Maybe you just have these stalker tendencies I’m not quite used to yet.”

He tightens his grip around me before glancing over his shoulder, checking the clock over the oven. He turns back to me. “Why don’t you go shower and clean your own hole while I get this.” He grips my ass cheeks firmly.

I know he’s kidding, but the joke is short-lived, because as soon as the words escape his lips, he releases his grip, his eyes widening, his expression filled with worry.

“Sorry, Eric. I didn’t mean…”

I know what he’s thinking about. He’s been so good at being respectful and not bringing up that thing he knows makes me uneasy. Not trying to draw attention to the fact that I’m not comfortable bottoming or with him playing too much around my ass.

It’s not really about him having his hands on my ass like that. And the way he just let loose reminds me that this is how at ease we are around one another.

“Jesse… It’s not a big deal, but thank you.”

I appreciate his concern and his genuine, sincere interest in making sure I’m comfortable. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons why I’m not alarmed—because I feel safe with Jesse. Although, his joke tells me that he would enjoy if I bottomed for him.

That’s not the only clue I’ve received. I can tell by the way he moves in the bedroom, by those times when I find myself pinned beneath him, and I have to admit, I desire it too. There’s a part of me that wishes I could be open to that, at least more than I have been. That I could let go of my past and the pain and the anxiety. But in a way, even just this moment gives me hope there’s a possibility, because the suggestion doesn’t arouse the normal tension and uneasiness I associate with that.

There’s a part of me, maybe wishful thinking, that wonders if he could help take away that pain and darkness in my life and replace it with something that feels good. I haven’t really ever allowed myself to consider that. I spent so much time avoiding it. But with Jesse, I’m willing to try.

Can I? Could I?

I head to the shower and wash off.

After I clean my hole, I take a moment, playing with it, sliding my fingers inside, imagining what it would be like to let Jesse do that. I feel this ache in me, this hunger, to let him take my body, claim me, give me that.

Some nights, I imagine him taking me and making me totally his.

But there’s a fear in the back of my mind, a reminder, that tension and uneasiness I felt him awaken within me when he so much as put his hand there. I don’t want to shut down like I have in the past. I know it’s possible, and it scares me.

I push the thought away. Not tonight, at least. It’s too soon. I’m not ready.

When I finish my shower, I head into the kitchen, a towel around my waist. Jesse has a tray of snickerdoodle cookies on the counter, which he removes and puts onto a plate.

“God, I’m going to get so fat with you,” I tell him.

He turns to me and looks me up and down. “Yeah, that’s what I’m going to do to keep the other boys’ hands off you.”

I laugh, enjoying the possessiveness. I approach him and seize a cookie off the plate.

“I don’t think it will do that much damage,” I say before taking a bite.

“Really? Because I was hoping tonight would be all about damage,” he says before backing his ass up against my crotch.

I set my free hand on his hip, pulling back. I’m so hungry for it. And I’m pleased that tonight I’m the one who’s going to be topping.