Track 25: Side A

Wish Upon A Freckle

 

Lincoln

It’s been a few days since we got to Seattle and Jace agreed to try for real. A week since I admitted the truth to Jace. It’s not like I was admitting some huge secret; everyone knows the truth. But I’ve never said it out loud to anyone. I’ve never been the one to tell someone that yes, I wanted to die, and it wasn’t the only time I’ve felt that way.

To my surprise, he didn’t try to push me away. I always thought telling someone those things would make them look at me differently. But Jace just kept kissing and holding me all night. And the next morning, we cuddled in bed for hours, talking about all the minute details of our lives. He laughed when I asked where he bought groceries and what his favorite brand of shampoo was now, but I want to know everything about him. I want to erase the last ten years we spent apart.

“What are you thinking about?” Jace asks, nudging me with his foot.

I pick up his feet and put them in my lap. I absentmindedly connect the dots on his left thigh.

“Just thinking about how lucky I am to have gotten a second chance. I feel like it was fate. What were the odds that I’d be at the cabin at the same time you were? And even if we had both been there, you might not have been single. It all worked out exactly how it was supposed to.”

Jace’s smile is soft as he reaches for my free hand. He lifts it to his lips and kisses each one of my fingertips.

“I think so too, baby. I don’t know exactly how things are going to turn out, but if the universe wants us together, it must be good, right?”

“Exactly,” I agree, setting his feet back down on the couch and crawling over him so our mouths are aligned. I brush a barely there kiss to his lips and then another, dragging a frustrated huff from him. He grabs the back of my neck and pulls me down to press our lips together firmly. My body heats from head to toe, and I smile against his mouth.

Our tongues slip and slide against each other, our hands wandering and our hips grinding together. But there’s no race to the finish line, no clothes being removed, no attempt by either of us to get off. It’s everything my soul needs. I want so badly to tell Jace how much I love him, that I never stopped loving him. But I don’t know if it’s too soon. I don’t want to rush anything or risk scaring him away.

Eventually, he pulls his lips away and our foreheads rest against each other, our noses bumping, and our smiles mirror images of each other.

“What do you want to do tonight?” Jace asks, and I let out a huff of a laugh.

“I can think of a few things.” I press my erection against his hip to emphasize my point.

“Not yet,” he says, teasing his fingers along my stomach, just above the waistline of my pants. “Anticipation is half the fun.”

“You just get off on knowing how hard and desperate I am for you,” I accuse.

“Like I said, it’s half the fun,” Jace agrees with a sexy smirk. “So, what else do you want to do? Go out? Play video games? Watch a movie?”

“You know what I really want to do?” I ask, and Jace raises his eyebrows, waiting for my answer. “I want to play my guitar.”

“Okay,” he agrees. “Get it and play for me.”

I can’t resist stealing one more kiss before climbing off the couch and grabbing my guitar from the bedroom. I still haven’t been playing much recently, but over the past week I’ve had a low-level buzz of creative energy that I didn’t think I’d ever feel again.

When I get back to the living room, Jace is sitting up enough to make room for me to sit. With my guitar on my lap, and Jace watching me with a look of admiration and lust, I start to play “Freckles” for him again. It was always my favorite.

He sits sideways on the couch, facing me, his gaze locked on mine as I play, a smile on his lips.

“You came up with such random shapes for that song,” he muses when I finish.

“They weren’t random; they’re the real shapes in your freckles.”

“Nu-uh,” he argues like a petulant child, and I laugh.

“Yuh-huh,” I shoot back. “I’ll show you.”

I set my guitar down and go to the computer desk in the corner of the living room to grab a marker. I return to the couch, holding up the marker, and give Jace a challenging look.

“Take your pants off.”

Jace rolls his eyes. “Really? What ever happened to romance?”

I raise both eyebrows at him, and when he makes no move to take his pants off, I stick the capped marker between my teeth and start unbuttoning his pants. He squirms and laughs, fighting me off just enough to make the task a fun challenge. And by the time he’s in just his boxer-briefs, we’re both breathless and half-hard.

Using both hands on his hips, I flip him over and give his ass a playful smack.

“Hold still or you’ll end up with marker scribbled all over you,” I warn.

“Isn’t that what you’re doing anyway?”

“I’m not scribbling,” I correct, “I’m connecting the dots.”

“This is never going to wash off, is it?” he asks once I start to connect a cluster of freckles.

“That’s why I’m doing it on your legs, so your pants cover it.”

“Why thank you,” Jace says dryly.

I draw a heart, a star, and a funny little dinosaur on the back of his thigh while he squirms and laughs, complaining that the marker tickles.

“There, all done,” I declare.

Jace cranes his neck, trying to see the shapes his connected freckles made. “I can’t see them,” he complains.

“Hold on.” I pull out my phone and snap pictures and then hand it to him.

“You’re so weird,” he declares before giving me my phone back.

“Psh, you’re the one dating a weirdo so what does that make you?” I challenge.

He rolls onto his side and looks up at me with something warm shining in his eyes.

“Happy,” he answers, and my knees feel weak.

“Me too, Freckles.” I kneel in front of him and brush the hair off his forehead, and then I lean in and kiss just a few of my favorite freckles on his cheeks and nose. They’re hard to see now in the middle of winter. But I remember exactly where they’ll be come late summer, and I’ll kiss them then too.

 

 

Jace

It’s only been three days, but ever since I told Linc we could try to make this work, everything has just felt right. I haven’t brought up the topic of his depression and self-harm again yet, but I’m clinging to the fact that he agreed to meet with a therapist. I just don’t want to taint this happy honeymoon period with all that. We’ll talk about it again soon, and I’ll get Wyatt to meet with him. Everything is going to work out. I have to believe that.

And god, how perfect is it that Linc believes in fate just like I do? Suck it, Wyatt.

“I just realized tomorrow is New Year’s Eve, how crazy is that?” Linc notes.

“Oh shit, I’m supposed to go to a party at a colleague’s place. She’s a work friend, pretty cool actually. You up for going?”

“Yeah I’ll go. Are people going to shit their pants when you walk in with Lincoln Miller?”

“Oh god, probably. Who cares though. I have to get used to it eventually, right?”

A look passes through Linc’s eyes that almost makes me think he’s about to cry but then he smiles.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “We’re going to be together, so you’ll have to get used to it.”

It’s a small price to pay.

“Ready to go to bed?” I ask, standing and offering my hand to Linc. We went out and got condoms the day after we agreed to become exclusive, but I haven’t made love to Linc like he requested yet.

“More than ready,” he agrees, taking my hand and following me to the bedroom.

As soon as we cross the threshold of the bedroom, our mouths crash together in hot desperation. I can still feel the ghost of his fingers tickling my legs as he drew his pictures, and it warms me inside.

I fumble with Linc’s pants, trying to get them unbuttoned without breaking the kiss. He has mercy on me, reaching between us and flicking the button open with ease. His pants drop to the floor, and he kicks out of them and pushes me toward the bed. I grab his hips and tug him along with me as I fall onto my bed, and our lips find each other again. His erection lines up with mine, and they grind together through our underwear as our tongues slide and tangle together.

We only break our kiss long enough to get our shirts off. I can’t believe I spent too many years not kissing Linc. In fact, between our years apart and the fact that we only had summers when we were young, I’ve spent entirely too much of my life without my lips on Linc’s. That will have to be remedied.

His cock thrusting against mine with only a bit of fabric between us has me aching for release, pre-cum dampening my underwear. My thumbs brush over Linc’s nipples, and he moans into my mouth, hitching one of my legs around his waist and grinding harder against me.

I reach down and tug at his briefs, grunting against his lips and hoping he gets the hint. When he pulls his lips away from mine, we’re both panting and flushed. We scramble to lose our underwear, but before Linc can lay himself on top of me again, I push against his chest until he’s on his back.

There’s a dreamy smile on his kiss swollen lips, his hair is sticking up in all directions, and his cock is dark with arousal and dripping onto his stomach. He’s like a wet dream come to life, and he’s all mine.

I map the dips and planes of his chest and stomach with my tongue, his fingers gripping my hair and his needy moans filling the air. I take my time tasting every inch of his skin, gathering a tongueful of his pre-cum off his stomach and savoring the flavor. His hips twitch, begging me to hurry up.

When I finally wrap my hand around the base of his cock, Linc lets out a happy sigh. I place a chaste kiss to his tip, and the strangled whimper that falls from his lips makes me throb.

“Flip over,” I instruct, releasing my hold on his erection.

I press the head of my cock to his hole, and he spreads his legs for me, lowering his head onto his arms so his ass is nice and high.

“If I admit I’ve missed this ass, will that be showing my hand too much?” I ask, massaging his round globes in my hands and parting them to see his pretty pink hole.

“I think we’ve already determined you missed me, Freckles.”

Rather than arguing something he’s obviously right about, I lick a stripe from his balls to the top of his cleft, just barely grazing his hole. He grunts in protest and wiggles his ass, so I do it again and again. Linc loves to point out the hypocrisy of demanding he hurry up when he’s topping but taking my sweet time when it’s my turn. I don’t care, I’m still going to tease him for a while.

After a few minutes, I slow my licks and linger longer around his pucker. I alternate between long licks with the flat of my tongue and darting quickly with the tip. His hips buck, and out of the corner of my eye, I see him reaching for his cock. I slap his hand away without breaking my rhythm, and he groans.

I tease a finger around the head of his cock, gathering the pre-cum that’s dripping from him. I move my slicked finger to his hole and inch it inside. I angle it downward, in search of his prostate and am rewarded with a strangled curse.

“Can you just get inside me, please?” he begs through gritted teeth.

“What’s that Mr. Twelve-hours-of-foreplay?” I tease.

“Fuck you,” he gasps, and I laugh.

“Fine, I’ll have mercy on you this time.”

I reach for the nightstand where we put the condoms and fresh bottle of lube we bought and grab both items. I tear open the condom package and roll it on. Then I squirt some lube onto my fingers and slip them back into his cleft. I shove two fingers inside him without warning and his surprised yelp quickly turns into pleas for more. I thrust my fingers in and out until I’m satisfied he’s ready for me, and then I pull them out and smear the remaining lube on my cock.

The second time I line my cock up to his hole, I don’t wait or tease. I push inside him in one smooth motion. Linc’s fists grip the bed sheets, and he moans long and low as I fill him.

“Jace, oh fuck, yes.”

I clench my teeth and close my eyes, trying my best not to blow too fast. No memory could ever compare to the feeling of his perfect heat gripping me and dragging me closer and closer to the edge.

I pull out and snap my hips forward again, taking Linc hard and fast and pulling cries of pleasure from him. He meets my thrusts with his own, driving himself onto my cock.

“Linc, I can’t…” I gasp, my fingers digging into his hips hard enough to bruise.

“Me either,” he agrees.

I reach around and take his steel hard cock in my hand, jerking him in time with my punishing thrusts. His hole constricts around me, and heat pulses in the pit of my stomach, my cock swelling inside his tight channel.

“Jace,” Linc gasps followed by some unintelligible words, and then his hot seed is spilling over my fist, and I slam into him one last time, losing myself in the blinding pleasure of emptying my balls deep inside him, even if it is inside a condom.

My hips twitch, pressed against his ass cheeks, as aftershocks zap through me.

When my softening cock slips out, Linc falls forward with a satisfied groan. “I think you killed me.” His voice is muffled by the pillow, and the look of bliss on his face fills me with a primal sense of pride.

“I’m going to get cleaned up, and I’ll be right back.”

When I slip into bed beside him, Linc rolls toward me and wraps his arms around me.

“Thank you,” he whispers against my neck.

“For fucking you?” I chuckle.

“No, for giving us a second chance.”