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He also hadn’t missed what Micah said, about being his first for everything. Jake wanted that too, not just because he wanted Micah, but because he wanted to protect him from being with someone who didn’t care about him. Jake’s first time had been a pretty awful quickie at a club with a guy who hadn’t used enough lube and didn’t listen when Jake asked him to go slower. The next couple of times weren’t any better, whether because of the guys being too rough or because he simply didn’t like bottoming. He hadn’t bottomed since, never let himself be put in such a powerless position again.
Jake didn’t want that for Micah. He wanted Micah to know what turned him on, the incredible variety of things bodies could do together, and how amazing his body could feel. And he wanted to watch as Micah experienced all of it, wanted to help Micah discover it for himself. He wanted to be the one who made Micah fall apart and then put him back together again.
He leaned forward and rested his chin against Micah’s shoulder so he could watch his beautiful face emerge from the dark as the sun rose, and he imagined all the things they could do together before Alex returned.
Micah
Micah woke alone with sunlight streaming through his windows. As much as he would have liked an early morning cuddle, or more, he knew Jake was probably swimming in the Sound or doing laps in the pool. Micah hoped it was the former. Jake had told him how much he liked open-water swimming, and about the almost meditative trance he fell into when all he needed to concentrate on was stroke after stroke, without thinking about how close he was to the wall and precisely timing his flip turns to maximize his distance.
Thoughts of Jake doing his workout made Micah get out of bed. He changed into compression tights, a loose T-shirt, and a pair of shorts, then ate a quick bite of peanut butter on a rice cake while standing at the counter in the kitchen. When he was done, he headed for the studio his parents had built for him next to his dad’s workout room, in the lower level of the house. As much as his parents ignored him and his inconvenient sexuality, they’d fully supported his talent as a dancer, providing him with stellar instruction from the time he was five. The professional-quality dance studio had been a gift for his sixteenth birthday. It was a gorgeous room with full-length mirrors, a barre along one wall, and a perfectly sprung ash floor. All Micah had to do was walk through the door, feel the bounce in the wood beneath his feet, and he was in the mood to dance.
First stop, though, was the treadmill in his dad’s space. He did some light dynamic stretches for his legs, then ran a mile to get his body warmed up before heading into his studio. He put Madonna’s latest album on the CD player, then got down to the serious business of stretching out his entire body before he started working through the audition routine his dance coach had created for him. By the time he was finished, he was limber and wanted to play, something rehearsals and performances had kept him from doing for some time.
He cued up “Ray of Light” on the CD and let himself go. He loved the feel of pushing his muscles and the smooth way they gave him whatever he asked of them. High kicks, splits, side passes, leaps, spins, he let the music carry him from one move to the next. As always when he danced, his mind took flight along with his body, and his thoughts drifted to the previous night. Being sandwiched between the go-go boys had been amazing, feeling their bodies against his, all of them hard and moving together. Those guys knew how to dance—that became obvious pretty quickly because of the way they moved, knew how to read each other, and responded seamlessly. It had been fluid and spontaneous, a celebration of three bodies and what they could do.
Usually, Micah’s movements were choreographed and blocked out, each move practiced until it became muscle memory. He still remembered the choreography from his earliest recitals, could reproduce them exactly when he heard the accompanying piece of music. Dancing with those guys was the exact opposite: wild, unrehearsed, and freeing.
The best part of the previous night, though, had been knowing Jake was watching him. He didn’t even have to look at him to know how dark those amber eyes had gotten, how aroused Jake was. He felt it, and it had driven him to move more sensuously, rolling his hips like he was fucking the guy in front of him, being fucked by the guy behind him. And then in the bathroom… He shivered at the memory of Jake thrusting against him, the feel of Jake’s cock in his hand. Best. Night. Ever.
When he started to get tired, he switched the music to the rehearsal soundtrack for Godspell. He was thinking about the drag performer and wanted to play with the cabaret-style “Turn Back, O Man,” like he’d done with his castmates. The song was campy as hell and really fun. He’d envied Judy for performing that song night after night while he’d been stuck with the more serious and slightly depressing numbers, not to mention the emotional toll of the show’s final moments, which always left him somber and raw. Yes, he’d been the lead, and yes, he got to perform his own campy number, “All for the Best,” which was a crowd-pleaser, but there was something about the seductiveness of Judy’s song and the provocative way it was staged that appealed to Micah in the same way the drag performer’s act had.
Somewhere in the middle of the song, Micah realized Jake was watching him, even though he was standing far enough from the doorway that Micah couldn’t see him in the mirrors. So he made his movements bigger, with wide hip rolls and thrusts and an exaggerated strut. He swept his hands up the nape of his neck as if he had long hair, then glanced over his shoulder, batted his eyelashes, and gave a shimmy with his hips before turning and strutting over to Jake, grabbing him by the hand, and bringing him into the studio. Micah sang to him while wrapping his arms around Jake’s bare chest, thrust his hips against Jake’s ass in those ridiculously hot Speedos, then danced his way down an imaginary theater aisle to greet audience members. He ended the number with high kicks and a dramatic extension that brought his raised leg into a straight line with the one on the floor.
When the song was over, Jake applauded, and Micah turned off the CD player before it could start another cycle.
“That was amazing,” Jake said. “You should totally do drag. You’d have a blast.”
“Yeah?”
Jake walked over to him. “Yeah. You were really into the performer last night, I could tell. If I can find an amateur drag night, would you check it out?”
“I don’t know…” He wasn’t quite ready to admit how much the thought of it appealed to him.
“Come on, Mi, what have you got to lose?” Jake sidled closer to him. “You would be so hot,” he whispered in Micah’s ear. “You turned me on so much last night, I’d love to see you onstage again.”
Micah felt his reluctance crumble in the face of Jake’s encouragement. He really did want to do it. All he had to do was think about the show they’d watched and how he’d envied the performer to know how much he wanted to be the one onstage. He cocked a hip against Jake’s hard abs. “Will you help me find something to wear, big boy?”
“Hell yes.” Jake pulled Micah against him. “After we shower, though. I’m all gritty from the saltwater.”
Wrapping his arms around Jake’s waist, Micah swiped his tongue along Jake’s collarbone and up the side of his neck. Then he licked his lips and smacked them together, loving how it made Jake groan. He could feel Jake getting hard against his thigh and looked down to see the outline of Jake’s cock straining against the fabric of his Speedo.
“That suit doesn’t hide shit,” he said, reaching down to palm the tempting bulge, which grew larger as he stroked.
“No kidding.” Jake thrust his hips hard against Micah’s hand. “Try being gay in the locker room in high school. I used to take a freezing shower before putting on my suit so I wouldn’t pop wood on the way to the pool.”
Micah laughed and snaked his hand inside Jake’s suit, lifting and straightening his cock as he continued to stroke and rub his thumb over the slit. “That sounds like it could have been a problem.”
“You have no idea.” Jake groaned again as Micah took a firmer hold and began stroking him in earnest. “God, Mi.” He leaned his head on Micah’s shoulder. “Oh fuck, you smell so good.”
“I’m all sweaty.”
“That’s why you smell so good.” Jake looped an arm around Micah’s neck and inhaled loudly.
“Come on, you deviant, let’s go shower.” He pulled his hand out of Jake’s suit, grinning as Jake whined at the loss of contact.
They showered in the bathroom downstairs, enjoying the multi-jet spray while they jerked each other off to blistering orgasms, then flopped onto the benches in the sauna to dry off.
“This house has everything.” Jake groaned as the temperature began to rise, filling the air with the scent of warm cedar and lava rocks. “I love it. You think Alex could stay with his grandparents an extra week?”
