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Jake felt… Well, amazing, actually, his body thrumming with the afterglow of that unbelievable orgasm. He’d known sex with Micah was going to be incredible, but he’d underestimated the potential by a long shot. Still, he needed to know. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice quiet. He didn’t want to disturb this bubble they were floating in.
“Yeah.” Micah’s voice was equally quiet, almost dreamy. He rolled onto his side, inhaling sharply as he shifted position and propped himself on his elbow.
“You sure?”
“I’m fine. A little sore.” Micah trailed his fingers down Jake’s chest. “A little tired too.” He yawned.
Without thinking, Jake put his hand over Micah’s mouth to cover it and was surprised when Micah kissed his palm.
“That was so fucking hot,” Micah said.
“It’s fucking hot when you take control.” The admission was out of his mouth before he could stop himself.
Micah smiled. “You were taking too long.”
He yawned again, and Jake patted the bed. “Lie down. Let’s get some rest.”
For a moment Micah looked like he was going to say something, and Jake tensed, anticipating the words that were about to be launched at him like grenades. He willed himself to stay still as Micah searched his face, but then Micah smiled and rolled over so Jake was the big spoon.
It wasn’t relief Jake felt flooding his body; it was something more mysterious and terrifying. Micah got him. Really got him, in ways no one else ever had. All Jake had to say was, “I don’t kiss,” once, and Micah didn’t even try, didn’t try to catch Jake off-guard or sneak a kiss when Jake wasn’t paying attention. Hell, he didn’t even ask for an explanation, just accepted it as something that wasn’t going to happen.
Fingers threading through Micah’s hair, Jake realized Micah understood his boundaries, recognized them, and accepted them without question or negotiation. He’d never met a guy who didn’t push for more once they’d decided Jake was their guy. Jake knew the look, and he’d seen it cross Micah’s face at least once a day for the past week. Yet Micah didn’t push, didn’t whine, didn’t even give him puppy-dog eyes.
With a contented sigh, Jake gathered Micah closer, arms around his waist, Micah’s back to his front, Jake’s spent cock nestled between Micah’s ass cheeks.
Micah wiggled his ass a few times, then settled, idly tracing designs on Jake’s forearms as they drifted in a postorgasmic haze. “I like this.”
“Me too,” Jake said, knowing Micah wouldn’t say anything in response to that. No expression of surprise or expectation that it meant anything other than what Jake said. He did like this. All of it. He liked having sex with Micah. He liked holding Micah afterward. He liked talking to Micah and spending time with him. He felt…calm when he was around Micah. And then there was that connection that blazed white-hot between them. Whatever it was, it was real.
Could he be in a relationship with someone like Micah? Someone who accepted what Jake could give and didn’t push for more? Someone who… Jake rolled his eyes at himself. Why was he thinking about an anonymous “someone” when Micah was right here, already giving Jake more than he thought he’d ever want with another person.
Jake Fielding. Boyfriend. Micah’s boyfriend.
It was odd how that term didn’t set his heart pounding or make his skin crawl when it was paired with Micah’s name. But he had no idea how to be someone’s boyfriend. Would he be enough for Micah? Would Micah want him for more than just sex and a summer fling? Jake hated the uncertainty.
Micah hummed, the vibration transmitting from his body to Jake’s, and pressed closer to him, fingers running over his arm. Jake suddenly recognized the shape Micah was tracing. It was a heart. Over and over again. Dozens of them now, invisible on his skin but permanent as a brand. He continued to feel them even as Micah’s hand stilled and his breathing told Jake he’d fallen asleep.
Micah
Babe.
Micah lay in bed, watching the sunrise paint the walls of his room pink, then gold. Jake lay behind him, an arm tight across Micah’s chest, holding him close.
Babe.
The word kept echoing in Micah’s brain as he replayed the night before, particularly the moment Jake had called him “babe.”
The sex had been better than he imagined it could be. He’d never come so hard in his life. It was like his entire body had lit on fire once Jake was inside him. Yeah, he could still feel the effect of Jake’s cock having been in his ass. He was a little sore, but he couldn’t wait to do it again. Especially if it got Jake to call him “babe.”
He rolled onto his back, taking care to keep Jake’s arm draped across his chest, and stared at Jake’s face. He loved the dark lashes that lay flush against Jake’s cheeks. When he was awake, they formed a perfect frame for those incredible amber eyes, but when he was sleeping, they gave Jake’s face an air of innocence and peace.
Micah sighed. The man was flat-out beautiful. It was the first thing he’d noticed when Alex introduced them back in April. Gorgeous face and such a hot body. But that wasn’t the only thing Micah had noticed. He’d lived his entire life in and near New York City, where beautiful people were a dime a dozen. He was also a dancer, so being around men with incredible physiques was par for the course. Hell, he knew his own body was pretty spectacular, though he’d never appreciated it as much as he had this past week under Jake’s constant admiring gaze.
And that was at the crux of the moment their eyes had met back in April, him standing over his backpack, Jake framed in the doorway to the dorm room—when Micah saw him that first time, it was as if he were meeting an old friend. Jake was instantly familiar to him. Even though they’d barely exchanged a dozen words, Micah felt as if they’d had an entire conversation, and he knew Jake was going to be in his life forever. When he saw Jake at the bar later that night, he’d been sure Jake was there for him. He’d caught Jake staring at him from across the room, and he’d been on the verge of going over to him when Alex said something that made him look away. When he’d turned back, Jake was gone, and despite not seeing him again for the rest of his visit, Micah had known that wasn’t the end for them. It was that certainty that had caused Micah to falter when he saw Jake in the audience on closing night. He’d seen it in his mind so often that, for a moment, he thought he was dreaming.
Micah took in a deep breath, letting Jake’s scent fill him. He hadn’t been dreaming. Not at all. Jake was real and here in his bed and would, forever after, be Micah’s first. Nothing would ever erase that connection between them.
He rolled toward Jake. Micah wouldn’t, couldn’t, kiss him the way he wanted to, so he kissed his fingers and pressed them to the corner of Jake’s mouth. “I love you,” he whispered, then rolled back to his original position and drifted off to sleep.
