kinky_af

"It was lunch at Subway," I objected. "Not a date."

He waved this away. "Whatever. Semantics. The point is that today you ended up having to disclose to me information that you weren't ready to disclose, and that...I...have some understanding...of how violated that makes a person feel.

"I got outed before I was ready to talk about it, and then of course I had to talk about it. With what felt like absolutely fucking everybody, all at once. And so all I'm saying is, if you want to discuss things that's fine, and if you don't, it's totally your call and I'll respect that. I will. You don't owe me any answers, any explanations, any justifications, any more than you did yesterday. Okay?"

"Okay," I said, although it was more of a place-filler than an agreement. I was so confused. If he'd tried to get me to talk, I would've refused. But now he wasn't, I was...not disappointed...but something weirdly close.

I looked down at our conjoined hands, vaguely jarred by the sight. "If you're trying to be some kind of white knight here, I'd cut your losses now," I told him. "You're not gonna be able to fix me, y'know."

Reid huffed. "Well, seeing as I don't feel like you need fixing that's not exactly a huge problem."

I pressed on. "Maybe I'm just some lost stray, aye, and all I need is a home and some food and some love and some consistency in my life and all of my issues will magically disappear?"

The huff was an annoyed one this time. "Give me a tiny bit of credit for maybe already knowing it doesn't work like that!" He dragged us to the side of the path and stopped and peered into my face, frowning. "Like, I'm not dumb, J! Why would you even say that?"

Why? Well, maybe I believed in magic once upon a time. But then, I am dumb.

I took a deep breath. "Yeah...when I came out...it was three years ago, right? I was twenty-two. So obviously I'd actually known for a while. And my parents, my family...they were all amazingly cool about it, y'know? Too cool. Like, verging on thrilled...and I realised, I realised they all thought, ohhh, Jay's been messed up because of the stress of hiding shit, and now it's all out in the open he's gonna be fine, yipee. And I...maybe...I let myself think that as well. And..."

His thumb traced over mine, back and forth. "And...that's not how it works."

"That's not how it works," I withdrawing my hand. "And I know that now. I know it isn't gonna go away. Mate...I'm good at my job, I'm good at fucking, and I'm good at screwing shit up and annoying people. And that's it. That's my skillset. I'm bad at adulting and bad at relationships and I'm trying to bloody tell you that and I don't know why you won't - like, what's in this for you? What's it about, if you're not aiming to rescue me? I don't get it."

Reid reached for my hand again and squeezed briefly. "What's it about? Well, I mean, it's partly curiosity. You sounded...interesting. That's why I wanted to meet. A guy who's prepared to risk getting arrested to fulfil a fantasy of somebody he doesn't even know? That's not everyday stuff. Aaand also, now we've met? It's definitely partly lust..."

He laughed down in his throat. "I got to put a voice to the voice, which was good, and I got to put a face to the voice, which was even better. But I'm holding out for the trifecta here. I'm keen to put a dick to the face. Or even, your dick to my face. I wanna get really familiar with it, I wanna know everything about it. I wanna make it one very, very happy dick."

My chest constricted even further. "Yeah, but why?" I panted. "I mean, there's plenty of other dicks out there. Uncomplicated ones, attached to guys who are, like, normal!"

He turned abruptly to look at me, and his face...god. It was like I was breaking his heart or something.

"Aww, baby..." he whispered. And then he kissed me. Right there on the path, in the way of all the dog-walkers and twilight joggers...

You know how with fireworks - the good ones, anyway - they shoot up into the sky in a coloured streak, and then there's this tiny pause before they go ka-fucking-BOOM! all over the place? Well, it was like that. Except the BOOM lasted probably twenty seconds and somehow managed to contain every cliche ever. Thunder and lightning, took my breath away, sent me cross-eyed, swept me off my feet...you name it, it all happened and more...

Then Reid drew back a little, still holding my face, and said;

"Jay? Can I please have your number? Please?"

I gave it to him.

I gave it to him even though I still hadn't figured out what this was, even though I still couldn't see why he'd want it. I gave to him even though I at least knew - now - that despite our shared understanding of my ability to take him in a fight, it'd never come to that. I might be stronger than him physically, but he had a will that way outmatched me. If we did this thing, we'd be doing it on his terms.

And I handed over my number anyway, because that kiss. That kiss. I felt it all the way in my toes.

Along the path we went, holding hands again. It was working much better for me now. Actually kinda nice. I took a chance and leaned in to briefly donk the side of my head against Reid's.

"What if you're disappointed when you finally put the dick to the face, eh Mr Optimist? Thought about that?"

"I'll take my chances," he told me. "You don't have the vibe of a guy who's packing a tadpole."

"And you?" I prompted.

He shrugged. "Ain't a fencepost, ain't a tadpole. You want any more detail, come and visit me on Saturday and I promise you can get all the detail you want. Or I can send you a dick pic I guess, now I have your number? Would you like that, J?" he breathed in my ear. "Would you like me to send you a pic of me thinking hard about what I might like to do to you?"

Maybe it was the holding hands thing, the unfamiliarity of it...I dunno, but...I felt like some kind of teenage virgin as I stuttered;

"Um, I...maybe not? Not that I - I don't...I mean, if you want to but, um...Saturday's good..."

I think he enjoyed watching me flounder. He was grinning as he said;

"Okay. Saturday. Let's save it for the great unveiling. And you're not gonna bail on me, right, J?"

I shook my head. "No...I'm game if you are. But you probably need to have some idea of what you're dealing with here. So like I said, the medication helps. But even with it, I still have these freak-outs or whatever, maybe once or twice a year, where I just kinda stop functioning and stay in my room for a week maybe...

"And leading up to them, I get, I dunno, more and more kinda obsessive but also more disorganised and more behind on shit and more frustrated with myself, and...so, last time it happened I managed to let my car insurance lapse and didn't realise, and then of course I went and pranged somebody in my uninsured vehicle..."

Reid made a sympathetic pain-grimace in response to that.

"Uh-huh..." I grimaced back. "Even though it was only a fender-bender, it cost nearly seven grand, all of which I had to, like, pay. As a result I've been over the limit on my credit card for the last five months and taking all the overtime I can get to try and claw my way back...and the thing is, I feel...I feel like..."

Oooh. Shit. I hadn't been wanting to admit this, even to myself.

Reid obviously sensed something, because he steered us toward a bench and sat us down.

"Wassup, J?" he murmured.

With difficulty, I dragged in a breath. "I feel like...I might be gearing up for another round, is all. Before I'm done mopping up the results of the last one. And I just hate, I hate that I can't just fucking deal with stuff like everybody else! It's so fucking lame!"

Reid was shaking his head. "God, why are people like this with mental illness? Look, I get resenting it. I do. But why would you beat yourself up? I mean, I sure wish I didn't have asthma. But I don't go around saying, 'why can't I just breathe air like everybody else?' I can't breathe air 'like everybody else' because I have asthma! It's not lame - it's just a fact."

"Easy for you to say, mate," I snapped. "You're a dude who owns a house, and I'm a dude who can't even make himself tidy his catastrophe of a room!"

"So stop trying," Reid said.

That threw me.

"Whaa - what do you mean?"

He laughed, quietly, in that throaty way I was getting to know - and like. "Yeah, busted. Look, my mum's a counsellor, which believe me is a bloody annoying thing to grow up with, but at least I know the concept of making yourself do something for the absolute bullshit it is. It's like deciding to lift yourself off the ground by reaching down and grabbing hold of your feet. It's way more work than it's worth."

He turned to me, eyes all urgent and glistening. "Honestly, J - unless there's a rotting corpse in your room, you don't have to tidy it. So it's about whether you want to. And probably you have a, I dunno, an instinct, a belief that you don't want to, because...something in you is resisting it, yeah?"

"Yeah, I thought I explained that bit. All of me is resisting it."

"Yup," he said, "aaand here is where I unavoidably sound like my Mum. 'Cos I'm going to suggest some 'thinking about how you feel' - yeah, I know, I know... I've had this done to me, remember? But tonight, what about if you go and sit in your room and look around and - okay, I know how woo-woo this sounds - just try and, like, identify what you're feeling, huh?"

I did not say "uh-huh," because, yeah that sure was some woo-woo...but Reid was kinda on a roll and didn't seem to notice.

"And if it turns out that you actually don't want to tidy your room, then seriously - don't do it. Because you can't make yourself want to do something. But if it turns out that you do want to and the problem is that it seems too confusing or too big of a job or like you might need to make some uncomfortable choices during the process...Y'know, those are all things you can solve, piece by piece..."

I stood up. "We should probably keep going."

Reid stayed sitting, looking chastened. "Too much talking, eh? And waaay too much unsolicited advice. Sorry. If I start up with any of that shit on Saturday you have full permission to just gag me. With your cock, if you like."

"Would that discourage the behaviour or en-courage it?" I asked, pulling him to his feet.

His fingers linked through mine again, and he winked. "Who knows? You'll have to experiment."

---

By the time I was on the way to Reid's place on Saturday, I was definitely up for some experimenting. I'd held off from wanking that morning so I'd have a nice big load for him, and the unaccustomed tension coupled with nervousness and anticipation was both nice and...not.

"Shouldn't be long now," I told my achy groin as we reached the outskirts of town, and sure enough I was pulling up outside his house only three minutes later. Not exactly a sprawling metropolis, Te Awamutu...

...and the house. God. I definitely felt less jealous of his whole situation when I saw it. He hadn't been kidding when he called it a shitter...

It was a small, square, flat-fronted brutally functional lump with a raw concrete porch and steps, the flaking weatherboards decorated in the classic rhubarb and custard colour scheme. A house that an agent would proclaim had 'great bones', because there sure wasn't anything much else to say about it...

It was considerably less bad inside. Or maybe I just felt a more positive spin on things once I'd entered - because the first thing Reid did when he'd got the door shut on us was grab my face with two hands, growl his appreciation of my stubble, and kiss me, and oh fuck...again, the same thing...ka-fucking-BOOM...

Jesus...way good. Too good. Scary good...

I was actually panting when we pulled apart. "Shit. Man. You're a pro at that..."

He gave a tiny shake of his head. "That's not me. That's us. We got chemistry, I reckon." Then a sneaky little grin. "Want another one?"

I did, yes. Another ten, even. But...I had this feeling that the more tastes I allowed myself, the more hooked I'd get. I mean, that's what addiction is, right? That tension - there's the rational part of you going hold up, J, this could be dangerous. And the non-rational part, going, yeah, but it's go-oo-od...

Probably he got sick of me standing there with my jaw half-hanging trying to convince myself that I could say no - anyway, he pounced and his tongue was inside and snaking all over mine before I could even - and I moaned into his mouth because this was just so fucking huge and I didn't understand why I was so, so into this...

I really didn't. I'd never particularly seen the point of kissing. I mean, a bit of snowballing's always nice, but that's different, and besides-

Reid stepped back, clearing his throat. "Anyway. I should probably show you around before I rip all your clothes off. C'mon."

He towed me through the place saying the most captain-obvious things imaginable like 'this is the lounge', 'this is the kitchen' until I reminded him that I had eyes, then he went so quiet that I felt like I needed to make conversation.

"What's with the ceilings?" I asked. "Did you have a leak problem or what?" The ceiling was new throughout the house, and in most rooms it was raw stopped gib, as yet unpainted.

He shook his head. "Nah. The roof's actually fine, despite appearances. I had all the ceilings re-done before I moved in. Everything else I'll do as I can afford it, but the place had pinex ceilings, and just...no thanks. The way that stuff burns, if there was a fire got started anywhere in the house, it'd spread all over in minutes. And for ways I don't wanna die? That's kinda tops."

I nodded, and he continued;

"I'm painting it as I go. I did the master bedroom first so I could let it. I've done the bathroom, I'm about to start work on my room. Hey, seeing as you're an expert, would you mind looking at my fuse-box? We go through probably two light-bulbs a week here and I'm just wondering if something's wrong."

The mere mention of the word 'fuse-box' had me tensing up a little, but when I actually saw it?

"Holy fuck!" I hissed, instinctively clapping a hand over my eyes, peering out through the slits between my fingers, kinda wanting to believe that it wasn't that bad, but it was...

"Sooo...not good?" Reid prompted.

"Ahh, yeah," I gulped. "To be clear about the scale of the...not good? In addition to it just being too old and too inadequate for the number of appliances a modern house runs, there's moisture ingress."

I waved vaguely with the hand that wasn't over my face to the corner with all the tidemarks, then decided to just turn my back so I didn't have to see.

"Reid? That is a fucking train crash. That is an Ever Given-sized accident waiting to happen. You don't want to burn to death in your bed? Then Get. That. Replaced. With a proper switchboard. Like, literally as soon as you can afford it. And in the meantime, turn everything except the fridge off at the wall when you're not using it."

Reid was looking pale by now. "Ugh. You're not kidding, are you?"

I shook my head. "Sorry. I know it's not what anybody wants to hear, but yeah...take it seriously. Just so you know, it'll cost about $1200, and unfortunately I can't do it for you because you actually need an inspector's certificate to sign off a switchboard and I don't have one. But once it's done, I could re-wire the place for you, because based on what I see here, it'd probably be wise."

He blew out his breath and tugged on his hair, then he tipped his head back and regarded the ceiling, then he looked at me and went to say something then didn't - then he started laughing. Like, really laughing.

"Okay...what?" I said.

He managed to mostly stop. "It's - I was just thinking...my whole hot tradie fantasy has taken an epic hammering here...this scenario is the absolute furthest thing from sexy."

Of course that made me laugh too. "Don't worry," I told him. "I'm really into my job, but switchboards don't get me hard either. Or giant bills."

I saw a gleam come into his eyes as he ran his tongue slowly over his lips. "Bet I can get you hard, though. Even after this. Yeah?"

Yeah. I was most of the way there before he'd dragged me back to the lounge and urged me onto the couch, only from anticipation. Because if he gave head half as well as he kissed...

"Wait," I said, closing my hand over his as he was working my shorts open. "Is it, like, safe out here? Or should we go to your bedroom? I don't want your flatmate to walk in on, uhh..."

Reid looked up at me, shaking his head. "Nah, Matthias is over in the Coromandel somewhere, bushwhacking as usual. He's tramping-mad. Works from home for some IT company during the week so I guess he gets a bit of cabin fever. He's basically never here in the weekends unless the weather's impressively shit. But we can go to the bedroom if you'd be more comfy..."

He'd been sliding his hand up the leg of my shorts as he spoke, a finger inside my boxers, and was now stroking gently at one of my balls...

"I'm plenty comfy right here," I told him, easing my arse forward on the couch, spreading my legs to give him more room.

I didn't stay comfy. Which is not to say I didn't have the best, best time...

He got my shorts down and off and over there somewhere and shoved my t-shirt up around my armpits and ran both hands over my stomach and chest, up and down, up and down...

"Oh my god, J," he breathed. "This is just...fuck, you have no idea...all the furry dudes are usually like, fifty, and I don't really do the daddy thing, but this..."

He trailed off and just stared until I took hold of my dick and waggled it meaningfully, slapping it against one of his wrists.

"And yeah, that's a very nice piece of meat," he purred. "Very nice."

"Why don't you taste it?" I prompted, as he 'mmmm-ed' agreement and shuffled forward on his shins, reaching for his glasses. I shook my head.

"Leave them on, eh?"

He shrugged uncomfortably. "They're...not great for looking at stuff real close up..."

I took hold of his chin and raised it. "I like them. And besides, you're gonna be looking at me," tapping my cheekbone, "aren't you? Mmm?"

He nodded, blinking slowly and innocently up at me with those fawn-like eyelashes. And then he opened his mouth and swallowed my dick whole. In one go.

Okay, I'd been prepared for him to be good. And yeah, I'd suspected he could throat after that performance with the sandwich. But still, in my experience most people need to warm up to it. Nope. Straight to the root. And then he...turned on the jets, or something.

It really did feel a bit like that. Like my dick was in its own personal spa pool. Hot and wet and relaxing and stimulating and swirling and vibrating and oh god, powerful. All that suction, and the muscular gyrations of his throat and...

Two or three minutes in, I started to regret having held off that morning, because I felt like I wasn't gonna last very much longer, but I didn't want it to end...

Maybe Reid read my mind. More likely he read my body. He scissored his middle and index fingers above my ballsack and tugged gently down until the skin was taut, trapping my balls, taking my focus momentarily away from his expert attentions to my shaft, and the sense of being on the edge passed.

It passed, and reappeared, and passed, and reappeared, and the interplay of his thumb running in a figure of eight across the by-now sopping wet skin of my balls, and the oral action - it was like getting two blowjobs at once in some sort of counterpoint - too much near-continuously and then in the crucial moment...never quite enough...