42. Jeremy

Jeremy drove them to his house while Davis FaceTimed Alex to check on Mary Anne. Jeremy tried not to laugh as Davis insisted that Alex “put Mary Anne on the phone,” and his heart felt like it might burst out of his chest when Davis told Mary Anne about his day at the museum.

“You know,” Jeremy said, once Davis had hung up, telling Mary Anne that he would see her tomorrow. “You can bring Mary Anne down to Vanberg if you want.”

Davis looked over at him, his face full of surprise. “You sure?”

“Why would I not be sure?” Jeremy said, slightly offended. “I just offered it.”

“Well, you know,” Davis said, smirking, “your place is…tidy. Mary Anne is a dog.”

“I like dogs.”

“Yes, but—”

“I like Mary Anne.”

“I know, and—”

“Does Mary Anne not like me?” Jeremy suddenly decided that one dog’s approval meant the world to him.

“No.” Davis chuckled. “She does. Well, she likes everyone—” Jeremy scoffed “—But she especially likes you. It’s just, I don’t want to ruin your space. I know how important your house is to you, and I would feel terrible if Mary Anne ruined your uncomfortable couch or that weird chair you never sit on.”

“I doubt many dogs are drawn to Eames chairs.” Jeremy laughed as he parked the car in front of his house.

“Did you name your chair?”

“It’s after the designers.”

“Sound like a bunch of weirdos,” Davis said, hopping out of the car.

“Most artists are,” Jeremy replied.

Davis shot him a grin that was pure joy, with an undercurrent of lust. “I like weirdos.” He stayed close to Jeremy as he unlocked the door, his rough hands already sliding around his hips. Shoes were kicked off, bags tossed on the floor, and Jeremy turned to Davis, one last futile attempt to be a host before he dragged Davis into his bedroom.

“Do you want a seltzer?” Jeremy asked.

“I think there are other things that I’d like to have,” Davis said, unbuttoning his jeans.

“Oh, well, in that case,” Jeremy said, smiling like a fool as he took Davis’s hand and headed back to his bedroom. They tumbled onto the bed, laughing in a way that felt euphoric, the way he felt the one time he had gone to Vail and gotten altitude sickness. He’d purchased a small canister of pure oxygen, and on one quick inhale, his mind had cleared, and everything had immediately felt better.

With Davis underneath him, his strong thighs pressing out against Jeremy’s own legs, loose and supple, Jeremy felt the same way.

“What did you have in mind tonight?” Jeremy asked, slipping his fingers underneath the hem of Davis’s shirt, enjoying the sensation of the hair that led both up and down.

“Um,” Davis hedged. “I’m good with anything.”

Jeremy gave him a look. “Baby, anything is a broad concept.”

Davis laughed in agreement. “Okay, fine. I was more concerned with getting our clothes off, and then my brain kind of went hazy afterward.” He blushed. “I mean, maybe we stick to hands and mouths tonight?”

Jeremy could work with that. He preferred to be fucked anyway, didn’t want to be the one to do the fucking, but as long as Davis was involved, Jeremy was sure that it would end in a good time, and they would both be boneless.

Before Jeremy could communicate the rest of that to Davis, he kept talking. “I mean, definitely, yeah, everything eventually, but it’s been a while since I’ve fucked anyone, and I want to make sure I don’t shoot off in three seconds.”

Jeremy pressed a kiss to Davis’s belly. “I’m on your schedule. For what it’s worth, I’m not into topping, if that’s okay. Hands and mouths anywhere, though.”

“Hands and mouths,” Davis repeated. “So that means shirt off, yeah?”

“That means everything off, baby,” Jeremy said, helping Davis with his shirt, and then his pants. Keeping his own clothes on, a bit more of that control seeping into his blood, Jeremy made his way toward Davis’s cock, hard and thick, his hands gripping Davis’s hips, the fingertips digging in. Jeremy loved the way Davis was softer, muscle underneath, but flesh that gave and curved.

“Jeremy,” Davis said, his voice straining. Which made sense, as Jeremy had just placed a tentative, teasing lick to the ridge of his cock.

“Yeah, baby?” Jeremy teased, letting the tip of Davis’s cock rest against his lower lip.

“Can you put”— he took a breath— “can you put your hands on me?”

“Where?”

“Can you reach my mouth?”

Jeremy maneuvered himself to the side, hiding his grin in Davis’s hip, using it as an excuse to scrape his teeth at the dip where his thigh met his hip, which earned him a pleased moan from Davis. Keeping his right hand cupping Davis’s balls, fingers toying with the space just behind, Jeremy slid his left hand up the contours of Davis’s chest, through the hair, over the bump of his collarbone, and pressed two fingers against his lips. Davis opened for him eagerly, pulling his fingers into his mouth in a way that had Jeremy grinding his hips against the bed. Davis continued to suck, and Jeremy went back to his previous task, the sideways angle creating a new sensation in his own mouth. Grazing his teeth along the shaft, Jeremy smiled, then took him deeper, humming and willing his throat to open just a bit more.

“Dear god, babe, fuck,” Davis hissed against Jeremy’s fingers. “I’m gonna—”

“In my mouth,” Jeremy said, pulling off long enough to get the words out before returning. He was glad he was quick, because it took two more deep sucks, two more jerks of Davis’s hips, before he spilled down the back of Jeremy’s throat, a salty wave that reminded Jeremy of how much he enjoyed sex, especially when it got a little messy. Testing the limits, he sat up, made eye contact with Davis, his lips open slightly so he could see, then swallowed.

“Fuck,” Davis said, his head falling back on the pillows. “All right, my turn,” he continued, but made no movement. “Okay, just kidding. You may have killed me.”

Jeremy laughed, kissing that spot on his thigh one more time, then sat up and quickly took his own clothes off. He pulled off his briefs, found himself leaking already. Running his thumb over the head, Jeremy collected the bit of precum there, then tapped Davis’s lip. “Baby, you don’t need to do anything,” he said, pressing down, feeling a jump in his cock when Davis’s tongue swiped at the pad of his thumb. “Can I just look at you? And—” Jeremy looked down at himself and gave a stroke that he hoped emphasized what he was hoping for.

“On me?” Davis asked sweetly, and Jeremy thought he might come right then and there. It wasn’t much longer, though, with Davis’s lower lip pulled between his teeth and his gold-green eyes bouncing between Jeremy’s face, Jeremy’s hand on his cock, and Jeremy’s left hand, which he used to brace himself over Davis’s torso.

“Close,” Jeremy warned, and Davis made eye contact, sending him over the edge, painting Davis’s chest and stomach. He groaned through the last vestiges of his orgasm, gaze glued to the way Davis looked down at his body, a bit in awe, like he couldn’t believe this was happening. Jeremy slipped his pointer finger through his release, smearing it around a patch of chest hair. “That was fucking sexy,” he said.

“Yeah,” Davis agreed. Jeremy took one more moment to look, to capture this mental image, then turned and found the pack of wipes in his drawer. He pulled one out and used it to clean the majority of the cum. “I can get it,” Davis said, his hand wrapping over Jeremy’s own.

“You let me get you messy. Let me clean you up.” He gave one more wipe, then chucked the wipe into the trash. “Be back. I’m getting a washcloth. Want a seltzer?”

Davis laughed and got up himself. “I can get it. I know where the kitchen is.” He aimed himself toward the hallway before Jeremy reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him back.

“Baby, I have neighbors, and my blinds are open,” he said. “Mrs. Anderson might keel over dead if she sees you walking through my kitchen au natural.”

“Good point.” Davis laughed, sitting back down. “Cities are a bit different.” He looked a bit embarrassed when he added, “You know that.”

“Yeah, but different is good,” Jeremy added, kissing Davis’s knuckles once before he headed to the bathroom.