13. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Jeff

S itting at the bar, Jeff threw back his second whiskey sour and then inadvertently slammed the tumbler onto the counter when he was finished, causing Gary to flinch. Everyone else from their little storm-chaser group was engaged in conversation, chattering happily, celebrating the fact that they’d seen two tornadoes in the last couple of days—a practically unheard-of experience, even for folks who lived in the region. But Jeff couldn’t bring himself to feel celebratory. His thoughts kept returning to the moment when Gary had kissed him.

The moment their lips touched, Jeff had felt a tiny blip of excitement, but then that excitement had been followed by a whole mess of fear and self-hatred. And, fuck, how could he have reacted that way to Gary’s touch? Gentle, kind, patient Gary who cared for him, who would never hurt anyone, who liked corny puns and preferred to eat burgers made with mashed vegetables. What the hell was wrong with him? Angry with himself, Jeff had stopped their kiss, knowing that if he forced himself to keep kissing Gary, he might end up pushing his radio man away entirely. Emotionally. Physically. Both. It was like Newton’s law. Equal and opposite reactions. Something beyond his control. And it was fucking humiliating.

So, Jeff had broken their kiss and had broken Gary’s spirit right along with it. And then, in the car, Jeff hadn’t even been able to look at him, to touch him. It had been too much, knowing how he’d hurt Gary, the one person who had only ever shown him kindness. Even now, Jeff still couldn’t really face that truth—the truth about how much he’d fucked this up. Alcohol wasn’t helping. Time wasn’t helping. Nothing was helping. Jeff’s stomach churned with shame.

When Jeff ordered a third cocktail, he tried not to notice how Gary’s forehead creased with worry. But of course he noticed. Jeff’s cheeks burned hotter.

“Jeff, I’m really sorry,” Gary said.

“Don’t be.”

Jeff wanted to tell Gary not to worry. He wanted to reassure him that they’d move past this, that eventually they’d kiss and fuck and cuddle and everything would be like it was supposed to be. But...

Fuck, what if that would be a lie? What if he was so Goddamn broken that he’d become incapable of ever experiencing physical intimacy with someone without eventually falling to pieces? Maybe no matter how slow they moved, he and Gary couldn’t ever be what Jeff wanted them to be.

Thirty more minutes passed. Jeff still hadn’t said much. Neither had Gary. Sometimes they’d both try to look like they were interested in the conversations happening around them, but neither of them really were. Jeff could feel Gary’s lingering unease. It intertwined with his own, both emotions continuing to turn in his stomach, mixing with the booze from the cocktails he’d consumed and making him feel sick.

Both of them were still stuck in the storm, standing in front of the funnel, Jeff’s reaction to Gary’s kiss so catastrophic, it had put that nearby tornado to shame.

Needing to move, Jeff hopped off the stool and started toward the jukebox. Head swimming, he nearly tripped over his own two feet. Gary followed .

“Do you hate me now?” Gary asked.

Jeff whirled around so fast he nearly fell over, but he somehow managed to steady himself.

“What?”

“I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

Gary’s words cut like a knife.

“Christ, Gare,” Jeff huffed, wincing from the pain. Leaning in closer, he lowered his voice so that none of the other patrons would hear him. “Of course you should have kissed me. I wanted you to kiss me. But...”

Unable to stand the sadness shimmering in Gary’s eyes, Jeff looked away.

“Gare, can you take us back to the motel?”

“Of course,” Gary said without hesitation. “I only had half a beer.”

After letting everyone else know they were heading back, they left for the motel. And holy hell, was Gary a terrible driver. No wonder he preferred his bike. For the entire ten-minute trip, Gary kept braking both too hard and too frequently, causing the booze in Jeff’s stomach to slosh back and forth with each jolt of the car. All the way, Jeff had to concentrate on keeping the contents of his stomach—those multiple cocktails he’d had—from spilling out onto the floor mat. He felt like a fucking sailor trying to find his sea legs. It seemed like Gary knew how bad of a driver he was too. Every time he slammed on the brakes or inadvertently sped up too much, he’d say stuff like “Gosh, your brakes are sensitive” or “Boy, it must be obvious that I haven’t driven in a while, huh?” Jeff would have probably found the commentary funny if he hadn’t been busy fighting back the urge to retch.

Once they were back at the motel, Jeff hurried inside, leaving Gary to follow, and ran straight into the bathroom. Collapsing on his knees in front of the toilet, Jeff emptied the contents of his stomach. God, he’d had way, way too much alcohol.

While Jeff’s head hung over the bowl, he couldn’t keep his mind from returning to the times he’d seen his mother in a similarly sorry state, and shame crept up the back of his neck, making his face burn. Gary was only a few feet away, listening to every horrible sound of Jeff’s failure to control himself. But how else was he supposed to cope with the realization that his and Gary’s relationship might be on the road to nowhere?

After another minute or so, Gary came into the bathroom, although he lingered by the entryway.

“I can’t believe I caused this,” Gary said.

And Jeff’s stomach churned again. Gary was... blaming himself?

Bile started to rise in Jeff’s throat, and before he could even try to swallow it back, he was heaving the last bits of bar nuts and whiskey into the toilet.

When he was finished, he flushed the toilet and then tried to speak.

“It’s . . . not . . . you . . . radio man,” Jeff managed, his throat still raw and tight. “It’s me.”

Gary remarked, “Isn’t that a cliché?”

Good ol’ Gary Graham trying to make him smile. His legs now sore from kneeling, Jeff rocked backward to sit on the tile and pulled his knees close to his chest, some of his nauseating guilt thankfully having been quelled by Gary’s playfulness.

“Yeah, you’re right. It is you,” Jeff said, forcing himself to look at Gary. “You’re perfect, Gare. Why’d you have to make me like you?”

Gary snorted. “ Make you? ”

“With your sexy voice and your cute face.” Jeff smiled back, but then he heaved a sigh, resting his forehead on his bent knees. “I kept telling myself not to like you, but here we are.”

“I’m sorry,” Gary said, his voice smaller and more serious and— fuck —not playful in the least.

Jeff felt like such an asshole.

He looked up to see Gary rubbing the back of his neck, shuffling back a step.

“I’ll, uh, be out here if you need me.”

Burying his head in his knees once more, Jeff mumbled a soft, “’Kay.”

For the next hour or so, Jeff stayed in the bathroom, replaying all of his fuckups in his head. He just couldn’t comprehend it. Why would Gary put up with this shit?

Eventually, Jeff couldn’t take sitting on the uncomfortable tile floor anymore, and he stood up and hobbled back to the bedroom. It was pitch-black.

Taking care not to wake Gary, Jeff slowly maneuvered through the room to his bed. Once he was settled, he tried to sleep too, but the whiskey was making him feel like he was trapped on a carousel. Around and around he went. Up and down. Letting out a soft, pained-sounding moan, Jeff rolled to his side, hoping it would help. But it didn’t. Of course it didn’t. Everything continued to spin. And all the while, Jeff’s thoughts kept returning to how terrible he felt for everything that had happened. He hadn’t wanted to hurt Gary. Ever.

But he had.

He was a selfish bastard, wasn’t he? He’d been the one to initiate that first phone sex session. He’d been the one to pull Gary into the path of this... this tornado .

Over the next few hours, Jeff continued to toss and turn, hoping and praying that by some fucking miracle, he and Gary could make it through the storm.

***

Mercifully, the forecast pointed to sunny skies for the rest of the week, providing Jeff with the perfect excuse to head back home early. For the first couple of hours of their trip, Gary and Jeff sat in silence, watching the corn and wheat fields pass by, but then, eventually, Gary put on one of Jeff’s tapes—Nat King Cole—and the sound of one of his favorite singers helped Jeff feel a little more relaxed, every note easing some tension in his body.

When it was lunchtime, Jeff picked a random exit near Joplin, Missouri, and they drove around a bit until they found a small pub right on the edge of a forest, the change in scenery a nice break from the seemingly endless fields of wheat and corn they’d been driving through for hours.

Lunch was more of the same—awkward silence only punctuated by an occasional comment here or there from one of them. Jeff hated every second, and he hated himself even more, knowing it was all his fault.

Once they were finished eating, Jeff threw some cash on the table, exited the pub, and started toward his car. Gary followed, and Jeff could even hear the tension in Gary’s footsteps right behind him.

Until they stopped.

Jeff turned to see Gary studying a sign.

“What’s that?” Jeff asked, starting back toward him .

“It says there’s a little waterfall only a couple miles’ walk from here.” Gary pointed to what looked to be a trail that ran off into the forest behind the pub. “I’d be up for it.”

Pursing his lips, Jeff’s eyes flitted back to the sign. “Hm.”

“What do you think?” Gary asked. “Car break?”

Maybe being out in nature might help his mood. Poor Gary had been a saint so far to put up with his silence and surliness.

“Yeah, sure,” Jeff agreed, attempting a smile.

Gary smiled back, though it looked a bit tight, and then, side by side, the two of them walked along the trail through the woods. Surprisingly, there weren’t any other people on the trail. When Jeff realized that they were alone—a half mile or so from civilization, too—he forced himself to sit with the thought for a few seconds to see if it made him feel uncomfortable. He was in the woods with a man, one who very clearly wanted to have sex with him, and there was no one else around.

Jeff repeated this to himself. Several times. Bracing himself for a wave of panic.

But one never came.

Gary turned to him and smiled, a more relaxed smile this time. And Jeff smiled back.

He wasn’t scared. Not in the least.

They continued to walk. And Jeff continued to think back on their kiss.

Shame trickled up the back of Jeff’s neck, turning his ears hot. Why had he felt so afraid? Because Gary was trying to show him how much he liked him? How much he wanted him? Jeff liked that Gary wanted him. He loved it. So, why the hell had he panicked?

More than anything, Jeff wanted the two of them to be together. He wanted to be Gary’s boyfriend. Hell, if he was being honest with himself, he kind of wanted to be Gary’s forever boyfriend. Didn’t matter that Gary had yet to touch him sexually. Because this connection they had, it was special. It was a forever kind of special.

“Hey, Gare?” Jeff said, reaching for Gary’s hand.

Gary’s first reaction was to recoil, and Jeff tried not to collapse in on himself from the punch of pain and humiliation that subsequently slammed into his stomach.

He began to pull back, but Gary stopped him, taking his hand. And their fingers laced together so perfectly, like they were just meant to be right like that. After all the silence and awkwardness and tension from the last day, it felt so amazing.

Jeff sucked in a breath and said, “Sorry for... everything.”

“I’m the one who should be sorry,” Gary mumbled, his voice small.

“No,” Jeff said, squeezing Gary’s hand. “Never be sorry for wanting normal boyfriend shit.”

“I should have been more sensitive.”

“Nah, come on, Gare. It was a perfect moment. Kissing me while we watched a fucking tornado? Dream come true.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

After a few more steps, Gary stopped walking. Jeff stopped too.

“I want you to initiate things from now on,” Gary said. “Or, for a while.”

“Yeah, no problem, Gare.”

“I never want to mess up like that again.”

“I told you, it wasn’t—”

“I know, I know, but you know what I mean, right?”

With a sigh, Jeff said, “Yeah. I know.”

They started walking again, hand in hand, and it wasn’t much longer before they reached the waterfall. It wasn’t a big one—truthfully, it was a bit of a stretch to even call it a waterfall—but it was kind of nice. They stopped together and stood there, watching the water from the small stream crash into the pool below. Underneath the treetop canopy, the late-spring heat of the Midwest was tolerable, and the burbling sound of the water helped Jeff feel even more at ease. And although they continued to hold hands, it just wasn’t enough. Jeff wanted more. He needed more. More importantly, he needed to be better. For Gary.

Letting go of Gary’s hand, Jeff moved in front of him. Then he reached for both of Gary’s hands, took them, and wrapped himself up in a backward hug.

“You’re okay with this?” Gary asked as Jeff leaned against him.

It was both sweet and infuriating that Gary felt the need to ask about something so small.

“Yeah. I won’t break, Gare.”

Gary nuzzled the side of Jeff’s head and squeezed Jeff a little tighter. “Okay.”

Over the next few minutes, they stood like that, like a real couple, and Jeff’s chest swelled from the rush of both relief and happiness. It was a miracle—well, a pathetic kind of miracle, really—that Gary’s touch was making him feel safe. Ever since Don, no one else’s touch had really felt safe.

So maybe... maybe everything really would be okay between the two of them. Maybe they’d figure things out. Maybe Jeff would get better. Because Gary deserved better.

They continued to stand there, enjoying the sight of the piss-poor excuse for a waterfall, while Jeff snuggled closer to Gary and found the courage to hope.

** *

That night, Jeff lay in his bed in the motel, trying to sleep but failing miserably. All afternoon and into the evening, he’d been utterly unable to stop silently obsessing over everything that had happened between him and Gary. Sure, the two of them had been fine the rest of the way to the motel. They’d held hands some more and shared cheese fries for dinner and enjoyed some more of Gary’s shitty music in the car. On the surface, everything seemed to be back to normal.

But Jeff kept mentally beating the shit out of himself.

Rolling to his side, Jeff looked over at Gary sleeping in his own bed, only barely visible from the low light spilling in from the bathroom. Watching Gary’s chest slowly rise and fall with each breath, Jeff kicked himself for not initiating something physical earlier in the evening. One of their mutual masturbation sessions at the very least. He’d been half expecting Gary to break his word and initiate something instead. But that had been a stupid thing to hope for. Gary was a man of his word. And Jeff loved that about him.

Jeff heaved a sigh. Maybe they’d try tomorrow.

He shut his eyes and tried to sleep again. Minutes passed.

Eventually, Jeff opened one eye and whispered, “Gare?”

No response. Gary was really out of it. After a couple more minutes of torturous silence, Jeff climbed out of bed and walked over to Gary’s, shimmying underneath the covers. Roused by the movement, Gary turned to face him.

“Hm?” he mumbled, eyes fluttering open before closing again.

“Hey,” Jeff said in a hushed voice before curling closer .

He waited for Gary to hug him, but somehow, Gary still had the wherewithal to keep his hands to himself. Frustrated, Jeff lifted one of Gary’s arms, hooking it over his own shoulder, and then he wrapped a leg around Gary’s midsection, pressing his stiffening cock to Gary’s thigh.

“I think we forgot our nightly beat-off session,” he said, intentionally shifting his hips forward a little.

Gary mumbled something incoherent, seemingly still teetering on the edge of consciousness.

Moving his hips once more, Jeff inhaled a whiff of Gary’s intoxicating scent and moaned. Fuck, he couldn’t take the torture of being pressed up next to the sexiest man he’d ever met in his whole life for even one more second. He needed to touch Gary again. Needed to see him writhe in pleasure. Needed to watch him come. Jeff had been plenty comfortable with touching Gary before. And now he wanted to try something new.

“Gare...” Jeff cupped one of his hands to Gary’s flaccid cock, which was finally enough to startle him awake. “Can I touch you? Uh, more than this, I mean? Sorry.”

Gary chuckled softly. “I was sleeping.”

“I know, but I wasn’t.”

“Mmm...” Gary stretched a little. “Of course you can touch me.”

Jeff sat up to switch on the little lamp on the nightstand and then settled back on the mattress. Slipping his hand inside Gary’s briefs, Jeff’s hand immediately found Gary’s shaft, causing Gary to suck in a breath through his teeth.

Gary’s beautiful cock became hard in seconds.

And then Jeff started to stroke him.

“Oh God . . .” Gary let out a breath. “Jeff . . .”

Gary’s next moan—one that sounded so fucking needy—set Jeff’s body ablaze, making his cock throb. He wasn’t feeling fearful or panicked or contending with the urge to pull away. Instead, the only thing on his mind was the intense need to make the infamous Gary Graham of WKbr come undone. And he wanted to come too. It was taking everything he had not to yield to the temptation to take Gary’s hand and wrap it around his own weeping member, to let Gary stroke him to orgasm. But he couldn’t risk it. No Goddamn way he’d let himself mess everything up between them a second time now.

Moving his hand up and down Gary’s length, Jeff nuzzled his face into Gary’s chest. He started kissing Gary over the fabric of his oversized T-shirt. And then started moving lower.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

Gary made a little sound—between a hum and a laugh—and Jeff’s chest warmed from picturing Gary’s sweet smile. So. Fucking. Cute.

“You’re not talking about kissing my mouth, are you?” Gary asked.

“Nope.”

Jeff pressed his free hand to Gary’s chest, urging him onto his back, and then lifted Gary’s shirt so that he could kiss his bare stomach instead.

Pausing between kisses, Jeff said, “So, yes?”

“Y-yeah, if you’re sure. I want you to feel comfortable.”

“I’m fine, radio man,” Jeff said, continuing to kiss lower, his lips moving below Gary’s belly button to the little trail of hair that led to paradise.

When Jeff neared Gary’s cock, the smell alone nearly sent him over the edge. Christ, the scent was like every other part of Gary, but intensified. Jeff pulled Gary’s briefs to his knees, and then Gary wriggled out of them the rest of the way .

Reverently, Jeff placed one kiss on the head of Gary’s cock. Lifting his head, he licked his lips to taste the bit of precum that had been waiting for him. Delicious.

“So sweet, Gare,” Jeff said before kissing him again.

Gary whined in that mind-numbingly beautiful way of his.

“I love those little sounds of yours,” Jeff said.

He took Gary’s head into his mouth and sucked.

“ Fuck , Jeff,” Gary breathed.

Jeff couldn’t stop himself from smiling around Gary’s cock. Gary never seemed to fail to make Jeff feel good about himself. Gary Goddamn Graham. He was perfect.

Jeff circled the head of Gary’s cock with his tongue, and on the second rotation, Gary started squirming against the mattress as a series of silly not-quite-expletives tumbled from his lips.

“Stay still for me, baby,” Jeff said.

He quickly took Gary’s cock into his mouth, his cheeks warming with embarrassment from the random nickname he’d uttered. He had no idea whether Gary’d like something like that. Christ, they weren’t even officially together, but Jeff felt such a fierce tenderness toward him.

Determined to move past the tiny bit of embarrassment that still lingered, Jeff turned his focus back to Gary’s cock. Cupping Gary’s balls with his left hand, Jeff wrapped his right hand around Gary’s shaft and started teasing the head with his tongue. Gary moaned and whimpered and made some other sound, and after a few more seconds of very fun teasing, Jeff took Gary into his mouth again. He continued to bob his head, taking more and more of Gary’s cock into his mouth with each motion.

Very softly, Jeff squeezed Gary’s balls, coaxing another whine from Gary’s lips. His own cock throbbed as he moved his head faster, every single one of Gary’s sounds making his body burn for his own release .

But then, Gary’s hand came to settle atop Jeff’s neck, and that familiar bolt of panic streaked through Jeff’s body. He froze, the shock nearly making him pull off Gary’s cock completely.

Gary’s hand moved to his cheek. “God, Jeffrey,” he murmured. “You’re wonderful.”

Once again, that nickname, that silly little nickname, helped calm Jeff’s racing heart, the sweetness of Gary’s words like a magical incantation. Jeff took a breath through his nose.

Safe. He was safe.

Carefully, Jeff lowered his head, taking Gary’s cock to the back of his throat, wanting nothing more than to show Gary how thankful he was for their not-yet-relationship, to return the kindness and patience and loyalty that Gary continued to show him each and every day.

And every last bit of frigid panic vanished, replaced instead by Gary’s warmth.

Thank fucking God.

Feeling more confident, Jeff increased the speed of his movements.

With a soft whine, Gary said, “Can I come in your mouth?”

And the instant Jeff nodded, Gary came. Warm cum spurted into Jeff’s mouth. Slowing his strokes, Jeff swallowed every Goddamn drop.

He sat up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You okay?” Gary asked, eyes dazed.

“I need to come,” Jeff blurted out, scooting up and falling onto his back. “Mind if I finish myself?”

“Of course not.”

Wrapping a hand around his length, Jeff closed his eyes, mentally replaying those beautiful little sounds Gary had been making. He couldn’t believe how comfortable Gary was with him, how he had let himself curse and moan and whine. Jeff smiled to himself .

After a moment, he looked over at Gary and said, “You’re so fucking cute, Gare Bear.”

Gary’s cheeks turned the loveliest shade of pink.

“Geez, Jeff, you’re too much.”

“I know.” Tightening his grip, Jeff moved his hand faster. “Baby, I’m close.” There that nickname was again. Baby. He couldn’t seem to help it. “Thinking about those sounds you make...” Jeff’s hips lifted off the mattress, his toes starting to curl. “Cutest fucking sounds I’ve ever heard.”

Before Gary could even respond, Jeff was coming over his fist.

Gary let out a breath and said, “Ho-ly shit, you’re so hot.”

Jeff’s chest warmed, the surge of happiness making him feel like he might burst. Closing his eyes, Jeff let himself become lost to bliss, treasuring the moment.

“Thanks, Gare,” he said. “For everything.”

After they cleaned up, they snuggled next to each other in bed, and for the next half hour, Jeff lay awake, feeling warm and safe in Gary’s arms. It was incredible to him—unbelievable, really—that he felt so comfortable with Gary now. Even though he’d had that stupid knee-jerk reaction of panic earlier, he had worked through it, and thank God for that.

Snuggling close to the sweetest man he’d ever met, Jeff promised himself to keep trying, to continue pushing forward, to always work on being better. Because Jeff wanted everything with Gary.

Every Goddamn thing.