There was no hesitation now. No fear of the door opening. No listening for the floorboards to creak.
Wes’s hand slid down Jake’s back, finding the waistband of his briefs. “Yeah. I’ll make you warm.”
They shucked their underwear under the covers, kicking it to the bottom of the bed. The friction of skin on skin was electric.Wes reached for the nightstand drawer, fumbling in the dark for the tube of lube he kept there for solo sessions.
He paused, the tube in his hand, looking at Jake in the shadows.
“Jake,” Wes said, his voice rough. “I don’t have?—”
“It’s okay,” Jake said quickly, breathless. “I’m safe. I had a full physical and bloodwork the week before I came to Spoon—company policy for our additional insurance. Results are on my phone. I’m negative across the board.”
“I believe you,” Wes said instantly. “I haven’t been with anyone in three years. And I’ve had physicals since then. I’m clean.”
“I trust you,” Jake breathed, opening his legs, tilting his hips up. “I trust you with everything.”
Wes slicked his hand with the jelly. The scent was familiar, grounding. He reached between them, stroking Jake until a moan escaped his lips, then Wes moved his hand lower, finding the burgeoning heat between Jake’s legs.
Jake gasped, burying his face in the crook of Wes’s neck. “Yes. Please, yes.”
Wes took his time. He used his fingers to open Jake up, careful and slow, respecting the cold, respecting the exhaustion. But Jake was eager, pressing back against Wes’s hand, desperate for the connection, for the proof that he was alive and safe.
When Wes finally moved over him, bracing his weight on his elbows to keep the heavy blankets tented around them, Jake looked up. His eyes were dark pools in the shadows.
“Mine,” Wes growled softly.
He pushed inside.
The heat was blinding. It was a stark, beautiful contrast to the ice coating the windowpane barely five feet away. Jake let out a wrecked sound, wrapping his legs around Wes’s waist, pulling him deeper, anchoring him.
Wes moved with a slow, grinding rhythm. He didn’t want to rush. He wanted to feel every inch. He wanted to erase the distance of the last twenty-four hours. He wanted to burn the memory of the ditch out of Jake’s mind with every thrust.
“I love you,” Wes said, the words tumbling out against Jake’s neck. “I love you, Jake.”
“Love you,” Jake sobbed, clutching Wes’s shoulders. “So much.”
They moved together until the friction was unbearable, until the heat under the covers was a physical weight. When Jake came, he cried out, his body arching off the mattress. Wes followed him seconds later, burying his face in Jake’s shoulder, pouring everything he had into the man who had fought his way through a storm to get to him.
They collapsed, chests heaving, sweat cooling rapidly on their skin.
Wes didn’t pull away. He stayed there, holding Jake, keeping him grounded. But as their breathing slowed, something shifted in him. A wall he hadn’t known was there—a wall built of pride, and leading the family, and always having to be the rock—crumbled.
He wanted to give that up. Just for a moment. He wanted to be held.
He rolled off, but he didn’t let go. He maneuvered them, shifting until he was on his back. He looked up at Jake.
“Wes?” Jake asked, confused, hand hovering over Wes’s chest.
“I trust you, too,” Wes said. His voice was vulnerable, stripped bare in the dark. “With everything. I want... I need you to have me.”
He handed Jake the tube from the nightstand.
Jake went still. He understood what this was. This wasn’t just sex; this was Wes laying his burden down. It was the ultimatesurrender of control from a man who gripped control like a lifeline.
Jake’s touch was reverent. He kissed Wes deeply, tasting the salt of dried tears. He prepped Wes slowly, murmuring praises that Wes absorbed like parched earth absorbing rain.
“You’re beautiful,” Jake said. “You’re so strong. Let me take it for a while. Let me take the weight.”
When Jake slid inside him, Wes came undone.
