Again, Rye’s hand tightened on Jake’s shirt, and Jake screwed his eyes shut, his heart aching with all of his boyfriend’s pain.
He let his hand rub slowly and ever so gently down Rye’s arm, making sure Rye was still okay with the touch, and then he breathed deeply and said words he hoped would help. “I don’t want that either. I know a lot of gay men do. Maybe, uh, most gay men. I’m not really sure. And I know that, well, I’ve never really even had feelings like this before—where I even want intimacy with another person at all. Not until this. Not until you. But, um,that”—he swallowed, not wanting to inadvertently push Rye to a worse place—“um, having sex in that way, if wearetalking about the same thing...” Rye nodded, his body still tense. Jake kissed the top of Rye’s head and then continued, telling Ryehistruth. “Yeah, that—that’sreally just something I’m not interested in. It’s never been something I’ve been interested in.”
For the first time since they’d settled on the couch together, Rye pulled away, though he did so slowly, almost reluctantly. He turned until he was facing Jake, sitting cross-legged, and he crossed his arms over his midsection, shrinking in on himself.
Jake frowned. “Sorry, I—”
“No, it’s . . . it’s okay,” Rye assured him, and he let out another breath. “I just need a minute without . . . without . . .”
Touching. Without Jake touching him. Because it was becoming overwhelming. Jake could almosthearthose words, even though Rye hadn’t said them, and he nodded. “Of course, yeah.”
“You can... you can keep talking, though. I... like to hear you talk. It helps. I just need a little space. Just... just for a few minutes.”
“I can do that. What do you want me to talk about?”
“Dolphins,” Rye answered immediately. “Tell me about dolphins.”
Jake smiled weakly. “I can talk about dolphins all day. Ah, how about I tell you about this time I went down to this marine mammal rehabilitation center in Los Angeles, and I got to actually get in the water with a dolphin named Gigi. I was fifteen, I think. It was amazing. So...”
And so he talked. He told Rye about that trip he’d taken, although he couldn’t really remember a lot of the details. When that story was done, he started talking about something else—still dolphins, but this time mostly about the dolphins he’d seen in this area, from his patio. Pacific white-sided dolphins, mostly, and some other species.
Rye slowly migrated closer again, until he settled back into his spot against Jake’s chest. His hand touched Jake’s thigh, but the touch was tentative and very light. And although Jake felt the same arousal he had earlier, it was tempered now by the seriousness of the discussion they’d had.
Jake breathed a quiet kiss into Rye’s hair. “It’s late. Should we talk more, or actually read now?”
Rye laughed a little and seemed to finally relax against Jake. And while he didn’t answer Jake’s question, his hand crept up a little higher on Jake’s thigh.
Jake inhaled a sharp, short breath. “Or, that. You could do that.”
“Is it okay?” Rye asked, and Jake nodded.
“Yeah. Yeah, it’s good.”
Rye laughed again, but then he went silent. His hand continued to move, up a little more, but then back down, almost to Jake’s knee and then inward a little.
Jake’s heart hammered in his chest, and he closed his eyes as a quiet moan escaped him. Rye’s hand stopped, pressing into his inner thigh.
God.
“I... want to talk a little more, maybe,” Rye said. “I think I want to tell you... what I’ve been thinking about. Or maybe I can just show you. If that’s okay?”
“Uh, sure, yeah,” Jake said on a rough breath. He lifted his head, and Rye glanced up at him, his eyes almost dark with what Jake could only interpret as want. And that was new.
“Stop me if this isn’t okay?” Rye said, still looking up at Jake.
With a nod, Jake brought his free hand up and cupped Rye’s cheek, letting his thumb smooth along Rye’s soft skin. Then he dipped down and brushed a light kiss on Rye’s lips, not daring to deepen it. When he pulled back and straightened up, Rye had closed his eyes, his expression almost blissful. Jake bent down for another kiss, and this time, Rye met him in it, his lips moving with Jake’s, caressing and soft and warm, but with an insistence that hadn’t been there before.
When Jake broke the kiss this time, he was breathing hard, and Rye laughed and buried his head in Jake’s chest.
“I-I love... kissing you,” Rye said, breathless. “And like I said, um, I do want more. I just don’t know when. Or how long it will take me to get there. And I think... I think it’ll be better or—or maybe easier is the right word, if, um... if I... touch you first. Instead of you touching me.”
Jake started to respond, to say he understood and was up for whatever Rye wanted to try now that he knew they were on the same page. But as soon as Rye’s hand started sliding upward, inching under Jake’s shirt until his fingers brushed just along Jake’s skin above the hem of his pants, all of his thoughts left him. The touch was like fire trailing along his stomach, searing into him. Exquisite and intense and loving all at the same time.
A low moan rumbled in his chest, and he felt himself stir—a low heat and tension and a pulse of arousal unlike he’d ever felt before. He moaned again, and suddenly, Rye’s lips were on his, swallowing the sound. They kissed—deeply this time, and Rye’s hand continued its path just above the hem of Jake’s pants, all the way out to his hip and then back.
The next time Jake moaned, Rye pulled back with a small huff. “I’m barely touching you. Does it really feel that good?” Rye asked, but all Jake could do was nod, especially when Rye’s hand changed direction, moving in a slow, smooth stroke partway up to his chest.
He did manage to speak after another moment, when Rye stopped moving and let his fingers tease in the light dusting of hair on Jake’s chest. “It feels so good,” he said. “Are you okay?”
