“No,” I replied with a half smile.
“Absolutely not,” Travis added, his face stoic.
Jasper pushed his hands into the pockets of his pyjama bottoms, his black t-shirt stretched tight across his chest.
“I hate you like this,” he replied to Travis. “Angry. It’s not you.”
“What do you want from me, Jas?”
“I could really use a hug from my friend?”
TWENTY-SIX
JASPER
Trav pushed awayfrom the counter and walked toward me, the muscles in his abs tightening as he moved as if he was holding his breath.
When he got close, he wrapped his hand around the back of my neck and brought his forehead to mine.
“I hate this version of me too,” he whispered.
“I’m sorry.” My hands hung by my sides, but I longed to touch him. “I had no idea.” I didn’t know if I was apologising for not realising I was gay or for not knowing how he felt about me.
“I might need a hug too,” he admitted, sounding more like my Travis.
My Travis.
I wrapped my arms around his waist and buried my face into his neck. We’d done this so many times before, but this time I let myself experience it all—the feel of his body against mine, the way my skin tingled and my stomach flipped.
Being in his arms felt so good, and I couldn’t believe I’d never let myself notice how I felt around him.
Unable to stop myself, I pressed my lips to his neck, letting them linger there before I lifted a little and repeated the movement. Travis’ pulse hammered visibly, his hands dropping to my waist and tightening on my hips.
“Jas,” he whispered on an exhale.
“Mmmm,” I replied as I ran kisses over his stubble-covered jaw. His hand moved to the back of my neck and I froze, expecting him to pull away and throw his angry words at me again, but instead, his raked his fingers across the back of my head, as if he was encouraging me to do more.
“We shouldn’t,” he said, but there was no conviction in his words.
I lifted my head, staring into his familiar dark eyes, my fingers pushing his hair back from his face so I could see him better.
“Shouldn’t do what?” Feeling brave, I leant in, pausing so our lips were millimetres apart. “This?” I pressed my lips to his, loving the groan that radiated from his chest.
The kiss was brief, a second in length, but the shot of pleasure that exploded through me almost knocked me off my feet. I wanted more. So much more.
“Or this?” I pushed my now-hard cock against his hip, rocking slightly, causing precum to leak from my slit. “Or do you mean this?” I cupped his erection, groaning as the heat of him leaked onto my hand.
His grip on my hips tightened as he muttered my name again, so quietly this time, I could barely hear him.
“Or this?” I tilted my head and pressed my lips to his again, only this time, I swiped my tongue over the seam and he opened, letting me in. He tasted divine, and I dove in, devouring him, our tongues twisting together, his hand tightening around my nape as his cock ground against my palm.
“Jasper,” he muttered breathlessly against my lips. I leant back a little so I could take him in. I groaned as if seeing him for the first time, without all the haze of the feelings I’d been repressing. And, with my 20:20 vision, Travis Jones was stunning.
I palmed his cock again, watching the expression on his face—his eyes fluttering shut and his lips parting.
“I don’t want you to hate me,” I told him. “I want to kiss you, touch you… I want you to fuck me.”
He brought his lips to my ear and whispered one word. “Finn?”
