Page 45 of Beyond the Hedge Maze

Jesse’s head rolled back against the glass, and Oliver’s mouth quickly moved to lick and suck at his Adam's apple while his open hands explored Jesse’s frame. Meanwhile, Jesse was busy trying to push Oliver’s shirt off his shoulders, doing his best to reach any bit of bare skin he could.

Oliver’s fingers settled in the waistband of Jesse’s jeans, his thumbs resting on the button, and he leaned back to study Jesse’s face. He noted the flush on his bronze cheeks, his lips bruised and beginning to swell, and Oliver wanted more. He unbuttoned Jesse’s jeans and waited for some kind of signal, a nod or a verbal consent or dissent. Instead, Jesse grinned, his strong hands squeezing Oliver’s biceps as he spoke. “You’re going to kill me.”

Oliver beamed back at him, joyfully recalling his earlier conversation with Isaac.

Oliver unzipped Jesse’s jeans and palmed his cock through his pants, watching him carefully. It was all new territory for them. They had only ever kissed as teenagers. Nothing like this had ever happened when they were younger, and Oliver didn’t want to miss anything. He wanted to see every emotion that flashed across Jesse’s face.

He slipped the waistband of Jesse’s pants down just enough to free his cock. He was cut and thick, a little shorter in length than Oliver’s by comparison. He gave Jesse a firm stroke, watching his face the entire time. He watched how his eyes hooded, how his breaths stuttered, and he wondered what kind of participant Jesse would be. Would he be more passive and let Oliver lead? Or was Jesse allowing Oliver to have a moment of control before he took over?

Jesse’s hands resumed their own exploration, and Oliver stopped stroking him just long enough for Jesse to push Oliver’s shirt down his arms. When he was done, he cradled Oliver’s face, pulling him in for another scorching kiss.

Oliver continued jerking Jesse off. His hand was dry except for the bit of precum he was able to gather on each pass, but Jesse didn’t seem to mind. Oliver increased his speed before backing off, cataloging every sigh and moan, not wanting it to be over too quickly.

“Let me touch you. Please,” Jesse whispered against Oliver’s lips.

Oliver nodded, and Jesse quickly moved to unbutton Oliver’s jeans, hastily shimmying them down along with his pants to mid-thigh so that he was exposed. Jesse slid down Oliver’s foreskin to thumb at his slit, and Oliver moaned against Jesse’s lips as they hovered against his own. It’d been too long since he’d had someone touch him this way, and he didn’t know how long he’d be able to last.

Their movements were awkward as they worked to get each other off between sloppy kisses and stolen breaths. Oliver’s orgasm was building, and he took a tiny step closer to Jesse, wanting as little distance between them as possible. “Jesse, I—”

“I know, me too. Let go. Give it to me.”

Jesse’s words sent Oliver tumbling over the edge, his release spilling in Jesse’s hand as Jesse did the same.

They stood in the conservatory, breathing each other’s air. And when Oliver’s mind had started to wander—to worry—Jesse leaned in and sweetly kissed him. Nothing rushed or frantic about it.

“We’ve made a mess.” Jesse laughed and dropped another quick kiss to Oliver’s cheek.

Oliver looked around the room and grabbed the long forgotten checked shirt that was laying on the floor near their feet. He wiped off his hands and then passed it over to Jesse, who cleaned off his own before sliding down the windowed wall to the floor, not even bothering to readjust his jeans.

Oliver tucked himself back in and joined him on the ground. He looked Jesse up and down, trying to assess how he was feeling, until his gaze snagged on his crotch. Apparently, Jesse was unbothered that his cock was still out.

“There’s paint on your dick.”

Jesse turned to him with an incredulous look on his face before glancing at his softened cock to see that there was, in fact, paint on it. He hastily stuffed it back into his jeans and began to laugh. Oliver joined in, unbridled and unrestrained. They must have looked ridiculous, slumped on the floor.

Their heads rested along the windows, tilted towards each other. Oliver was calm, satiated, and happy. Jesse lifted his hand toward Oliver’s face and gently straightened his glasses that had gone crooked before he brushed his fingers against Oliver’s cheek. “These dimples are my favorite.”

In the wake of a moment of déjà vu, Oliver decided to throw caution to the wind. “Will you come with me to London this weekend? My friends want to meet you.”

“Yes.”

“Rachel and Isaac. They were at the pub that night. We do a catch up every other month,” Oliver continued.

“Yes.”

“They want to meet your friends, too,” he added.

“Yes.”

Oliver playfully swatted Jesse’s chest, even as Jesse continued holding his face, their eye contact remaining unbroken.

“Don’t just say yes, I want you to think about it. Could you get in trouble?”

For the first time, Jesse’s smile faltered. “What do you mean?”

“With work. Your job,” Oliver explained.

“I could not fucking care less.” His smile returned as he spoke, but it didn’t alleviate Oliver’s worry. He wouldn’t forgive himself if Jesse lost his job over whatever they were doing. He knew it was a family business, but he had no idea how flexible his family would actually be.