After Midnight

AFTER MIDNIGHT CHAPTER TWO (NC-17)

Disclaimers Apply

 

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies and BUSIEST
WOMAN ALIVE ™, whooo! Boys kissing and
stuff! *ahem * I am a mature
adult. I am not doing a happy dance
about that. Okay, okay, yes I am. ;)
Readers/Reviewers: Slash
abounds…and it’s not entirely fluffy, either.


 

 

 

How did
I end up like this? Jamie was only
half aware of the kiss being pressed hard against his neck, the scrape of teeth
against his throat and the murmurs of encouragement from his partner. I’m a good boy. I don’t pick up strangers in bars. The words came out of his mouth moments after he thought
them. “I’ve never done this before…pick
someone up like this, I mean…”

The
shorter, dark haired man smiled up at him, panting slightly. “No one ever does, to hear people talk.” He ducked his head under Jamie’s chin again
and set to laving and nipping the line of his throat.

Jamie
let his head fall back and hit the bathroom door, groaning unwillingly as his
newfound companion pulled his shirt from his waistband and he felt hands skim
up his abdomen to his chest, fingers fluttering over his flat nipples. What am I doing? Okay, it feels good and he’s pretty hot, but
I’m about to get a blowjob from a total stranger in the handicapped stall in a
gay bar. Why, why, why? It had seemed innocent enough when St John
brought over Brian (Brian! That’s it!
Brian!) from the bar and introduced him to Jamie. He was shorter than the type Jamie usually looked
at but he was funny and seemed smart in conversation. In fact, he hardly noticed when Bobby and St John got up to dance
and never came back, letting them sit in the booth and talk for over an hour
and a half. When Brian asked him to
dance, he agreed without a second thought.
That’s when the evening went weird… Jamie sighed to himself,
distracted to the present as Brian worked on his belt buckle, fumbling then
muttering triumph as he pulled the two ends apart, then began fleetly working
on his zipper. The feeling of masculine
hands on his length made Jamie bite back a groan, unwilling to let himself
enjoy the illicit union. I haven’t
thought of Scott all night so why am I wanting this to be him now? Because you don’t do cheap pick ups, idiot! Despite all his mental chiding, Jamie moaned
aloud as Brian took the very end of his length into his mouth, drawing on the
sensitive head and swirling his tongue over the seeping fluids. Pretend it’s Scott and it won’t feel so
dirty just yet. Pretend it’s Scott and
you’ll enjoy it more. Jamie bit his
lip and groaned louder, thrusting against the welcoming warmth of Brian’s
seeking mouth, reveling in the feel of hands kneading his hips and backside,
the tantalizing tickle of breath on his superheated flesh, and most of all, the
mental picture of Scott performing all this, on his knees and drawing on his
length, murmuring nonsense against the stiff member between them. Jamie sank his fingers into Brian’s hair as
the fantasy took hold, the sound of someone knocking on the locked door drowned
out by his own groans and the thump of the music in the bar itself. Scott kissing me, wanting me…when did
this crush turn into an obsession? This
is so wrong… It was too late to
stop then, he knew, when he felt Brian take him deeply, all the way into his
throat, the surge of tight, shining heat building to epic proportions in his
belly as his length was drawn on hard first, then teasingly gently. Jamie could not open his eyes and look down
at Brian but knew, from the sound of things and the feel of a fist bumping his
shin at intervals, that his companion was pleasuring himself as well. He had only ever had this done to him once
before, only had one real experience with another male in his life, but he knew
it was something he wanted and he wanted it with someone he cared about, not a
stranger—no matter how attractive—in a bar.
Still, though, Jamie did not stop the goings-on, just plunged deeper
into his fantasy of Scott.

“Are
you okay?” Brian asked, gasping, pulling away from Jamie with a slurping pop
that made the mutant cringe quickly.

“Yeah,
why?”

“You’re
making a face.”

“I’m
close is all…” Jamie could not bring
himself to look down, even then. He
clenched his eyes tightly and wanted Scott.


“In
that case…” The grin was obvious in
Brian’s voice and in short order, his mouth was again on Jamie’s length. This time, though, instead of gripping his
thighs as he performed his actions, Brian slid on hand around to squeeze and
knead Jamie’s backside, slowly, carefully, working closer to the cleft in the
flesh. Jamie jumped but did not protest
as Brian teasingly worked one finger into the tight opening, groaning as the
digit went deep and pumped within him, slowly withdrawn only to be plunged back
in suddenly, sending a sharp, pleasured pain through Jamie’s body. Brian began working in earnest then, sucking
hard amieamie’s length as he found and worked against the rough spot within him
that sent him shuddering to climax.
Jamie kept himself from crying out Scott’s name only by sheer
force. He had a sickening realization
that he could multiple at any moment, something he discovered on accident
during his first honest-to-God orgasm years before; if he let himself lose control entirely, the
spasms and jolts of his release would send his mutation into action. Jamie panicked, pushing Brian away before he
was even done, spurting his fluid on the floor and his own jeans as he took
shaking, deep breaths, begging himself not to do it, to hold back and keep the
multiples in check. I can do
this. I can hold it in. I’m not the mutation, the mutation is in me,
not controlling me…

“Dude,
that wasn’t cool,” Brian grouswipiwiping at his mouth. “You didn’t have to shove. Now I’ve got jizz all over my shirt!”

“I’m
sorry,” Jamie gasped. “I just…I don’t
know.”

“Fucking
freaked out on me is what,” Brian snapped, his charitable mood gone. “Now I’ve gotta fucking get out of here
without anyone seeing this shit all over my clothes!” Without so much as a by-your-leave, he pushed Jamie aside and opened
the stall door, going to the sink to dab at the mess on his sweater.

“I’m
sorry,” Jamie said again softly. “I’ve
never done this before. Not in a
bathroom, not like this…”

Brian
looked at him in the mirror and sighed.
“Whoever he is,” he said finally, “he’s not worth torturing yourself
over.”

 

Jamie
kept playing Brian’s comment over in his mind as he sat in the distant booth,
waiting for Bobby and St John to finish dancing. Brian had asked for his number but gotten his email address. Jamie had asked for neither. “You okay?” Bobby asked, sliding into the
seat across from him as the song wound down and another, more upbeat and
techno, began.

“Fine,”
Jamie lied, feeling soiled and wrong. “I’m
just ready to go is all.”

St
John narrowed his eyes and studied Jamie carefully. “Want me to drive you home?
Bobby can follow in the other car.”

“Nah,
I’m fine. I haven’t had any alcohol. I’m
just ready to go…” Jamie stood and
smiled at his friends. “What time is it anyway?”

“A
little after midnight,” Bobby answered, catching St John’s gaze and mimicking
it, studying Jamie carefully. “You sure
you’re okay?”

“I’m
sure. See you guys back at the house.” He had walked a few feet before St John
grabbed his arm and turned him around. “What?”

“It’s
nothing to be ashamed of. You’re lonely
and trust me…just about everyone in here has felt like that at least once
before. It’s a lonely thing, being like
we are.”

“I’m
not gay, I don’t think. I’m bi.” Jamie shrugged. “See? Not the same.”

St
John smiled thinly. “We’re not a
socially acceptable sexuality. It’s
the same, no matter what anyone might tell you. Jamie, don’t hate yoursfor for it. Just know that you’re not alone in the world. You don’t have to do things like that to
feel loved. You’ve got lots of love in
your life.”

Jamie
sighed. “Not the kind I’m looking for,
St John. Go sit with your boyfriend. He
looks bored. See you at home.” He turned and walked away before St John
could say anything else. After
midnight on a Friday and the entire town except this bar is closed down. Nowhere else to go but home.

Scott
was flipping through the channels idly when Jamie came into the rec room via
the kitchen. “Have fun at Mary’s[1]?”
he asked with affected boredom.

“Who
said I was at Mary’s?” Jamie said, freezing in the doorway, looking for all the
world like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

“You
left your wallet in the bathroom. Someone
turned it into the bartender who called here to tell you that it was up there.”

“Oh.”

“I
already called Bobby on his cell and told him to get it for you.” Scott shut off the television and fixed
Jamie with a steady gaze. “Why didn’t
you tell anyone you’re gay?”

“I’m
not.”

“But…”

“I’m
bisexual. I just happen to fancy men
more than women . I’m still attracted
to women, mind, but I just…like men better.”

“Bisexual?” Scott blinked. The only experience he had had with the word and idea of
bisexuality came from ill produced porn where allegedly bisexual women were lascivious
and grotesque in their Sapphic attentions strictly for male enjoyment. He had never considered male bisexuality or
that he might actually know someone of that persuasion. “How?”

Jamie
snorted. “How? Same way you’re straight. I’ve just always been that way. Look, I don’t want to talk about it,
okay? I just…I’m going to bed.” He forced himself to walk past Scott without
looking directly at him, wounded by the look of confusion on his fantasy lover’s
face. Scott just sat in the dark for a
long time, staring at the wall and puzzling over bisexuality. He likes both? How?
Why?





[1] Name of a
rather firmly established and pretty interesting gay leather bar in
Houston. I couldn’t think of another
name, lol. Sorry.