Page 47 of Two for Holding
If Tom took a moment to think, properly think, about it, he would retreat into the safety he’d been living in for so long.But ever since he’d stood up in the locker room, for Luca and Jax and Diego, and finally, finally for himself, there had been a reckless thrumming in his pulse.The part of him that had sat up and took notice back in St.Louis, that burst out of him screaming in Philadelphia, that guided his words and actions tonight, had enough of being buried.It wanted out, and Tom lacked the strength to keep denying it.Even knowing he might regret it later wasn’t enough to stop him following through, taking the feeling to its natural conclusion.
“Yes.”
Before, Jax had said he would kiss Tom properly.Tom had taken him to mean “longer” or maybe “with tongue.”When Jax leaned in and kissed him, he realized his mistake.
They hadn’t kissed at the bus stop.Tom had barely done more than graze his lips across Jax’s face.The way Jax cupped his cheek in one hand and looked straight at him right up until they were too close to see anything but the blurry outlines of each other’s faces.The way his mouth moved, soft and gentle against Tom’s, a whisper of sensation which left Tom parting his own lips, asking for more—thatwas a real kiss.
He really was bad at this.
Jax was not.The hand not holding Tom’s face in place settled on his hip, and Tom found himself anchored.He didn’t have to consider how to move, where to put his own hands, what to do.Jax took care of it.Jax angled his head a little so he could kiss Tom more deeply.Jax grabbed Tom by the hand and guided him to hold on to Jax’s waist.Jax carded through the short hair at the nape of Tom’s neck, sending shivers down his spine.
Hazily, Tom became aware kissing probably had to end at some point.He didn’t know when the end point was, though, and he felt so good he left difficult things like decisions up to Jax.At some point, Jax’s tongue licked lightly against his lips, and it was only natural to open his mouth.Their tongues slid together, Jax pressed closer, and Tom let himself melt back into the wall.
Was kissing supposed to feel this good?Or did Tom just think it did because he had no idea what he was doing?Could Jax tell he was totally out of his depth?Should he be more active?Or could he just let go and allow Jax to be in charge of things?Tom tore his mouth away.
“Am I—is this okay?”
Jax ran his thumb up Tom’s jawline.“You’re perfect.”
Tom grabbed hold of the front of Jax’s shirt and pulled him in.
Now Tom knew what to expect, and desire for more took the place of his nerves.Jax pressed forward in deep, slow surges, licking into Tom’s mouth and then drawing back for short, soft, close-mouthed kisses.His hands ran all along Tom’s sides, making Tom sigh and arch into the touch.He had nothing to worry about; Jax would take care of everything, and Jax said he was perfect.
Tom couldn’t say how long they stood there, kissing up against the wall.At some point, he needed to take a full, deep breath instead of the little puffs of air he could get with their lips connected.He pulled away.Jax, apparently above such minor concerns as oxygen, switched to pressing soft, light kisses down Tom’s jawline and his neck.
No one had touched Tom there before.He didn’t know it would feel likethat.He groaned, a soft little “ah” sound.
Jax stepped back.Cold air rushed into the space between them, and Tom reached out for Jax, missing his heat and his touch.His chest rose and fell, so visible in his tight T-shirt.Maybe Jax would take it off if Tom asked.Maybe he could run his hands underneath and feel warm skin.
“So that’s, uh… That’s kissing.You’ve practiced.You’re good.”
Did Jax want to stop?
Tom couldn’t fathom why anyone ever stopped doing this.
“I want—” he started.
“I should go,” Jax said hurriedly before he could finish.“Let’s, uh… We can…touch base?Tomorrow?”
He was out of the door before Tom could sum up an answer.
On autopilot, he brushed his teeth and changed into a loose top and sweats.He lay down in the bed and turned out the lights.Then, he double-checked whether he’d set his phone alarm with enough time to get breakfast before the flight.
He thought about checking his messages, but he knew what awaited him there.
Mom:Great game, sweetie!So proud of you!
He didn’t want to thank her.Not when she didn’t know why he’d played so well in the third period, what had fueled him.
The lights from passing cars illuminated the whole room through the open curtains.Tom got up and pulled them shut properly.
A little cold under the sheet, his skin prickling all over, he got up again and turned off the air conditioning.Who needed AC in mid-November anyway?
The pillowcase was rumpled under his cheek.He propped himself up to fix it.
Then he rolled over to his other side.
Finally, onto his back.
