Page 79 of The Dramatic Life of Jonah Penrose
“Jonah!” he called up, not keeping his voice quiet despite the sleepy state of Castle Road. “Jonah, I’m an idiot.”
“Are you throwing stones at my window?” Jonah hissed, trying not to wake his neighbors, even if Dexter didn’t have the same concern.
“You weren’t answering your phone, so, yes.”
“Why not knock on the door?”
“I did.”
The rain had well and truly soaked every inch of him. As Jonah’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see the coat Dexter wore clinging to his body, his hair saturated and floppy across his forehead as his breath twirled in the air in front of his face. They had said little during the double show day at the Persephone; they didn’t outright avoid each other, but they didn’t spend any time together either. So, seeing Dexter beneath his window in the middle of the night, his palm filled with stones, was really not anything Jonah could have expected. But then again, he could never guess what Dexter Ellis might do next. The man was a mystery, endearingly so.
“Please let me in. It’s cold,” Dexter said.
Jonah looked down at him, knowing full well he was going to let him in, but he lingered there for a moment, taking in his face shining beneath the moon and glistening with raindrops. If it wasn’t the most ridiculous thing in the world, it might have been romantic, the perfect moment from a film, the balcony scene fromRomeo and Julietwithout the mountains of death at the end. Jonah moved away from the window and shut it as quietly as possible before heading downstairs to let the not-burglar into his home. When he opened the door Dexter stepped closer, but he didn’t attempt to come inside. He looked at Jonah in his pajamas, hair ruffled from sleep, eyes heavy, face confused, and opened his mouth to speak as a loud clap of thunder rumbled across the sky.
“Come in,” Jonah said as he gripped the door, moving aside to let Dexter in, but he stayed where he was. “Dex, you’re standing out in the middle of a thunderstorm, come in.”
“No. Let me say this first.” Dexter took a deep breath. “I’m stupid. I’m so fucking stupid, Jonah. Of course love is enough. It’s more than enough. And it isn’t even love, it’s more than that. We don’t have to rely on just love, because this, us, is so much more than love.” He talked quickly, thewords tumbling from his lips. “I don’t know why I didn’t just kiss you in the café and tell you I still want to make you smile every day, that I want to be that person for you. If you’ll let me. Please let me, Jonah.”
Dexter Ellis, the penis destroyer, the guy with an incomparable ego and questionable fashion sense, wanted him. He wanted to give himself to Jonah and make himsmilefor fuck’s sake. Jonah stepped outside, his feet bare against the pavement, and he let the rain cover his body as he cupped Dexter’s cheeks and pressed his lips to his. Dexter wrapped his arms around Jonah’s waist and kissed him back. His skin was freezing, yet the way he kissed burned; the passion there, the intense need and tension they’d put aside for weeks suddenly pouring out between them. He tasted like mint plucked straight from the garden and a hint of butterscotch, sweet and smooth, like the ones from the candy shop back home in St. Ives. Jonah didn’t know how long they stood out there in the rain in the dark. It could have been only a moment or an eternity, time stood still with Dexter; and he was there, with Jonah, where he always should have been.
“Come inside,” Jonah whispered, pulling Dexter by the lapel of his coat into the hallway, where the rainwater dripped from them and created puddles on the floor. Jonah suspected Dexter might complain in the morning when his designer clothes were sopping wet, but there, in the moment, it didn’t matter. A little drop of rain never hurt. But it made them both tremble from the cold, and Dexter slid the coat from his shoulders and let it fall to the floor before reaching forward to pull the pajama top over Jonah’s head.
Jonah ran his hands over Dexter’s shirt, the material clinging to his skin, and as he unbuttoned it, he let his fingers trail along Dexter’s collarbone, skin damp, glistening, beautiful, like always. He guided the shirt from Dexter’s shoulders and let it fall to the floor with the other items of clothing before he unbuttoned Dexter’s jeans and watched as he stepped out of them. His underwear clung to his thighs, and they stood looking at each other, chests heaving as the silence of the night swirled around them. Dexter kissed him again, gathering him against the wall, their bodies flush against each other, and Jonah could feel just how hard Dexter was as he pressed his thigh against him. Dexter let out a moan, and heran his fingers through Jonah’s wet hair as he trailed kisses down his neck, nipping at the skin slightly, making Jonah shudder.
“I love you,” he whispered against his skin, and Jonah’s spine tingled as Dexter kissed down his abdomen. “I’ve missed you.” Dexter dropped to his knees and wasted no time in removing the pajama bottoms from Jonah’s body.
The heat from Dexter’s mouth made the weather outside seem distant, and Jonah could have honestly stood there until fireworks lit up his world, but he needed more, he wanted more; he wanted Dexter in every way possible, and he reluctantly guided him from his knees back up his body to kiss his mouth again and again until Dexter was moaning against his lips indecently.
“Come upstairs,” Jonah said between kisses, pulling Dexter to the staircase, their hands barely leaving each other as they made their way up to Jonah’s bedroom. Dexter lay himself on the sheets, unmade and messy, his lips slightly swollen, cheeks flushed red, and God, Jonah wished he could keep that image of him. Beautiful and yearning to be touched. Jonah crawled between his thighs, and Dexter let him explore his body, his tongue tracing lines from his navel to his hips, tantalizingly slow. Dexter dropped his head back onto the pillow as he panted, words coming from his mouth but none of them audible, and Jonah loved that he could render him a mumbling mess with just his mouth.
“I’ve missed you,” Jonah said as he kissed his thighs. “So. Fucking. Much.”
“God, Jonah, please—”
“Please what?”
“I need you.”
Jonah smirked and ran his fingers along the sensitive skin on Dexter’s hip bones. “What do you need me to do?”
Dexter groaned in response and bucked his hips up, needy, his body tense, and Jonah could easily help him unwind, but he wanted this to last, to take the pace and slow it right down so he could remember each little moan and movement.
“I want you to fuck me,” Dexter said, voice hoarse, full of want. His hazel eyes locked on Jonah’s, and he reached for Jonah’s hands, pulling him close to kiss him. “Please. Please fuck me.”
“So polite,” Jonah hummed before pulling away to grab the lube and a condom from his bedside drawer. They’d never done this, not Jonah fucking him; previously it had always been the other way round. It was just how they fell into things, and Jonah was more than happy with that. But hehadthought about what it might be like ever since Dexter said, “What if I would rather be on top of you like that?” back in rehearsals months ago.
And, yeah, he’d definitely thought about Dexter on his lap, riding him, far more times than he would care to admit, because the thought of it drove Jonah wild. He reveled in taking his time, making the most delightful moans and gasps drop from Dexter’s lips, until he writhed beneath him and even Jonah couldn’t take it any longer, he wanted him, he wanted him so badly it hurt.
“Like this,” Dexter said, placing his hands on Jonah’s shoulders to keep him between his thighs. “Want to look at you.” Dexter kissed him softly, the sudden desperation from only moments before gone, and they stayed like that for a couple of minutes, listening to the sounds of their breaths as they kissed slowly and Dexter allowed Jonah to move his legs, settling as Dexter nodded and placed his hands on the small of Jonah’s back.
“Go slow,” he said, and he gasped as Jonah pushed into him, and Jonah rested his forehead against Dexter’s as he closed his eyes, losing himself in the feeling of him, of being inside him, and, fuck, he’d never felt this close to someone before.
The rain outside trickled down the windowpane, a constant and steady sound as they lost themselves in each other. Jonah’s hands clutched the bedsheet on either side of Dexter’s shoulders as he pushed into him, and he took in Dexter’s features as the other man’s eyes fluttered closed. Dark black eyelashes, pink lips, the little freckle just beneath his left eye, the miniscule scar on the edge of his jawline. He could write songs about him if only he possessed the talent to do him justice. Sex between them previously always came with an intense and passionate tension, but now, with it all stripped away, it felt all the more intimate. They found a rhythm together, Jonah finding just the right angle to position his thrusts to make Dexter cry out and gasp while muttering words beneath his breath. Jonah knew he wouldn’t last long, not with Dexter beneath him like this. Not that endurance seemed to matter right then; it wasn’t about the sex, not really, it was about them being together again, in the closest way they knew possible.
When Dexter came, he dug his fingers into Jonah’s shoulders and moaned his name, arching his back and exposing his neck for Jonah to press more kisses against his skin. It didn’t take long before Jonah came undone himself after that, the waves of his pleasure almost blinding, like seeing stars for the first time. Jonah practically collapsed next to him, his body utterly spent; sex after a two-show day was quite the feat, but he’d do it again and again if Dexter asked it of him. He wanted to feel like this with him always, close, closer than he’d ever been with someone, and content, happy, and safe.
“That was totally worth waiting out in the rain for,” Dexter said as he tried to slow his breathing. “I feel like I need to sleep for a week.”
