Page 102 of Everything That Kills Me
“I’ve forgotten what we were talking about,” Zeph whispered.
“Theo James.”
“Oh.”
Zeph gulped as his swim trunks slid down.
“Would he do this?” Jack whispered.
“No.”
His hardening cock went even harder. Jack wrapped his lips around it, and Zeph lost his mind. No way could he…Oh fuck.He tried to resist, but it was hopeless.
“Jack!” He gasped a one-word warning, crying out as his balls pulled up and detonated, and his dick jerked. Zeph could hear whimpering and hoped it wasn’t him.Oh God, of course it’s me.Jack didn’t let him out of his mouth until all of Zeph was limp. If he slid into the water, he’d probably drown. As Zeph exhaled, Jack pulled him down into the pool.
“Make sure my head stays above the water. I’m liquid. Who can I blame for coming so fast? Why am I even wondering? It’s obviously your fault.”
“Not Theo James?”
“Who’s he?”
Jack smirked.
“Don’t look so smug.”
“Sorry.”
“I don’t believe you and don’t say sorry.”
Jack smiled. “Sorry.”
“Your turn to sit on the naughty step.”
How could each day seem better than the last? Zeph had never enjoyed himself more. That strong hormonal rush had to fade sometime, right? Though maybe it didn’t for some. It went on and on. He didn’t want to think about it ending, when they were still caught up in that tsunami of attraction. The current running between them made him feel they lit up so brightly, they could be seen from space. They seemed to know what the other was thinking. The sex was…great, especially as they learnt more about each other’s bodies, but just sleeping together, being together, well that was great too. Relaxing in each other’s arms after they’d come was…everything. Jack twisting strands of Zeph’s hair around his fingers while Zeph landed soft kisses wherever he could. Catching each other’s smiles with their kisses. Best of all when they were lying tight together, as much of them in contact with the other as possible, and Jack looked so content, no wariness in his face.
Zeph was aware Jack was holding back a little and given his history, it was understandable. But Zeph wore his heart on his sleeve. Jack made him smile, made him happy. He’d brought him to life. His grin lit up Zeph’s world. Zeph couldn’t hide how that made him feel. Nor did he want to. Because maybe, just maybe, Jack would come to feel the same, their realities would merge and they’d have more than this summer.
The cloud of happiness that enveloped Zeph rose and fell. No matter what he might hope for, this wasn’t their life. This house wasn’t theirs. France wasn’t their home. They were spending money, not earning it. They’d set aside their other lives for a while, but it could only be for a while.
Yet Zeph felt as if the house belonged to them. They treated it as a home. They called it home. They had fresh baked croissants every morning from a local boulangerie where theshop assistant put what they wanted in a bag when she saw them arriving on their bikes. Lunch was baguettes, cheese, ham and tomatoes. They threw grapes into each other’s mouths. Jack was a good shot and Zeph was terrible. Dinner was something they cooked together. Fish and salad. Meat and salad.
Maybe they didn’t need to keep travelling. Zeph had all he wanted right here. Each day, Jack seemed to relax a little more. They could stay in this house for however long Jack had left to give him.
Then what?
Then what?
Then what?
Zeph didn’t like that little voice in his head that kept popping up to remind him this would end. He couldn’t let himself think about that. He feared merely entertaining the thought would make it happen.
Then convinced himself it wouldn’t.
His favourite thing was to be in bed with Jack. To lie next to him, to feel the heat of his body, the thump of his heart. When Jack looked at him, it was hard to breathe. Zeph scribbled poems about the way he felt, about the way Jack made him feel.
You make me long for my memories
To run and run and never fade
