| Stef's Stuf |
| Courting Lennie: Chapter 3 |
| Jack opened his apartment door with fingers that shook. They had walked the couple of blocks back to his apartment in silence. Passions that had flared had a chance to cool down in the cold October night. Now that the moment of confrontation was coming he didn't felt confident anymore. He was going to call it a momentary lack of reason and pretend nothing ever happened. Yeah, they were going to put the whole thing behind them and go on with their lives. It sounded like a good plan until the lock turned, and he led the way into the apartment, flicking on a light to dispel the gloom cast by the darkness outside. Lennie closed the door but didn't move further inside the apartment. Suddenly he seemed victim of a bout of shyness too. "Do you want something to drink?" Jack asked. It seemed the lamest opening line ever used, but at least it broke the charged silence. "Yeah." "A soda?" "That'll do." "Do you mind if I go for something stronger?" Lennie smiled with just the corner of his mouth. Jack had never minded about drinking alcohol in front of him before. Were they already changing? "Don't worry about me," Lennie noticed that Jack's hand was still shaking a little as he poured his scotch and tried to find a wisecrack to lighten the tension, but nothing came. Apparently, he thought, Jack wasn't the only one who was nervous. The two men sat across from each other in the warm, dimly-lit living room. "Lennie." Jack finally broke the strained silence. "Yes?" "Can I ask you a personal question?" "Of course. Shoot." Jack downed the rest of his scotch, thumped the snifter on the coffee table, got up and retreated to the window. With his back to his guest, he ran his hands through his hair, then forced himself to turn around. "Have you ever..." He trailed off into silence. Finally, Lennie prodded him on: "What?" "God. This is more difficult than I thought... Have you ever been with a man?" "No." Lennie answered placidly and, seeing the disappointment on Jack's face, added quickly "Not when I was sober." Jack's eyebrows climbed a notch on his forehead, proving he wasn't expecting it. "I was a high functioning alcoholic. I didn't get violent or sleepy or whatever. But when I was really high on booze I had the morals of an alley cat, and its habits too. I liked to get my dick sucked so I never said no to a blow job, and usually I didn't particularly care who was doing the work. I never consciously looked for a man, but didn't avoid them either. To be bluntly honest, there was a time in my life where I knew by heart the map of every glory hole in this city. When I got dry, I put all that behind me, trying to achieve some sense of order in my life." "Oh..." "Which doesn't mean I took a vow of celibacy. I just cut the excesses. What about you, Jack? Have you ever?" Jack took a deep breath and sighed. "Not physically. When I was young I fantasized about it some times and in college I really thought about it for a little while. There was this friend of mine and I was sure he had a crush on me and I wondered what it would be like to try, but then the 'femme fatale' of the week stepped in and I forgot about my other plans until it was too late. My friend took it bad and we wound up not talking anymore." "And after that, you never?" "Nope. Not even once. I dated lots of women, married once. Divorced. Dated a lot more, built a couple of meaningful relationship with my assistants and eventually I met Claire. I've been so busy I simply forgot to think about being with a man." He faced the window and rested his forehead on the cool glass. "Until a stone almost broke my skull and I suddenly started to have all these strange dreams..." An impish grin flashed across Lennie's face. "About me?" "Yeah... No... Not exactly... Oh hell, I don't know anything anymore." Lennie let out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "So when you were an L.A. Cop, a lawyer in Maine and the other one on the bus, I was there too?" "Yeah. Always you, and only you." "And we had sex?" "You betcha. In full Technicolor and Dolby surround. Not a chance of thinking we spent time playing cards." "And it felt so good you woke up curious to know what it may be like for real? " "Wish it was that simple. I learned to deal with that kind of curiosity when I was 13 years old and it never failed me." He bit his lip, trying to find the words, turned to look at Lennie. "It's that I keep reacting to you. Even this very moment, listening to your voice is giving me goose bumps. And I've never been so scared in all my life!" Lennie was touched by the sincerity in Jack's voice. "I'm scared too, but not as scared as I thought I'd be in this situation. Probably it's been seeing Mike with Stone, or maybe it's been there for a while and I just didn't see it until today, but I feel the attraction too. I guess the question is, do we do anything about it?" "Like what?" "Well. We can fiercely cling to our Straight masks and pretend we dreamed this conversation too. Or..." Lennie stood up from the chair and walked toward the windows, stopping just a few inches from Jack. Too shy to look at each other directly, they looked at each other's reflections in the glass. Lennie found the picture they made in the glass strangely sweet: two frightened middle-aged 'teenagers' on their first date ever. In an odd kind of way, it was pleasant to feel 'that young' again. "... Or we can give it a try and see what happens. Who knows, maybe it's just our imagination playing tricks on us and going for the real thing will break the spell." They turned at the same time, finding themselves face to face, so close to be able to feel the heat of their bodies and inhale each other's aftershave. "Do you really think it'll work like that?" Jack asked, his voice charged with tension. "Fat chance." Lennie closed the distance between them and their lips met. In a moment they were all over each other, grabbing handfuls of flesh through fabric, lips crashing together, mouths opening, tongues darting inside, swishing across the palate, right, left, then back out again. Leaving nothing behind but a pants-load of fire and ice, plus groins suddenly aching and painfully erect again. Jack could swear he felt the seam of his zipper printing itself into the skin of his painfully trapped dick. Lennie moved his hips slightly, and Jack's homed back in, with a will of their own. They circled around, cat-like, then stilled, tight against what felt most definitely like a boner. It felt reassuring to know he wasn't the only one royally screwed by the last turn of the events. Lennie pulled his head away, trying to catch his breath. "You okay?" he asked very softly. What a question, Jack thought, still dazed. Was he okay? The whole question seemed too big to know how to start answering it. Lennie spoke again. "Jack?" "Huh?" Ok, Jack thought, power of speech totally gone. It's a first. Lennie brought his thumb round the side of Jack's neck and rubbed the side of his jaw. It slid over the damp, unshaven skin. Jack stared up slightly into deep blue eyes that seemed unconcerned with anything other than asking if he was okay. Only one way to answer that question came to Jack's mind and he decided it was worth a try. He pushed Lennie against the window, standing between his slightly spread legs, plundering his mouth with all the hunger he felt. Lennie gasped surprised, then pushed back, one big hand gripping Jack's bicep, angling his mouth against Jack's, meeting passion with passion. "Oh God, we're so screwed..." he quipped, out of breath when they finally came out for air. Jack couldn't help but laugh, aloud and freely and Lennie laughed too: a warm baritone chuckle that melted Jack's bones. They lolled together, giggling like schoolboys, truly relaxed together. Eventually, Lennie calmed and pushed himself away. He gripped Jack's biceps and looked him up and down, eyes lingering on his crotch long enough to make Jack squirm slightly. "What?" he whispered. "Just looking," Lennie replied softly. "Yeah, well..." "I'd like..." It was Lennie's turn to hesitate. Jack tilted his head up to look into his face. "What?" Letting go of one arm, Lennie put his hand between them, and laid it over Jack's crotch. Unable to help himself, Jack jumped a little. Lennie grinned at the reaction and tried again. "I'd like... I'd like to do something about this," he said, gently squeezing Jack's package. Jack groaned and thrust forward. Fuck, the pressure was killing him. He pushed his hips again. Screw the doubts, screw the fears, and screw that he was still officially straight. He wanted to do something about it too or his balls were going to explode. "Oh..." he said, dropping his head to Lennie's shoulder again. The hand began a rhythmic motion. "Oh, boy..." Jack moaned. The friction was exquisite and dangerous. "Lennie... ..." he gasped into Lennie neck. "Oh God, Lennie, stop. Please." "What...?" "I'm too close..." Nodding, Lennie pulled his hand away, leaned forward and kissed him lightly, in apology. Jack accepted it and reached out his hand to reciprocate. He stopped, suddenly unsure, and looked at Lennie as if to ask "may I?". Lennie nodded, his lopsided smile inviting Jack to help himself. Out of pure boldness, totally in contrast with the shyness of a moment before, Jack unfastened Lennie's belt and unzipped his fly, then shyness hit back with a vengeance, making him blush and stop in mid action, just before his hand reached the seams of Lennie's tented boxers. "We're in front of a window, Lennie." He tried to justify himself, berating his sudden dissociation. This constant flip-flopping from need to fear and back was killing him. "Should we move it elsewhere," Lennie suggested, whispering. "your bedroom, maybe?" "Yeah... The bedroom..." Again the hesitation, and Lennie sensed it. "We can stop here, Jack." "No, damn it. I don't want to stop. And I'm not going to if you're ok with this." "I'm ok with this, Jack. Never been more ok in my life." Lennie growled, almost purring. He held Jack in his arms, and started kissing across his brow, his eyelids, his cheekbones with devastating tenderness. Jack's knees gave way, but recovered quickly. He lifted Lennie's hand to his lips and kissed the fingers, that searing, consuming gaze never leaving his face. And suddenly they were against each other, arms criss-crossing, legs interleaving, fingers meshing. Incapable of coherent speech again, Jack reached for Lennie and tried to get to the buttons on his shirt. Lennie captured that hand, and then the other, turning them both over and kissing the palms alternately. "We're still in front of the window, Jack." Jack nodded, circled Lennie's hips with his arm and headed for the bedroom. Lennie sat down on the comforter and waited for Jack's next move, looking expectantly at his naked, vulnerable gaze. He wondered if he had to take the lead, but decided otherwise. Jack was still struggling inside his head and needed his time to cope with it. He saw every phase of his battle writing itself on the creases of his face and couldn't help smiling when the last remnants of doubt left its place to resolution and Jack reached him on the bed, almost straddling him and aiming directly for his mouth. Slowly Jack's fingers moved to first button of Lennie's shirt and then the second and the third, sliding the shirt bit by bit off his shoulders, rubbing his face against Lennie's skin. Not even kisses, really, just light touching with parted lips, breathing in that addictive manly scent that made his pulse race with desire. When Lennie was bare-chested before him, Jack started on his own shirt, but Lennie's patience gave out and suddenly there were buttons flying everywhere as he simply hauled the shirt up and off in one impetuous motion. They were both panting and flushed, and eager to leave 'slow and gentle' for another time. They fell clumsily side by side on the wide bed, fumbling with belts and zippers, aching to touch hot, yearning flesh. They came fast, lying groin to groin, their pants barely undone and pushed down their thighs, their mouths locked, their hands sliding together over their cocks. As a first time it was not great, but it was wonderful. Their bodies needed release too much to slow down to a romantic seduction. They rested side by side, smiling, sticky and still half blind with the force of their orgasms. Jack recovered first and rolled off the bed, almost tripping over his own half-mast trousers. He sighed exaggeratedly and tried to peel them off. He groaned discovering he still had his shoes on, then laughed. They had sex with their shoes and socks on. Shaking his head at the less than romantic practicalities, he finished undressing and headed for the bathroom, looking for a washcloth. He cleaned himself up, then soaked another washcloth and came back to his lover. He let the word run in his head for a while. His lover. His male lover. And it seemed just right. The sight that greeted him when he walked back into the bedroom made his heart skip a bit again. Lennie was still lying on his back, his jeans and white boxers round his knees, his body slick with sweat and semen, his cock still partly erect. Jack clambered onto the bed, got Lennie's shoes and pants off and begun wiping off his lover's chest and belly and groin. Lennie's cock twitched as Jack gently handled it. He dried him carefully, kissing his throat, his collarbones, his ribs, his navel. He wanted to learn every inch of that beloved body. Lennie was almost asleep when Jack finish cleaning him up and tossed the washcloth off to one side. Jack looked lazily at the mess of discarded clothes around the bed, knowing he was going to be disappointed by them in the morning, but right now, he was too drained to worry. He pulled the comforter back, yanking it out from under Lennie, then crawled onto the bed as Lennie opened his arms for him. Sleepy eyes smiled softly at him, warm skin called to him, a broad furry chest made a perfect pillow. Jack snuggled in against him and pulled the comforter up around them. "I'm sorry Jack, it should have been better," Lennie mumbled sleepily. "What do you mean?" Jack answered also sleepily. "Should have been slow, and tender, and last longer. I was as rough and clumsy as a teenager, hell, I wasn't that selfish even when I was a teenager." "Selfish? My God Lennie, were you alone just now? I was in as bad a state as you were. We both just needed release, any way we could get it. Next time will be slow and perfect, this time was just fast... and perfect." He pointedly stressed the last word. It was the simple truth. Probably it wasn't the best sex they had in their lives and probably they were going to do a lot better in the future, but for a first time it was memorable. "Next time?" Lennie asked, fighting back a yawn. "Next time." Jack snuggled closer. "What do you want for breakfast, tomorrow?" "You." Lennie answered. "Ok." They fell asleep, still smiling at each other. Continue on to Chapter 4 Send us some feedback Back to the Story Index Disclaimer: These characters belong to Dick Wolf and NBC; we're just borrowing them for fun, not profit. |