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The minute Jean gets the bedroom door open, he tugs Jeremy inside, and pushes him up against it. Two hands on his waist, lips on his neck. Jeremy laughs, a joyous, happy thing, and Jean moves back to his mouth, swallows the sound whole.
When he pulls away, Jeremy’s staring up at him, bright eyes and flushed cheeks, and Jean—Jean wants.
He reaches for the hem of Jeremy’s shirt. “Okay?”
Jeremy nods so fast he hits his head on the door, and Jean huffs in amusement. He tugs the shirt over Jeremy’s head, runs his hands over Jeremy’s chest. Jeremy sighs contentedly, and then reaches to fist a loose hand in the side of Jean’s shirt. “Yours too?”
Jean leans back, away, and pulls it off himself. Jeremy bites his lip as he looks him over, and Jean tries not to be too pleased.
They’ve done this a few times now, kissed all over the house, their shirts on, their shirts off. But tonight—tonight, Jean wants to go further.
“Tell me what to do,” Jeremy says. “Tell me what you want.”
Jean considers him, and then the offer. As it stands, he has never been asked such a thing before. The thought of being in control—of being in control of Jeremy—makes his head spin a little wildly.
“Tell me what to do,” Jeremy repeats, sensing his hesitation. “I promise I’ll like it.”
There’s an earnestness in his eyes that tells Jean he means it, so Jean nods, and then tries to think. “You can touch me,” he says, as a start.
Jeremy doesn’t. “Tell me where.”
Jean reaches out to take Jeremy’s hands, and place them on his chest. Jeremy’s hands are warm. Jean shivers anyway.
Jeremy smoothes his hands over Jean’s pecs, the same way Jean had done to him. He hums, “What next?”
“Kiss me again,” Jean demands, and to his satisfaction, Jeremy rocks onto his toes, and does.
What a curious thing, Jean thinks as he swipes his tongue across the seam of Jeremy’s lips, and Jeremy parts them obediently. Being the one to give the commands, instead of forced to follow.
Being listened to is as novel as it is addicting, but it also jars something deep in Jean’s chest, and suddenly, he’s rearing back. Jeremy attempts to chase him, but Jean fists a hand in his hair, and holds him at bay.
Jeremy moans. Jean cocks an eyebrow.
“Sorry,” Jeremy says. “That’s—um. I like that. A lot.”
Interesting, Jean thinks, and tucks that particular piece of information away for later. “If I ask you to do something you don’t want to,” he says, voice firm, “you have to tell me.”
The look on Jeremy’s face is soft. “I don’t think you will. I’d do just about anything you say. But,” he says, when Jean starts to scowl, “I promise to tell you, if you promise to tell me. Okay?”
Jean doesn’t see how that works, considering he’s the one giving orders here, but he nods anyway. “Okay.”
“Great,” Jeremy says. “Now, where were we?”
Jean leans back in, parts Jeremy’s lips again, and Jeremy moans at the first slide of their tongues.
The sound rushes straight to Jean’s dick, and he presses closer, pushing Jeremy back up against the door. Their chests bump, their dicks grind. Even through the fabric of both their sweatpants, Jean can feel Jeremy’s erection. He can also, he thinks, tell that Jeremy is not wearing underwear.
Jean keeps them like that for a moment, and Jeremy follows his lead, smoothing his hands up Jean’s chest, and over his shoulders, rocking his hips gently against Jean’s.
When he starts to kiss along Jean’s jaw, Jean freezes a bit. “No neck,” he instructs, and with an easiness that’s a little dizzying, Jeremy stops.
“You can kiss me anywhere,” Jeremy tells him, and the thoughts that statement incites are almost enough to make Jean go insane. Instead, he nods, and imitates Jeremy’s moves. He kisses along Jeremy’s cheek, and down to his jawline, and over to the soft spot below his ear, which draws a noise like a whimper from his mouth.
“Tell me,” Jeremy says, begs. “Jean, tell me—“
This time, Jean doesn’t have to think about it. “I want you to blow me.”
He’s been fantasizing about it for weeks now: Jeremy on his knees, looking up at him through long lashes. Jeremy’s eyes go dark, and Jean wonders if he’s been thinking about it too.
“Mine or yours?” Jeremy asks.
”Yours,” Jean says.
Jeremy goes easily, letting Jean pull him back toward the middle of the room, and then over to Jeremy’s bed. Even though he’s the one in charge here, and even though he trusts Jeremy, Jean can’t find it in himself to give Jeremy the advantage of height.
He sits on the edge of the mattress, and Jeremy nods, grabs a pillow. Jeremy tosses it down, and then he’s going down with it, beautiful and glowing between Jean’s thighs.
Jean swallows thickly. Jeremy presses a kiss to the inside of his knee. ”Okay?”
“Yes,” Jean says. “Are you okay?”
”Phenomenal,” Jeremy tells him. He gives Jean’s pants a pointed look. “You ready for me?”
Jean huffs, and stands, pulling down his sweatpants and boxers before sitting again. The sight he’s treated to is obscene: his dick, hard and leaking, and Jeremy, waiting patiently, his pretty lips wet where he licks over them, his hands in his lap.
Jean waits for him to start up again, until he remembers what Jeremy’s been telling him since they started this. His face flushes a bit, but he nods. “You can touch.”
Jeremy beams at him. Jean finds his enthusiasm a little amusing, but then Jeremys fingers are on his dick, and nothing is amusing at all anymore.
Jeremy wraps his hand around the base, stroking once, twice, before pressing his thumb to the tip. He follows it with a kiss to the same spot, and then reaches out for Jean’s hands, and settles them in his hair.
“Feel free to pull,” he says with a little wink, and then leans forward, and swallows Jean down.
The feeling is nothing like Jean’s ever experienced before. Warm, wet—wild. Jean’s hands flex on instinct, twisting in Jeremy’s hair, and Jeremy moans in response. The sensation it causes is indescribable, a buzzing Jean feels all over.
”Fuck,” Jean hisses, and Jeremy hums again.
He starts moving then, bobbing his head up and down, and Jean barely has time to register the sensation before Jeremy wraps a hand around the base, and starts twisting the parts his mouth can’t reach.
Jean’s hips buck involuntarily, and Jeremy gags a bit. “Sorry,” Jean apologizes, but Jeremy just looks up at him, pupils wide, and keeps going.
Jean swears.
Jeremy’s free hand comes up, cupping Jean’s balls, and on top of everything else, Jean’s body lights up. He tugs on Jeremy’s hair as a warmth starts low in his stomach, and tries to warn him of what’s coming.
But either Jeremy doesn’t understand, or he doesn’t care, because instead of pulling off, he flattens his tongue on the underside of Jean’s dick. The warmth in Jean’s stomach breaks.
Jeremy swallows all of it, and then sits back, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Jean stares, panting.
“How was that?” Jeremy asks.
Jean surges forward, catching Jeremy by the face, and kisses him so thoroughly he nearly knocks Jeremy over. Jeremy laughs. “So…good?”
“You know damn well,” Jean starts, but at the smile on Jeremy’s face, shakes his head. He shifts back, tugs up his pants, and then pulls Jeremy up to his feet again.
Jeremy is—hard, to say the least. Jean glances up from the tent in his pants, and finds that Jeremy’s face is tinted a faint shade of pink.
”I told you,” he says. “I like it.”
Jean doesn’t know what to say to that, so he doesn’t say anything at all. He just flips their positions, and pushes Jeremy back a bit, until he takes the hint, and sits on the bed.
“My turn,” Jean tells him.
“Oh,” Jeremy says, “Jean, you don’t—“
“I want to,” Jean says. “Just maybe not…”
He doesn’t finish, but Jeremy seems to understand. “Anything you want, Jean. Even if that’s nothing at all.”
Jean wants a lot of things, but right now, he just wants to get Jeremy off.
He sits beside him, wraps a hand around the back of Jeremy’s neck, and tugs him in for another kiss. When he pulls back again, he brings his other hand up to his mouth, and spits on it.
Jeremy makes a strangled noise.
”Okay?” Jean asks.
“Yes, Jean. Jesus,” Jeremy says. “I’m going to be thinking about this forever.”
Jean rolls his eyes, but reaches down anyway, and slips his hand beneath the waistband of Jeremy’s pants.
He doesn’t specifically know what Jeremy likes, but he can guess. Jeremy’s sweet in his kisses, and lingers in his touches, and so Jean starts gently, jerking him soft and slow.
Jeremy catches his bottom lip between his teeth, probably to stifle whatever sound is waiting in his throat, but when Jean twists, it comes out, a high whine.
Jean’s eyebrows hit his hairline. Jeremy blushes.
“Oh, shush,” he says.
Jean kisses him. Jeremy whimpers into it, and even though Jean’s already come, his dick twitches with mild interest. He wraps his free arm around Jeremy’s waist, holds him close, and Jeremy reaches up, putting one hand on Jean’s bicep, and squeezes.
It doesn’t take long to bring him to the edge. Jean twists a few more times, and then Jeremy’s hips are bucking up, and he’s tensing, and coming over Jean’s hand.
Jean strokes him through it, kissing him slowly. Jeremy pulls back, and rests his forehead against Jean’s shoulder.
”Good?” Jean asks.
Jeremy laughs. Jean pulls his hand out of his pants, and wipes it on the fabric of Jeremy’s thigh.
“Gross,” Jeremy says. Jean cups his face.
“Are you okay?”
”Yes,” Jeremy tells him. “Super, super okay. Are you okay?”
Jean’s pulse is still beating a little fast, but he nods. “Yes,” he says. “I liked that.”
”Good,” Jeremy says, and stands. He heads for another pair of pants, and Jean heads for the bathroom.
When he comes back, Jeremy is sitting on his bed again, looking like he expects Jean to retire to his own side of the room for the night. Originally, Jean had planned on it. But something drives him in the opposite direction.
“Scoot over,” Jean tells him, and Jeremy beams. He shifts to sit against the pillows, and Jean moves to sit beside him, pressing a kiss to Jeremy’s temple as Jeremy fits himself against his side.
“Thank you,” Jean says.
”Jean,” Jeremy says, suddenly looking serious. “If anything, I should be thanking you for trusting me. You don’t have to thank me for this.”
Maybe not, Jean thinks. But he will anyway. If not for this, then for simply existing.