Alex meets Jordan while he’s getting on a train that takes him to work. He’s never seen the man, and he usually recognizes most of the regular commuters on his ride. As Alex steps aboard, this new man looks at him with electric blue eyes, the kind of blue that only burns in the hottest flames. Alex actually says, “Whoa,” out loud, feeling pierced by that gaze.
The man’s mouth quirks into a curious, unreadable smile, amused and yet knowing. It’s clear he’s gotten this before. His eyes, however, are intensely curious, but as to what, Alex couldn’t begin to speculate. “I’m Jordan,” the man says, reaching out. He has short black hair, scruffle growing along his jaw and chin, rugged features, and that smile, that strange smile.
Alex doesn’t even know why he responds, he has no need to, but he extends his hand in return. “Alex.” He says, unable to take his eyes from Jordan’s, feeling vulnerable. It is only when Jordan looks away that he feels less out of control.
They get off at the same time, and Alex glances at Jordan. “Where are you headed?” Jordan nods at the building directly in front of them.
“First day on the job,” Jordan replies. “You?” That curious gaze, again, on Alex. Alex points down the street about half a block. “Well, I suppose maybe I’ll see you later.” He nods at Alex and then heads to his building.
They don’t see each other on the ride home, but the next day, Alex steps on the train and Jordan is there, same spot as before, same piercing gaze, and that same smile, only half his mouth curving up. So they start to talk, and it doesn’t take long before they become friends. They talk every day on the train going to work, and Alex starts working longer hours just to talk with Jordan on the way back. It’s odd, how fast their friendship is forming, and at the same time, he knows that there’s something more than friendship. He’s straight, he’s always been straight, but the idea of walking away from this to avoid having to say that he might be attracted to a man is not an option. That would be worse than saying that he is, in fact, attracted to Jordan. Not that he ever does, it just is an unspoken understanding that never is acted upon. And Jordan seems to feel the same way back.
One day, Jordan mentions that he’s bought a car and won’t be riding the train anymore. Alex is disappointed, until Jordan offers to give him rides to and from work, in exchange for gas money. With no hesitation, Alex agrees. And so that first day comes and goes, and now he is sitting outside his house with Jordan in the driver’s seat. He gets out of the car, and Jordan follows him to his door, which he didn’t need to do. Jordan is the quiet one of them as usual, watching Alex with that tilted smile and knowing, penetrative gaze. “Good night,” he says quietly, even as he leans in and kisses Alex.
Alex breathes in sharply but kisses back, harder than Jordan, and he’s trying to unlock the door without turning around. They make it as far as the couch before they fall, Jordan’s weight on Alex warm and heavy and welcome, and Alex pushing his fingers through Jordan’s short hair. He doesn’t protest when Jordan strips off his shirt, then his pants and boxers, although he does take a moment to remove his socks, feeling a little stupid with them on. When he reaches for Jordan, his hand is shoved away gently.
Then he feels Jordan’s hand on his cock, smearing the precome, bringing his hand to his mouth for saliva before reaching back down and stroking, twisting slightly on each upstroke, and Alex jerks towards Jordan’s hand, his own clamping down on Jordan’s thigh and hearing himself making noises he would never have expected, breathy moans and yes, please, fuck, sounding desperately needy into Jordan’s mouth.
Jordan’s mouth has never left his, hard kisses, Jordan’s scruffle a raw scratching against his lower lip and chin. It’s all overwhelming and he is actually embarrassed at how quickly he comes, feeling his balls tighten, the weight of his cock grow heavier, and then that wonderful sudden overwhelming release, his brain snapping and overwhelmed, until he feels his post-orgasmic bliss seep into every cell in his body, lulling him into a tired stupor.
Jordan stands, wipes his hand on a tissue and throws it away, and Alex sees the hard bulge in his pants, the tiniest spot of damp against khaki trousers. He is smiling in his eyes now, and nods at Alex. “See you tomorrow,” and heads for the door. Alex is surprised.
“But… what… what about you? Don’t you want…” He trails off, looking at Jordan in surprise. Jordan smirks and steps back over to Alex, looking down on him with pleasure.
“Like I said – see you tomorrow.”
One Comment
The “telling” of this story blew it for me. There’s an emotional remove to this piece that doesn’t need to be there, an emotional distance that kept reminding me that I wasn’t being drawn in because the writer is driving the tale, rather than the tale’s events driving the tale. It’s like having the director of a film narrate over the film’s action and characters.
What I did like was that you’re showing some sense of motivation, however abbreviated (not necessarily a bad thing, especially in this genre), for the characters’ doing what they do. Next time, maybe letting the characters’ actions bespeak their intentions/feelings, instead of narrating it yourself, would make this a five-star piece instead of a two-star piece.