Off Campus (16 page)

Holding himself still was tiring, though, as Reese twisted and turned and tried to find a way to share the twin bed with Tom without feeling trapped by his larger body. Eventually Tom closed his eyes and waited it out, every muscle in his body twitching each time Reese pressed up against his naked skin. He'd have sworn he was awake for every torturous moment, but when he jerked away with a start, it was obvious he'd been napping for a while. Long enough for his roommate to get comfortable with the situation.

Reese was sprawled on his chest, sweaty skin sticking to Tom's where he pressed against the length of Tom's left side, his head resting on Tom's biceps.

He must have felt Tom twitch because his eyes were locked on Tom's when Tom pried his own lids open to suss out their respective positions.

“God, you're hot.” Reese was half-teasing, half not. He could tell by the grin overpowered by the stare. “Your muscles are so fucking hard. I wish—”

“What?”

The pause while he waited for Reese to finish his sentence lasted long enough for Tom to worry that he'd managed to remind Reese of He Who Shall Not Be Named after all. Fuck.

“It's just, there are things I miss, you know? Things I can't do anymore.”

“Can't, because…”

Reese's voice was matter of fact.

“Because having a weeping panic attack is generally considered a turn-off in bed.”

Tom turned his head and pressed his lips to the top of Reese's sweaty head, wanting to wrap his arms around him and hang on but knowing that wouldn't help.

After a minute, Reese started talking again, tracing a finger along the muscles of Tom's chest, which would have gotten things going again if Tom hadn't just come his brains out all over Reese's stomach.

“I used to like
different
things, you know? Than the stuff I do now.” Tom felt Reese's head move against his arm as he looked up, checking Tom's reaction. He took a slow breath and kept his eyes on the ceiling. Not the best time for a safety lecture, no doubt. “I told you, that night. But it wasn't just…getting fucked. It was feeling wrapped up in someone, surrounded by them. It used to make me feel, I don't know. Safe.”

“And now it—”

“Makes me pretty sure I'm having a heart attack and I'm going to die.” Reese's laugh was short and soft. “Not really fun for the person next to me.”

“Roll over.”

Tom wanted to try something.

“What?”

“Roll over. On your side.”

“Why?”

“Just try it.”

Reese slid off him and curled up on his side, head resting on Tom's arm. His shoulders were hunched in as he pulled his knees up and huddled next to Tom. The bumps of his vertebrae were highlighted by the street light spilling in the window, a delicate chain curving down to his butt.

Tom kept his hands back as he curled onto his side, right behind Reese. The heat radiating off Reese's body warmed his stomach, his thighs, his shins. He tucked himself in like…

“Pretend you're sitting on me. Like a chair.”

The goofiness of the image actually made Reese huff a short laugh. His spine lost a little of its intense hunch toward his knees. After a moment, he scooched back an inch until they were pressed together from shoulder to ankle, exactly as if Tom were his own personal armchair.

Tom rested his arm along his own hip and held still. He'd hoped that by having nothing on him or around him, with the open space of their room in front of him, Reese might be able to tolerate the feel of him, might let him recreate that feeling of safety and being surrounded in a way that didn't cause fear.

When Reese reached back and grabbed his hand, Tom stopped breathing.

He pulled Tom's hand forward and put it on his hip. Then let go and curled his own hands together in front of his chest again.

“Don't move, okay?”

The pillow was wet under his temples. He didn't move his hand to wipe his eyes. Tom stared at the dark head in front of him, wondering how this kid was so much braver than he would ever be.

“Okay,” he said. And held still until he fell asleep again.

Chapter Ten

Crawling out of bed before dawn to hit the road was way harder when there was a warm body next to his, even if that warm body was kneeing him in the kidneys and burrowing a forehead into his spine. But he got up because even the possibility of morning sex couldn't drown out the voice shouting in the back of his head that said he'd already lost almost eighteen hours on the clock. And there was no guarantee he'd get another cab this weekend after pissing off dispatch by dropping his car off halfway into the shift. So, warm body sharing the bed or no, it was time to head out.

Tom ruffled his fingers through Reese's hair and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his bare shoulder as Reese reached out in his sleep and claimed the freed up space in the twin bed.

At least he wouldn't have any problem staying awake tonight. There was absolutely no chance he'd be able to stop himself from obsessively replaying every moment of their half-naked grinding chair sex over and over every moment he wasn't actually driving the cab.

Shit. He'd be lucky if he could stop himself doing it long enough to get his fares safely from Point A to Point B. For once, he'd probably find himself hoping for dead time between trips, minutes to let his mind wander.

But his late night waits for fares outside of hotels and bars were transformed from dead time into playtime when his phone rang with the twanging strains of country and he swiped it on to hear Reese's voice drilling right into his head via his earpiece.

“Hey roomie. Anyone with you?”

“Nah. I'm waiting for a…friend who needed a ride to Logan at midnight.” It was eleven forty-five and Tom was scheduled to pick up a fare at the Ritz Carlton who was heading to the airport. Not yet time for the bar crowd to start heading home, so he was gonna squeeze in this one last fare to Logan and hope to get lucky so he wasn't deadheading it back into the city with an empty back seat.

“So you got fifteen minutes before he comes down, right?”

“Probably.” He wiggled his butt deeper into the seat and leaned his head back, willing to let fifteen minutes of chatter with Reese distract him from the irritating idleness of waiting. And the obsessive sex replays.

“If I tell you how much I wanna suck your dick again, in extreme detail, think I can get you off before he gets there?”

Tom sat up straight, jeans instantly tight in the crotch as his penis swelled, half-hard in an instant at Reese's cheerful question.

“Holy shit.” He dropped his hand to his lap reflexively and squeezed the rough fabric over his dick. The newly healing skin on his hand stretched tight as his grip flexed.

“Let's give it the old college try, shall we?”

It was like talking to an Oxford don on crack. Porn crack.

“Because last night was hot, no question, but the next time I pull your zipper down? It's going to be with my teeth. You're gonna feel my breath, all nice and hot on your dick, because I'm gonna lick you through your shorts for a while, and smell you, get my nose right in there, until everything is all wet and I can practically see the head of your dick outlined against the fabric.”

And because Reese was a genius, a genuine mad scientist genius, at torture sex, he dragged his description of sucking Tom's cock out so long that he'd just sucked the head into his mouth, verbally speaking, when Tom's fare jiggled the handle and rapped on the rear window to get him to unlock the door.

Reese's chipper “Call me later!” had Tom groaning in frustration and actual pain, his dick an iron bar in his pants as he cranked the key in the ignition and tried to remember how to drive.

For once he cursed the taxi karma gods that rained down fares on him one after the other that night. Every time a fare swiped a credit card or passed him cash, his hand was already stroking his phone, calling Reese. And every time, before he could cruise down the block or around a corner, one hand on the wheel, one hand in his lap, squeezing his dick, he'd spot another fare. He was tempted to flip his roof light off every damn time and slide by until he could park deep in the shadows of a residential side street somewhere and fucking
get off
with Reese's voice slicking its way through the ether into his ear. But the thought of his looming second semester tuition bill, like a giant boulder braced from tumbling downhill and crushing all in its path by one small protrusion, a tiny little bump he built one fare at a time. But it always needed shoring up, the danger forever rocking just over his head.

So he picked up every fare and even pissed off another cabbie, slicing across two lanes and catching the tail end of a yellow light to scoop a rare late night fare in Dorchester. And every time the back door chunked closed after he got paid, his hands grabbed the phone and called Reese, who talked him hard again in seconds.

Until it was practically dawn and the phone rang and rang and he knew that Reese had finally fallen asleep, leaving him riding the edge of this curling wave of desire that threatened to suck him under and never let him go.

Even jerking off in his backseat, wrapped up in a blanket and spilling hard into yesterday's T-shirt didn't do more than take the edge off the need that had ripped through him every time the phone buzzed and Reese's voice had whispered low in his ear.

By the time Sunday night came around, Tom was grateful he didn't get pulled over for doing a hundred on the Mass Pike all the way back to campus.

He'd refused to get on the phone with Reese during the drive back.

“Me ending up a giant smear of blood and come on the highway is not the way this weekend is gonna end. I'm hanging up now. See you in an hour.”

He bounced through the radio spectrum, taking out his excess energy and sexual tension with ADHD hopping about, from alt country to some heavy electronica, to the 50s and 60s classics his dad had loved. Until that last made him blink and soften up and he cranked it back to the heavy bass of dubstep, whose mechanical shuffling, thumping beat kept his edge until he slid off the highway, through the side streets and into the perfect karma of a parking spot around the corner from Perkins House.

Legs pumping, he bounded up the stairs two and three at a time and his heart was racing when he hit their room, shutting the door with a click behind him and leaning back against it with his hands on the knob behind him.

“Hey.”

Reese was seated at his desk, head propped on one fist, elbow on the desk, as he angled back and watched Tom come through the door.

“Hey.”

Books sprawled across the desk, battling for space with scribbled-upon notebook paper and an aggressive number of pens, but Tom would have bet a hundred bucks that his roommate couldn't have described the last page he'd read.

He was getting good at picking up on a nervous Reese via nonverbal cues.

The lip biting. The staring up at him through the eyelashes. The digging of one hand into a back jeans pocket, pushing down a little so the waistband gaped at the small of his back, just calling for a hand to be snuck down there until fingers grabbed the top of his ass…

Okay, maybe that part was his imagination.

“I should mention that, although I talk a really good game, I maybe crossed some lines last night.” Yup. There was no denying Reese's nerves. He wasn't quite lion tamer behind the chair again, but that might have been strictly a willpower triumph. Tom forced his hands to release the doorknob and hang casually at his sides, instead of ripping his own T-shirt off over his head and stripping his pants off immediately thereafter.

“Reese, I can't even count the number of lines we've crossed. Think you can be more specific?”

“Umm, about the whole sex thing?”

Yeeeah, that didn't bode well for his evening.

Focus.

Listen to Reese, not your dick, asshole.

“If sex is off the table, I'm gonna cry. Just saying.” He winked at Reese and immediately felt like a total creep. “I'm kidding, of course. I mean, really, just kidding. God, that sounded like I wanted to pressure you into sex or a blowjob or something. It's totally okay if you want a break. Or you know, to not do it. Ever. Again.”

Seriously with the crying, though.

Reese flushed.

“Don't be stupid. If I could've sucked your dick through the phone last night, I would've. I just can't, you know, throw down. Like, I don't know, some kind of sex fiend or something.”

“Dude, you are totally a sex fiend.”

The compliment distracted Reese for a moment. He planted a hand on his hip and cocked his head to the side, eyebrows flying up.

“I know, right? But you know what I mean. I still need to…” He trailed off, biting his lip and tilting his chin down while looking up at Tom in a way that he already read as tentative flirtation. The contrast with the gritty, filthy words that had streamed through his phone like a heroin hit to his brain made his skin hum and tighten. He held himself in place, the door hard and cold beneath his shoulders.

“Do things your way. I got it. No worries.” He nodded, gripping his own wrists behind his back so hard that he wondered if he'd leave bruises. “Whatever works for you. I'm down.” He cleared his throat after another moment of silent staring from Reese, sitting at the desk and wide-eyeing him. “What, um, works for you?”

“Not looming over me from across the room would be good.” Reese frowned at him as he stood up and took a step forward.

Tom's knees shook a little, catching him off guard. He put a hand up to the corner edge of the wall just past their closets, almost all the way in their room, but still holding back.

“Tell me what to do and I'll do it.” His laugh was short. “Shit. There isn't a goddamn thing you couldn't tell me to do right now that I wouldn't do.”

He didn't think Reese's eyes could get any bigger. He was wrong. When they narrowed, Tom's heart started racing so fast he could barely hear Reese over the rushing sound in his ears.

“Lie down on your bed.”

He jumped to obey, kicking off his shoes on the way. Once on his back, though, he didn't know what to do with his hands, lacing them awkwardly on his stomach, like a school kid in church.

Not the image he wanted in his mind right now.

“Take your pants off.”

It was harder than it sounded. His hands fumbled with his zipper and he struggled to get his jeans past his hips. Struggled until they were finally at his thighs and he could push them off, tucking his knees up to his chest to do it, aware the entire time of Reese watching him, eyes on his stiffening dick or his ass.

Reese didn't tell him to take his shirt off and lying there partially dressed heightened the feeling of exposure until his hands started to tremble. Flipping their dynamic, being the one who was watched after all this time of being the one who did the watching, made him shiver. He didn't know how Reese could stand it. The tension, the suspense, feeling someone's eyes on you and not knowing what was going through their head.

Being able to do this either made Reese the bravest or the most fucked up guy he knew. Maybe both.

The overhead light was shining in his eyes until Reese's shadow fell across him as he moved to the side of the bed, looking down at Tom with a calm face. He'd slipped into that place he went to with the boys he picked up and brought back to their room and for a moment Tom almost said something. Almost sat up and tried to change the mood until it felt more like Friday night had, when the two of them had tipped over the edge together.

But he'd meant it when he'd told Reese that there wasn't anything Reese couldn't tell him to do right now and a part of him
wanted
to experience it again, that total surrender of control he'd handed to Reese the night he'd burned his arm. He knew that the control was a way for Reese to handle his own fears, to keep himself in the now instead of sliding back to memories of a night that paralyzed him when he couldn't block it out, but Tom also had his own reasons for giving up control. For loosening, if only for a little while, that tight grip he had on his every hour, thought and deed, everything so precisely organized to allow him this chance at clawing a little bit of normalcy back into his life by finishing school. Normalcy and the lock on his future, that thing that had always been vaguely golden and sturdy, until the day he'd watched it shimmer and disappear like a mirage. When he'd finally woken up and realized that there was no one, no one who would help him, no one to provide that safety net, he'd gone on lockdown. Every dollar, every hour, of vital importance, no time allowed to be wasted on fear, frustration, loneliness, any of the things he felt in the months of high-end homelessness he'd made it through on his way back here. Here, to this room, where he'd planned on holing up and shutting out the world until he graduated.

This room, where he'd found his wreck of a boy, battling his way out from under his own demon and watching him now with eyes that narrowed and gleamed.

“Touch yourself.”

He dropped his hands immediately to his dick, only to have Reese swat them away with a glancing blow that made his dick bounce and harden further. He gasped in surprise.

“Not your dick. Not yet. Just touch yourself. Show me what feels good.”

Awkwardness swirled in his belly as he flushed, feeling like an idiot. What
felt
good? Shit. He didn't even know any more what felt good, other than Reese touching him, which wasn't happening yet, but he hoped would soon.

He closed his eyes, because he wasn't brave enough to do this with them open. Dropped his hands to his chest and tried to remember if he liked to be touched there. His hands were jerking across his stomach, the least sexy caress ever, when the light still glowing through his eyelids dimmed further and lips brushed against his forehead.

“Hey, relax.”

It was easier to talk with his eyes shut. Easier to be honest in the little bit of dark he made for himself.