Eight Nights (3 page)
* * * * *
He sat up and surveyed the room. Nate’s bed beside him, closest to the windows, was empty. Across the way, an extra wardrobe stood in the corner beside the bathroom, and light shone through the half-open bathroom door, the water running in the shower.
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Lucas couldn’t wait to pee. He got up to venture into the hall to find another toilet, but his eyes kept finding the half-open door, and he hesitated. Without really knowing what he was doing, he tiptoed toward it. A couple of feet away he stopped suddenly, breath frozen in his chest.
Through the doorway he could see the large mirror over the white sink. Reflected in it was Nate, who Lucas could see clearly through a completely transparent shower curtain.
Nate’s head tipped back under the water as his hands soaped his body.
A body that was more toned and defined that Lucas would ever have guessed.
Lucas forced a breath into his lungs as his pulse thrummed. With a start, he realized he was hard -- not unusual first thing in the morning -- and he clenched his fist to avoid touching himself.
Nate began stroking himself lazily as if on cue. He leaned a shoulder against the tiles; his eyes closed as he worked his hand up and down his shaft. He tugged a few times, and Lucas whimpered with need.
The water sluiced down Nate’s firm, long body, steam beginning to rise as he continued working himself. Lucas moved a step closer, squinting at the image in the mirror to get a better look. With his other hand, Nate fondled his balls, and his strokes increased in tempo.
Lucas wasn’t sure when it happened, but his own hand was down his pajamas, fist tight around his cock and moving like a jackhammer. The mirror in the bathroom was fogging, and Lucas knew he couldn’t risk getting any closer. He heard Nate’s muffled moan, and the sound was enough to put Lucas over the edge as he emptied into his hand, the rush of pleasure practically knocking him over.
There was a soft thud as he caught himself on the wall, and in the mirror he thought he saw Nate’s head turn his way, eyes open. Lucas stumbled backward and dove into his bed, pulling the covers up and flipping on his side toward the door.
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With his eyes jammed shut, he tried to catch his breath and keep still. A minute later, he heard Nate pad into the room. Lucas feigned sleep as Nate dressed and ignored the fact that now he really, really had to pee.
When Nate finally left the room, closing the door gently behind him, Lucas waited thirty seconds and then hurried into the bathroom to relieve himself. His pajamas were a sticky mess. He couldn’t exactly hang them to dry, so he spread them out under his duvet after a quick rinse, knowing he might have to sleep in a damp bed that night.
Downstairs, Nate and his father talked quietly at the kitchen table, sipping coffee. Nate handed Lucas a steaming mug, their fingers brushing. Lucas stammered out his thanks and was soon embroiled in a discussion with Mr. Kramer about Sam’s many achievements in basketball.
As Mr. Kramer waxed poetic on a game-winning layup Sam had made, Lucas wondered if Rachel was right about Nate’s lack of girlfriend.
Every time Lucas glanced at Nate, his temperature rose with a rush of desire. He wanted him, and now he’d be in close quarters with him for days on end. Looking, but not touching.
It was going to be a very, very long holiday.
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Lucas spent the afternoon with Sam and his father in the den, watching football on a big-screen plasma TV that made Lucas practically drool. Nate had disappeared into his room after lunch, and Lucas tried not to obsess about what he was doing.
It was just after five when Mrs. Kramer told them it was time to light the menorah.
Sam groaned, and Lucas could have sworn Mr. Kramer did too, but they obediently headed to the front room.
Nate was already there, the matches in his hand. As Lucas watched Nate, he couldn’t help but notice how his ass looked in his faded jeans, and he mentally slapped himself with the reminder that this was a religious ceremony.
Nate seemed to only recite two blessings before lighting the candles, when Lucas thought there had been three the night before. As if he could read Lucas’s mind, Nate said,
“There only three blessings on the first night, and we don’t bother with the prayer and song when it’s just us.”
“Can we get back to the game now?” Sam looked at his mother, waiting for her approval.
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Her hands found her hips and she good-naturedly said, “You know this is supposed to be a time for family, not for TV.”
“Sweetheart, it’s the fourth quarter.” Mr. Kramer gave his wife a beseeching smile.
With a laugh, she shooed them out, her husband kissing her soundly on his way. “Go on, Lucas. I’ll be in with dinner in a little while.”
“Do you want any help? I don’t really care that much about football.” Nate was already at the foot of the stairs, and Lucas willed him to turn around and stay.
Nate smirked. “Don’t care about sports? That’s sacrilege in this house.” Then he was gone, his steps fading as he went back upstairs.
Sam’s voice bellowed from the den. “Dude, you’ve got to see this play! Come on, you’re missing it!”
With a smile for Mrs. Kramer, Lucas reluctantly returned to the den.
* * * * *
When Lucas said goodnight just before eleven, Mrs. Kramer gave him a plate of sufganiyot to take up to Nate. “Always hiding away up there. He doesn’t eat enough.”
Lucas knocked softly on Nate’s closed bedroom door before opening it. To his surprise, Nate wasn’t in the darkened room, and the bathroom appeared empty. The space around the closet door glowed with a reddish light, and after a moment of debate, Lucas approached and knocked.
“Hold on,” Nate said.
“Okay.” Lucas stood there with the plate of doughnuts, wondering what on earth could be going on inside.
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Two long minutes later, Nate opened the door and Lucas felt a flush of embarrassment for not figuring out that the red light was indicative of a darkroom. The walk-in closet had been fashioned into a working space with a counter running around the perimeter holding trays of developing liquid. A clothesline ran across the back of the closet, large photographs pinned to it.
“You’re a photographer?”
Nate chuckled. “You clearly have a future as a detective.”
Flushing, Lucas shuffled his feet. “Clearly.” He suddenly remembered the plate in his hand. “Here, your mom thinks you need to eat more. I can just leave them.”
“You wanna come in? I’ve just got to develop a couple more shots.”
Lucas nodded and pulled the door shut behind him. Enclosed in the small space with Nate, his pulse raced. In the soft red glow, Nate looked better than ever, and Lucas fought the urge to reach out and touch him.
Lord, he needed to get a grip. Lucas cleared his throat and attempted to clear his mind.
“I guess this explains why you keep your clothes in that wardrobe.”
“Yeah, Mom was overjoyed when I made this a darkroom, as I’m sure you can imagine.” He glanced over his shoulder as he splashed some fluid into one of the trays. “You ever develop a picture before?”
“Uh uh.” Lucas had been examining the back of Nate’s neck, and didn’t feel capable of complete sentences.
“I’ll show you.”
As Nate went through the steps, Lucas tried to pay attention. At one point, Nate handed him a pair of rubber-tipped tongs, and Lucas dutifully plucked out a developed photo and hung it on the line. They worked in companionable silence, and Lucas found he enjoyed watching the photographs come to life. They were all black-and-white cityscapes, and he felt Eight Nights
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a frisson of excitement, knowing he’d get a chance to finally see New York for himself in the days to come.
“You took all of these?” Lucas admired the clean lines and unique angles of the photos.
Nate waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah, I’m just messing around.”
“I’d like to see what you can do when you’re taking it seriously because these are amazing.”
“It’s nice of you to say so.” Nate wiped his hands on a towel and plucked a doughnut from the plate Lucas had left on the counter. “We just need to wait now before we open the door.”
Nate didn’t seem comfortable with praise, so Lucas stopped talking and took his own doughnut, relishing the sweet, fruity flavor. He couldn’t understand why Nate trivialized his talent. Lucas was no expert, but he found the photographs beautiful.
They ate in silence, and Lucas noticed a blob of jelly filling on the corner of Nate’s mouth. Before he could think, he reached out, swiping at it with his finger. Their eyes locked, and Lucas froze, his hand still at Nate’s mouth.
Oh God, what was he doing?
He stayed in place, not breathing as he and Nate stared at each other in the muted red light. Before Lucas could process what was happening, Nate’s tongue curled out and licked the jelly from his finger. A jolt of desire ran though Lucas, and he swallowed thickly, his throat suddenly dry.
Nate turned his head just a bit and sucked Lucas’s finger into his mouth.
As Lucas moaned low in his throat, Nate yanked him close, and they were kissing.
Lucas’s head swam from the explosion of sensations he felt.
He was actually kissing another man.
He opened his mouth and Nate’s tongue dived in, probing and stroking as his hands ran over Lucas’s back, down to his ass.
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Quiet, mild-mannered Nathaniel Kramer was grabbing his ass.
His head swimming, Lucas kissed Nate back, his body alive in a way it never had been while kissing a girl. The scratch of Nate’s stubble, his musky scent -- every thing about him was so male, and any lingering doubts Lucas had about being gay melted away as he explored Nate’s mouth.
They both gasped for air, and Lucas realized that his jeans were undone as Nate sank to his knees. “What are you…?”
As Nate grinned wickedly and took Lucas in his mouth, all intelligent thought fled.
Lucas leaned back against the counter, his hands searching for purchase as he moaned at the sensation of the wet heat of Nate’s mouth. His right hand slid into one of the wet developing trays as Nate sucked him into his throat, and Lucas’s whole body vibrated. Nate’s tongue was doing things he’d never imagined possible, and it certainly hadn’t felt like this when Paige Gallner had sucked him off on prom night.
Lucas felt like his cock was pulsing in time with his heart, all his nerve endings on fire.
He quivered as Nate cradled his balls, and an instant later, he tipped over the edge, coming into Nate’s mouth as he closed his eyes and saw red-tinged stars. Nate held Lucas up with strong hands on his hips, standing a few moments later, swiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Uh…” Lucas still couldn’t seem to form a sentence, which made Nate smile as he began jerking himself off casually. Lucas watched, wide-eyed. “So, you’re gay, too?”
Nate’s eyebrows arched in amusement. “Detective material for sure.”
Lucas tried to keep his eyes on Nate’s face, which was a challenge when Nate was stroking himself. A drop of precum glistened on the end of his long, hard cock, and Lucas had the urge to lean down and taste it. He tried to focus. “You knew I was gay?”
“I hoped. I knew when you watched me jerk off in the shower.”
Blood rushing to his cheeks, Lucas squeaked in embarrassment.
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His hand still stroking his cock, Nate laughed softly. “I figured if you fell into my trap, this Hanukkah could be a lot more memorable than usual.”
“A trap? That’s…that’s…” Lucas trailed off, distracted as Nate started breathing harder, fisting his dick faster, eyes locked on Lucas’s face. Lucas watched, enraptured, as Nate came into his hand, some of it landing on Lucas’s foot.
Lucas couldn’t quite get organized enough to wipe it off, and Nate bent down and did it for him. “Sorry about that.” He smirked, and raised a sticky finger, rubbing it along Lucas’s bottom lip. “So what do you say we have some fun this holiday?”
All Lucas could do was nod, and then Nate was kissing him again.
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“Look at this fog -- sticking around all day! There’s a gorgeous view from this bridge, but I’m afraid the weather’s not cooperating.”
Lucas spoke up from the backseat. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Kramer. I’m sure I’ll see the view another day.”
“You simply must. Perhaps you can come back into the city on the ferry. You’ll get a good look at the Statue of Liberty, too. I’m afraid I don’t like heights, or I’d have taken you up the Empire State Building myself today.” She glanced in the rearview. “Sam, you’ll take Lucas back tomorrow?”
“I’ve got stuff to do with my friends. I already spent a whole day at a stupid museum.”
“Samuel.”
The truth was, Lucas couldn’t have cared less about seeing the city anymore. What he cared about was that Nate had been an arm’s length away from him all day and he couldn’t touch him. Nate had taken the front seat after a heated debate with Sam, and he was tantalizingly close, yet out of reach. Lucas’s leg jittered, and he noted the traffic with impatience. He just wanted to be back in Nate’s room.
Back in his bed.
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Well, he hadn’t slept there or anything. After they’d made out again and Nate had given Lucas another mind-bending blowjob, they’d slept in separate beds. Lucas knew it was stupid to sleep together in a tiny twin bed when Nate’s parents could walk in at any time, but he still wanted to. When he woke, Nate was already downstairs.