Self Preservation (8 page)

Their bodies were hot and beginning to drip with sweat as they each groaned. Jack began to feel his balls rise as he thrust his cock into Davis's mouth, exploding with a force that took Davis by surprise as he swallowed every last drop. Jack sucked Davis down to the back of his throat as Davis returned the favor, clamping his ass around Jack's fingers.

They were breathing heavily as Davis let out a small moan, his head swimming with alcohol and dizzy with lust. Davis started sucking the head of Jack's dick again, working his tongue over it as Jack began to get hard again.

Jack moaned, knowing what Davis still wanted from him. He didn't want to give it to him, even though he desperately wanted it for himself. Davis was just going to leave him tomorrow, and Jack didn't want him going away completely satisfied. Jack closed his eyes as Davis took him back deep into his mouth. Jack pulled himself up off the floor and went into the bathroom.

Davis heard him ripping open a drawer and rummaging through it, before slamming it shut. Jack came back around the corner, dropping a tube of lube and strip of condoms on the floor next to Davis. Davis closed his eyes, wishing he hadn't seen the condoms. They'd been monogamous before they broke up and had long since stopped using protection. He knew in the back of his mind Jack would have been having sex with other men, but he'd tried to convince himself he was wrong. Seeing them on the floor next to him was a red-hot slap in the face courtesy of reality.

Jack looked down at him. He smiled, watching Davis's face as he looked at the condoms. Jack knew it would cut through Davis, and he'd cruelly brought the whole pack as opposed to just one. Jack knew he didn't possess the willpower to not fuck Davis. He wanted Davis so badly he couldn't see straight, but at least Davis wasn't going to get it without paying a bit of a price. That thought made Jack's cock rock hard.

Jack dropped to his knees and picked up the condoms, ripping one off and tossing the rest to the floor. A big grin spread across his face as he opened it and rolled it down his thick, long shaft. Davis sat up, grabbed Jack by the neck, and shoved his tongue into Jack's mouth. They kissed one another as Davis grabbed the lube off the floor and stood up. He took Jack by the hand and helped him up. Davis led Jack back to the couch and shoved him down onto it.

Jack smiled a little, not used to Davis being so aggressive. Davis grabbed Jack behind the knees, pulling him down some as he straddled Jack. He squirted lube into his hand as Jack began to reach up for his ass. Davis pushed his hand away. He roughly took Jack's cock in his hand and rubbed the lube over his shaft. Davis reached back and placed Jack's cock against his ass and began to sit down, taking Jack inside him.

They both closed their eyes, groaning, and Jack reached up, running his hands over Davis's chest, pinching his nipples. Davis didn't move for several moments. He sat on his knees, facing Jack with his eyes closed, enjoying the intense sensation as the fire raged from his ass all the way up through his chest and made the roots of his hair tingle. It had been almost five years since he'd had Jack inside him and he didn't want the pleasure to stop…ever.

Jack pulled on Davis's cock slowly as he looked up at him. Davis opened his eyes, looking down at Jack, and began lifting himself up and down, impaling himself. Jack's face strained from the pressure being applied to his dick. Davis began to go faster, and Jack started bucking his hips as if by instinct, trying to go deeper. Davis took Jack's hands, intertwining their fingers, and leaned forward, forcing Jack's arms down into the back of the couch. Davis pumped himself harder onto Jack's cock, rocking back and forth as the intense pleasure began to fill every inch of his body. He felt awake after a long sleep as his skin burned from the heat. Sweat dripped off him and down onto Jack.

Jack was moaning wildly, trying to force his hands free from Davis's but unable to. Jack was dying to get his hands on Davis's body. He continued bucking, meeting Davis's ass every time he came down on him.

They looked intently into one another's eyes as Davis whimpered at first, slowly building into louder groans and moans. Davis felt his stomach muscles tighten as he shot out thick loads onto Jack's stomach and chest. Jack's eyes widened at seeing Davis come without either of them laying a hand on his cock. Davis let go of Jack's arms, sitting up as he clamped his ass down. Jack shoved his head back into the couch, gritting his teeth as he unloaded into the condom inside Davis.

Davis sat on top of him as Jack ran his hands over Davis's legs. A large smile spread over Davis's face as he began to chuckle.

Jack looked up at the beautiful man who was still sitting on his softening dick and smiled as Davis went from chuckling to full-out laughter. He'd never seen Davis quite this way, taking control during sex, having that amazing of an orgasm, and now laughing his ass off. He loved these new little things, but they confused him as well.

“That was fucking amazing, Jack,” Davis said, laughing as his entire body tingled from sex and happiness.

Davis leaned up, allowing Jack to slip out of him. He reached back and picked up a half-empty glass of wine off the table. He took a sip and looked down at Jack, handing him the glass. Jack took it, grinning from ear to ear, and took a drink. Davis closed his eyes and ran his hands down his sweat-soaked chest and stomach. His skin was still tingly and he let out a deep groan, smiling.

Jack watched intently as Davis's hands ran over his own body. Jack licked his lips and took another drink as he began to feel himself getting aroused again watching Davis rub himself. His eyes followed Davis's fingers as they ran over his hard nipples, then down over the smooth, creamy white ridges of his abs. Jack reached up to take Davis's cock into his hand. Davis's smile widened as he looked back down at Jack. Jack smiled back with a mischievous expression on his face.

They made love twice more that night, passing out on the floor afterward in Jack's living room. Jack slept deeply, the way he used to when Davis was curled up in his arms.

When Jack woke the next morning and slowly got up, trying not to wake Davis, he stood, feeling the dull ache in his head from the wine. He looked down at Davis and smiled for a moment. His smile faded as he began to feel a little sick to his stomach. The wine, he thought, at first. But, no. It was dread.

Jack walked into the kitchen and put on some coffee. Standing at the kitchen counter, he folded his arms and looked out the window. Davis was supposed to leave that afternoon to go home. He hated the thought. It made him sick with anger. Maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he'd stay. He couldn't ask… He didn't have the right to. He'd pushed him away all those years ago without meaning to, and as much as he desperately wanted Davis to stay, it would have to be his decision, his choice to make.

Davis opened his eyes and looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings. He grinned, remembering where he was. Feeling the dull ache in his backside, he rolled onto his back and stretched out, letting out a little groan. He sat up, feeling a bit of dizziness, and realized he was probably still a little drunk. He looked around for Jack and heard dishes clattering from the kitchen. He pulled himself up off the floor and walked through the living room and around the corner.

“Good morning,” Davis said, smiling as he looked over Jack's beautiful, tanned, naked body.

“Hey,” Jack said as he glanced up at him for a moment before looking away. It made his chest ache, seeing Davis stand in his kitchen completely naked and thinking he wouldn't be there the next day.

Davis crinkled his forehead as he took another step forward, then stopped. He wanted to go wrap his arms around Jack but felt like maybe Jack didn't want that. He wouldn't even look at him.

“There's Advil on the counter if you need it,” Jack said, pouring two cups of coffee in mismatched mugs and handing one to Davis.

“Thanks,” Davis said, looking at Jack, trying to read his face. “But I think I might still be a little drunk.” Maybe he's not so happy about making love last night? Maybe it was just the rush of performing that made him do it, and not so much the rush of being together?

“Hungry?” Jack asked, placing his hands on the counter.

“I don't know,” Davis said, sitting down on the tiny wood bar stool and wincing a little from the glorious abuse his ass had taken the night before.

Jack turned, leaning back against the cabinets. “So I guess you're leaving this afternoon, huh?”

Davis stared at him.
Fuck…he wants me to go
. After what they'd shared last night? He didn't understand. “Yeah,” Davis said, closing his eyes. This isn't happening; it can't be. Why is he doing this?

“I'll call you a cab then,” Jack said, reaching for the phone, then punching in the numbers.

Davis got up off the stool and walked around the corner, heading down the hall. He reached down and scooped up his clothes as he went into the bathroom. His eyes began to well up as he dressed. He looked at himself in the mirror and literally willed himself to stop. He wasn't going to cry in front of Jack. He didn't want Jack to know he could still cut him into shreds, and he certainly didn't want to guilt him into saying something he obviously didn't want to.

Jack stood outside the bathroom door. He bent down and picked up his jeans, then slid them on as he tried to listen through the door. It took everything he had to not break down the door and slam his fists into Davis. He wanted to drag him by the wrists down the hall and tie his ass to the bed, forcing him to stay if necessary. He knew it wouldn't work, but it still took everything he had not to try. Davis opened the door and looked up at Jack. Jack looked over his shirt, remembering he'd torn half the buttons off.

“I'll get you a shirt.” Jack turned toward the bedroom.

“Don't bother,” Davis said without emotion, turning back toward the living room. If Jack wanted to treat him like a random piece of ass he'd picked up, then he'd fucking walk out looking like one.

Jack followed him back to the living room. Davis turned as he got to the door. He walked over and gave Jack a hug, lightly brushing his lips over Jack's mouth.

“I had a good time,” Davis said, pulling away with a smile. He turned back around and opened the door. As he shut it behind him, he was screaming in his head to stop. Screaming at Jack to fling open the door and stop him. He walked slowly, thinking maybe he might, but as the elevator opened and he stepped in, he knew it wasn't going to happen.

Jack walked over to the window looking down onto the street. He couldn't believe he could go from such a complete high to this desperate low in so short a time. He watched as Davis stood out on the curb, waiting for the cab. Look up, he thought.
If Davis looks up it'll mean I'm supposed to stop him. Fuck, that's stupid. I should just go stop him. What if I do go to stop him and he still leaves? Damn it.

Jack turned and ran for the door. He grabbed the door handle and stopped. He didn't have the right to try to stop him. Davis had made a life for himself, and maybe he was happy with that. He turned and ran back to the window and watched as Davis climbed into the cab. He spun around as it drove away, taking the last bit of hope Jack had with it. Jack looked down at the room in which they'd fucked all night. He walked over, picked up an empty bottle of wine, and threw it across the room, shattering it into pieces against the wall.

Davis sat in the back seat of the cab and the tears started to flow. He was so confused. The way they'd looked at one another last night. He knew it was real. It felt so real. Davis noticed the cab driver looking back at him through the rearview mirror. He reached up self-consciously and pulled his shirt closed. He couldn't believe that it was happening. No…this couldn't be happening. Jack would call Deseree's looking for him. There would already be a message by the time he got to her apartment.

When there was no message, Davis told himself that by the time he got home, Jack would have called. The days passed with nothing, and after a few weeks, he knew Jack wasn't going to call. When Davis finally got up the nerve to call Jack, he acted as if nothing had happened. It was all run-of-the-mill chitchat. Nothing that led Davis to hope, but he still did hope. Hope was all he had left.

Present day

Tadd's condo occupied the front half of the third floor in an old four-story brick and stone warehouse that had been converted into living space. The floor plan was open, and in the living areas, the ceiling was two stories high. The walls were a bright white with large pieces of artwork hanging along them, and pieces of sculpture were scattered throughout. It was very contemporary looking with the clean lines of minimalist furniture and tons of track lighting, which hung from the high ceiling. A large dining table sat under a huge modernist rectangular crystal chandelier. It seemed more like an art gallery than a living space. Stairs in the back of the large room led to a second level where the bedrooms were located.

The party was already in full swing when Davis, Jack, Deseree, and Candace arrived. People were scattered about in clusters, chattering away with cocktails in hand. There was a bar set up at the far end of the room and a jazz quartet along the back wall next to the dining table. The caterers were running about the open kitchen, and waitstaff walked around the room with trays of hors d'oeuvres. Candace was immediately swallowed up by adoring fans.

Jack turned to Davis and Deseree. “I'll go see if I can find Tadd.”

“We'll be at the bar,” Deseree said as Jack walked off, leaving Davis and Deseree to move into the crowd.

“People are staring at me,” Davis observed as several men looked him up and down.

“You can thank me anytime,” Deseree said as they walked up to the bar.

The bartender awaited instructions as they pointed at one another. “Ketel One dirty martini, up,” Deseree said at the same time Davis said, “Ketel One cosmo, up.”

“Better make mine a club soda,” Deseree told the bartender as Davis gave her a look. “One of us needs to keep our wits. A glass of wine at dinner and you almost burst into tears.”

“Oh, fine.” Davis pouted, picking up a stir straw and fiddling with it. “Sue me for having feelings. It's your fault. You're the one that brought up monkey face.”

“Holy crap,” Deseree said, placing a hand on his arm. “What a minefield that was. And Jack's face when you said he shouldn't call you that anymore… I thought he was going to blow a gasket.”

“It did seem to have an effect.”

Deseree took the drinks from the bartender and held one out for Davis. He lifted his hand to take it and scowled. “These damn sleeves are too long.”

“They're supposed to be. You look hip.”

Davis frowned, flinging his hand around, trying to flip the cuff off so he could take the drink from her.

“Stop that!” Deseree shook her head at him. “You look ridiculous.”

“Well, hell.” Davis grinned as he pushed the sleeve back with his other hand and took the martini from her.

“Lean back on the bar and rest your elbows on it,” Deseree said, setting her drink down and moving in front of him. He did as instructed, and she undid a couple of the buttons on the bottom of the shirt. A naughty grin spread over her face as he looked down to see a tiny bit of his stomach showing.

“Again with making me look like a hooker.”

“Zip it,” she said, moving back to his side. She picked up her glass as they examined the crowd. “See, there's an extreme hottie over there checking you out. He looks kinda familiar.”

“Where?” Davis asked surveying the room. “I don't see.”

“By the windows, are you fucking blind? No wonder you've never met anyone else. You were probably too dense to notice them staring at you.”

“I have issues, we know this.” Davis shot her a look. “Besides, he could be cross-eyed for all we know.”

“Shit, he's coming this way,” Deseree said, excitedly taking a drink.

The man made his way through the crowd, and a hand grabbed his arm, stopping him. The crowd shifted and Davis and Deseree gasped. The hand that had halted him belonged to Jack.

“No fucking way.” Deseree watched as Jack embraced the other man. “That can't be him.”

“The Toad,” Davis said, eyes widening.

“You were totally his eye candy,” Deseree said, seeming a little miffed as Jack kissed the man. “It is him.”

“And he doesn't look very toad-like,” Davis said as his elbows slid off the top of the bar. “He's gorgeous.”

Tadd Austin was in his mid- to late thirties and was the type of man who would appear to be every bit as comfortable at an evening at the opera as he would floating down the river in an inner tube with a can of beer in his hand. He was very well built with an almost-intimidating physical presence. That impression, though, was softened by the kind eyes behind the wire-rimmed glasses he wore. He was dressed in a sleek black suit with a pristine white shirt that had the top few buttons undone, revealing a hint of the well-tanned, sculpted chest that lay beneath. His sandy blond hair looked product free and was loosely parted to one side. He possessed all one would think of in terms of what a man was supposed to look like.

Jack and Tadd separated, and Jack pointed toward Davis and Deseree. The two men made their way through the crowd, stopping once so Tadd and Jack could shake someone's hand, before walking up to Davis and Deseree.

“Davis, Des,” Jack said, placing his hand on Tadd's shoulder, “this is my fiancé, Tadd Austin.”

Davis and Deseree flashed overcompensating smiles as Tadd reached out his hand. “It's nice to meet you both. I've heard a lot about you,” he added, looking at Davis.

Davis stood there smiling up at him, wondering why Tadd couldn't just be a normal guy instead of Rock fucking Hudson.

“I was just telling Davis that you look very familiar.” Deseree jumped in, taking Tadd's hand. “Have we met?”

“No, but I'm a huge fan. I saw you on the VH1 Fashion Awards. You looked incredible.”

Look at him
, Davis thought.
I'm so screwed. He's gay-fection
.

“Oh, thanks,” Deseree said, taking her hand back. “I was a mess that night.”

“Well, honey, it didn't show,” Jack said with a wink.

“So, Davis,” Tadd said, turning his attention back to him, “Jack told me what you do. There's an old theater I was looking at doing some work on. I was really hoping to get a chance to pick your brain while you're here.”

Davis continued to stand there, smiling as he stared at Tadd. Deseree reached down and pinched Davis on the leg.

“Fuck!” Davis screamed as the three of them jumped. A few other people who were standing about turned to look as Davis grabbed Tadd's hand, shaking it vigorously. “You are one lucky man, Toad.” Davis's mouth fell slightly open as his eyes widened. “Did I just say Toad? That is so funny! I am so stupid!” Davis let go of Tadd's hand and slapped himself in the head. “I meant Tadd. 'Cause your name's Tadd, not Toad, isn't it? It is so great to meet you! Jack has told me nothing about you, so spill, 'cause I simply must know everything.”

Jack, Tadd, and Deseree all looked at Davis in silence. Deseree began to say something, but Davis jumped in, poking Tadd in the stomach. “Come on, don't be a shy guy.”

“Jack, you never told me he was so…lively,” Tadd said, visibly uncomfortable but grinning.

“Blah, blah, blah,” Davis said, shaking his drink around, spilling some on the floor. “It's time to dig deep. Tell me your dreams.”

Tadd turned his gaze toward Jack. “Well, at the moment, my only dream is to settle down with our guy here.”

“That is so adorable,” Deseree said, placing a hand on Tadd's arm.

“Thank you, baby,” Jack said to Tadd with a wink.

Tadd looked back at Davis. “And, of course, getting to know you. Candace and Jack speak so fondly of you.”

“Awww,” Davis said, rolling his head back and smiling.

“Davis, are you feeling okay?” Jack asked, looking over his face. “You look a little flushed.”

“Pee!”

“Excuse me?” Jack laughed, looking at Davis.

“I have to pee,” Davis said as he looked at Tadd. “Can you point me to the potty?”

“Oh, sure,” Tadd said, turning to point toward the hallway. “First door on the right.”

Deseree smiled sweetly as she grabbed Davis by the arm. “I'll go with. Give you two a couple of minutes to yourselves.”

Dragging Davis by the arm, she pushed through the crowd and entered the hallway. Davis opened the first door they came to and Deseree shoved him through the door, then closed it behind her. She flipped on the light and Davis gasped as he peered around the room.

Tadd's home office had a large drafting table sitting in front of the two double-hung wood frame windows. Stainless steel shelving units covered half of one wall, and a matching desk sat along the opposite wall with a lamp and cordless phone on a cradle.

There were a few architectural drawings framed and hanging in a grouping on one wall. Davis went over to the opposite wall and looked over the set of three framed
Architectural Digests
featuring Tadd's buildings. He let out a sick groan, walking along the wall, looking over the framed covers of
Out
and the
Advocate
with Tadd on the cover, one of which listed him as one of the most eligible bachelors in the country. There were also newspaper articles showing Tadd cutting the ribbon to an apartment building he'd renovated, donating his time and money for low-income housing for people living with HIV, and a photo of Tadd shaking hands with a boy who was the president of the gay youth group Tadd sponsored.

“He's
that
Tadd Austin,” Deseree said, biting her lip and placing her hands on her hips as Davis began to hyperventilate.

“
That
Tadd Austin?” Davis asked, placing his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. “You knew about this!”

“I knew I recognized him.” She grabbed Davis by the hand and pulled him out of the room. She shoved him across the hall and into the bathroom, and locked the door behind them.

“Look at yourself.” She pointed toward Davis's reflection in the mirror. “You're getting all splotchy and you're sweating… I told you not to sweat.” Deseree bent to rip some toilet paper off the roll. She dabbed his forehead with it.

“He's everything I'm not and never could be,” Davis said, eyes glazing over as Deseree grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him.

“Exactly, he's nothing like you, and Jack spent four years with you. You obviously have qualities Jack likes.”

“He's like…Supergay.”

“Okay.” Deseree thought aloud, biting her nail. “How do I put this in a way you'll understand? So, he's perfect, we admit this. Like a gay man's Grace Kelly.”

Davis sulked. “Um, hi…this is so not helping.”

“Snappish,” she said, smacking him.

“Sorry. Please continue.”

“Well, men may look at Grace Kelly and be initially sucked in by that kind of icy beauty…but in reality, they would be much happier with a funny, quirky, sexy Carole Lombard type with a heart of gold and an endearing, sweet innocence.”

“And I'm Carole Lombard?” Davis asked, chewing on his lip.

“Yes, the Toad may be the perfect beauty, but perfection can be very wearing.”

“That's true,” Davis said, beginning to calm down. “I love Carole Lombard!”

“Who doesn't? You are the girl next door, damn it,” Deseree said, turning Davis toward the mirror to look at himself. “And we all know the girl next door always wins in the end.”

“Right, you're right.”

“You bet your new Guccis I'm right.”

Davis looked at her through the mirror. “But you're a Carole Lombard too, and you're still single.”

“That's true, but I haven't found my Clark Gable yet. You have,” Deseree said, turning to look at herself in the mirror. “Besides, I'm really more of a cross between Lucille Ball and Rosalind Russell.”

Davis smiled at her. “I can see that.”

“Now, do you think you can go back out there and not act like a cheerleader on crack?”