Archive of Our Own

No! No, this wasn’t right.

He had been distracted for only a few seconds and then he was gone, for the second time that night.

Jack felt disproportionally disappointed. He was fairly certain that he had been flirted with, more so now than he had been at the bar when he had found the stranger’s seat empty and only the wallet forgotten on the bar.

He should have checked for an ID, he berated himself. A name at least. Something to remember him by other than the sad smiley he had drawn into the condensation on the surface of the bar and the self-deprecating smile which had given way to a real one once he had made an effort to listen to what worried him.

He still felt his weight in his arms from when he had picked him up from the ground, worried that he had been badly hurt and then infinitely relieved to find that, beyond a few scrapes and bruises, he seemed alright. He would have liked to check the rest of him, too, but he couldn’t lie to himself about the real reason he wanted to peel him out of his oversized shirt.

Jack turned around himself once in frustration, but then he spotted an identical taxi to the one the man had disappeared in and he frantically waved at it!

As he took a seat and closed the door quickly, he was at a loss as to what to tell the driver.

“Please, there’s a taxi about a minute ahead of us. It’s from the same company. I need to talk to the customer he picked up, it’s something very important,” he was flustered, but he hoped against hope that somehow the taxi company was small enough for them to be able to phone each other.

“I’d have to put out a general call,” the driver said. “We have two hundred cars working tonight as it’s raining.”

Jack pressed himself against the leather seat, closing his eyes in renewed frustration. “Please, just drive. Maybe we can catch up with him?”

The driver went at exactly the speed limit and Jack felt his heart race. It was raining more heavily now than it had only a minute ago. This was probably already too dangerous.

He felt the driver’s eyes on his face through the rearview mirror and he forced himself to relax his expression. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually take taxis,” he apologised. Then he realised he had no idea how much the ride would cost him and how long it would potentially be. He was being incredibly stupid. But he couldn’t not try.

The rain eased a little and Jack hoped that he would be able to catch a glimpse of the tail lights of the other cab, but he couldn’t see it anywhere among the other cars ahead. Just when he was starting to give up hope, traffic slowed down. An accident in the middle of the road forced cars into one single lane to pass the wreck. And then Jack could see a taxi of the same company slowly edging forward, almost at the bottleneck of the accident and Jack knew it was now or never.

“How much is it? Please let me out here!”

The taxi driver sighed and pointed at the metre on the dashboard. 50 Baht. That wasn’t so bad for making a fool of himself. He pushed the money at the driver and then opened the door and jumped out, barely avoiding being hit by another car.

“Shit,” he gasped and then bowed to the driver who was glaring at him angrily. And then he ran along the side of the road towards the accident. He caught up with the cab just when it was passing the wreckage of the two cars and knocked on the window. He couldn’t see who was inside due to the rain and the darkness inside but when the taxi suddenly stopped, causing a concert of horns being angrily pushed behind them, he found he was hopeful once again.

The door opened and then he felt relief wash through him. He had found the right taxi. The man inside looked entirely baffled and Jack slipped into the car, nudging him to make room on the back seat.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised to the driver. “Thank you for stopping.”

“You can see that I already have a passenger.”

“Yes,” Jack grinned. “Yes, I know.”

He stared back at the man who was looking at him with an expression he couldn’t read and felt himself blush. “It was raining,” he tried to explain and knew that this wasn’t the answer to the unasked question.

I couldn’t let you drive away without knowing your name. I couldn’t let you drive away without knowing you are alright. I couldn’t let you drive away because you look at me like I’m someone important and nobody except my grandma does that.

He pressed his lips together and swallowed down the words that threatened to spill from them. And then the man smiled, wincing at the pain he was still clearly in, but the smile was genuine.

“Change of address,” he turned to the driver and then gave him a street name close by. The rain had picked up again when the taxi stopped and let them out. Jack couldn’t quite see how much money the driver was handed, but he could tell from his surprised glance that it was considerably more than he had expected. Jack’s heart leaped. He had left a hefty tip for him, too, at the bar. One that had partly paid for the taxi ride to catch up with him.

He had met someone generous. Someone kind.

If he wasn’t careful, he’d lose his heart to him.

“Come,” he was positively dragged out of the taxi and swallowed at the obvious strength he hadn’t noticed before. At least that answered the question of whether he had been seriously injured or not.

The rain made it difficult to see and they were both drenched after a few seconds, but Jack realised he would happily spend the entire night out here getting rained on if it was with the beautiful man next to him.

He wiped his face when his arm was released and he looked up at a dark house they had stopped in front of. A few seconds later the door opened and they were suddenly inside. The man quickly typed a code into the security pad next to the door, turning off an alarm, and then closed the door.

Jack pulled off his shoes and socks, hyper aware of the fact that they were both leaving puddles on the floor where they stood.

For a second, Jack couldn’t really see anything at all, and he knew that turning on the lights would make everything seem very silly and embarrassing. So, instead, he took the man’s wrist and pulled him further down the hall.

“Where is the bathroom?” he whispered and the chuckle he was met with made his heart leap.

“Upstairs.”

Jack watched as the shadow took off his shoes too and then brushed past him, their hands touching briefly, before turning right and disappearing from sight.

He pressed his knuckles against his lips and followed him, trying very hard not to get too excited. Nothing he had ever done had been as insane and spontaneous as following this stranger on a whim. He shielded his eyes from the sudden bright light that hit him when he climbed up the stairs. The bathroom was full of chrome and glass and looked more like a show room than an actually used bathroom.

A towel hit him square in the face and he had to laugh. “Thanks,” he smiled as he dried his face and then his hair. And then he watched as the stranger pulled his shirt over his head. He did not bother undoing the buttons, but simply pulled it off himself, grunting when his arm got trapped in a sleeve. Jack could see a large bruise forming against his ribs.

“Wait,” he rushed forward, dropped his towel, and helped him out of his shirt. “Does it hurt a lot?” he let his hand hover over the bruise, not quite touching. The sharp intake of breath made him look up and he was met with an expression that left no room for interpretation. He almost took a step back but then didn’t and very slowly moved his hand closer. When he touched his clammy skin, the moan it elicited drove sparks of heat down his spine. The temperature, which had been quite nice and cool, seemed to rise and Jack felt sweat prickle his neck.

“Do you think you’re injured?” he asked, pressing down just a little. He knew what broken ribs felt like due to several injuries during taekwondo he had witnessed, but the gasp that followed did not sound like he was in pain and he did not feel anything give. Quite to the contrary, he felt muscles shift under his hand, as if he was pressing himself just a tiny bit closer against his hand.

And then he noticed another bruise against his hip and slipped his hand down, his thumb caressing his skin. He watched it happen, as if he wasn’t in control of his hands at all but was compelled by some power to touch the man. And he did nothing to stop him, even if Jack was certain that he must have caused him more pain. When his hand slipped down to the waistband of his jeans, he heard himself moan.

Shocked by how loud it sounded in the room, he took a step back, feeling his face burn.

Avoiding the man’s eyes, because he could not quite handle his gentle gaze on him just now, he looked around the bathroom. “There’s a dryer,” he noted, his voice unsteady. He had never had sex and beyond a few kisses and some groping, he had never initiated any intimacy with anyone. And in the back of his mind, he knew that he shouldn’t. The man had drunk more than was good for any one person, and especially not someone who had been heartbroken. Even if he was older and more experienced and not at all averse to his touch, he had been properly drunk. Jack knew he was taking advantage of that.

But he was the most gorgeous man he had ever met and Jack was certain that he was interested in him as well.

“Take your clothes off, then,” the man said, sounding amused, reaching out to tug at Jack’s shirt. “We can dry everything.”

Again, Jack wasn’t sure he was actually the one doing it but his fingers started unbuttoning his shirt, and he watched as the man’s eyes followed his fingers down. Pulling the damp linen off his shoulders felt incredibly freeing but the hungry gaze on his chest and stomach threatened to choke him. He could hear his own harsh breath and he was starting to wonder how long he would be able to tell himself that he was out of breath because of the rain and walking up the stairs.

The man nodded at his trousers and then undid his own jeans. So, this was happening. They were going to strip down to their underwear while being entirely alone in a house Jack had never even looked at in his life.

“Are we alone?” he asked, suddenly wondering if the darkness in the house wasn’t just due to the late hour. Perhaps the rest of the family was asleep right next door. Those who weren’t part of the alternative universe the man had created for himself, which now included Jack, too.

He could have sworn that the answer sounded just as breathless as his question. “Yeah, there’s nobody else around.”

Jack nodded and opened his trousers, wanting to look but not quite daring to, he stepped out of them. He took his keys, phone and wallet and put them on the small shelf above the sink. Then he remembered his socks which he had left on top of his shoes and he considered getting them, too, but then he would have to go downstairs again. He straightened, realising that his excitement was now visible to the other man.

Not quite knowing what else to do, Jack walked past him to the dryer and opened the door, stuffing his clothes inside. He’d have to wash them anyway when he got home, but at least he’d have dry clothes to get there.

“How long does it take?” Jack could feel his beath against his shoulder he stood so close and he felt his stomach clench at the though. He would just have to reach behind him to touch him. To see whether he, too, was as affected as he was.

“At work it takes 45 minutes,” he swallowed down his nerves. “That’s for towels and table cloth, though. I think we should choose a gentler setting so it might take longer.”

He stopped breathing when the man’s hand came to rest on his shoulder as he bent over to put his own clothes into the dryer. He grunted again when he did, wincing, and then groaning when the wince seemed to renew the pain of the wounds in his face.

“Are you alright?” Jack asked, turning to face him and realising with a heavily beating heart that the other man was entirely naked now. He fixed his eyes on a point behind his head, trying very hard not to sneak a glimpse down. Despite everything, they hadn’t even kissed yet and that felt like a necessary first step. Then he shook his head at himself and stripped out of his underwear, too. By now it was obvious that he was aroused and the thought of sporting a hard on in wet underwear did not seem appealing at all, so he stuffed them into the dryer too and then he stood with his back to the room, trying to somehow figure out where to go from here.

“Take it,” the abandoned towel was pressed into his hand and when he turned around, he just caught sight of a set of long, muscular legs, an arse that made his mouth water and a broad back. He understood now how he had easily dragged him out of the cab, despite his injuries.

“Wait, where are you going?” Jack called after him but then he made sure to start the dryer and wrapped the towel around his hips. His socks would just have to remain wet then.

Thankfully, there was a light on in a room down the hall from the bathroom and he followed it. He gasped when he found the man sitting on the bed, leaning back a little with one arm propping him up, absent mindedly rubbing a towel through his hair, still naked otherwise. He was probably in pain sitting down straight and had found a position that was comfortable for him. Jack stopped and stared, unable to look away now, but also very aware of the many cuts and bruises the man had sustained.

The cut Carbon had given Jack had opened again earlier, but he was no longer bleeding from it. Clearly, he had gotten out of this a whole lot less hurt. He gingerly touched his temple. He’d be fine.

“Thank you for saving me,” the man said, his voice soft and warm like honey.

Jack felt a rush of affection. “Do you always just run head-first into trouble?” he asked and sat down on the edge of the bed next to him. And then, not because he wanted to but because he couldn’t keep himself from doing it, he brushed wet hair out of the man’s sweaty forehead and pressed a small kiss against his shoulder.

In answer, the man dropped the towel and sat up straight, and his hand settled on Jack’s thigh.

“Are you sure?”

“No,” he huffed. “And you’re drunk.”

“I think having a near death experience sobered me up a little.”

“You had a lot to drink.”

“I had a lot to forget.”

Jack huffed. “I’ve never slept with anyone before.”

“Oh,” a breath, nothing more.

“I want to, with you.”

When gooseflesh broke out on the stranger’s skin, Jack felt elated. He put his hand on top of the hand on his thigh and pushed it up a little, gasping when he realised how good it felt.

“Never?”

“No.”

For a moment, they looked at each other, and Jack was certain that they felt the same way.

“Please,” he said, leaning down to kiss his shoulder again, not quite daring to go for his lips or to move down to his chest or neck, all of which were incredibly inviting, but his shoulder seemed safer. When a hand slipped into his hair and pulled him closer, he closed his eyes and continued, playfully biting him when the urge overcame him.

“Fuck,” the moaned curse drove sparks down his back and set fire in his belly and suddenly, without making the conscious decision to, he climbed into his lap, his lips attached to his neck, his hands roaming up and down his back, delirious with the feeling of being allowed to touch someone like this. And then he realised that he wasn’t the only one who was hard and he pushed forward, no longer thinking at all, and merely feeling, and when he rocked up against him only to settle back down a second later, he realised that yes, he absolutely wanted this.

At no point during the evening had he believed he’d feel anything but depressed and disappointed, and then he had been taken out of his own head repeatedly by this incredible man who was currently squeezing his arse with both hands and moaning shamelessly against his collar bone.

And he had saved him, really. Not just from his immediate anger and disappointment in his coach and in the fellow fighter he had come to despise so comprehensively he wasn’t sure how to reconcile the feeling with his own character, but when he had entered the fight in the back street and choked the man who had attacked his … well. Him.

He had stopped him. He wasn’t sure whether he would have kept going but he had been so angry that anyone dared to hurt someone who was already so hurt, he had been beside himself.

“Lie down, I need to check something,” Jack was ripped out of his musings and instinctively moved back, first thinking he had been rejected, still expecting it, somehow, but then he understood what he had been told and climbed onto the bed, marvelling at the feel of the mattress and the expensive sheets. He allowed himself to fantasise what being in a relationship with someone who lived in a house like this would be like. The pure luxury of everything.

But then he noticed his imaginary boyfriend randomly opening drawers and cabinets on the far side of the room, clearly looking for something in the slightly exasperated way someone searches for a glass in an unfamiliar kitchen, and his heart sank.

“What are you looking for?”

“Condoms.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry, I’m not … I haven’t been here in a while.”

Jack sank back on the bed and closed his eyes. “Do you do this a lot?”

“Hmm?”

“Take lovers here?”

The disbelieving laugh irritated him. Was he surprised he had only just now realised? Jack felt stupid.

“No. Never.”

Wait. What?

“I never took anyone here before. Ah,” he triumphantly held up an unopened box of condoms. “I knew it!”

“Knew what?”

“Never mind. I just need to find …” he kept rummaging in the same drawer and finally flicked a tube at Jack. “Found it.”

Jack sat up again, watching the stranger as he seemed to brim with pent up energy. Any trace of his slightly delayed reactions from earlier were gone. Maybe he had been right when he had said the fight had sobered him up. But perhaps his current state was also responsible. The excitement. The arousal.

When he turned around again, Jack saw that he was still hard. It suddenly dawned on him that he was going to have sex with someone whose name he did not even know. But asking now would be weird, wouldn’t it? Asking him now that he had seen him naked. Kissed his skin, even, and longed to kiss a lot more of him.

Not his lips, though. He hadn’t dared to either. Perhaps for the same reason. Kissing him would make this fever dream real.

“Are you … okay?” he was tipped back by a strong, small hand on his chest, and he knew he would remember that touch. When the hand moved up and along his collarbone and then settled against his neck, he moaned, finding it impossible to stay quiet. The smile he earned in return only served to take his breath away once again.

Jack nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay. Are you?”

He felt the nod against his chin as soft lips started kissing along his throat and then down and he knew he should be worried about the bruises when he clutched his back, but he was overwhelmed with how good it felt to be kissed like this and the other man did not seem to mind much.

And then he reached his chest and squeezed and Jack arched up into his touch, suddenly entirely ready to do anything the stranger wanted. Well, after this, he would no longer be able to think of him as a stranger, would he?

The yelp that escaped him when he felt the twin pleasure of teeth and a hungry tongue against his left nipple made him press his hands across his mouth. “Oh fuck,” he moaned against his palm. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!”

When he looked down, he saw that he was being watched and he felt his ears burn. Never in his life would he have imagined his first time to be anything like this. And then a hand settled on his erection and all thoughts vanished. All he could do was react now, his hands useless by his sides, completely at the mercy of a man who seemed to know exactly what he liked.

Jack squeezed his eyes closed and tried to keep his breathing even. When he felt lips wrap around his erection, he almost came.

“Fuck!” he pushed his hands into the stranger’s hair and pressed his head down and away, unable to stand the pleasure he felt.

“Did I hurt you?”

Jack propped himself up on his elbows, shaking his head, unable to speak.

“Oh,” an amused expression crossed the stranger’s face when he looked at his erection. “I see.”

A thick thread of precome hung between the head of his erection and his belly. Jack was desperate to be touched again but he knew he wouldn’t last and in all of this, the thought that it would be over so soon made his stomach clench in an echo of grief. If he would only get this, he wanted it to last for as long as possible.

“Please,” he whispered. “Make love to me.”

He wasn’t sure why he said it, and why he chose those words in particular, but once he had spoken them, they felt exactly right.

“Turn around. I need you on your knees.”

Jack felt a thrill at the order and he stroked himself just once, needing friction and some sense of control over his own physical reactions. When he hesitated a moment too long he was physically rolled over with an impatient growl, and he could tell that, if he had stood up, his knees would have grown weak at it. His body that was so used to fighting was absolutely helpless in the face of being touched like this.

He finally pushed himself up on all fours, arching his back as he turned his head to be able to see better. The smile he was met with made his heart ache.

Jack thought of the few times he had touched himself in the shower. He had felt ridiculous and never quite dared to do what he had seen on porn websites he sometimes opened late at night when he couldn’t sleep from the heat or his worries.

He watched with bated breath as the man sat back on his heels and dribbled lube across his fingers before he carefully spread them out between his buttocks. Jack reached for his abandoned towel and draped it across the bed underneath himself, just in case he wouldn’t manage to last. He earned a kiss against the small of his back for it.

Jack knew that the reason for all of this was because he had admitted to it being his first time, so the stranger took his time getting him ready, but more than once he wanted to tell him to just get to it. But he held his tongue and instead tried to relax, even if the experience of having someone else’s fingers inside of him took his breath away and made his brain malfunction a little. Instead of it feeling strange, all he could think was that he would crave this feeling for the rest of his life. But it wasn’t just this. It was also the other hand that caressed him while he was stretched open and the whispered endearments which he couldn’t quite make out but which felt settle on his heart like tiny water droplets from a fountain when the winds picked up.

Nothing could have prepared him for the gentle administrations he experienced then and the love he felt, even if he knew, rationally, that his wasn’t how these things worked. But this wasn’t reality, was it? This was a stolen moment of joy in which he had completely abandoned his principles.

And then a jolt of pleasure rocked through him. “Oh fuck!” he dropped down onto the mattress as his arms gave out. And suddenly he understood. There was more to this than mere friction.

“Ah, there it is!” The smug exclamation was followed by another kiss against his skin.

“Please,” he threw his head back, wanting to feel those lips on his neck again.

“Oh, needy,” the smirk made Jack want to reach out and throw him down on the bed and kiss him until he could no longer formulate thoughts, but he knew that this would mean an end to the pleasure of three fingers slowly fucking into him and he decided that was indeed needy and wouldn’t be ashamed of it.

“Turn around. I want to see your face,” the man pulled out and Jack instantly regretted his earlier choice. Maybe pushing him down on the bed would have been the better idea after all.

“Are you going to make me beg?”

Jack turned around in surprise. In all of this, he had somehow missed all the signs that he wasn’t the only one who was helplessly turned on. But paying attention now, he realised that the man who was about to make love to him was breathing heavily, his chest and cheeks flushed, his hair a mess, with a smear of blood running from the corner of his mouth to his ear where he must have wiped his lips.

Jack wanted to apologise, but he knew that would be ridiculous. Instead, he did what he had been told and lay down on his back, not quite knowing what else might be expected of him. “What do I do?”

Gentle hands ran featherlight down the inside of his thighs and he gasped, unfamiliar with the sensation. He hadn’t even known he would be so sensitive there. Then his legs were pushed apart and he obliged happily, watching as both hands disappeared from his sight and, suddenly, he found himself pulled forward, closer to the man who looked at him now with an expression that, if Jack hadn’t known better, made him look like he was in love with him.

“Here,” the man took his legs and guided them around his own hips before he opened the condom wrapper with his teeth, pulled the condom out, discarded the wrapper and rolled it on himself. Jack was certain he had seen precisely this in one of the clips he had watched and had found it pretentious, but seeing it happen when he was about to be fucked made it seem like the sexiest thing in the world. Then he picked up the lube, squeezed out some more directly between Jack’s buttocks, making him chuckle at the sensation, and then spread out some more on his erection.

“Try to keep breathing,” he was instructed and he instinctively stopped. Jack was almost certain that he would be kissed any second now. His reaction seemed to both amuse and exasperate the stranger and when he leaned over him, one lube wet hand on his chest, Jack licked his lips in anticipation.

Instead, his chest was covered in kisses again and he arched up once again, needing to feel everything as intensely as he could. He fought the urge to bury his hands in the stranger’s hair and pull him up into a kiss, trying to justify his reluctance with the blood he had seen, but he knew he was lying to himself because clearly, he had absolutely no trouble kissing his chest, but he blocked out the real reason for his hesitation. There would be time for regret after. Not now.

When the kisses stopped, he did reach out to push his hand into his hair. He made sure only to touch the right side of his head that didn’t have any cuts and bruises. He had no real idea why, beyond the notion that he wanted to know what it felt like. When the man leaned into his touch and closed his eyes, his lips stretched into a sweet, tired smile, Jack realised that he would not recover from this. It was already too late for him.

“Do it,” he rasped, needing something to happen to pull himself back from where he was going. “Don’t be too careful.”

His words had an immediate effect and he suddenly felt his legs pressed forward and pressure against his anus where even three fingers hadn’t felt quite as intense. With a grunt, the stranger pushed deeper into him, his fingers tightening on his thighs, sweat beading on his forehead.

“Fuck!” he gasped and bit Jack’s calf, making him yelp in surprise. It hadn’t hurt so much as it had been such an unexpected sensation that the pressure of the hard cock that was pressing into him was momentarily forgotten and he gasped for air. And then he understood why he had been told to breathe. It took him a minute to calm down again but when he did, he finally felt himself relax against the pressure and everything became a little easier. And then he had to laugh, because wasn’t this the very basis of his taekwondo training? To breathe and to centre himself so he would be in control of his body?

“I’m sorry,” he apologised, only now realising how hard the man above him was biting his lips, his brows knitted in concentration. “I needed a minute.”

The breathless, high pitched “hmhmm” that came in answer made his cock jump and he pressed his head back against the mattress, feeling suddenly overwhelmed.

“Please move,” he reached out for the man’s shoulder and squeezed, hoping that he wasn’t causing him any pain.

And then he did and all Jack could do was hold on for dear life. He knew, rationally, that sex was supposed to feel good, but he also knew that with anyone else, it wouldn’t have felt this intense. Watching the gorgeous, battered body above him, the blood-stained, blissed out smile, and hearing the small moans of pleasure that grew increasingly louder every few thrusts, he lost himself in the fantasy of it all again.

After a few minutes, he wrapped his legs around the man’s hips again, enjoying that he could feel the movement of him from all sides now. He wasn’t in charge, but it somehow felt as if he was able to dictate the pace and it heightened his arousal immensely.

When a hand wrapped around his cock and started stroking him in time with the thrusts, he could no longer feign any sort of control. Writhing underneath the man who seemed to know exactly what he was doing, he gave himself entirely over to the pleasure of it all.

And then he felt him come. He pressed into him hard, pushing him a few inches up the bed, and then jerked a few times, his whole body tensing, his hand around Jack’s cock stopping and simply squeezing now, and his moans seemed to echo through the entire house. When he started to move his hand on Jack’s cock again, Jack came, too, arching up under him, his toes curling and one hand on the man’s back and one hand still on his shoulder, his fingernails digging into his skin.

No wank in his life had come even remotely close to this orgasm. He knew what it was to feel pleasure, but this was something entirely else.

“Oh fuck,” the man collapsed on his chest and he instinctively wrapped his arms around him, his legs falling open and slipping off him. All of the sudden, he was bone deep tired.

Jack tried to catch his breath but even that seemed too much of an effort, so instead he just lay there, the weight on him comforting somehow, as if he was still safe from having to face the consequences of all this – whatever those might be.

He felt gentle lips mouthing at his neck again and he shuddered, running his hands up and down the broad back, but gently, remembering the bruises again. “I’m sorry if I hurt you,” he whispered into his hair.

The giggle his words caused reverberated in his ribs. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get over this.

“Not hurt then?”

“Oh,” he pressed himself up, brushing Jack’s lips very lightly with his own as he did, immediately making him wish he had kissed him properly. “I’m in plenty of pain. But this was worth it.”

Jack huffed. And then he saw that his thumb had left a lingering indentation on his left shoulder. He pushed him off him and Jack was surprised when he let himself be handled without resistance. Jack inhaled deeply, wondering briefly whether he’d be up for another round, but being the one calling the shots this time around. Yet, he knew that he was barely capable of forming coherent thoughts even now when adrenaline was still coursing through his system, and that he would probably fall asleep in the middle of it and the thought made his cheeks flush in embarrassment.

The man pulled the condom off and tied it and was about to drop it off the bed when Jack stopped him. “This isn’t your bedroom, is it?”

“No,” a sigh.

“Not your house?”

“No.”

“Can I ask …?”

“Nobody important.”

“We’d have to clean it up, thought,” Jack considered. “So don’t just drop it on the floor.”

“I don’t want to get up yet.”

Jack held out his hand with a raised eyebrow and, with a sweet, tired smile, was promptly handed the condom. Chuckling, he put it next to him on the towel and then turned back to look at him, propping himself up on his arm. Looking down on the man who had just rocked his world, he couldn’t quite believe his luck. How many people got to have an experience like this?

He carefully traced the mark he had left on his shoulder before he leaned down and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to it. Then he blew on the wet patch against his skin, smiling when he saw goose flesh rising as a result. He dropped down on the bed next to the man whose name he still hadn’t dared to ask. Well, maybe, just maybe, they’d do things in reverse. Sex first and then they’d actually get to know each other on a second date?

He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, safe in the knowledge that it would still be a while until the dryer was done.

Jack woke up when the mattress dipped next to him. It took him a moment to remember where he was and why his body was sore in unexpected places and why his stomach felt a little funny, but when he pushed himself up, he found his clothes on the bed next to him. The towel and the condom were gone, even though he couldn’t remember being moved or having it pulled out from underneath him. The beautiful stranger stood in the door, fully dressed already.

“I have to go,” he said. “The alarm will turn itself on again in ten minutes. Make sure to close the door properly behind you.”

Jack watched him disappear and, for a moment, he wondered whether he had only imagined him. But then the words sunk in and he scrambled to put on his clothes. He tried to smooth the sheets over the bed but knew it would be obvious that someone had lain in it, so instead he made sure that they had left nothing either in the bedroom or the bathroom before he went downstairs. Unable to help himself, he glanced into the living room, using his phone to shine some light to see what kind of place he had just lost his virginity in. When his eyes fell on the photo of a well-known politician, his heart started racing. But when he got closer, he saw that what he had expected to be his wife, was in fact another man. The picture did leave no doubt about the fact that they were a couple, as they were pressed together, their hands tightly clasped.

Jack backed out of the room and then picked up his damp socks and shoes and took them outside before pulling the door closed behind him. He was glad now that he had wiped down all the door knobs with a tissue, initially just because he did not want to leave any more traces than necessary, but now because he realised that they probably had had no business being in that house in the first place.

He put on his socks and shoes, pulling a face at the discomfort of it, and then then opened his phone’s browser, typing the politician’s name into the search bar. He gasped when he started seeing the top results of his search. Apparently, the politician was an outspoken anti-gay politician who had authored several homophobic bills.

Jack stared back at the house, and then jogged away, realising the magnitude of what they had just done. And then he started laughing, because clearly, the man had known this about the politician. When he had claimed that it was nobody important, Jack hadn’t realised that he had been sarcastic. But now it was clear. Somehow, he must have been related to the politician, considering he had the code to his alarm system, and he had known about the lube and condoms in the bedroom, too. Jack knew he should probably be a little offended by the fact that he had been fucked in someone’s house out of spite, at least to some extent, but all he could think was how quickly the stranger had decided to direct the taxi to a place nearby, which had just happened to be this house. And, all things considered, he probably wouldn’t have wanted to take him home to his parents, and Jack wasn’t sad about that either. If he had, they would not have been able to sleep with each other, he was certain.

Jack checked his phone for the nearest main road and then started making his way home, feeling the evening’s activities in his muscles, his face aching, too, with a smile that just wouldn’t disappear again. He might not have managed to get the stranger’s name, but he was grateful for the experience nevertheless. As he entered his neighbourhood, he used his fingers to brush his hair into place so Ama wouldn’t be too worried about him in case she was still up. Wincing when he brushed the cut on his temple, he nevertheless felt like he had gotten off surprisingly well in the fight. And none of the pain was significant when compared to how good he felt about saving the stranger. How satisfying it was to recall his smile that had come so easily after their conversation at the bar. How he was certain that he would forever be able to think back on this night with real fondness instead of suppressed anger.

And he had a stranger to thank for that who barged into his life without warning and who had left the biggest impression imaginable.