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The dumbest conversation that Matt and Jay ever had was about what fish would talk about if they could talk, devolving into a one hour long argument that ended in Matt spraining his ankle.
The runner up was the day they came out to each other. Matt was seventeen years old and less nervous than he’d expected to be about telling Jay, because he’d never had much to say about how Matt dressed and acted up to that point. Matt saw this as a trial run before he told his parents - an imminent conversation which he was actively dreading and would skip if he could endure another year without actually getting started with transitioning, and for his mom to stop trying to set him up with every random girl his age that she thought might be a lesbian. He didn’t want to tell anyone about himself, ever, he owed no one an explanation. But he would tell Jay as a courtesy, and to get the feel of saying out loud.
Jay rolls his eyes when Matt asks him to pause their fifth playthrough of Metal Gear in the basement of Matt’s house. It’s early afternoon and the overgrown branches in the window well cast dappled shadows over the furniture. He’s sitting in front of the couch, his dark hair pushed out of his face and his long legs stretch out in front of him. It’s their last summer before senior year and they’re determined to do as little as possible.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’ve gotta tell you something.”
“Okay?” Jay’s eyes narrow to try and anticipate how serious the situation is.
“So I’m like - a guy. For real.” Matt says, and despite himself feels his face start to turn red. He picks at the shag carpet.
“Yeah.” Jay shrugs. “And…?”
Matt didn’t plan for this. He was expecting a ‘Makes sense,’ or a ‘How does that work?’ at worst. But Jay just seems confused that he’s even bringing it up.
“And-” Matt says. “I’m gonna… go for it. I guess. And I’m telling you that. Because I’ve never said it. Or whatever.”
“Cool,” Jay says, with the small and insecure smile he does when either of them tread into vulnerable waters. “You’re gonna go on T? You should try to get a referral now. Shit takes forever.”
Matt’s confusion deepens. How does he know what that is, enough to bring it up so casually? He only learned about it himself last year. And Jay thought an oncologist was a type of optometrist in an embarrassing conversation about Matt’s aunt last month.
“I’m telling my parents tomorrow.” Matt pushes a hand through is hair. “I think it’ll be fine.”
Jay nods. “I’d say they could talk to my mom, but she’s in one of her weird moods about it lately. She’d probably tell them T makes you stupid.” He laughs without any humor.
“Why the hell would they want to talk to your mom?” Matt asks.
“A support thing, I dunno. They tried to get her to go to a meeting when I was like, ten.”
“For what?” Matt has no clue what Jay could be talking about. This is territory from before they met, before Jay wandered up to that bridge on a fall afternoon. A boy from another school who was going to be his classmate after the new year. He wouldn’t tell Matt why but he assumed it was bullying, because Jay was absurdly easy to bully. He vowed secretly to protect Jay then – or at least bring him into his class clown misfit world where no one would bother them too much.
“MJ.” Jay says, in his You’re acting stupid for no reason voice.
“Bird.”
“Ugh - but I like that we don’t talk about this.” He has a pained smile on his face, staring at the floor. “But if you’re spilling your guts…” He shifts uncomfortably. “Telling her wasn’t that bad. I mean it was - it was kinda bad. She liked when I promised it would fix me.” He laughs. “Jokes on her.”
Matt feels the room tip over despite the fact that he’s sitting still. There’s no fucking way Jay is saying what he thinks he’s saying.
“Don’t fuck with me right now, Jay.”
“What?” Jay cocks his head, and then shock takes him over. “No. You’re fucking with me.”
This goes around and around for awhile. Trading You didn’t know? for You didn’t ask, and half a dozen How stupid are you, for real? At one point Matt asks Jay to take off his pants to prove it, and then they start hitting each other. Apparently Jay went on blockers before he switched schools, and figured that the two of them were drawn to each other because of some unspoken recognition. He was both flattered and irritated that Matt just thought he was some stupid boy that let a “girl” protect him.
“Your mom actually let you do that?” Matt asks.
“Things were - things got really, really bad.” Jay says. “It’s why I don’t talk about it.”
“So you’re not diabetic?” Matt asks. “That’s what I thought the shots were for, on vacation.”
“Obviously not.”
Matt can’t help but feel profoundly betrayed by this entire revelation, even if his own density could be at fault. He’s been ruminating on this for years and Jay was supportive, but still watching, having done laps around him. His own adolescence was spent quietly jealous of Jay’s simple boyishness and now it somehow felt like a game he’d lost. Maybe Jay liked having a headstart, his only recourse against living in Matt’s shadow. There’s an equal chance that he’d let on but Matt just wasn’t paying attention. It wouldn’t be the first time. Matt knows Jay can be intensely private and protective of himself, he thinks back to a couple leading questions Jay would ask Matt about his situation – how Matt rebuffed him with rage and embarrassment because he wasn’t ready. It’s all so fucked up and twisted, but maybe it was just funny, and intensely stupid, in the way only the two of them could manage.
—
Jay likes living with Matt. Despite the danger and absurdity and grating repetition of their day to day lives he doesn’t want to be anywhere else. It was funny when they first moved in together and realized they’d never really had a sleepover, Matt’s parents thinking it inappropriate for a boy and a girl. That didn’t stop them from sneaking out constantly into each others houses, but now it was fine. Just two guys in an apartment.
Matt seems really comfortable in his own skin and it pisses Jay off. He’s always had such a clear picture of what kind of person he is and just settled into this version of himself without much fanfare. Matt doesn’t mind that he dresses like shit, acts like a clown, can’t get girls, and will go swimming in public wearing the only binder he owns and swim trunks. Once he even suggested crossdressing for a Rivoli plan, laughing and saying he wonders if he’s “still got it” as if he had ever, in his entire fucking life, done anything feminine. It’s like transitioning just erased whatever baggage he held onto about his place in the world. It’s infuriating. Jay knows that expecting Matt to take himself seriously is like trying to get a dog to do geometry, but it feels like a mirror to his own self obsession, watching Matt do laps around him and making an idiot of himself.
Most of the time he doesn’t think about this. He’s free to play piano and run around the city, make ill-fated plans and they live in each other’s whiplash inducing gravity with a bizarre peace that Jay isn’t sure he’s allowed to have. The only thing that’s threatening it, at present, is the roughhousing.
He can say with ninety-five percent confidence that Matt came while they were fighting two nights ago. The remaining five percent is what Jay reserves for his own sanity, the one caveat that will allow him to keep playing their game. They were both getting pretty worked up - Jay could see the pink flush extending under the collar of Matt’s shirt, the warmth in his own stomach starting to hit a boiling point as they flipped each other over on the carpet in front of the television. He knows that if either of them were equipped to get raging, obvious hard-ons this game of chicken wouldn’t go this far, something would have tipped in either direction instead of this extended game of them crawling all over each other. That night Matt had him face down with an arm twisted behind his back, straddling his legs as Jay tried to squirm and kick his way out. The back of his thigh pushed up into Matt’s crotch and he heard him choke on his own annoying laugh and buckle forward, trying to hide what happened by smacking Jay on the back of his head repeatedly. If Matt hadn’t been wearing jeans there’d be no question, and Jay has to manually banish the thought of really being able to feel him in that moment.
Jay isn’t gay. He’s a Normal Guy with some outlying circumstances. Any day now he’s going to find all those nice, open minded girls that will fuck like crazy but not in the way that makes him feel like a science experiment. For now he’ll settle for some heavy petting outside of a bar before he chickens out and jerks off at home until one or both of his hands are nearly too stiff to play the piano the next morning.
During the day he’ll remember the night before and think, That almost left the realm of Guy Stuff, and it really has to stop. Inevitably, a couple of nights later he’s taking a pull from a bottle of bottom shelf whatever, seeing Matt and thinking - I’m gonna rip this guys head off.
This is where he’s at now, Jay getting home from a bar with nothing to show for it except for an immolating wet heat between his legs – standing in their kitchen and staring at Matt laid up on the couch. Five years on T had really filled him out, with his broader shoulders and a nice padding of muscle on his arms and legs, the gold dust of hair on his body. His basketball shorts have ridden up, and he can see where the hair gets coarser on his inner thighs. When Matt’s at home and settled in for the night he rarely binds and Jay wildly alternates from being uncomfortable with it, to way too comfortable with it, like with everything else Matt does.
Jay swats at his legs so he makes room on the couch for him to sit, and Matt surprises him by taking the bottle from his hand and having a drink. He doesn’t do this often but it’s always trouble when he does. Thank god Matt’s on the same page as him, Jay thinks, against his better judgement.
“So - you’re skipping the part where you cry and jerk off in your room because you didn’t get pussy?” Matt coughs after his ambitiously large swig of vodka and sets the bottle down on the floor. Jay knows he can’t stand the taste.
“Fuck off.” Jay says, “That’s not what I do.”
“Yeah it is. Poor Jay…” He says, pulling at a lock of Jay’s hair behind his ear. His dark, beady eyes search his face with a mocking pity. Like Jay has come home to him just so Matt can gleefully lick at his wounds.
That’s all it takes for Jay to reach out and push his hand into Matt’s face to shut him up, to get things going. The need for an extended pretense was lost a while ago – it barely existed before. Matt giggles, pushes Jays hand away and kicks at his side, not hard enough to cause any damage but Jay still hisses in pain, he turns to try and get on top of him. He’s braced against Matt’s knees and he’s pulling on the collar of his t-shirt and holding Matt’s arm above his head. Every centimeter of his skin is oversensitive as Matt shoves hard with his legs to get Jay off balance and succeeds, his upper back slamming into the arm of the couch. Matt crawls over him, his face red and eyes wide, tangling their legs up. Jay’s panting like he just ran ten blocks, his heart hums in his ears and echoes all the way down to his dick. The weight of Matt on top of him, the antiseptic smell of vodka on his breath, the shame and rebellion against what he thinks he should be doing fills his body up to the top and overflows, overclocks his mind.
“You think that - you think you’re so mysterious.” He says. “Because you’re some skinny musician type. But I’ve got the read on you, Bird.”
“Sure you do.” Jay grabs a handful of Matt’s hair, he gasps and grits his teeth. He watches his neck move as he swallows, not trying to escape the grasp as Jay shakes his head.
“You’re just some horndog loser.” Matt chuckles, “It’s like fucking clockwork with you.”
Jay tries to struggle out from under Matt, who puts more of his weight on him until they’re completely intertwined. In the inverse of a few days ago, Matt’s knee collides into Jay’s crotch with considerable force and a wave of pleasure and humiliation rips through him like a flash flood. His hips cant upward as if detached from his body and the pressure makes him feel how wet he is, his dick pulsating as a convulsion pulls at the muscles in his abdomen. They’re face to face, unlike before, and Jay hears a low groan escape him as he shivers against Matt’s knee, still holding onto his hair.
Outside they hear the sound of glass bottles clinking together as someone rummages through the recycling. A car with a nasty subwoofer drives by. The two of them pant like animals on the couch.
“Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.” Matt whispers, his body taught and unmoving. “You just -”
“Like you didn’t last time!” He shouts, letting go of Matt’s head and making one attempt to wiggle away before he hisses from grinding on his knee again.
“What? No way…” He licks his lips and laughs nervously, trying to be subtle about lifting himself up from Jay’s thigh.
“You think I couldn’t fucking tell?” Jay says, not letting him escape the pressure and raising his leg to press against his groin, feeling the warmth there. This intentionality will be the real point of no return, as Matt whines – tipping his head forward so his hair falls into his eyes, his face screws up like he’s in pain.
“Fuck you.” Matt says, still staying quiet as if they aren’t the only ones here, slowly pressing his hips further downward as if unsure of how to chase his own release.
Jay takes the opportunity to push Matt entirely off of him, Matt’s surprised betrayal stirs a conflicting mix of joy and shame within him. Jay sits up on the couch and tries to reorient himself. He feels like an RPG character with a heavy handed choice, two glowing arrows pointing to Matt beside him and his room upstairs, respectively. He stands up and starts unbuttoning his jeans.
Matt leans down and picks up the bottle, unscrews the cap with shaking hands and takes a painful looking pull from it.
“Jay…” He says, his throat sounding raw.
“Just accept that you were fucking right, Matt.” He says, kicking off his jeans and undoing the buttons on his shirt. “Read me like a book. I’m a fucking loser and it’s your problem now.”
“It’s always been my problem.” He smiles up at Jay, and it’s almost too much, how sweet it is. He needs this to be more clandestine and frantic than it’s turning out to be. Jay takes the bottle from his hands and feels the burn all the way down as he drinks.
—
Matt’s happy with the fact that Jay only caught one of the times he’s came during their fights. It’s been at least two or three. What the hell does Jay expect? Getting him pinned on the ground – or him pinning Matt down and watching him gasp for air, dark curls falling in front of his forehead and sweat beading onto his collarbones. Anyone with a heart would fold instantly.
Matt strips off his clothes, seeing the dark spot in his underwear from rubbing against Jay’s leg. For a moment they just take each other’s inventory. Matt knows they’re both harboring a curiosity about each other's bodies that can’t be satisfied by anyone else.
Jay stands naked in front of him and he sees the slim line of his body with dark hair curling over his flat chest, down his stomach, his dick peeking out from the crop of pubic hair. Matt remembers the sensation of Jay shuddering beneath him, how his eyes rolled upwards, how his fingers went lax on his scalp.
The tension breaks and Matt pulls him into a sloppy, unpracticed kiss. He knows he’s bad at it but doesn’t care, just wants to lick inside him to feel the warmth of his mouth and taste his tongue. It tastes like the awful vodka he keeps bringing home and the cigarette he probably smoked an hour ago, he moans into him and bites at his lower lip. The skin to skin contact is overbearing and exhilarating. Matt feels his dick twitch almost painfully as his nipples scratch against Jay’s chest hair and fingernails dig into his back.
They fall onto the couch in nearly the same configuration they left it, too lost in new sensation to fight for dominance quite yet. Their legs interlock and the second he feels the slick heat of Jay on his thigh, his orgasm takes hold – nearly shouting in the living room, spasming like he’s being shot down. Jay laughs before Matt presses back into Jay, searching for the right angle to pull the hood back on his dick over and over again, and rock against the throbbing bud. Jay’s thighs tense up and he covers his mouth with his hand to keep from crying out. He knows they’re just getting started and self-consciously, Matt thinks about the first time he played Oblivion, panning the camera at a far-off mountain and realizing he could go there if he wanted – an embarrassment of sidequests and opportunities unfolding before him. He grinds against him for a little bit longer and watches Jay unravel before curiosity gets the better of him and he detaches. Jay pouts when he’s left without stimulation, an image Matt archives for later.
“What do you -” Matt says, “What do you want me to do?”
Jay’s eyes are completely dark and dilated, his mouth slack with his fingertips digging into Matt’s elbow and hip.
“Fuck, why’d you stop to ask such a stupid question?”
“What else can I do? I want - God, I’ll do anything.” He asks.
Jay closes his eyes, chuckling. “Suck my dick?”
“Yes! Yeah, for sure. Okay,” Matt nods.
They untangle from one another and Jay stands, watching Matt with an intensity he’s not used to. He pulls Jay closer to the edge of the couch and Matt’s inches away from him, hands braced on his legs. Close up it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, glistening from his arousal, dark pubes slick against him. Matt buries his face into his stomach as an act of self indulgence, biting hickeys onto the jut of his hips, his inner thigh. He takes in his scent, the taste, every sound that escapes him. Jay can get so stuck up about his body in a way that Matt doesn’t understand — he’s perfect, he drives Matt to the brink of total insanity every day, and he wants to prove it to him.
Jay doesn’t complain outside of sucking air through his teeth, and threads a hand through the hair at the top of his head, trying to guide him in the right direction. Eventually Matt is kind enough to stop teasing and presses his thumb against his cock, pulling up the loose skin so he can run the flat of his tongue against the head. It twitches in response, Jay’s still sensitive from his earlier orgasm and he flinches away at first, before Matt takes him in his mouth and sucks gently. It grows and throbs at the stimulation and Matt feels himself getting wet and hard in response.
“Oh my god - ah - Matt.” He pants, thrusting his hips. “Like that, just like that.”
Matt hums into him, running his hands over the backs of his legs and squeezing at his ass. He tastes like sour sweat and their shared body wash, musky and inviting. He keeps his thumb stroking at the base of his dick while his tongue explores further, reaching the smooth underside leading up to his entrance. Jay groans deep in his throat as Matt edges closer and takes it as his queue to lap at the slick folds of his cunt, his tongue just barely entering Jay and soaking his chin with the wetness of him, his nose buried into the space where his pubes stop and his dick begins. For a moment he stays still and Jay grinds into Matt’s open mouth, the grip in his hair tight. Matt could probably survive on this in lieu of food or water, he thinks, his hips pushing into empty air in search of friction.
“Matt - fuck, please -“
He works on Jay like that for a while then goes back to sucking, sliding his tongue up and down the length of him. Jay’s thrusts get frantic before he chokes on a breathy moan and comes, pulsating against him. Matt’s reluctant to go as Jay pulls him off, his thighs are shaking.
“Jesus Christ.” Jay says with a soft chuckle, his face is red and he blinks a few times. Matt won’t take his hands from Jay’s hips and kisses at his stomach a bit more and then pulls him to sit on the couch. They catch their breath, not willing to be done with each other but unsure how long this sort of thing should last before it becomes real, before they would be held accountable for themselves. Matt wants to be accountable for Jay —he’s been carving out that space in his life for him from day one, but this is brand new and feels profoundly dangerous.
Jay breaks his inner monologue by pushing Matt onto his back, and the sound of their skin peeling off the leather couch is ridiculous. They’re kissing again, unrushed and sloppy with Jay settled between Matt’s legs. His perfect, crooked teeth tease along his jawline and down his neck.
“Can I, uh -” Jay says cautiously, his hand sliding over Matt’s rib cage and just barely touching his chest.
“Yeah.” Matt nods, squishing his cheek into the side of Jay’s head.
Jay sucks a bruise into Matt’s sternum. His stubble is rough against his flushed skin and Matt tries to get some friction on Jay’s stomach as his slim fingers massage at his chest, teasing his nipple until it’s hard and sensitive. The sensation alone is enough to drive him to the brink but another, tender part of him that he tries to ignore most days feels elated to be touched here, like this. He often privately fights with himself about what he feels his body should be to the rest of the world and what he wants from it, if the two can ever be separated. One night of sex isn’t going to make up his mind but he delights in the touch, files away more data for later.
Jay bites down into the warm skin around his areola and Matt hisses through gritted teeth, Jay detaches and licks softly at the mark, satisfied with his work.
“Asshole.” Matt says and flicks Jay’s ear. He flinches, giggles and nips at him again. Matt wonders if they’re ever going to get anything done after tonight.
Matt’s cock is in desperate need of attention after the teasing he’s been put through and Jay seems to intuit this, sliding down to the end of the couch and wasting no time taking Matt into his mouth and sucking him, getting him harder than he’s ever been in his life. He gasps and whines in a voice completely separate from himself, fucking into Jay’s face with no rhythm. His fingers spread him open for better access, pulling back the hood of his dick and licking in small circles under the head. An alarm pings when Jay’s fingers circle his entrance and he starts to close his legs.
“Birdie wait, I - uh.” He pulls at Jay’s hair and he stops, his dark eyes looking up at Matt. The sight of him with swollen lips and a wet chin, up against his engorged cock almost makes him forget what he was about to say. “Not that. I don’t know if I - it’s too much, I think.”
“Okay.” Jay nods, wrapping his arm around Matt’s leg and circling his thumb at the side of Matt’s thigh. “Sorry I just kinda went for it.”
“It’s cool.” Matt says. ”Do you…like that?”
Jay presses his lips on a tight line, looking conflicted. They’ve gone from zero to a hundred tonight and Jay rests his head against Matt’s leg, his hair pressing against his cheek.
“Yeah. I do.” He says while trying to hide a smile. Matt can’t believe how disgustingly beautiful he is right now, it makes him want to crush his head between his legs.
“Noted.” Matt grins. They make eye contact again, and a wave of intimacy crashes down like a tsunami — it’s consuming every part of them, rushing them away to drown. “Now get back to work.”
Jay rolls his eyes but delightfully, does exactly what he’s told. It doesn’t take long to get Matt back to the edge as Jay works on him, humming into his movements and alternating licking and sucking at his cock.
“Fuck - Jay, God, I want to fuck you. You’re perfect - ah - don’t stop, don’t stop.” He’s babbling, overwhelmed by pleasure. “I need you, I’d fuck you stupid. Jay - I’m close, god -”
Matt comes into Jay’s mouth, shaking like a man possessed. Jay lays his head on Matt’s stomach, his breath warm against his sweaty skin. Matt cards his hands through his hair and scratches at the fine hairs on the back of his neck.
“Is that - should we call it?” Matt says. “Two for two?”
“You tired?” Jay says, sitting up, a goading look in his eyes.
“I could do laps around the fucking GTA right now.” He laughs, pulling Jay towards him. Matt can taste himself on Jay’s lips, his face is sticky with it. “I meant what I said, earlier. Could I? If we’re going for another round.”
“What?”
“Fuck you.” Matt says.
Jay seems embarrassed by how easily he says it.
“I mean - that wasn’t just like a heat of the moment thing?” Jay chuckles, his eyes scanning the back of the couch, the gears turning in his head.
“Heat of the moment,” Matt half sings,“Showed in your eyes.”
Jay smacks the top of his head. “Never mind. Shows over.”
“No, no come on!” Matt laughs.
He rubs the back of his hand along Jay’s stomach, he softens to the touch and rests his cheek on Matt’s shoulder. His fingers reach between Jay’s legs and he sighs as Matt lays his palm flat up against his dick, spreading his fingers slightly so he can stroke him. This goes on for a while, playing with Jay idly to warm him up before Matt slides down further to his entrance. Jay scoots up a bit so it’s not such a long reach.
“Jay, I’ve barely done this to myself so I’m gonna need a couple pointers.” Matt says into his hair.
“Uh huh.” Jay says, titling his hips so Matt has easier access and sinking down onto his two fingers.
It’s hot inside of him – slick and soft and pulsating. Jay groans, bearing down slightly and Matt can feel his muscles contracting and relaxing around him. It’s an awkward angle that makes his wrist cramp but he’s going to be strong about it.
“Bend them a little.” Jay gasps when he complies, “Yeah, there. Right there, right there.”
Jay’s doing most of the work, pressing down while Matt pushes up to meet him. He’s really starting to unravel with each thrust, his voice going low and then high every time Matt hits the right spot inside of him, experimentally separating his fingers to feel the stretch. A minute or so passes and Matt notices a furrow in Jay’s brow, that he’s slowing down.
“Matt, I think -” He says, stopping. “Ugh. I need lube.”
“Okay, yeah.” Matt pulls out of him and Jay winces. “I don’t have any, though.”
Jay nods. “Figured as much. I’ll grab mine.”
He stands up off the couch and brushes a hand through his hair, turns to look back at Matt on the couch and really gets an eyeful which makes Matt feel incredibly shy, being under his gaze in such an unfamiliar way.
He leans down and picks up the bottle from it’s place on the coffee table, and takes a small drink.
“Do you uh,” Jay says, picking at the label, a sheepish look on his face that Matt clocks as his I’m about to say something that I think is insane, and I need you to act like it isn’t expression. It’s a rare one, and Matt would probably kill someone if it was wielded in the right direction. “Do you have a dick?”
“I think we’ve established that I definitely don’t.”
“No, dumbass. I mean like…” He offers Matt the bottle, and he takes it. “A strap.”
“Oh! No.” Matt takes a minuscule sip and winces. “You?”
“Yeah.” He says.
“You’re rocking accessories?” Matt says, amazed. “Whoa. Tap me in.”
“I dunno. Kinda weird because it’s like - it’s mine.”
“We’re so far fucking past weird, man.” Matt says, “And it kinda…seems like you want me to?”
Jay bites the inside of his cheek. “I’ll be right back.”
—
Present Jay is going to have to do some serious arbitration with himself in the morning in order to justify a single one of his actions. If he were thinking straight he’d be able to prepare some better arguments, or wouldn’t have gone this far in the first place. Right now, running up the stairs two at a time naked as the day he was born the only case he has prepared is: This fucking rules. That’s not going to hold water for the guy in the morning, for Future Jay who might crumble into ash at the indignity of being fucked by his best friend, sucking his dick, and maybe worst of all - nuzzling his face into Matt’s bare stomach and getting his hair pet nicely.
In the quiet of his room shame does start to resurface. This isn’t the the type of guy he wants to be, not the one he envisions. It feels like a betrayal of his younger self somehow, the one who went through so much to make sure he could see the light of day. He’d promised himself that he’d be a normal guy and that everything would fall into place if he followed that path. Now he’s just giving everything to Matt, again, letting every single part of himself be consumed and twisted up with him.
On the other hand, he had no clue it would be like this. This is the equivalent of a meteor strike, or discovering a new color, or the invention of the electric guitar. Some pieces on the board ought to be moved around to accommodate this new information. This isn’t something you just leave on the table. Fuck Future Jay, literally, he’ll only have to deal with that guy for a couple of hours anyway. And no one else has to know. He was so good at keeping his business to himself that Matt didn’t know what was in his pants until they turned seventeen. Now he really, really knows.
He retrieves his shoebox from under the bed containing the strap on, and in a satisfying, petty move he decides to bring down the slightly smaller dick than the one he would use. The slightly smaller, orange one, that Matt will use on Jay. In their living room. He runs downstairs before he starts overthinking again, but has to go back up when he hits the landing because he forgot the lube.
Matt is pretending to be casual – laying on the couch with his arms above his head, but Jay can see the nervous anticipation in the line of his jaw, the way his fingers are tense against his elbows. He still gives Jay a million watt smile when he sees what he’s holding.
Maneuvering Matt into the buckles and straps is, in the worst case scenario possible, very cute. In their shared buzz and giddy trepidation, Jay accidentally pinches him a couple of times while adjusting, they get turned around once or twice. They figure it out eventually and Jay can’t help but feel a deep, concerning affection for him when Matt gets a little quiet looking down at himself.
“This is pretty cool.” Matt says, gripping it at the base. “This fucking rules, honestly. I hope they gave the inventor a Nobel Peace Prize. I bet this is like, ancient tech though. The third thing they came up with after fire – and the wheel.”
“Here you go, tiger.” Jay says, handing him the lube.
Matt gives him a big-eyed, lost look. “Wait. Whats the - the protocol here?”
“You’d probably want to put it in at some point.” Jay says, getting impatient.
He uncaps the bottle in Matt’s hand and has him spread some on the dick, onto his fingers. He kisses him deeply, clicking their teeth together and sucking on his tongue. Matt groans into his mouth as Jay strokes him, he moves closer so he can grind against it. The sensation of it pushing against his dick, slick and quickly warming up, feeling the girth sends an anticipatory chill up his spine. Matt takes over and they frot against each other until Jay loses his nerve, getting to close to the edge before they even start.
“Couch?” Matt says, breathless.
“Yeah.”
The one thing Jay isn’t going to do is let Matt fuck him missionary. Matt seems uniquely disappointed by this but tries not to let on. Jay bends over the arm of the couch while Matt settles on his knees behind him. He hears the snap of the lube bottle again, Matt gently presses a hand onto Jay’s lower back and teases him open with slippery, slightly too cold fingers. Jay grinds into him so he hits the right spot over and over again – his mind starts to go fuzzy, he feels hot all over. The wet sound of Matt inside him echoes through the apartment. He can hear Matt stroking his dick and Jay is getting ready to beg for it. Matt saves him the trouble.
“You ready?” He asks.
“About fucking time…” Jay says.
The head presses against his entrance and Jay bears down, it slips in without much resistance from the absurd amounts of lube, and how often Jay has done this to himself, alone in his room with his face buried into a pillow.
“Is it okay?” Matt says, running a hand up Jay’s back, acting like he’s popping his cherry in the back of a Honda. He might have to strangle Matt in his sleep after this.
“Hurry up…” Jay whines. “And act like you fucking mean it.”
Matt groans and takes his marching orders in stride, fucking into him with an earnest, clumsy pace. His hands grip around his waist for leverage with enough force to leave a mark. Jay loses control of his voice once he angles himself correctly, combined with the slight stretch inside him, rolling sparks of pleasure alight through his whole body. He knows he sounds like he’s in pain, it’s too good, the wet sound of getting fucked and the front of Matt’s thighs slapping against him.
“Bird - holy shit.” He pants through a soft moan. “You’re so fucking sexy, you’re the - you’re the best guy on earth. You have no fucking clue. If you could see this…fuck. Do you like it?”
It’s stupid but it works on Jay - like nearly everything else Matt does. All he can do is whine in response. Matt accidentally slips out of him, getting a little too eager.
“Shit - sorry.” He laughs. “Maybe I used too much.”
“It’s good, Matt.” Jay says, knowing his voice sounds slurred and fucked out. “Keep going.”
He can almost hear the goofy smile Matt gives him. He pushes back in, this time his hand snakes around to the Jay’s front and teases at his cock. Jay lets out a sob as he’s impaled over and over again and Matt gets him hard stroking the length of his twitching cock, the rocking motion sloshes out any thoughts or feelings that aren’t slick, hot pleasure from his mind. Three or four thrusts later his orgasm slams into him and his cunt spasms so hard it pushes Matt out again as his body convulses totally out of control, spots in his vision floating in his peripheral. Matt rubs a hand over his back, between his shoulder blades and to the nape of his neck.
“Wow.” Matt says.
“Fuck off.”
“I think you’ve got another one in you.” Matt whispers, gripping at the back of his neck. The sheepish gentleness is gone, it seems.
Something evil coils in Jay’s stomach at the sound of his voice. He whines, his body feels completely used up, his arms are getting sore. He’s at the edge of an abyss, where if he gives this to Matt it’s all over. Letting Matt fuck him is one thing but humoring whatever impulse this is in both of them is the real danger that’s been lurking here. He ought to say no, then they take showers one after the other and pass out in their separate beds.
“Fucking greedy…” Jay mumbles into his elbow. “Think you can manage it?”
“I’m the greedy one, now?” He grabs a handful of his hair and pulls him upwards, bracing his other arm around his middle. Jay’s gone limp, ready for whatever Matt decides to do with him. It feels good, just being moved around by him.
He pushes back in and Jay winces, his earlier moans replaced with soft gasps.
“You’ve done something really, really bad to me, man.” Matt says, fucking into him, still without much rhythm. “This is it for me, we’re gonna die of dehydration on this fucking couch tonight.”
Jay’s head lolls back, getting back into the sensation of Matt’s thrusting. Matt is unbelievably sweaty now that they’re pressed together. The hand in his hair lets go and reaches between Jay’s legs and it’s like being shocked with a taser, he’s too sensitive, but the arm around his waist stays firm. He doesn’t tell Matt to stop, he wouldn’t if someone had a gun to his head. He cries out and Matt moans along with him.
“That’s it, you’ve got it. Just one more.” Matt coos, his voice sounding rough. “Gonna fucking - come inside you.”
He’s hard again, rocking into his dick and the fingers working on him. It very nearly hurts, just enough to drive him back to that free fall.
“Please, please - Matt. Fuck, like that. Please.”
He feels Matt’s body go rigid, a choked whine ripping through him as he shudders, shaking Jay in his grip and biting down on his shoulder.
“Did you just - ?” Jay starts to ask, and to his credit, Matt goes right back to his assignment to shut him up. It doesn’t take long before Jay feels the crescendo reach it’s peak and he comes, it’s much less dramatic than the last one. He’s got nothing left in the tank.
For a while they just catch their breath, Matt slips out of Jay as they slump down onto the sticky couch. He turns to look at Matt for the first time in what feels like hours, he looks about as put together as Jay probably does. His hair stuck up at all angles, sweat dripping down his chest and the dick wobbling cartoonishly as he pants.
“We really - ” Matt says. “Should have laid something down on the cushions.”
“Don’t think we had time.” Jay says.
“We took like. Two intermissions. Could have found a blanket.”
Matt feebly tries to scoot out of the harness, but just ends up tightening it and gives up. “So this is never coming off.”
“That’s fine. Turns out it’s all you’re good for.” Jay says, against his better judgement.
“Whatever…” Matt smiles.
Jay really needs to piss, and take two showers, and smoke three or four cigarettes on the roof. Still, he leans over and helps Matt set himself free from the straps. He even lets Matt hug him a little and kiss at his temple even though he’s clammy with sweat and Jay’s done with touching for at least a few hours.
“You wanna smoke on the roof, later?” Matt says, timidly, like he’s never asked Jay to do something with him before.
“Yeah, for sure.” He says, and ruffles Matt’s hair. “Later.”