Jace pushed those unkind thoughts away and followed Gavin into his bedroom. He liked the solitude here, and he liked the homey comfort of the trailer. It didn’t try to be anything more than it was. He’d briefly crossed paths with Lucìa last night on his way out. She’d given him a mama-bear hug that promised unconditional acceptance of anything he might be doing with her son. He only hoped for half as much from his own mother when she found out he was gay.
Their time here also gave Jace the opportunity to learn more about Gavin—even though his bedroom offered little insight beyond a penchant for tidiness—and to keep their conversations aimed firmly away from college. This was his sanctuary from school, and he wanted to keep the two things separated at all costs.
Gavin stretched out in the center of the bed, and Jace sat next to him. He reached out and curled his hand around Gavin’s erection, memorizing the feel of him. The way his skin slid over the hardness beneath, the heat and thickness. Gavin wasn’t porn-star huge, but he was large enough that Jace’s insides squirmed at the idea of trying to take him inside his body. He didn’t know when or if he’d ever be ready for that.
He shoved those thoughts away and put his focus back on Gavin, here and now, gazing at him so hotly that Jace wanted to look away and hide. Instead, he held Gavin’s stare while he stroked him, taking in every nuance and muscle twitch, learning what Gavin seemed to like most. Noting the way he made the slightest moan when Jace ran his thumbnail over the head and into his slit. Absorbing the open-mouth huff Jace got when he used his other hand to massage Gavin’s balls. He liked this—getting a chance to touch and learn without the haste of needing to get off fast.
He also liked the sense of power it gave him to hold another person’s pleasure in the palm of his hand. Literally and figuratively. Knowing that his touch affected someone so strongly, that he controlled how and when they got off. So many things had been out of his control lately. He needed this more than he wanted to admit—the control, the pleasure and the closeness to another person who didn’t judge him. He’d seen a lot of things in Gavin’s eyes these last couple of days, but never once had he seen judgment or reproach.
Gavin groaned. “Now you’re being mean.”
Jace’s hand had slowed to a tight, steady stroke, and he slowed a bit more. “Am I?” He leaned over and blew a hot breath over the head of Gavin’s dick, which earned him a harsh, sputtering noise.
“Yeah, you are,” Gavin choked out.
“Something you need, Gav?” The noise he made wasn’t the answer Jace was looking for. “Use your words.”
“Bastard.”
“Is that a kinky thing I don’t know about? Because—”
Gavin surged off the bed, and then Jace was flat on his back, a hot and slick body pressed down on his. Jace didn’t have time to panic or fight back, because Gavin’s tongue was pushing into his mouth in a harsh kiss he felt all the way to his toes. Gavin thrust his hips against Jace’s belly, his trapped erection sliding hot and hard along the crease of his thigh. Jace moved with him instinctively, intrigued by this new thing as their bodies worked together. Gavin came moments later with a shout, his orgasm slicking the friction between them, until he stilled. He settled on top of Jace like a big, breathing blanket, and Jace held him there.
When Gavin lifted his head, the guilt in his eyes made Jace’s stomach flip. “You okay?” Gavin asked.
“Hell, yeah. A little startled, but feeling you go like that was kind of awesome.”
“Yeah?” He studied Jace’s face for a moment, and then kissed him gently on the mouth. “We might need another shower.”
They went into the kitchen and cooked a frozen pizza instead. Jace picked at a slice out of sheer politeness and kept up conversation while Gavin ate his fill of the spicy, cheesy stuff. At some point his attention landed on the framed sketch of Lucìa.
“So what else have you drawn?” he asked.
Gavin chased down a bite of pizza with a swig of Coke. “All kinds of things. I like drawing landscapes and scenes, you know? Real things. I’m not very good at making stuff up in my head and getting it out on the paper.”
“Do you have anything I can see?”
The innocent question led to a digging expedition beneath Gavin’s bed. He produced half a dozen large sketchpads, and they spent several hours going over each half-finished sketch. The progression of Gavin’s talent was obvious in those pages, from unsure lines and foggy images to lifelike renditions of his subjects.
“This is amazing,” Jace said of an almost-finished drawing of Carter’s Lake. It was near the back of the last book and every detail was there, from the dock to the slope of the hill leading down to the sand. The only part unfinished was the sky. Jace didn’t know if the day was sunny or cloudy, or if it was nighttime. Only Gavin knew and he hadn’t drawn it.