You Complete Me - 22. Chapter 22 - I Wish I Could Forget

Though Jake had rambled about the dangers of driving with a possibly failing radiator the entire walk to the abandoned wing, he chose correctly in the end. Nic had been worried for a moment, but he was glad he did, even though the issue wasn’t completely dropped until Jake’s cock was in Nic’s mouth. Most of what he said after that weren’t really words at all, which Nic preferred anyway.

Once the door was safely shut, they moved quickly and wordlessly; in seconds, Jake was shirtless, his jeans pulled down to his knees, and Nic was naked with his face in Jake’s crotch. It was matter-of-fact, but it didn’t feel like Nic was doing a chore or going through the motions. How many times had they’d done this already? It felt innumerable and not enough at the same time. And this time was different.

If Nic was being honest with himself, every time was different. Not just the sex, but every time he encountered Jake, he wasn’t sure what to expect or where they stood. He didn’t like it. Always anticipating the worse out of everyone and in every scenario had protected him in some ways, but since the worst hadn’t happened yet, he felt anxious. Yet…he kept coming back for more.

Nic flinched as he felt a few fingers, cold with lube, probing at him from the other end. He withdrew to speak. “Warn me before you do that.”

“Sorry,” Jake muttered, pulling away.

“I didn’t say stop.” Nic had quickly learned that Jake’s big hands were more efficient at stretching him out than his could ever be, and, for a previously straight guy, he was very okay with it.

He felt, rather than heard, a chuckle from Jake as he returned to what he was doing, and Nic did the same. He started going into that zen state he often went into when sucking cock – the same place he went while doing menial tasks like washing dishes or folding laundry, except this was more fun. He wanted his mind to be blank, but all he could think about was how much he missed this. Not Jake himself – of course not – but what he represented: a routine escape from a reality where he hadn’t seen his mother in days and was trying to pretend it didn’t scare the shit out of him for Joey’s sake.

At least, Jake would have been an escape if he didn’t stop talking. “I wonder why they haven’t called me into the office yet,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

Nic would have loved to tell him to shut up, but all that came out was a muffled “Hm,” as a fingertip caressed a spot that made his eyes roll back behind his closed lids. Jake seemed to interpret that as a real response, though.

“I know, I shouldn’t worry about it. Not right now, at least.”

Nic didn’t attempt to speak again, didn’t need to, and couldn’t even if he wanted to. As if he had suddenly realized where he was and what he was doing, Jake’s fingers began to move with purpose, producing such a dizzying sensation within Nic that he briefly saw stars. Just as Nic felt moisture on his thigh from his own arousal, Jake started to slow down again. For someone that seemed lost in his own head most of the time, Jake was remarkably good at picking up on cues during sex.

Nic felt the same hand caressing his back, not thinking anything of it until it made contact with his hair. He jumped again, but for a different reason this time – the sensation touched on a memory he didn’t like. Even worse, the “What?” he asked Jake didn’t come out with force he wanted. It was quiet, subdued even, and he hated that his voice could ever sound like that.

Jake didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong. If anything, Nic’s lack of fire put him more at ease, because he chuckled a little. “I’m going to come if you keep doing that. You ready for me?”

Nic sat back on his knees, still a bit dazed.

“You alright?”

The tension in Nic’s stomach wasn’t fear, but maybe a precursor to it. He wasn’t sure where it was coming from, but if he didn’t get control of it soon things would get bad. When he looked into Jake’s concerned eyes, though, the feeling subsided enough that he remembered where he was and what he wanted. “Yeah,” he said, stronger now. “I’m getting on top.”

Control, that usually helped. Jake hesitated, but he didn’t argue; he reached out for his backpack nearby to use as a makeshift pillow. Lying flat, he threw his hands behind his head for added leisure and grinned cockily at Nic, showing off his dimples. “Been waiting all week for this.”

That contagious smile of his actually worked this time. Nic scoffed quietly at him, continuing to feel better. He straddled Jake’s knees and pulled his jeans a few inches out of the splash zone. He palmed Jake’s wet cock, admiring the girth as its owner shifted a bit underneath him. Then he just…took everything in. Nic used his other hand to explore the rest of Jake’s torso, sharing the heat of his skin, tracing the ridges and valleys of his stomach, well-defined even at rest. He had an outie belly button. How had he never noticed that before? The details were extraneous, but they served a purpose, at least for Nic. It helped chase away the dark thoughts for now, back to wherever they came from.

Jake, oblivious, was impatient, though. “You’re killing me here, Nic.”

That meant Nic was exactly where he wanted to be: in control. He found the packet of lube and squeezed what was left onto the tip of Jake’s cock. Without any further hesitation, he held it up and sat down on it.

Taking a week off hadn’t done Nic any favors, but after a moment of discomfort…it felt like home. Nic rocked into place, sinking further onto what he now realized was his new favorite toy – one that he had missed, moved with him, and had hands that gripped his thighs just enough to sting in the right way. The deep sigh that came out of Jake was all-encompassing: satisfaction, ecstasy, relief. Splaying his hands across Jake’s chest, Nic lowered himself until their stomachs were almost touching, his own cock sandwiched between them for some much-needed friction. That brought him almost face-to-face with Jake, which was when he made the mistake of looking at his face for the first time since they’d connected.

Nic was used to sex being a discreet, almost shameful act with Jake and guys like him, where there wasn’t a lot of communication and even less eye contact. Nic thought he preferred it that way. But when their eyes incidentally met this time, Nic was almost startled by the intensity between them. Jake’s eyes were so dilated they were almost black with arousal, so fixed that he didn’t avert them as he usually would. Far from unsettling him, the earnestness of it had a strange effect on Nic: he felt very exposed by it, felt muscles that he didn’t even realize were tense relax, and his cock – which had softened some when he had first impaled himself – spring back up to attention. It was doing things for him. Wonderful things.

So gradually that Nic hadn’t even noticed it, Jake was in control, and he didn’t even mind. Not for the first time, Nic realized that Jake had been holding back by letting him set the pace, but he was amping it up now. His grip around Nic had tightened so that he was held in place as Jake thrust into him from below with increasing force. The line between pain and pleasure was very fine, just as it was between fear and trust. When Nic just held onto Jake’s shoulders, pressed their foreheads together, and closed his eyes so tightly he saw stars, he knew which side he was on.

Suddenly, Jake’s entire body tightened and he cried out, flooding Nic with a startling warmth. He hadn’t barebacked in so long, he’d forgotten what that sensation was like. It wasn’t terribly early – Nic wasn’t too far from finishing himself, but as Jake’s grip loosened and he slowed down to a lazier pace, he got worried. Their lips so close he was inhaling Jake’s gasps, he growled, “Don’t you dare stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, babe.”

Babe?

Nic just shook his head, forgiving it for now. He shifted his weight back onto his knees, wanting to take advantage of whatever stamina Jake had left. A man of his word, Jake managed to stay hard, but he was clearly spent. His hips had stilled, but he still offered some manual assistance as Nic finished the job. Between fucking Jake’s hand while still bouncing on his dick, Nic followed up Jake’s orgasm with a monstrous one of his own, one that painted Jake’s stomach and turned Nic’s limbs into jelly. So much so, he collapsed face first into Jake’s chest, eliciting a grunt from him.

“Shit, sorry,” he gasped, though he made no effort to move.

The mountain beneath him was shaking with laughter. “It’s fine, I’ve got you.” Arms wrapped loosely around him, and Nic was too tired to protest. Jake was breathing hard, too, the rising of his chest in sync with Nic, so that their sticky skin became one. It was getting far too warm, but it also felt too nice to move. Then, quietly: "You look so beautiful when you come."

Nic’s eyes snapped open, and, with great effort, he dragged himself up to gaze down at Jake. That word again, even harder to believe in person. That time Jake had used it over text, Nic had stared at his phone for many minutes, unsure of how to respond or feel about. No one had ever called him beautiful before – not even Arnie, who preferred terms like hot or sexy. To everyone else he’d ever slept with, Nic was a pretty cock-whore, fuckable, jailbait, a good time, or, most commonly – trouble. Never beautiful.

A part of him wanted to make a joke out of it and embarrass Jake. That was always fun. However, judging by the way Jake was defiantly staring back at him, he wasn’t going to take it back. Another part of Nic felt a strange urge to swoon like a damsel in a bad romance novel. But most overwhelmingly, he wanted to –

Later, Nic wouldn’t remember if he lowered his head first or Jake lifted his. Regardless, the end result was the same: their lips crashed into each other in a kiss that was less clumsy and frantic than the night of the rugby game, but every bit as passionate. It wasn’t a bid for dominance or another seductive power play between them, but it wasn’t just a kiss, either. It was Nic that slipped his tongue between Jake’s lips to make it more, and he responded eagerly, pulling him deeper into the embrace. In that moment, it was just the two of them, no one else, and Nic could allow himself to just…forget.

In those few moments that they were joined in a way that wasn’t purely sexual, Nic could forget that Jake was in the closet. He forgot what Jake represented to Luke: another person that he was convinced would become a victim of Nic’s complete inability to trust or connect with anyone. Hell, he even forgot the exact reason why that was. Entertaining any of those alternate realities was a moment that he wished could last for eternity.

However, like all good moments, it was brief.

In this case, that tight ball of anxiety that had been lingering in his periphery for a few weeks now decided to return with a vengeance. Jake had started to roll them over so they were side by side, still kissing him, and that’s when Nic realized he forgot more than just the multitude of reasons why he couldn’t be happy. He forgot that he wasn’t safe, he was powerless, and Jake was no longer Jake, but a shapeless mass of muscle that could take whatever he wanted. It was ridiculous, of course, but panic didn’t listen to reason. It was far too hot, Jake closeness suddenly became stifling, and the room was way too small.

It took great effort to keep himself from flailing wildly, which came out in the form of shakes. That wasn’t good. Realizing that his body was no longer listening to him, Nic opened his eyes and silently willed his trembling hand to still, but none of his coping mechanisms were working. In a cruel cycle, that only made him panic more, and the shakes started to spread, to the point that Jake noticed and drew back a little.

“Nic? You alright?”

Nic closed his eyes again and bit his lip hard enough to taste blood, relying on pain as a last resort. No such luck. He moved his hands between them and started to push away. “Um…g-give me a minute. P-please.” He sounded subdued again, and it disgusted him. He sounded like the scared, useless faggot that deserved the things that happened to him, just like Amos said.

He pulled away from Jake’s unresisting embrace and scrambled as far away as he could get, until his back was to the nearest wall and he was hugging his knees to his chest. He wasn’t hyperventilating yet, but he was getting there – it was getting harder and harder to breathe and the shaking had grown so violent it hurt. His heart was pounding. Nic tried to take deep breaths, ride it out, and repeat a mantra in his head: You’re okay. You’re safe. You’re not dying.

Nic could hear movement around him and it was breaking his concentration. Probably Jake getting the fuck out of here before Nic started screaming. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. It could have been minutes, or even hours, but eventually his heart calmed and the weight on his chest lessened. Nic’s shaking went from constant to staggered. Maybe even rhythmic, like his car engine. At that thought, he coughed out a small, hysterical sound that was barely recognizable as a laugh.

“Feel better?”

Ironically, the voice startled him out of the rest of the panic attack. Nic’s attention snapped next to his left, where Jake had set up camp a few feet away. He was fully dressed now – how long had Nic been panicking? – and he was curled up against the wall in a similar position as Nic. His seemed concerned, but he didn’t look surprised or disturbed by what had just happened. Why was he still here?

Nic felt his face flush. He very rarely felt embarrassed, but having a panic attack in front of someone was peak humiliation. It wasn’t even the type of embarrassment that made him angry. At least that would have been useful. This was the kind of embarrassment that left him ashamed, afraid, and fragile in the way he only felt after an attack. He dropped his eyes to his bare knees. “I-I’m sorry. T-that you had to see that.”

Jake’s eyes widened. “No, you don’t have to be sorry – I’m sorry. If I…did something or made you feel uncomfortable.” He reached for Nic’s hand, but changed his mind last minute, returning back to his lap.

Nic closed his eyes in shame. Jake was always so fucking nice, even when Nic didn’t deserve it. It was endearing in some ways, off-putting in others. He literally couldn’t recognize a trainwreck if it walked up and sucked his dick. “Wasn’t you.”

Jake nodded and didn’t speak for a moment. “My sister used to have those sometimes. Panic attacks.”

That explained why he wasn’t confused. Nic shivered, unsure of what to say, if anything. He stared blankly into the darkness in front of them, trying to think of something to make this situation better, less embarrassing, maybe a snarky joke or a subject change. That usually worked. But for whatever goddamn reason the words that came out of his mouth were none of those things. “I was raped two years ago. That’s why I have them.”

He could feel Jake’s shock. It was almost as pressing as his own.

Nic was more than embarrassed now: he was mortified. He couldn’t take those words back. Arnie was the only one that knew the details of what had happened to him; even Luke only had an inkling. “I don’t know why I told you that,” he said out loud, echoing his confused thoughts. I need to get out of here.

He didn’t wait to hear a response from Jake. Nic stood up, and to his relief his legs were steady. He started looking for his clothes. “We need to get going before the bell.”

Jake was still sitting against the wall, but he seemed to have recovered. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “It’s no big deal – it rang fifteen minutes ago.”

Nic’s jaw dropped. “It rang – Why are you still here?”

Jake looked almost offended. “I wasn’t going to leave you like that,” he said, matter-of-factly.

Speechless, Nic shoved his feet into his jeans. As he stood, he felt something warm seep into his boxers and shuddered. He was going to have to stop by a bathroom before finally getting to class – and he’d probably spend more time in there crying than cleaning up. “I have to go,” he said, more to himself than Jake.

Jake was standing now. He approached Nic, but didn’t get too close, probably out of fear of setting him off again. “Nic – ”

Nic firmly shook his head, stopping whatever he was about to say. He yanked his shirt over his head with unnecessary force; it was a miracle he didn’t rip it. “Seriously, Jake. I have to go.”

The use of his real name seemed to startle him into compliance. Jake nodded, frowning down at the ground between them, hands on his hips. “Okay.”

Nic swept his bag off the ground and onto his shoulder. He hurried out of the room, trying hard not to stumble on legs that refused to cooperate. No more half-hearted ultimatums with himself. This really had to end now – there was no coming back from this.

*** 

Jake traipsed into Civics over twenty minutes late, avoiding a glare from Dr. Martin that clearly said he was going to get an earful later. He didn’t care – he had been in something of a daze since he parted ways with Nic, to the point that the walk to class had been a blur. He found his seat next to Luke, who looked at him quizzically, then wrinkled his nose.

“You smell like sweat,” he informed Jake. “Was it in that bad a shape?”

Jake stared blankly at him for a few seconds before he remembered what Luke thought he was doing with Nic. “Y-yeah. He should get it checked out.” He pulled his notebook out and poised his pencil to take notes as Dr. Martin droned on with her lecture. After twenty more minutes, not a single word had been written down, and he could feel Luke casting him worried glances every now and then. Usually, he was at least doodling.

It didn’t matter much in the end, anyway. With only a few minutes left to the period, the overhead speaker blared to life with an announcement from the overworked office assistant: “Jacob Ferguson to the principal’s office, please. Jacob Ferguson.”