Mike and Winston - 2. Chapter 2

It was a hot day, and the sweat Mike felt running down his back was as much due to the heat as his nervousness. Nonetheless, he had gotten himself a coffee, which he doubted he would actually finish. He checked his watch again; it was two minutes past one. Winston was two minutes late.

He had bent over and tilted his cup to take a sip when he saw a man walking swiftly towards the coffee shop entrance. He was wearing a deep blue blazer over a pastel shirt, and conspicuously white pants that reminded Mike of coachmen. The man paused after stepping inside, and Mike swallowed when the man’s gaze stopped on him. It took him all his strength to keep that gaze as the man approached. He had blue eyes, Mike noticed.

“Hello,” the man said in a very polite voice. “Are you Mike?”

Mike felt suddenly the urge to get up. Instead he gripped the edge of the table and nodded quickly. “Yes. And you’re Winston?”

“Yes, I am,” said Winston, taking a seat. A waitress appeared, and Mike swallowed hard. His shirt must have been thoroughly soaked, and the coffee shop was anything but cool, but his hands still felt icy. He wiped them quickly on his shorts as Winston made his order.

“So,” Winston said in a low voice. He paused, and then said, “It’s hot, isn’t it?”

Mike managed a smile. “Too hot,” he said, and tore with relief into the topic of the weather. He sipped his coffee at every pause even though the liquid tasted almost brackish. He realized, halfway through his cup, he was warming his fingers against the sides.

“I haven’t too much time,” Winston said after leaning somewhat forward. “Did you say your place was free?”

Mike had to catch himself from gulping; as a result, his voice came out a bit choked. “Yes. It’s really close, just around the corner, really.”

They paid for their respective drinks, neither of which they had finished, and left the coffee shop. The sun beat down fiercely, making even the shadowy pile of junk between each house seem bright and glittering. They said nothing as they walked. A black rapper was moving to the music from his iPod on the other side of the street. There was a crookedly-parked U-Haul van they had to step around, and Mike found himself glancing at the workers. None of them caught his eye. He wondered desperately if he was even capable of managing an erection at this rate, and shuddered at the thought of the potential disaster.

They reached the building, and Mike jangled apologetically with the keyhole.

“So your roommate isn’t here?” Winston said in a low voice. Mike shook his head, and for the first time felt a thrill of something warmer than nervous excitement shiver down his spine.

They marched up the pink-carpeted stairs. Mike found himself talking animatedly of the residents, as though he were introducing the other man to a potential real estate investment. “Some senior lives there,” he said. “He’s a biochem major, I think. We’re the only tenants who go to the university on this floor. I don’t know who lives there, and some girl lives there.”

He opened the door to his room, and shut it after Winston stepped through. He turned the lock. Oddly enough, the finality of the bolt thudding home knocked another chip from his nervousness. He was alone with this man, this stranger, who had obviously thought him attractive enough not to ditch him at the coffee shop. And Winston had nice hands, Mike observed. They were well groomed and masculine, and the gold band on the fourth finger looked almost discrete.

“You’re into Radiohead?” Winston said, looking at the poster at the head of the bed.

“Yeah, are you?” Mike said, standing a bit behind the other man. He was glad now that he had acted on his impulses and bought it from the thrift store down the street. Anything to keep the conversation going.

“I used to be, for a while.” Winston made another circuit of the room before stopping in the middle and nodding, as though in approval. “It’s pretty good for a dorm. I had a place like this when I went to college.”

“Where’d you go to?”

“Some place you haven’t heard of in the Midwest,” said Winston. He smiled. “I wasn’t smart like you. UC Berkeley, eh?”

Mike shook his head and grinned. He felt pleased. He liked being complimented by someone so much older than he, someone dressed in a smart shirt of the sort that he secretly envied from a self-imposed distance.

“Do you want something to drink?”

“What do you have?”

Mike pulled open the small refrigerator and peered inside, although he already knew what was there. “Water, juice… I’ve also got some Coke or Pepsi if you—want.” He waited, not daring to move. Winston had put a hand on his left shoulder and left it there. Mike licked his lips. His heart was pounding.

“Maybe a Pepsi,” Winston said in a low voice.

They never got around to drinking anything. Mike turned his head and suddenly they were kissing, and a few blurred minutes later, they were half-sitting, half-lying on the bed, and Mike found himself trying to keep his fingers from trembling too much as he undid the buttons on Winston’s shirt.

“Have you done this before?”

“Yeah, sort of,” Mike said, and bit his lip, realizing how lame it sounded. He finished the last button and looked up with some trepidation, but Winston only had an amused look on his face. It was not unkindly. Mike returned it with a grin and sat back, looking at his handiwork. He had been naked with Petch before, but Petch had been hairless, with a bland and featureless torso. It had been almost puppyish, the groping and petting and affected croons; it had certainly been boyish.

He reached out a hand and placed it on the other man’s chest. Winston held still. Mike moved upwards and pushed the shirt off the other man’s shoulders. They were of similar build, Mike decided, though Winston’s chest was thicker, with more definition, as well as a swirl of hair narrowing down his torso. The other man’s shoulders, too, were broader, and the face above it had a strong jaw, soft-looking lips. The eyes, too, were not bad looking at all. There was something nice about them, particularly in the brief glances that Mike risked. He felt his stomach clench with a flutter of anticipation. Winston was rather hot.

“My turn,” Winston muttered, reaching for Mike’s waist. “I want to see what Mr. UC Berkeley has hiding.”

Mike shivered, and after some sweaty tugging, Winston had gotten rid of his shirt, and was now undoing the button to his khaki shorts. He sucked in his breath as Winston pulled down both his shorts and his boxers at once, and tossed the clothes in a pile on the floor. Mike spread his legs gingerly. It felt weird to be naked in front of a stranger, but it was arousing too, especially the intent way Winston was considering him. Winston75, a stranger with his shirt unbuttoned and his chest bare, and a tent in his pants.

“Mm,” Winston muttered, “I likes.”

Mike stumbled over his tongue with a burst of laughter. “Thanks,” he mumbled, and then hissed with pleasure when Winston lowered his head and brushed the tip of his member with his lips. The hiss became a keening sound when Winston worked Mike’s cock deeper and deeper into his throat, as though he had been nursing a fierce hunger for weeks, months.

Mike clenched his fists and screwed his eyes shut. He had no idea it could feel like this. Petch never managed to go all the way down, and what they had done with their mouths had been clumsy, amateurish, sensual but never— Mike gasped and clutched Winston’s head as the other man pulled up and did something with his tongue that Mike had never imagined.

“Fuck,” Mike hissed. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

Winston laughed softly. “Not the classes you’re taking.” Mike sucked in a breath as the other man clambered onto the bed and lay full bodied on top of him. Mike found himself spreading his legs instinctively and wrapping them around the other man; he realized that he wanted this, more than he had ever wanted with Petch. He was shaking again, the way he had trembled the first time he had touched Petch. With both hands, he grabbed Winston’s head and pressed their lips together.

They broke apart, hips still grinding into each other, and Mike mumbled inconsequentially, “You use Gillette.”

“Mm, so do you,” Winston said, his face buried in Mike’s neck. Mike felt hands fumbling at the level of his waist, and realized it was Winston undoing his pants. Mike reached down to help. It was strangely arousing to be pulling down someone else’s zipper, stretching the elastic band of someone else’s underwear.

A few seconds later, Winston was moving, pushing forward and backwards with his hips, grinding themselves together. Mike’s hand went up to clutch the other man’s back.

“Oh God,” he moaned.

Winston lifted his head from where had been sucking Mike’s jaw. “Should we keep the volume down?”

“What?”

“Should we be quiet?”

“Uh, a little, but—” He hissed as he felt one of Winston’s hands work between the bed sheets and their skin to find his ass hole. “It’s not a big deal. Just—”

Mike trailed off. Winston had penetrated him with a finger, and a burning sensation spread through his ass. He bit his lower lip, concentrating, for a moment unable to decide if it was pleasure or discomfort he was feeling. “Wait a sec. I’ve got lube.”

“Sure,” Winston murmured, and Mike sighed as the finger left his ass. He rolled off the bed, still naked, and pulled open a desk drawer.

“I’ve got a condom if you haven’t got one,” Winston said.

“No,” Mike said, grunting as he reached into the back of his drawer. “I’ve—” He paused, feeling something lightly touch his ass. “I’ve got one.” He turned around and paused. Winston was lying naked, legs slightly apart, arms resting expectantly on the sheets. He had a half-smile on his face, one that was unfamiliar yet already familiar. Mike grinned and clambered onto the bed, feeling a pleasant trembling at the ends of his nerves, an aroused excitement that he could not remember having felt before, certainly not with another person.

“It’s not expired, is it?” Winston said. He made a wringing motion with his hands, and Mike almost did not catch the flash of gold that Winston dropped on the bed stand.

“Uh…” Mike glanced down at the packaging. “I don’t think so. Does it say?”

“Forget about it,” Winston said, and when Mike glanced up, he found the other man with a smile on his face. “I get a bit paranoid, sometimes.”

Mike hummed, not really knowing how to respond. “It doesn’t look expired,” he said, as Winston took the package and broke it with a sharp rip.

“We’re going to find out, aren’t we?”

Mike watched as Winston rolled the condom onto bulbous head, the shaft that looked much thicker than his own. Even that was arousing. He felt almost giddy with excitement.

“Do you have lube?” Winston said, his voice rougher than it had been a moment ago. Mike handed the bottle to him. Winston looked at it in puzzlement. “You… spray this thing?”

“Yeah,” Mike said, feeling a bit uncertain. Buying it had been an awkward experience. It had also been a first that he had made this sort of purchase; Petch and he had never used so specific.

“Hmm,” Winston muttered, and pressed the trigger. His penis glistened. “Kind of weird. I’ve never used this sort before.”

“Hey, I didn’t know what kind to get. Sorry.”

Winston looked up, but grinned to match Mike’s own. “I guess we can give them a product evaluation.” Mike suppressed a bark of laughter as Winston leaned forward and pressed their lips together. Product evaluation—that was a phrase his father often used.

A moment later, Mike was resting his head against his forearm and peering back. He was relieved that Winston had taken the trouble to loosen him. Petch had not always done so, and that had gotten painful sometimes. The reason Petch had refused, of course, was that he had not liked the idea of sticking his fingers up someone’s ass and potentially getting them dirtied.

“Your dick is going up there,” Mike had said, trying to be reasonable, but feeling cross.

“Well, that’s different,” Petch had said, as though that explained everything.

Mike grabbed two handfuls of the sheets and clenched them. Winston had leaned forward, and Mike could feel the other man’s hardness nudging at his entrance. “Tell me if I’m hurting you,” he whispered.

Mike nodded, setting his jaw. He pushed out slightly; he had read somewhere that that helped. But Winston was aiming too high.

“Lower,” Mike whispered.

Winston grunted. Mike bit his lower lip. He was being entered. Dear God, he was being penetrated— He hissed, but not out of pain; there was almost none. Winston stopped.

“Am I hurting you?”

Mike exhaled, all the air whooshing out his lungs at once. “No,” he gasped. “No, keep going.”

Slowly, at first, and then faster. They kept that position for a while, and Mike clenched and unclenched his fists as he realized he had forgotten how good this could feel. Then Winston pulled out, dragged Mike until his hips were at the edge of the bed, and slammed back in. Mike was sure that he was sounding a bit like an insane thirties crooner by now. Winston was moving with such force that the entire bed was jerking across the room, bumping into furniture and walls, but none of it mattered.

Winston hissed something. It took a moment before Mike could comprehend.

“Me too,” he replied, forcing out the words from between his teeth, and reached down with his hand to stroke his cock. Four thrusts later, and feeling as though the other man were about to smash him through the wall, Mike gave a strangled cry, and heard Winston do the same.

They stayed that way for a whole minute. Perhaps it was less, but to Mike it felt as though little pieces of the world were slowly coming back together, and the sounds and colors of his room were only beginning to adjust themselves to their normal selves. He could feel Winston softening. The other man shifted, and Mike gave a soft groan as Winston pulled out.

“You all right?”

Mike nodded in response. He watched the other man kneel back and carefully pull the condom off his penis, clamber off the bed, and drop the latex into the trash can in the corner. When he came back, Mike somewhat surprised himself by reaching for Winston’s neck and pressing his lips on the other man’s face.

Winston made a soft humming noise. He and Petch had never done anything like this, Mike reflected. After cumming, they had wiped themselves as best as possible, put on their clothes, and ignored each other for the rest of the day. This was nice though. He wondered what it would feel like if Dan were laying next to him.

“That was good,” Winston remarked.

Mike snorted. “Yeah,” he said. “Understatement, I think.” Winston chuckled. Mike had his head resting on Winston’s shoulder, and he could feel the other man’s arm draped around his neck and going down his side. It was an arm he did not know, a face that was still new, but it felt oddly comfortable.

Winston shifted. “What’s the rest of your week like?”

Mike was quiet for a moment before giving his schedule. He had not considered how often they would do this; he had not even thought past their first encounter. But it was not an objectionable thought.

“Next week too?”

“This whole term.”

Winston nodded. He stretched, and Mike caught the scent of muskiness and sweat. “I’m busy this week, but, uh…” He shrugged. “We can do this next week, if you want.”

Mike nodded and broke into a grin. “Sure. That sounds good.” He bit his lip to suppress some of the smile, not wanting to seem too eager. It was still so strange, so unexpected; he did not know how he could be so unappalled.

“Good,” Winston said and returned the smile. He still had the smile on his face as he pulled his arm from under Mike’s back and bent over the bed, fishing his briefs from the floor.

Feeling a little resigned, Mike reached for his shorts and fished out his cell phone. It was half past one.

“I’ve to go back to work,” Winston said, forestalling the question Mike was about to ask. “Is there a Subway nearby?”

“Subway?”

“Sandwiches. Not trains.”

“Oh, yeah.” He gave the directions to the shop, which was about a block from the café where they had met.

“It’s called the Green Shiller, by the way,” said Winston.

“Oh,” Mike said, and grinned with some embarrassment.

A few moments later, Winston was as dressed as he had been when he had entered the room. Mike quickly slipped on his boxers; the notion seemed somewhat ridiculous, but he thought he should at least see the other man to the door.

“Good bye,” said Mike.

Winston paused and gave a look, one eyebrow raised, that made Mike feel a blush crawl over his face.

“Good bye, Mike,” Winston said, and left.

Mike lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling and feeling more content than he had in a while. He had just had sex, and he had enjoyed it. It was better than anything with Petch had been. It better than what he had imagined sex would be like, after what he had done with Petch. But it had also been with a stranger he knew nothing about, a married stranger. It was strange, unbelievable, unsettling, exhilarating. The feelings were like the teased-out edges of cotton, fluffed around a center that he was only sated, not fulfilled.

He put on a few more clothes before shifting his bed back to its original position. Class was going to start in twenty minutes, and after that, he would be working in the psychology lab with Dan. He would think about everything later. Something glittering on the floor caught his eye. He bent to pick it up, and held Winston’s wedding ring to the light.