Date: Sun, 19 Dec 99 11:54:42 +0800 From: Emellie Giggles Subject: The Gentlemen's Club: Jeff THE GENTLEMEN'S CLUB Jeff By Lady Poetess. Copyright 1999. Feel free to reproduce and distribute as long as you leave the credits and the author's note below intact. If you somehow make money out of this, well, good for you but please send some to me at egiggles@moose- mail.com! Author's note: This is actually a part of an ongoing fantasy fan-fiction about a fictional group of friends in New York whose weekly poker games form the basis of their story of finding love and laughter. These friends are - under inexplicable circumstances! - dead ringers from some music and movie celebrities, obscure or well known, that I find worth a write or two. The men and their lives depicted here have nothing in common with the real people they are based on apart from their appearances and names. I am not speculating on their sexual orientation or personal past. Again, everything is strictly fictional, apart from the character's good looks. Suing me is a waste of time, as frankly, to be blunt, I'm penniless. PROLOGUE "It's done,' Ronan Keating declared, waltzing into the room with brighter-than-usual gaiety. "We've gotten Jeff drunk and stripped him naked and thew him on Alan's boat." "With nothing but a bag of skimpy underwear," Ethan Hawke injected, following Ronan into the room. "Alan's in for a treat." "Perfect," Jeremy Northam said. "That will teach that bugger to mess with me. A week or two upon Misadventurer may do him some good." He saw the look on the other two men. "What?" "The boat's name. Did I hear you say The Adventurer?" Ethan practically squeaked. "No, it's Misadventurer. Why. oh God, you didn't," Jeremy said. "'Fraid so," Ronan said. "I need a drink." ONE Nick Lachey was exhausted to his very bones. The last time he had some decent sleep was three days ago, right before the grueling drug bust that almost cost him his right eye. It had been his intention to sleep for two days the moment he had Misadventurer safely in deep waters, rejuvenating his strength for a week of quiet solitude adrift in the ocean. Instead, he had to fight a storm three hours upon setting sail and only now, six hours later when he was sure he had everything under control, was he allowed succor. He pulled his extremely wet T-shirt off and threw it into a corner. Stripped to his shorts, he stretched, feeling all his muscles protest under the strain. "Finally," he said aloud, and reached for his narrow bed. He threw the sheets aside. "What the fuck!" "What the hell!" the naked man jumped upon hearing Nick's shout. "Shit! Where am I?" With that the man proceeded to throw up the contents of his stomach at Nick's feet. Nick's reply was a punch in the man's face, knocking the latter cold. "I'm sorry I have to bother you like this," the man told Nick half an hour later. Nick cast the soiled cloth he used to clean up the man's mess into the bucket and looked at the man sitting glumly at the bed. "I can't believe this," he said for the twentieth time. "Your friends throw you to your boyfriend's boat as his birthday surprise and some sort of retaliation for you playing a trick on them. They got you drunk and throw you aboard, only that it's my boat they threw you on. Am I right?" "Yeah," Jeff said, looking most comfortable in an impromptu toga made of blankets and sipping a hot cup of coffee. "And they left me without any clothes but this." He kicked at a duffel bag at the floor, wincing as his toes hit the bag. "They've raided my underwear wardrobe." "We're way too far from shore to turn back," Nick said, leaning against the wall. "And I doubt there would be anyone willing to come here to take you back." "You can try. I'd be glad to go back. In fact, I think I'm going to throw up again." Nick kicked the chamber pot across the floor to him. An hour later, he cut off transmission over his radio somewhat impatiently. Short of Misadventurer colliding with an oil tanker and blowing sky high, there wouldn't be anyone, shore police or otherwise, willing to come all the way out here to retrieve a silly ass who got drunk and stowed away at the wrong boat. He was stuck with this Jeff for the rest of his voyage, and he refused to cut it short to accommodate the man. "Okay, you'll sleep on the hammock I'll put up in my cabin," Nick told him. "You'll just puke whenever you want in the chamber pot or over the rail and stay out of my way." "Can't I do anything to help?" Nick looked at Jeff who was wearing Nick's T-shirt and shorts, both baggy on that man since Nick was a way larger man. The man looked like he hadn't done a single day's work in his life. A disquieting thought sneaked into his head: could this be one of those pampered rich boys who was so in the closet that he was meeting this boyfriend of his in the sly? If so, Jeff's father would probably hit the roof upon finding the boy missing, and Nick would be the one to pay. Once he had made the mistake of falling for a rich heir of an oil dynasty, only to be ambushed by five hired thugs in an alley with a painful warning from the boy's father to stay away from his son. That was a mistake Nick refused to make again. "Can you cook?" he asked skeptically. The ship wasn't too big to require a second pair of hands. "All you need to do is to open cans and heat the contents," he amended, thinking of the two months' worth of canned food in the store. "Perfect. My grandfather used to take me camping, and he taught me fifty ways to prepare tuna," Jeff said cheerfully despite his still greenish pallor. "This isn't too bad. I could use an impromptu vacation anyway." TWO Jeff knew he had a boyfriend. He believed in fidelity and monogamy. Still, there was no harm in looking, he assured himself. The uncomfortable throbbing of his erection wasn't anything, provided he exercised some control. Right? He used the mop he was holding as support. It had to be his still shaky sea legs, for suddenly his knees wobbled. It couldn't be Nick, even if that man stood on the higher level of the deck wearing nothing but shorts that mould to the muscular shapes of his thighs. Wow, the man was built like a house. Slim but well muscled, Nick had wide shoulders that looked as if they could support the burdens of the world, and that perfectly sculpted body tapered into narrow waist, with those well-delineated stomach muscles standing out in tensed perfection. Nick pulled at the ropes to hoist the sail, his biceps bulging in splendid glory with each movement, in perfect synchrony with the fluid tensing and relaxing of the well-shaped thigh muscles. "There you are. Say, I could use a hand here," Nick said upon spotting him. Jeff nodded, swallowing, as his eyes feasted on the sight of those shorts riding low on Nick's hips, revealing deep dimples of his pelvic arch as they rode low, forming a tantalizing `U' beneath Nick's navel. The shorts hugged every contour of Nick's groin, clinging to the heavy bulge of Nick's cock and the gentle curve of the thighs. The sizeable crotch was impressive even upon its resting state. It was all Jeff could do not to moan in lust even as he clenched his buttocks in an attempt to control his lust. He climbed up to Nick, thanking God that Nick's shorts were baggy on him, somewhat hiding the raging state of Jeffrey Junior. He blamed his lack of concentration on Jeffrey Junior thirty minutes later when he tripped over Nick's foot and fell. The sail trembled, and the mast hit Nick right at the back of his head the moment Jeff lost his grip on the rope. Nick didn't talk or even look at him for that day and the next. "How did it go? Ah yes." Jeff stood straight and punched his fists in the air. "I am the king of the world!" he yelled to the brilliant night sky. "Woo-hoo!" Nick stayed where he was, sitting on a broken folded chair with a fishing rod in his hand, charmed despite his best intentions at Jeff's seemingly na‹ve joie de vivre. There was traitorous warmth in his heart as he watched the man called to him, yelling that he had caught sight of what he believed was a star of some sort. The warmth had been there for quite awhile, he suspected, probably growing seed the moment Jeff served up the best platter of canned tuna he had ever eaten. "I just added some lime slices I found in one of the Tupperware cases. Then I added in some dash of pepper and vinegar," Jeff had explained, elaborating on a recipe a lawyer named Greg taught him. And Nick hated himself for wondering if this Greg was Jeff's boyfriend. Jeff was clumsy. He stumbled into things. He dropped all the kitchenware nilly-willy and if they were breakable, Nick would be eating from the can. Jeff was also hypoglycemic, using up extra gas to cook himself a separate set of food with reduced sugar and fruit contents. Nick had caught himself in the midst of a fervent desire to beat up Jeff's friends who put him here without his medication. Somehow, he had begun to actually like this incompetent oaf. "There's an old telescope in our - my - room," Nick shouted. Jeff smiled then, a wide, graceless smile that was almost goofy, and Nick felt the world around him disappear. Jeff's boyish handsomeness made him look almost 18, which was the age Nick initially assumed he was (Jeff insisted adamantly that he was 26, same age as Nick). The way those dimples in the high cheeks deepen and the way the starlight reflected off those blue-gray eyes made him look like the statue of a pagan god of youth Nick had seen during an exploration in Btawii. At that moment Nick hated the faceless boyfriend of Jeff with all his heart. Jeff ran down the still slippery floor. Nick saw him slip, fall onto his butt, before clambering up again. He looked again. It was a really shapely butt, nicely rounded and the way the shorts stretched taut against the firm cheeks was damned arousing. Jeff's shirt had hiked up when he fell, and when he regained his footing, the shirt fell down, but not fast enough to expose a set of firm abdominal muscles. Nick spread his thighs apart, letting his cock grow and fill. Jeff had said that strict and regular exercising was a must in his staving off hypoglycemic attacks, and Nick could fucking well testify that the man had adhered to his exercise regiment faithfully. Too bad Jeff belonged to someone else. Nick's brain knew, but fuck if his cock didn't get the message. "What's it like, being a cop?" Jeff looked up from the book he was reading the moment Nick stepped into the cabin. "Not too bad." Nick had anchored the Misadventurer for the night. He was looking forward to this moment, when he would retreat and Jeff would talk to him, he suddenly realized. The room seemed brighter and roomier when Jeff was around. For that, perhaps he owed Jeff some decent conversation. "I am a cop after leaving high school. I don't have any basis for comparison." "You got a rank?" "Yeah. Detective. Nothing special really." Nick sat on his bed. "It can be fucking hard on the nerves though, the long stakeouts and interrogations I have to go through. And dealing with weeping women and men with fake bravado can be one fucked-up experience." "But it has its perks, right?" "I'm serving the people." Nick pulled off his shirt and wiped his body, still wet from his dip in the ocean. It was probably wishful thinking to feel as if Jeff were staring at him. "My father was a cop, so was his father. Besides, I'm not good at anything but fighting, so I may as well put it to good use." He looked at Jeff who looked heavily engrossed in the book. "How about you? What job do you have?" "Me? I help my father around. Okay, not much. I'm what you call a rich bum. My family never let me do anything because they think I'll get a hypoglycemic attack if heaven forbid I do anything without consulting them first. This vacation is the first time I actually do things on my own, do you believe that? I'm 26, and I'm as independent as I was at 13." "Your parents care for you. That's good." Nick thought of his distant and almost emotionless father and his overworked mother. "You just need to tell them to back off." "Nick, that's easy, if you can defeat years of social conditioning that makes you believe you're an incapacitated weakling. But I'm working on it. I've saved up enough to buy myself a house far, far away from my parents." "Good." Nick felt weary all of a sudden. Jeff would be okay, and Nick shouldn't care too much. "I'm going to bed." That night he dreamed of the man that he had been infatuated with when he was younger and stupid. He remembered the disbelief that he had felt when, bloodied and barely able to walk; he had staggered to Horus' house to beg him to run away with him. They could start a life together in a faraway place where no one would care about the difference in their status. But the door never opened. The stiff-lipped butler had told him with a sneer that young Master Horus wasn't in. Nick had seen Horus looking out the window at him, and from the way Horus quickly turned away to laugh at something his companions say, Nick knew that he was the only idiot who thought his foolish dreams would work. From disbelief came hurt, then the agony of hatred. "Hey, are you okay?" he heard a distant voice whisper. He opened his eyes, feeling a million years old, and saw Jeff looming over him. "You're whimpering," he heard Jeff say quietly, and he thought that soft, smooth tenor was the sweetest balm of benediction on his soul. "Have you been listening to me sleep?" he asked Jeff quietly, feeling his heart break even as his desire went on slow burn. "I'm always listening to you sleep," Jeff said, his eyes glittering in the dark, in the starlight. Nick had never seen anything more beautiful. He touched Jeff's face with trembling fingers, letting Jeff's incipient beard singe his skin. "You're just like the sands of Sahara at night. Starlight in my hands." "Hush." Jeff lowered his lips to Nick's, a shy grazing of lips. Nick refused to have that. He bit gently on Jeff's lower lip, refusing to let the man move away. When Jeff opened his mouth to protest, Nick's tongue slipped through, plundering at the sweetness of the man's mouth. His tongue rubbed against the roof of Jeff's mouth, licking at the moistness of the gums, and inviting Jeff to explore him with equal abandon. Yet he was unprepared when Jeff answered his invitation, when their tongues began their sinuous dance, rubbing and caressing and tasting each other. Nick's hands slipped under Nick's shirt, pulling it up to his armpits and Jeff himself broke off the kiss to pull his shirt over his head. "Great body," Nick murmured, pinching roughly at Jeff's wine-dark nipples. "Speak for yourself, stud," Jeff said, "you're not too bad yourself." Nick smiled, sitting up and lowering his shorts. His cock, engorged to the hilt, throbbed free. "Yeah, that's it," he gasped when Jeff swooped down on him. Warm, heated lips enveloped his cock, slowly sheathing him until he was halfway down Jeff's throat. "Careful love. Not everyone can take all of me." Jeff's eyes flashed defiant fire, and his throat only loosened, taking in more of Nick. Nick gripped sides of the bed as hot fire raced up every inch of him up to his spine when Jeff's lips rested on the base of his cock, those velvet lips burning on him. Then Jeff withdrew, slowly, inch by inch, stopping to give the crown of Nick's cock a slow lick at the slit before sneering at Nick. "You're looking at a professional in fellatio," Jeff told Nick with a hint of gentle mockery. "I'm trained on the football team of Harvard, Class of '94. You can't find anyone who can take big dicks up my throat and ass like I do." "Oh?" Nick growled even as his cock jumped at the thought of sinking in a hot, tight asshole. "So you've lived a wild fucking life?" The thought of Jeff's body under another's, that taut buttocks parting to be speared by another cock, drove Nick wild enough to kill. "You haven't been fucked by me, you teasing bitch. I'll ruin you for other man." "Oh, with a cock that size, I believe you will," Jeff said. "Ever fucked on a hammock before, Nick?" "No," Nick said, advancing on Jeff. Jeff lay back on the hammock and placed his hands around his ankles. He raised them easily until his ankles were up to the level of his shoulders, exposing his dark, quivering asshole. "Then what are you waiting for?" he cooed. Nick didn't hesitate. He clambered on the hammock, causing it to sway dangerously, covering his body over Jeff's. Jeff's eyes shut tight and a pleased groan escaped those gorgeous lips when the tip of Nick's cock widened the ring of muscles of his anal passage wider than anyone else ever did. "Please," he begged as he ground his groin at Nick. "I need - aaarrrggghhh!" He screamed in real agony as Nick's cock speared him, ripping his well-used anus to its stretching limit. Nick paused, every muscle tensed in barely suppressed violence, his eyes nothing but gentle concern as he kissed Jeff's forehead tenderly. But he didn't withdraw - no fucking way! - he waited until Jeff's breathing was almost back to normal, when he felt Jeff's muscles relax as he adjusted to Nick's thickness, then he resumed his coring. Jeff gasped as he felt Nick invade him deeper, as every muscle in his anal passage gave way to Nick's massive column of flesh. He wanted to scream at the man above him to get off, so bad was the agony that ripped through his very being. Then it happened. Nick's cock nudged at his prostate, and then Jeff saw nothing but the blinding white flash of orgasm even as Nick's cock pushed even deeper. He shuddered, screaming in joy and relief as his orgasm seized him, causing his balls to rise and white, rich ejaculate spurted from his cock onto both their chests and stomachs. Warm, fiery pleasure ensnared his senses, driving him insensate into a world of ejaculation and Nick's hot thrusts. one, two, three hard thrusts, then Nick too was joining him, his thick creamy semen gushing up so deep up his rectum that Jeff could almost taste it in his throat. "Shit," Jeff said when sunlight streamed onto his face the next morning. He looked at the man sprawled beside him on the floor, and cursed softly. It had to be the moon, or the stars, hell, perhaps it was the fucking sea air, but like it or not, he had cheated on Alan last night. Not once, but four times throughout the night, as he and Nick used each other in ways that demolished both their senses. "I'm not cut out for this infidelity shit." "Feeling sorry already?" Nick opened his eyes. He rubbed at his stubble. "Hell, I don't think I'm cut out for this poaching on another man's boyfriend either. I feel like the most unworthy motherfucker on earth." "I know." Jeff turned to the other man and grinned. "It sure felt great though, doesn't it? Especially when you sat on my cock and fucked my brains out." "Yeah. I must say we fit perfectly." Nick smiled back. "So what do we do now?" "Well, we can either stop what we are doing right now, which I'm sure is the proper thing. Or we can just keep fucking each other until the end of the trip, and return home feeling like the sleaziest bastards in the world." "Okay, we'll do the right thing. No more fucking," Nick said solemnly. He lay back on his pillow. "But hell, it was a great fuck though." Jeff grunted, gripping hard on the railing as he bent over. He fell forward with each hard thrust from behind by Nick. So much for good intentions - two hours after vowing never to fuck, they were at it again. All Jeff had to do was to see Nick on deck shirtless, and all Nick had to do was to look at Jeff. Fuck foreplay, it was all Jeff could do to get down on his knees before Nick savagely ripped his shorts to pieces and plunged hard without any preliminaries. Strangely, the pain of dry fucking was arousing, maddeningly so, as Jeff clenched hard on that penis pumping him. He thrust his ass back when Nick withdrew, desperate not to feel the gaping emptiness that was Nick's withdrawal; his tight tensing of his rectal muscles on Nick's cock so hard that Nick shuddered with the ecstasy of it. Every distended vein on that proud cock stood out in glorious lust as it rammed violently in that sweet hot crevice that promised so much pleasures. "Oh, oh, oh Nick, Nick," Jeff panted, biting into his lips as he felt his own groin tighten. The familiar pulsing pleasure that pooled at the base of his spine, pulsating with each maddening rubbing of Nick's cock against his aching prostate, intensifying with each impossibly wide stretch of Nick's cock crown against his entrance of his anus, burning, hungering, unbearably painful - then Jeff was sobbing incoherently as Nick's rough fingers closed around Jeff's throbbing cock. At that contact, Jeff ejaculated wildly. Nick's fingers closed around him, collecting his come juices in that wide palm of his. Then Nick was rubbing the rich ejaculate along Jeff's chest; the warm juices layered like thick icing on his hard muscled chest. Nick's touch lingered on those erect, aching nipples, smoothing tangy male juices at each throbbing peak, before continuing down, down where soft skin stretched taut over stomach muscles tensed in need of more relief. Jeff spread his thighs wider as he felt his lover's thrusts increased in speed. He needed that, oh yes, oh Lord, all that hard-muscled strength between his legs, and that big horse- cock. Jeff reached blindly behind, feeling the smooth fluid motions of Nick's rock-hard thigh muscles under tanned skin, and then those taut, rock-hard buns, hiding the asshole that Jeff had fucked hard only last night. Nick was as great a bottom as he was an aggressive top; Jeff wondered if he would ever be satisfied if any other man after Nick. All thoughts splintered the moment he felt Nick's cock hardened further, stretching Jeff's male fuckhole impossibly wider than before. At that final, deepest thrust, Jeff felt the violent throb of Nick's cock, then it was pure ecstasy as Nick arched his back, head thrown back and eyes wide shut and teeth gritted, and spilled his tribute, those delicious semen, a helpless worshipper of Jeff's body. His friend Stephen was right, Jeff thought dimly, life was infinitely better as a bottom. "I can't keep my hands off you," Nick murmured that night. They hadn't done anything but to copulate like two slaves to their hormones, which was probably what they were. "And I don't even feel guilty about this boyfriend of yours." "Let me feel guilty later," Jeff answered, snuggling deeper in Nick's embrace. "This seems so perfect, I don't want it to end." Nick took a deep breath and fortified his nerves. Some things had to be said, even if he was dooming himself to heartbreak. "Jeff? How would you know if a man loves you?" Jeff chuckled, the motion of his chest rubbing against Nick's causing resurgence in Nick's flaccid cock. "Well?" Nick insisted, letting the arousal build. They had fucked so many times, both of them were sore as hell. They had time to rediscover each other's body later. Maybe in twenty minutes' time. "How will I know if a man loves me? Well, he'll get a tattoo on him. Maybe my name." Jeff stretched, feeling the muscles in his back pop. "God, I need chocolate." "Hypoglycemia coming again?" "I haven't eaten whole day. That's bad." Jeff sat up. "I'll cook us something. I can't believe we missed lunch and breakfast." "Stay Jeff. I'll cook." Nick reached for his shorts. He wasn't a good cook like Jeff, hence he heated some sardines. He had no appetite for food, however, so he sat back and watched Jeff eat. The man ate with simple relish, like the way he did everything else from fucking to discovering new sights in the sea. Nick had never seen any man so singularly excited about life. "Cotemalayla," he said aloud. Jeff looked up. "What's that?" "Oh, an Australian aboriginal term. It fits you. You're exciting and beautiful. You remind me of the spindle monkeys of Australia." Jeff peeled open a Mars bar. "I'll take that as a compliment." "I mean you're like those monkeys, always doing things with so much energy and so much enthusiasm. You should see the way the male monkeys court the females.I'm doing this wrong," Nick said with a sigh. He never was good with words. Jeff stopped laughing. "No, you're doing it right. That's the best thing anyone has ever said to me. Back home I'm a bungling, lazy wastrel who can't tie his shoelaces without his father running up in alarm." He reached across the table and covered Nick's hand with his. "You're a great buddy Nick." Nick saw red. Great buddy? After all the fucking they had done? At that moment they heard the sound of the approaching ship. It was Jeremy. "Ahoy there. I thought you'd want a lift home," he called. "You have no idea how bloody difficult it is to hunt the both of you down." THREE "Look at you. You have actually gained weight," Mathilda Emerson cooed. Jeff wanted so dearly to rip his tie too. He wanted out. He couldn't take all this society soirees anymore, not the condescending way the socialites treat the bungling young Mr Timmons, and certainly not the aching loneliness in his soul. But he couldn't go searching for Nick, could he? The man all but tossed him out of the boat the moment Jeremy arrived, and Jeff wasn't sure of his emotions to beg to be allowed to stay. Now, oh, how he missed the sea, the freedom, and the man that showed him was it was to be treated as an equal and a person. Nick made him feel like a human being instead of a clown, and he missed that feeling. He missed Nick so much that he wanted to just lie down and die. Maybe then Nick would feel the agony that Jeff was living day by day. Jeff smiled stiffly, and walked away from his aunt. He almost collapsed with relief when he saw his friend Brendan. "Brendan, I need your car." "No way. My Porsche's new." Brendan reached into his pocket, however. "You can get a new one. I'll buy you one." Jeff fidgeted impatiently. He had planned to hire a builder for the house he had designed, hell, he had even planned what dogs he would get from the Pound to live with him. All he needed to do now was to take the first step to independence. At 26, he was long overdue in doing that. But what good was a house of his own design when Nick wouldn't be living there with him? Where had that thought come from? Jeff accepted the key from Brendan, not seeing anything as he was lost in his thoughts. He waved a concerned Brendan off, and sat on the stairs, struck by the direction of his thoughts. Did he really want Nick to live with him? Why Nick? Why not Alan, or any other of his ex-boyfriends? He was still puzzling this new mental dilemma when he realized that the key he was holding was actually a hotel room key. Room 98. "Brendan, what's this?" "It's Jeremy's way of making amends. You want to move out of your parents' place right? He suggests you move in right away and send for your things later. Make a move before your parents know what hit them, if you know what I mean." Jeff looked at Brendan, eyes narrowed. "Okay," he said, even as he knew Brendan was lying through his teeth. Room 98 was a simple if comfortable room in a motel downtown. Perfect. In his state of mind, Jeff didn't bother to think too hard. Weary, he stripped and fell asleep to the sounds of a porn show on TV. He didn't hear the turning of a key on the adjoining room, and he didn't hear the man walk in. It was too late when he woke up. Nick Lachey had all nine glorious inches of him buried to the hilt up Jeff's unprepared ass. "Nick!" Jeff gasped even as his body accommodated itself to this sudden if not unwelcome invasion. "How- what- am I dreaming?" He touched the heart tattoo on Nick's chest, where his heart beat thunderously, and stared dumbly at his name engraved in the middle of the red heart. Nick pushed Jeff back onto the mattress. "You left Alan." "Yes. We never mean anything more than convenient fuck partners." Jeff gritted his teeth when Nick's hands gripped his face to make him look at the man. "You're hurting me, Nick." Nick released his grip only a little. He moved, withdrawing a little from Jeff, and plunging back in when Jeff whimpered a violent protest, the latter's anal passage an iron grip of a sheath on his cock. Oh yes, he missed this sweet hot ass as much as he missed seeing and talking to Jeff, Nick thought. His heart was close to bursting at the potential possibilities he and Jeff could share in their lives. He was actually happy. "You're miserable without me." "Did Jeremy tell on me, that nosey old - oh yes, like that, Nick." "You should thank Jeremy. He tracked me down and told me you miss this." Nick began a leisurely pumping rhythm, resting his weight on his palms and knees. "Definitely this." "I hear you're building a house. You're looking for a housemate? You can live with me in the meantime." Nick slowly whispered in Jeff's ears as he fucked that man tenderly. As he adjusted Jeff's legs above his shoulders, he nibbled on the earlobe. "You think you've me wrapped around your finger, don't you?" Jeff said forcefully, only that the effect was ruined when he gave a high-pitched cry the moment Nick inserted a finger up Jeff's already cock-packed anus. "Nick!" "Maybe you're not ready for this yet," Nick murmured, slowly withdrawing the finger. As he resumed his screwing of the man he loved, he placed Jeff's hand on his heart. "I have you in my heart, and hell, you have me wrapped around your finger. The least you can do is to give me the same advantage." Jeff silenced him with three skilful fingers up the man's tensed asshole. As he lay back to enjoy Nick's lovemaking, he decided that emotions might be fucking complicated but what the hell, if this was love, it was going to be one hell of an adventure.