Page 131 of Too Close To Home

When they opened again, he eased backwards without seeming to realise he was doing it until his shoulders met the wall with a muted thud. Behind him, one of the cymbals quivered on its stand, the soft metallic hum settling between them.

“Jake...”

Jake took the last step anyway.

Because this had been building since the woods.

And Harrison was looking at him like that.

And, for the first time in years, Jake wanted something more than somewhere to put his anger.

He wanted him.

So he closed the distance and kissed him.

Softly.

Tentatively.

Nothing like the bruising, thoughtless kisses he’d shared with men before. Nothing like the way he’d used to use sex to drown out whatever was eating at him. This was slower. Careful. An unspoken promise that Harrison had nothing to fear from him.

For a heartbeat, Harrison didn’t respond.

Then, the same as he had in the woods, he kissed him back. Jake felt the tension in him instantly. The restraint. The conflict. He looked almost pained, as if arguing with himself even as he pulled Jake closer.

So Jake broke the kiss long enough to breathe. To check. Because he wasn’t a taker. He didn’t force. “You want me to stop?”

Harrison gave a minuscule shake of his head, as if regretting it the second he gave it. So Jake kissed him again to make sure. And fuck. That one wasn’t careful. It was hard, hungry, and inevitable. And Harrison met it, desperation breaking loose as whatever restraint he’d been clinging to finally gave way. He kissed Jake as if it’d been building for far longer than a week.

As if it had been waiting.

So Jake slid his hands slowly over the thick wool of Harrison’s coat. Too many layers. Too much between them. “Christ...”

He then stopped to tug his hoodie over his head, letting it drop where it landed, cold air biting across his skin, raising goosebumps. The chain around his neck shifted as the swallow pendant snapped back to his bare chest. Then, topless, he was back on Harrison again, wanting him the same way. And he pushed the coat from his shoulders, not roughly, but enough to strip away another barrier. His fingers caught on lapels before finding the crisp shirt beneath.

God.

He wanted this man.

And that was the part he couldn’t get his head around. Usually, it was easy. Too much noise in his head? Find someone. Forget it for half an hour. No names that mattered. No promises. Someone to drown everything out before getting on with life. That had always been enough.

Until him.

Because Harrison wasn’t someone Jake wanted to lose himself in. He was someone Jake wanted to know. Someone he wanted looking back at him afterwards.

It was bloody inconvenient.

Bloody terrifying.

Then Harrison slid his hands over Jake’s bare ribs, warm palms moving leisurely across each one before travelling around his sides, and Jake shivered. Because Harrison was feeling him. Tracing his fingertips over muscle, brushing his thumbs over Jake’s ribs before his hands landed on Jake’s waist and tightened, creasing his skin. Holding on.

Fuck.

Jake’s body seemed to wake up everywhere Harrison touched. There was something almost careful about the way he did it. As if he wanted to know what Jake felt like beneath his hands but wasn’t quite sure what he was allowed to do once he found out. And somewhere in the middle of all that, Jake stopped thinking about what he wanted next and started thinking about Harrison instead. What he wanted. What he needed.

How far he was actually ready to go.

So without rushing, Jake hooked a finger beneath Harrison’s tie, loosening the knot and tugging it free, letting it drop somewhere behind them. Usually, that would’ve been the point where things sped up. Clothes off. Hands everywhere. Mouths wherever they could reach. Get naked, get on the mattress and get to the part they were both there for.