Jordan
There were probably worse ways to spend his Saturday night than going out clubbing with Shaun and Drew, but Zac really couldn’t think of any. Even before his breakup with Carly, it had been months since he’d gone out with them, thanks to her disapproval of their partying habits. Maybe a part of him was finally ready to rebel against her protests. For whatever the reason, he now found himself in a noisy, packed club, nursing his fifth or sixth beer while Shaun and Drew tried—and mostly failed—to pick up chicks.
He hadn’t planned to get completely plowed, but it was looking more and more likely. No one wanted to talk to the sad, lonely guy who looked like he might start crying into his beer at any second, and Zac didn’t think he could pretend not to be that guy.
Rather than attempt to be friendly, he resigned himself to getting shitfaced and people watching. It was a strange club, built into an old warehouse in a seedy part of Austin, and it seemed to attract a varied crowd. One face in the crowd in particular kept catching his attention. She stood out, tall and thin like a model… like Carly. That was where the similarity ended, though. Instead of long, stick straight black hair, this girl’s fell in soft blonde curls around her shoulders. And unlike Carly’s permanent, judgmental frown, this girl wore a coy smile. Her outfit left little to the imagination—sequined mini skirt and semi-sheer black tank that revealed a hint of leopard print bra—but somehow the overall effect was sexy, not sleazy.
Zac had to look away when he realized she’d caught him staring. He scurried away from the bar before he could embarrass himself further, slipping into a seat in one of the booths that lined one wall of the club. The way he stumbled and fell into it, not to mention the way he’d gotten caught ogling that girl, only served to prove just how far gone he was. He chugged the rest of his beer anyway, then wished he had the guts to brave the bar for another one.
“Sierra Nevada, right?” A soft, low voice said, holding out a bottle.
Zac nodded and accepted the beer, vaguely registering how large the hand offering it was. The person it was attached to slid into the booth across from Zac, and he realized with a start that it was the girl he’d been shamelessly checking out—only up close, he wasn’t so sure it was a girl. He decided that called for more alcohol, and began chugging the beer she or he had offered.
The stranger laughed softly. “Slow down, sweetheart. Whatever you’re trying to forget can’t be that bad.”
“Yes it can,” Zac replied, pouting. “My friends—who have abandoned me, by the way—only dragged me out here to ‘cheer me up.’ Maybe I want to be miserable.”
“Why would you want that?”
“What do you want after you’ve had your heart shattered into a million pieces?”
The girl… or guy… frowned. “Another drink. I’ll be right back.”
When she—Zac refused to acknowledge the other possibility—returned, she slid into the booth next to Zac and offered him a double shot that looked like whiskey. Not a very girly drink, Zac noted, but he was too busy tossing back his own shots to check for an Adam’s apple.
“Now,” she said, brushing back a piece of hair that had fallen out of Zac’s ponytail. “You wanna talk about it or destroy our livers some more?”
Zac shrugged. He was already seeing two of whoever this person was, so more alcohol didn’t seem like the best idea. Instead, he soon found himself talking, telling this complete stranger the whole sordid tale of how Carly had been his entire life for three years, then left him just before the end of the previous semester—for one of her TAs, no less. Zac was surprised at how easy it was to talk to him, her, whatever. Maybe it was the blue eyes. They were soft and kind, unlike Carly’s icy stare.
Once Zac had poured out his heart, he wanted to get to know this person he was, literally and metaphorically, leaning on. His questions were shrugged off in favor of more general conversation. Zac was disappointed, but even in his drunken state he realized he shouldn’t press.
The two of them talked for a long time anyway, finding plenty of less personal topics, and inching ever close together. At some point, Shaun and Drew walked up, each with a girl who had surprisingly fallen for their lines, and asked Zac if he would be okay to get home on his own. He said yes, even though he wasn’t sure he would. He wanted to introduce them to his new friend, but he couldn’t remember her name—something kind of unisex, maybe with a J, he thought.
Zac noticed the odd looks his friends gave him as they walked away, but he wasn’t at all sure what to make of them. Rather than try to think, he decided to nuzzle Jesse or Jamie or Jean’s neck. She smelled so nice, like vanilla, and her skin was so soft that Zac barely even noticed the almost imperceptible stubble on her jaw.
“Zac, I don’t know if…” Jaden began, trailing off when Zac began to nibble on her neck. “Yeah, you really—really shouldn’t do that.”
Zac pulled back and pouted. “No, it’s fine. I’m used to women not wanting me.”
Jodie laughed nervously. “I doubt that. But I also doubt you’re used to… men wanting you.”
Zac blinked and the man in front of him—Jordan, he remembered, certain that was right—came into focus. Up close, he could see the faint stubble through his makeup and the Adam’s apple that no makeup couple hide. Yet Zac stood by his original assessment—man or woman, Jordan was beautiful.
If Zac were even the least bit more sober, he would have been freaking out. In the back of his mind, he knew he should have been freaking out. But he couldn’t deny how good Jordan smelled or how soft and delicious his glossy red lips looked. He was biting down on the bottom one, no doubt nervous about Zac’s reaction, and Zac wished he were the one biting it.
So he did.
He leaned in and captured Jordan’s bottom lip between his, sucking greedily and shamelessly on it. It did taste good, a mixture of whiskey and cherry. Jordan was the one to deepen the kiss, his forcefulness making Zac wonder how he could have ever mistaken him for a woman, long hair, makeup and skirt aside.
When he felt himself running out of breath, Zac pulled back and panted, “We should… my car…”
It was nearing last call, and Zac knew he was in no condition to drive, but they had to go somewhere. Jordan stared at Zac for a moment, then stood up and held out his hand. “Lead the way.”
Somewhat sheepishly, Zac took Jordan’s hand in his. He knew he should run once he was out the door, but he also knew that he wouldn’t. He’d gotten just enough of a taste of Jordan to want more, even if he was another man. The really, really drunk part of his brain reminded him that Carly had slept with another man. If she could, why couldn’t he?
It was the alcohol talking, Zac decided. He wasn’t into guys. He thought he would have known by now if he was, at least. But he was drunk and lonely, and the way Jordan swished his hips in that skirt was irresistible.
Maybe nothing would happen, though. Maybe he was assuming too much. Maybe Jordan would just walk him to his car and go. As they reached his car and Zac began to fumble in his pocket for his keys, he knew he would have an answer soon.
His keys, naturally, seemed stuck in his pocket. A thick, not at all feminine hand brushed his aside and took its place. Zac groaned when Jordan’s knuckles grazed his cock. He wasn’t hard, not fully, but it wouldn’t take many more little touches like that to get him there. Jordan knew that, Zac was sure. He trailed one long finger up Zac’s length before finally pulling out the keys and jingling them in Zac’s face.
Zac snatched the keys quickly, blushing too hard to meet Jordan’s eyes, and jabbed the unlock button. He opened the back door and practically fell into the seat, leaving the door open.
Jordan chuckle. “You know you’re in the backseat?”
“Mhm,” Zac replied, watching Jordan climb in, long, thin legs first. His eyes caught the tiniest flash of red lace before Jordan adjusted himself. Zac shook his head and forced his eyes back up to Jordan’s face. “I’m, uh, still a little too drunk to drive. We can just sit and… talk… for a while.”
“Talk?” Jordan echoed, scooting closer to Zac and brushing back that one damn strand of hair again.
“Talk, or…” He trailed off and shrugged, once again mesmerized by Jordan’s lips. The gloss was mostly gone now, a little smear remaining just below his bottom lip, but Zac’s mouth still watered at the sight of Jordan’s perfect lips.
Before he even realized what he was doing, Zac had leaned in and pressed his lips to Jordan’s. Just as he’d suspected, they were still delicious. He wasted no time slipping his tongue past them, wanting to taste as much of this strange and beautiful man as he could.
At some point, Jordan’s hand crept down Zac’s side, tickling his ribs, before finally finding its way to his crotch and the embarrassingly large bulge there. He moaned against Zac’s mouth, which made Zac feel a little better about how turned on he was. The more Jordan rubbed him, even with his jeans and boxers in the way, the more turned on he became until he thought he was going to just die right then and there.
He didn’t object at all when Jordan began sliding down his body, somehow managing to curl himself up to fit in the tiny floorboard. Zac knew what was coming next, and although a tiny part of his brain was screaming at him to stop this before it went too far, he really didn’t think he could. He wanted it too much to stop. He had to know what it felt like to be with this man.
Jordan was putting on a show for him, he was sure, but he didn’t mind. He just stared wide eyed as Jordan kissed him through his jeans, then tugged the zipper down with his teeth. Zac lifted his hips to help Jordan pull his jeans down a bit, then pull his dick through the slit in his boxers. He felt self-conscious, wishing he’d worn something nicer than old blue plaid boxers, but he hadn’t planned on any of this happening. How could he have known?
He definitely couldn’t have known how good this man’s mouth would feel on him. It was hot and wet, and his unnaturally pink cheeks hollowed beautifully as he sucked. It was, without a doubt, the best blow job Zac had ever gotten—better than Carly, better than any other girl. He wasn’t really surprised, and he couldn’t stop his hips from thrusting up off the seat, his hand burying itself in Jordan’s hair at the same time. Jordan moaned loudly, the sound vibrating through Zac’s body and causing him to fuck Jordan’s mouth even harder. He was completely shameless, concerned only with getting off.
When he finally did, he could have sworn he felt the orgasm from the top of his head all the way down to his toes. His hips left the seat entirely and he held Jordan’s head in place, forcing him to swallow. Zac realized he probably should have asked first or at least warned him, but he wasn’t sure he was capable of speech. Or would be capable of it ever again.
Zac didn’t even have the energy to tuck himself back into his pants, but thankfully, Jordan took care of that for him, even pressing another soft kiss to his crotch once the pants were zipped and buttoned again. It was a sweet gesture, but Zac felt a little dirty and cheap. He didn’t want Jordan to think he was just using him, but he had no clue where to begin. Getting off had sobered him up just enough to remember that he wasn’t bisexual. Probably. He wasn’t really certain anymore.
Jordan slid back into the seat, his movements fluid and catlike, and practically crawled into Zac’s lap. That was a good start, Zac decided. It made things—what things, he wasn’t yet sure—easier for him, more accessible. He grabbed a fistful of Jordan’s hair and crushed their lips together again. Hesitantly, he let his hand creep up Jordan’s smooth, strong thigh. His skirt was already bunched up, barely covering anything, Zac realized. He let his eyes flicker downward, failing completely at stifling his groan when he saw Jordan’s cock straining against a pair of lacy red panties.
“You don’t… have to do anything you don’t want…” Jordan breathed out against Zac’s lips.
Zac nodded. His brain was screaming at him that this was his chance to get away with his straightness almost intact, but he hand wasn’t listening. It continued to creep up Jordan’s thigh and into his panties. He was big, bigger than Zac, and he didn’t think he had it in him to try to suck him off. A hand job, though, he could manage that. He could manage it well, if Jordan’s moans and whimpers were anything to judge by.
The way Jordan wiggled against him made Zac’s dick swell again, but he tried to ignore that. He could take care of that later. Right now he just wanted to return the favor and even the score a bit. He let his other hand creep up Jordan’s shirt, which was just sheer enough to see his hand’s progress. Zac couldn’t resist slipping his hand into Jordan’s bra, and wasn’t surprised to find that it was more padding than anything else. It ruined the illusion a bit, but then again, the fact that he was jerking Jordan off was a pretty big reminder that Jordan really wasn’t a woman. He pinched Jordan’s nipple anyway, just to see what sort of reaction it would earn him.
“Zac, I…” Jordan gasped out, trembling against Zac. His eyes caught Zac’s for a moment, widening and filling with… something. Zac was still too drunk to be certain what he was seeing. Seconds later, Jordan shook his head and let his eyes flutter shut. His head fell back and Zac understood what he’d been trying to him.
Warm wetness filled Zac’s hand as Jordan trembled even harder against him, a series of beautiful moans falling from his lips. Zac started to panic, unsure what he was supposed to do, not having thought the hand job through all the way. With a soft chuckle, Jordan pulled Zac’s hand up to his mouth and licked it clean, sucking on his fingers obscenely, mimicking his earlier motions. Zac had to close his eyes before the sight of it cause him to come again.
Zac didn’t know how long he sat there with his eyes closed, but when he finally remembered to open them, Jordan had smoothed down his skirt and was patting his hair back into place. Zac had no clue what to say or do now, but thankfully, Jordan seemed to sense his nervousness and gave him a soft smile.
“Listen, I took a cab here, but I’m pretty sober now… if you need me to drive you back… I know we just met, but I’m a good driver. I can call myself another cab once I get there. And I promise I’m not a serial killer or a rapist.”
It felt like something of a brush off to Zac, like Jordan wanted rid of him. But what else could they do? Zac wasn’t sure he wanted to go any further than they had; he wasn’t sure if, when he was sober, he would be happy they’d gone that far. Letting Jordan take him home and drop him off seemed like a good idea.
Finally, Zac shrugged. “Yeah, alright. You don’t look like a serial killer… or a rapist…”
“Can’t rape the willing,” Jordan replied, smirking a little. He held out his hand. “Keys?”
Zac handed him the keys, then shamelessly stared as Jordan climbed into the front seat, giving Zac an excellent view of his panty-clad ass as he did so. As Jordan started the car, Zac settled into the backseat and rattled off directions to his apartment. The backseat was comfortable, and he had a feeling he’d be asleep there before the short drive was over. Sleep sounded like a great idea right then. Sleep now, he decided, and worry about redefining his sexuality in the morning.