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dysonrules Public transportation; always an adventure, even in a conservative, relatively boring place such as Seattle. I rarely spoke to anyone on metro buses, other than the occasional lost traveler asking for directions or a vagrant wheedling for spare change while perfuming the air with an alcoholic taint. I had never encountered anyone particularly memorable, until the day I met him. I sprawled in my usual place on the hindmost seat of the bus, flipping through the tune list on my mp3 player, oblivious to fellow commuters until he got on the bus at Third and Pine. I noticed him immediately for several reasons, the most memorable of which was his hair. It was silver-blond and nearly concealed his eyes in a thick cloud. A black cord was visible above the v-neck of his t-shirt, reminding me vaguely of a collar. He looked as though he had stepped from the pages of a manga, or a popular video game.
His shirt was the next thing I noticed, since it was identical to mine, a fact he noted, as well. He pointed an index finger at me while his lips curved into a wide smile that revealed perfect white teeth.
“Dude,” he said, drawing the word out like a stereotypical surfer. “Killer concert, wasn't it?”
He threw himself onto the seat next to mine, careful not to spill coffee from the paper cup he held. I smiled back. “Yeah, it was awesome. Did you have good seats?”
He shrugged. “They were all right. Yours?”
“Pretty good. I had a great view of Burke’s guitar solo. Man, I couldn’t hear for two days.”
He laughed. “Same here. They really rocked.”
I nodded and turned back to my mp3. Bus conversations had to be kept to a minimum, or they would turn uncomfortable quickly. I was sorry, though, as I would have liked to chat with him longer. Much longer. He leaned his head against the window and dozed, after tucking his coffee cup between his legs for safekeeping. I studied him surreptitiously. He had long legs, encased in nice-fitting jeans. The concert t-shirt covered what looked liked a great chest and flat abs. Damn it, he was exactly my type, but I dared not talk to him again. His stop came before mine and he waved as he shouldered his backpack and departed. I watched him through the back window until the bus rounded a corner and disappeared. I wished I had at least asked his name.
To my extreme surprise, he rode the very next day. Normally people cycled through the bus and out, never to be seen again. He smiled and nodded as he took a seat farther away this time—the damned thing was packed. Encouraged, I raised my hand in a vague wave and hoped he would become a regular.
Luck seemed to be on my side, for once, and I saw him the next day, also. Even better, the seat next to mine was open and he took it.
“Hey,” he said and took a drink of his ever-present coffee.
“Hi,” I replied. “You riding every day, now?”
“Yeah. Until my car is fixed, anyway. Transmission went out.”
I winced in commiseration, but I secretly hoped it would be a time-consuming repair. A large group of giggling teens got on at the next stop and took the remaining seats. He was jostled into me by large, evil-looking blond girl. Her repeated bouncing, rude bumping, and loud, obnoxious conversation soon had him practically in my lap trying to escape her. The bus swerved and he nearly fell over me before he sat back with a nervous laugh.
“Good thing I already finished my coffee,” he said. “Now that I’ve molested you, I suppose I can tell you my name.” I managed not to blush even though the heat of his thigh burned into mine. “I’m Donovan.”
I took the hand he offered and grinned. “Was it good for you? I’m Jake.”
His cheeks suddenly tinted and I had to look away before an uncomfortable physical reaction revealed my interest. Damn, but he was attractive. The annoying teens exited at the next stop and Donovan quickly put some distance between us. I was both relieved and disappointed.
A couple of days later, the bus was late. Rain had been pouring down in buckets all afternoon. When Donovan sat down beside me, he was drenched. His hair was plastered against his head in dark blond streaks that dripped water. He looked like a drowned rat—but much prettier. The standard paper cup was clenched in his hand but I could tell it was empty.
“I would have warned you the bus was late if I had your number,” I said wryly. “At least you could have found a drier place to wait until we got closer.” His stop had no shelter from the weather.
“Where’s your phone?” he asked as water trickled from his hair over his fine cheeks. I fished my phone from a pocket and handed it to him. He typed in his number and handed the phone back. I felt a strange lurch of pleasure, knowing I could now contact him even if he never took public transit again.
I dialed the number immediately and chuckled when his phone rang—no fancy song, just a generic ringtone, I noted. I flipped my phone shut before he reached for his.
“There,” I said. “Now you have mine, too.” I looked at my phone and grimaced before I put it away. “Damn it, whenever this bus is late I miss my train. I have thirty minutes to kill until the next one.”
Donovan’s usual stop approached. “Want to get a drink?" he asked. "My connections run every ten minutes, so I’m in no hurry.”
I blinked at him, hardly able to believe my ears. A drink? With the man of my dreams? “Sure,” I managed with a casual shrug.
We exited the bus together and walked half a block in the pouring rain to a nearby tavern. He tossed his empty coffee cup into a bin on the way.
“Ever been here before?” he asked as we entered the dimly lit place. It was fairly crowded for a Thursday.
“No,” I said, not bothering to tell him that my boring daily routine seldom deviated. Donovan walked to a table near the wall—a small one with two tall stools—and took a seat after slinging his backpack over the chair. He ordered a dark local brew and I nearly winced. It was a manly drink. I had secretly hoped he would order a wine spritzer and confess his love for me. I mentally smacked myself for the stupid thought and requested a martini from the busty waitress. Her eyes caressed both of us equally and Donovan grinned at me.
“I think she likes you,” he said.
“She’s not my type,” I said dryly. At his quizzical look I added truthfully, “I like blonds.”
He laughed and I decided his laugh was just as adorable as the rest of him. Loud cheering erupted when a baseball game returned from a commercial break and made conversation nearly impossible. I wished we had found a quieter place. All too soon my drink was gone and I hurried out to catch my train without discovering anything about him other than his preference in beer.
I was surprised to see him the following Monday. I was certain his car would have been fixed by then. He looked awful—as if he hadn’t slept in days. His usual coffee cup was missing.
“You look like shit,” I said helpfully.
“I went to bed at 3 am and got up at 5:30,” he said. “Six cups of coffee did not help at all.”
I felt a bitter flare of jealousy, wondering what could have kept him up until 3 o’clock in the morning. It was probably better I didn’t know, since it was most likely female. “Well, then, you look great for having only two hours of sleep.” He smiled wanly and leaned his head back to shut his eyes. He could not possibly rest in that position—bus seats were not made for sleeping unless you were tucked into a corner, and there were no corners currently available. “Here,” I said. “I’ll wake you before your stop, if you want to rest.” I reached out and put an arm around his shoulders to prop his neck on my arm. “You can use me as a pillow just this once. It’s only twenty minutes, but you look like you need it.”
He must have been exhausted, for he only nodded tiredly. Within moments his head rested on my shoulder and his breathing was deep and even. The bus cleared out almost completely at the next stop and I allowed myself to rest my cheek against his head and breathe in the scent of his hair for a tantalizing moment.
I knew I was falling hard, but I didn’t care. Every moment I spent with him was perfection and if moments were all I could have, then so be it.
When his stop approached I nudged him. He made a sound of protest and then his eyes opened. My god, his eyes were green. I had never noticed before, but it was nearly a shock when they were so wide and near and his lips were close enough to kiss. He pushed himself away roughly and fumbled for his backpack.
“Thanks,” he muttered and started out. I felt a moment of panic, wondering if he had seen something too obvious in my gaze. But then he paused at the steps, turned, and gave me a brilliant smile before hopping out and away.
That was the last time I saw him on the bus. I often pulled up his number on my phone, tempted to call, but what would I say? I’m glad your car is fixed, but I miss you. Remember me? I’m the guy with the ridiculous crush on you…
In the end, I got on with my life and tried to forget him.
Several weeks later I sat on my couch with my feet propped on the coffee table while I watched some lame-ass reality show, mostly because I was too lazy to hunt for the missing remote. My phone rang and I debated not answering. It was probably my mother. She usually called once a week to make sure I was eating properly and that I still had a job. The phone was a short stretch away, so I snagged it and nearly dropped it again when Donovan’s name came up on the display.
“Hello?” I answered, trying not to sound as though my heart had worked its way into my throat.
“Is this Jake?”
“Yes, of course.”
“I’m not sure you’ll remember me… I’m Donovan, from the bus…”
“Sure, I remember,” I said, trying for casual. “Your car is running again?”
“Yeah, I’m back fighting traffic. Look, this might seem kind of out of the blue, but I was wondering if you were going to the concert at the Gorge this weekend. I remembered you liked rock and…”
I blinked in surprise. “Hell, yes. I wouldn’t miss that concert for anything. Are you going?”
He laughed. “I’m going over with a couple of friends. I’d drive over myself, but my car isn’t the most reliable thing on the planet. I’m not completely sure it will make it over the pass. Anyway, I thought maybe we could hook up over there. Fellow headbangers and all.”
I tried to suppress a thrill at the words ‘hook up’. It was one of those phrases that had multiple meanings. “That sounds great. You’re riding over with friends?”
He laughed again and I suddenly realized how much I had missed the sound. “I’m not looking forward to the ride, actually. My friends Mark and Jennifer are in love and they spend most of the time cooing at each other and using these horrible pet names. Seriously, it is only their taste in music that makes them tolerable.”
“I’m driving over alone,” I said an instant before the brilliance of an idea hit me. “Hey, would you rather come with me? I promise not to coo or call you any pet names.”
“Are you sure? Man, that would be fab.”
“Absolutely. I could use the company. We can meet up with your friends once we get over there.”
Plans were quickly made and when we hung up I thought I might burst from glee.
I picked him up on Saturday morning and he looked even more gorgeous than I remembered. He could have walked from the pages of a magazine, although he wore nothing fancier than jeans, a t-shirt and a hoodie. He grinned at me as he slid into the leather passenger seat. Never had I been so glad for giving in to the urge to buy a decent SUV. I hated to commute in the gas hog, which was why I rode trains and buses.
“Nice ride,” Donovan said.
“Thanks.”
It was a three-hour drive to the concert venue, but the day was beautiful and warm. I had been half-hoping that spending time with Donovan would ease my crush, but the more I learned about him the more I liked him. We had more in common than I would have expected, including a surprising love of the outdoors, and hiking in particular. Tentative plans were made to have a future hiking trip to the Olympic peninsula and my mind spun with fantasies of sleeping next to him under the stars. I vowed to keep him close as a friend, even if it meant living with the pain of unrequited desire forever.
His laugh was infectious and he had a wicked sense of humor. We made fun of other drivers and told each other tales of friends and coworkers. The drive sped by and was over too soon. When we reached the Gorge, I parked while he dialed his friends.
“They stopped for lunch and won’t be here for an hour,” Donovan said in a disgusted tone. The afternoon shadows were growing and the concert would start soon. I was not sorry to monopolize his company for a while longer. We purchased a bottle of wine and staked out a spot in which to watch the concert. The amphitheatre overlooked the Columbia River and was a beautiful spot in itself. I spent more time watching Donovan than the bands when they came out and began to play. His friends showed up after we were pleasantly buzzed. They were friendly enough, although the girl watched me warily, as though I planned to kidnap Donovan and steal him away from them forever. I only wished I could.
Donovan turned out to be affectionate and almost clingy when he drank. His wit seemed to sharpen and he often leaned on my shoulder to whisper an amusing comment into my ear. I soon found myself listening almost exclusively to him instead of the music.
Jennifer did not find him nearly as entertaining as I did. “Van, I think you’ve had enough to drink,” she warned, but her boyfriend, Mark, laughed at her.
“Come on, Jen. He’s not driving and you know he only cuts loose like this twice a year. Give him a break.”
Her lips set in a thin line. “I just don’t want him to get hurt,” she said. For some reason her eyes met mine, as though she issued a challenge. I put an arm around Donovan’s shoulders.
“I’ll take care of him,” I said. My heart nearly leaped out of my chest when he looped an arm around my waist.
“Jake will take care of me, Jennifer,” he said with a hint of an edge. “Since I am apparently five and cannot take care of myself.”
She flushed. “You know what I mean,” she muttered.
“Yeah, I do. Don’t think I’m drunk enough to do anything stupid, all right?”
She nodded, and the moment of tension passed when the music started again and we all sang along. But neither Donovan nor I moved to break our embrace. I tried not to let it affect me. I had cut off my alcohol intake early, since I was driving. Now I was glad of it, otherwise the urge to kiss him might have overridden my higher brain functions. Instead, I merely enjoyed the feel of him against me.
We all agreed to leave before the concert ended, to avoid the rush back to the cars and the resulting traffic jam. Donovan sang loudly all the way to the parking lot. I admit to encouraging him as he had a nice voice, even with the slurring. I didn’t mind him leaning on my shoulder, either.
Donovan refused to go home with Mark and Jennifer, much to my surprise.
“Jake will take me home, won’t you, Jake?” His wide green eyes fixed on me hopefully. I would have agreed to take him anywhere in the world.
“Van, that’s not a good idea. It was nice of Jake to bring you here, but really, you should come with us. You can sleep in the back seat.”
Donovan scowled. “I can’t stretch out in your Honda. Jake’s rig has reclining leather seats.”
I grinned. “He only wants me for my car. Don’t worry, I’ll get him home safely.”
I gave Jennifer my phone number, my address, my insurance information, and a pint of blood before she and Mark finally went on their way. It was almost amusing, but I did not begrudge Donovan the loyalty of his friends. We got into my SUV and headed out. We were not on the freeway long when Donovan leaned over and rested his head on my thigh.
“I’m beat,” he said. “I think I drank too much.”
“I think you drank too much, too,” I replied and yawned, even though I was suddenly wide-awake. I concentrated on the road to keep other things from waking up—things in very close proximity to Donovan’s cheek.
“Are you sure you can make it home without falling asleep?” he asked, twisting his head to look up at me through those gorgeous eyes.
“Well, originally I planned to spend the night over here. I brought sleeping bags so I could camp in the back. A friend of mine has some land near Ellensburg and he lets me park there whenever I’m in the area.”
“Can we do that?”
I blinked at him. “What? Camp out?”
“Yeah. It will be fun. Besides, you’re tired and tomorrow is Sunday. We don’t need to rush back, do we?”
I didn’t take much convincing. The thought of sleeping in close proximity to him was simply too enticing, even if it meant I wouldn’t get a wink of sleep. It took another forty minutes to drive to the property. By then, Donovan was dozing, but he awoke when I stopped the car.
I got out and walked around to open the rear of the vehicle. Before leaving town I had spread my sleeping bags in the back, since I had already planned to stay over and knew I wouldn’t feel up to doing so after the concert. Now I looked at Donovan in concern—there were two sleeping bags, but both were spread flat, one as a base and the other as a blanket. I wondered if I should take the time to zip them back into two units to keep him from getting nervous.
“All prepared, eh?” he asked and then hoisted himself onto the tailgate before kicking off his shoes. “Looks comfy.”
I heaved a sigh of relief. “Yeah, I even have an extra pillow for you.”
“Did you used to be a Boy Scout?”
I laughed. “How did you guess?”
He pulled his t-shirt over his head and I mumbled an excuse about taking a leak before escaping into the trees that lined our parking place. The sight of his bare flesh was too much to take. I acknowledged the stupidity of what I was about to do. I wanted him so badly the mere prospect of sleeping next to him left me half-hard. I drew a deep breath and took a short walk before returning to the SUV. The moon was full and cast bright light over everything. All I could see of Donovan was his blond hair on the pillow. I hoped he was already asleep.
I climbed into the rig and disrobed down to my boxer briefs before closing the tailgate and rear window. The night was still fairly warm, but it would get cold before morning. I slid beneath the top sleeping bag, glad that the vehicle was large enough for both of us to sleep without touching.
I looked over to see Donovan’s eyes open. “Hey, Jake?”
“Yeah?” I asked.
“Have you ever thought about kissing a guy?”
My heart nearly stopped at the question and I wondered what had prompted it. Had I been too obvious, watching him? “Yeah,” I replied with a short laugh. I’ve thought about it every twelve seconds since I met you.
“Seriously?” He sounded surprised. “Most straight guys would never admit that.”
“I’m not most straight guys,” I replied. “In fact, I’m not a straight guy at all.” It was something of a relief to say it, although it was accompanied by a burst of pure terror. I heard Donovan draw in a breath.
“You’re not?”
“Not with you around,” I muttered and then I could not even breathe, because he suddenly levered himself forward and pressed our lips together. I thought I must have slid into a dream, until his tongue played over mine. My hands moved of their own volition and touched his silken hair. His fingers moved across my bare skin and I felt him tremble. He broke the kiss with a gasp.
“God, I never imagined… I mean, I imagined, but I never thought you…” I was impressed that he managed nearly coherent sentences. I wasn’t certain I could do much more than pant with need. I pulled him back into a kiss and then rolled over to show him just how interested I was. His skin was delightfully bare, except for the thin fabric that covered his loins. I felt a surge of molten heat when his erection brushed against my hip, until I shifted and it rubbed over mine.
He pulled his lips away and moaned softly.
“I’ve wanted you for so long,” I murmured. “Since the moment we met.”
“Jake,” was all he said.
I moved my hands over every part of him I could reach, caressing the flesh I had craved for so long—back, ribs, buttocks, thighs… and finally the hardness that pressed into me while he made soft noises of desire. I flung the covers away roughly, needing to see him. “Donovan, you’re gorgeous.”
We kicked away the last barrier of clothing between us and kissed passionately, rubbing deliciously against each other while our hands roamed freely. I still could not quite accept that he was in my arms, willing and meeting my ardor with his own.
“How do you want to…?” I asked. The how did not concern me—as long as he was touching me I was blissfully happy.
“I want you inside me,” he replied in an uneven tone. “Please.”
God. I had never heard more erotic words in my life. I touched him then, fingering his tight opening in delicate circles, earning another gasp. I paused long enough to reach over his head to tear at a small bag I had stowed. I unzipped it and quickly located the flavored lube and a condom.
Donovan blinked at me when I held them up for his inspection. At his questioning look I said, “I knew I’d need the lube tonight, except I thought I’d be stroking myself raw with my own hands, thinking about you.”
“I’d like to watch you do that one day,” he said huskily and I nearly came right then. Judicious pressure applied beneath the head of my cock stopped that nonsense, thankfully.
“It’s a date,” I said hoarsely. He brushed my hands aside and slid the condom over my cock before rolling it down gently with his fingers. “The condom, well, that was just in case a miracle happened… and it apparently has.”
He smiled and then lay back before lifting himself slightly and spreading his legs—one on either side of my hips—even wider. My pulse thudded crazily to see him spread out wantonly, like a dessert buffet all for me. I squeezed some of the cool lubricant onto my fingers and then reached down to circle his hole once more. His chest hitched slightly, probably from the chill of the gel. At my raised brow he nodded and I carefully pushed one finger inside. I kept my eyes on his face, glad of the bright moonlight that revealed his features. He bit his lip slightly and I pressed harder before sliding the digit in and out in a gentle massage. He relaxed almost completely, so I slipped another inside before repeating the motion. It was rare that I spent so much time on preparation, but he was worth the extra effort. From the liquid expression in his eyes, he had no complaints.
I wasn’t sure if he could take another and I shook with the effort of holding back the need to bury myself inside him, but he softly murmured, “More.” I groaned and complied. I was close to losing it between his writhing movements and the feel of him on my fingertips. I had never been so hard just watching, but fuck if he wasn’t beautiful. His cock glistened with precome and twitched with every movement.
I withdrew my fingers slowly and leaned forward to press a kiss on his lips before sliding my throbbing length into him, marveling at his incredibly tight heat. He panted against my lips and I tasted him again while my hands gripped his hips. My feet were planted against the wall of the SUV, providing leverage that I used to my advantage as I pushed deeper. When I was balls deep I paused, overcome. His hands moved over my back and finally cupped my buttocks, squeezing lightly, silently urging me to move.
I obliged, pulling nearly out before pressing forward again, slowly at first to accustom him to the movement, and then faster. He made an adorable huffing sound with every thrust and his breath ghosted over my cheek between the kisses he placed on my lips. Thankfully, he was just as close to coming as I was, for it only took a few frantic strokes before he stiffened and cried out. He shuddered deliciously beneath me and I felt wet heat splash against my abdomen. The clenching tightness around my cock was more stimulation than I could bear and I made a wordless sound of pleasure as I emptied myself into him. My vision went nearly white from the force of it.
I dropped bonelessly over him, breathing hard, although it was more from emotion than exertion.
“That was amazing,” I said and held him tightly as I pressed kisses into his neck.
“Almost worth the wait,” Donovan said.
I bit him teasingly. “Almost?” I murmured.
“It was a very long wait,” he explained. “I think it will take a few more sessions to make up for it.”
My arms tightened around him at the thought of a few more sessions and the thankful realization that he wanted more than a single encounter. “Good idea,” I said silkily. I rolled off of him and used my discarded t-shirt to wipe us clean before lying next to him. To my delight, he curled into to me and allowed me to spoon against his back. My previous lovers had nearly always pulled away to avoid cuddling. More and more Donovan seemed like my perfect match. I nuzzled his fine blond hair and held him close.
Before I drifted off to sleep I heard him murmur, “Better than coffee.”
I smiled.