Better Than People (Garnet Run 1)

Hi. It’s Simon. What’s your favorite cookie?

Hmm, Simon who? came the reply. But it was followed immediately with a winky face and Simon realized that although it was the first time he’d texted Jack from afar, of course he’d texted him a hundred times while they were in the same room.

He tried to stop smiling, embarrassed that Grandma Jean could read his absurd happiness on his face.

He sent back: Wow, you just gave me a panic attack. But he also sent a wink of his own.

Jack wrote, I know you’re a tough cookie. Mmm speaking of cookies, I like oatmeal.

For a moment, Simon didn’t even notice the second part of the text. No one had ever called him tough before. Told him to toughen up? Yes. To tough it out? Definitely. The thing was that he knew he was tough. He’d never told anyone, but sometimes at the end of the day, when he closed the door on the world and pulled a blanket over his head, he thought: You are so fucking tough. You just did hard shit all day. You are so brave for doing that.

He felt a flush of pride and gratitude that Jack had seen that in him.

Then: OATMEAL??? That’s your FAVORITE cookie??? Whose favorite sweet confection is made of GRUEL?!!!

Daaaaamn, Simon, I love oatmeal in all forms!

WOW. Well, okay, I’ll tell my grandma, but she might not let me hang out with you anymore...

You tell your grandma that I’ll fight her for you.

You’d fight an old lady? Cold-blooded, Matheson.

I’m gonna tell your grandma you called her an old lady, Burke. Now make me some damn cookies.

And then, as if it were as simple as pressing a button, Jack sent a heart. A red, clear-as-day heart that sat there staring at Simon and making him wonder what would happen if he sent one back.

With a trembling finger, he sent the emoji back.

Voop as it sent, and Simon blinked.

Because he hadn’t sent a heart. He’d sent the green-faced vomiting emoji that was next to it.

He dropped his phone.

“Dick pic, dear?” Grandma Jean said sympathetically. “The bits not quite what you’d hoped for?”

“Grandma, no! God.”

He grabbed his phone and scrambled to type: OMG I meant to send the heart! My finger hit the wrong emoji and OMG.

Jack sent back a flurry of crying laughing emojis and then a kissy face. With relief shaking through him and great care in the emoji-choosing arena, Simon sent back one perfect heart.

“Phew,” he said, collapsing on a kitchen stool.

“Just a bad angle, then?” his grandmother drawled impishly.

“You’re a true menace,” he told her. “Oh, and oatmeal cookies.”

She pursed her lips pensively and cocked her head.

“Hmmm,” she said. “Interesting.”

“Is it?”

“Very interesting.”

* * *

They’d been kissing for what felt like hours. Simon’s spine was liquid and his thighs burned from kneeling over Jack on the couch. Every swipe of his tongue against Jack’s, every trail of Jack’s fingertips down his throat, sent a pulse straight to his cock.

He buried his face in the crook of Jack’s neck, the skin there hot and smelling deliciously of Jack. He pressed a kiss to the throbbing pulse in Jack’s throat and felt Jack’s breath hitch.

“Jack,” he whispered.

Jack stroked up his back. “Yeah.”

“I... I...”

Jack eased him back so they were looking at each other.

Simon was burning up. He wanted everything and didn’t know how to ask for any of it.

“Feeling shy, darlin’?” Jack drawled. His eyelids were heavy and there was a flush across his high cheekbones.

Simon shook his head.

“Not...with this.” He pressed his palm to Jack’s chest. “Just...” He gestured to his mouth.

“Easier to touch than to talk?”

Yes. So much easier.

He nodded, relieved Jack understood.

“No problem. I can do the talking,” Jack murmured. “Want me to tell you what you do to me? What I wanna do with you?”

Simon knew it was a choice but he just nodded. He wanted it all.

“Mmm, okay.” He put his hand over Simon’s where it rested on his chest. “You make my heart race. So fucking hot. And knowing that I’m the first one—the only one—to touch you. That you’ve kissed? It’s...” He groaned. “I don’t know. Fucking gets to me.”

He stroked fingertips up the side of Simon’s throat and Simon’s eyelids fluttered. The gentle touches made him squirm in the best way.

“It’s like you’re so sensitive because this is all new and it...” He sucked in a breath through his nose. “It really turns me on to watch you.”

Simon’s breath came faster. Jack’s fingers moved from his throat to his chest, and he brushed his thumbs over Simon’s nipples, watching for his reaction.

First nothing, then Jack pinched and bolts of sensation shot through him, arching his back.

“Damn,” Jack breathed. He did it again and again until Simon was writhing. “Wanna take this off?”

Simon stripped off his shirt. His face was on fire and the flush was spreading down his chest, his nipples standing out, rosy and pert. Jack pinched them again and now that Simon could see it he felt it even more.