Operation Fake Relationship

They fell into a rhythm as natural as breathing, heat building where skin touched skin. Jackson dipped his head and kissed Nick’s shoulder, his neck, his cheek, before finding his mouth. The kiss was long, deliberate, and perilously sweet. Nick flexed his hips to meet each hard thrust of Jackson’s cock.

I can’t believe we’re doing this. The words repeated a loop in his head. How had all those years of friendship led to this?

Jackson started fucking him harder, and the bed creaked in protest.

Nick broke the kiss to whisper, “Slow down. Unless you want people to hear us.”

“Fuck,” Jackson muttered, breath hot on Nick’s cheek. “Okay. I’ll try.” He took his weight on his arms, putting some space between their torsos. His gaze raked over Nick, hot and possessive, sending a thrilling surge of excitement through Nick. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

Nick laughed. “I know. I was just thinking the exact same thing. But we are.” He squeezed his muscles around Jackson as if to emphasise his point, and Jackson groaned.

“Damn. You feel good.”

“So do you. Come on, keep moving. Just do it slowly so nobody will hear.”

Jackson started to fuck him again, rocking into Nick slowly. Each slide of his cock felt deeper than the one before, as though he was trying to reach farther inside with each lazy grind of his hips.

“I’m getting close now,” Nick whispered.

“Me too. What do you need?”

“Nothing. Just this.” Wrapping a hand around his cock again, Nick started to stroke. The tension coiled and built, rising until he couldn’t hold on any longer. “Coming,” he gasped as he spilt between them, the blinding pleasure loosening his grip on reality for a moment as he bit his lip to stop himself from groaning.

“Oh fuck, Nick,” Jackson muttered. “Fuck.” He pushed deep, body shuddering a few times as he came before slumping forwards into Nick’s embrace.

Breathing hard, they lay there in silence. Nick held him tight, not wanting the moment to end. But Jackson was already softening inside him, and too soon he drew back. “Let me get this condom off.”

The wet patch on Nick’s stomach felt cold without Jackson there. “I’d better go and clean up.” He got up and reached for some clothes to put on. In the aftermath he was already questioning the wisdom of what they’d just done. No longer connected physically, he felt the emotional distance between them keenly. There were way too many things being left unsaid, and Jackson had to realise that too.

“Me too. The condom might have saved one wet patch, but I still got your spunk all over me.”

“Not sorry.” Nick managed a convincing grin.

Jackson grinned back, but there was a wariness to his expression that only made Nick feel worse.

They used the bathroom together and got ready for bed. Once they got back under the covers, Nick turned out the lamp. Jackson was on his side facing away from Nick. Did that mean he didn’t want to cuddle? “I’m chilly.” That seemed like a valid excuse. He moved close and fitted his body against Jackson’s. “Is this okay?” he asked as he put an arm around him.

“Yeah.”

“You make a good bed warmer.”

“Thanks… I guess.”

There was a long silence. Nick could feel the lift of Jackson’s ribs, his breathing gradually slowing. “Are you sleepy?”

“Mmmhmm.”

A little later Jackson stirred. “Too hot now,” he mumbled, shifting away from Nick.

Nick rolled to lie on his other side and hugged his pillow instead of Jackson. A lump of anxiety sat in his stomach like cold porridge, and it took him a long time to fall asleep.

Eleven

Jackson woke with a start from a dream where he was riding a bicycle with no brakes down a mountain, trying desperately to stay on the narrow path. Heart pounding, he took a deep steadying breath as reality asserted itself. But then he became aware of Nick lying beside him and his stomach lurched again as he remembered what they’d done last night.

God….

He let the memory of it flow through his mind, a curl of warm joy and excitement rising in his chest before it was swiftly doused with a bucket of emotions that were far less pleasant: regret, self-reproach, and fear mingled in a cold sweeping tide that wiped out all the good feelings without leaving even a trace behind.

The prospect of returning home today shocked him into the realisation of how stupid he’d been. Maybe Nick could handle them having casual sex, or being friends-with-benefits, or fuck buddies, or whatever people called it. But Jackson knew it wasn’t right for him. Being friends with Nick had been manageable before, despite his secret attraction. But now he knew what he was missing, it would be infinitely more difficult.

Sighing, he checked his watch and saw that it was half six. He lay there for a little while, listening to the judgemental voice in his head telling him what an idiot he was, and listing all the ways he’d fucked this up.