Stupid Question

Copyright November 18, 2006
by Matthew Haldeman-Time

I write about men having sex with other men.  You must be eighteen or older to read my fiction.  This site is for consenting, responsible adults only.

Author's note: This story is a sequel to "Incredible."



            “Hey, Langley,” Pete said, walking into the bathroom.

            “Jones,” Trent said, grinning.  “How’s it going?”

            “Not that bad,” Pete said, glancing at Jason with uncertain curiosity.  “You guys, uh, going out tonight?”

            Following Pete’s gaze, Trent smiled.  “Jason’s friends are throwing a party.”

            “Oh,” Pete said.  “Have a good time.”

            “Sure thing,” Trent said, as Pete went over to the urinals.

            Sharpening his eyeliner pencil, Jason briefly rolled his eyes.  His black shirt stretched tightly across his chest, stopping just below his nipples, leaving the rest of his torso bare, his transparent black mesh sleeves so long that they reached almost to his polished black fingernails.  Trent kept wanting to touch him, to stroke his slender back, to kiss his naked stomach.  His pants and boots were both of black leather, with chains and straps and buckles that Trent wanted to tug on to bring him closer.

            While Jason fixed his hair and make-up, Trent sat on the next sink, watching.  The sight of Jason grooming himself was both exotic and erotic to Trent, who loved to observe the process, the details of it.  Never having worn make-up himself, never having seen another guy put it on, Trent was mystified by how it happened, the subtle tricks of it, Jason’s skill.

            “Butch has three dates lined up for tonight,” Trent said, watching Jason line his eyes in black.  “Two of them are from the same sorority.  We’re taking bets on how early into the night he’ll get his balls kicked in.”  He liked how steady Jason’s hand was.  “He’s supposed to meet Tara at ten at her dorm, Karen at ten-thirty at her apartment, and Nikki at eleven at some party.”

            “Langley,” Rick said, coming into the bathroom.  “What’s up?”

            “Hey, how are you doing?” Trent asked.  “You going to be around tomorrow?”

            “Yeah, come by my room, we can hit the court,” Rick said.  “Jason, you want to play?”

            “No,” Jason said dryly, not even glancing away from the mirror.

            Trent grinned at Rick.  “Catch you later.”

            “Yeah,” Rick said, ducking around to the showers.

            Jason uncapped his mascara.

            “We’ve told Butch that all he’s going to get is three pissed-off girls and nasty looks from their friends, but he’s convinced that he’ll at least get a three-way out of it.”

            “And crabs,” Jason muttered.  Blinking a few times, he looked at his reflection, studying his handiwork.

            “Probably,” Trent admitted.  He’d heard a few things about Karen that increased the likelihood.  “Hey, Jim.”

            “Hey, Langley,” Jim said, coming over to wash his hands.  “You guys going to the same party?” he asked, looking them over with a grin.

            “Jason’s friends are throwing a party,” Trent said.  “I’m staying in tonight.”

            “Staying in?” Jim repeated, as if he didn’t recognize the concept.  “You should go out.  We’re all going over to the row, and then over to Callahan’s.”

            “I don’t know,” Trent said.  “Maybe I’ll check it out later.  I’ve been so busy with the team, now that the season’s over, I want to take some time off.”

            “Must’ve been hard work, winning all of those championships,” Jim said, grinning.

            “Hey, I do what I can,” Trent said.

            “We appreciate it,” Jim said, heading for the door.  “See you later.  Come to Callahan’s!” he called over his shoulder as the door swung shut.

            “You should go,” Jason said, pushing his red-streaked bangs from his face.

            “Maybe tomorrow night.”  Going out always meant getting drunk and acting stupid, and he was still used to his strict season regimen of treating his body well; he wasn’t ready to go out consistently.

            Jason shrugged, picking up his lipstick.  “Last chance.  If you want to kiss me, do it now.”

            “I want to kiss you all of the time,” Trent said, slipping down from the sink and drawing him closer.  Jason’s skin was cool and smooth, and when he rose onto his toes a bit, Trent kissed him, hands tightening on his waist and pulling him in, licking into his mouth and making him moan.

            Hearing Jason moan really turned Trent on, and he slid one hand down to cup Jason’s ass, lifting a bit, loving the feel of Jason’s body against his, kissing-

            “Whoo!  That’s it, man, you get yours,” someone said, clapping.  “Very nice.”

            Breaking their kiss, Jason turned around and flipped Brett off, giving him a dark look before uncapping the lipstick.

            “Oh, sorry, did I interrupt?” Brett asked, grinning.  “Hey, are you going out tonight?”

            “Probably not,” Trent said, leaning against the sink again, watching Jason darken his lips.

            “Great, then you won’t need to pay for anything.  Can I get five bucks?”

            “No,” Jason said.

            “I was asking Trent,” Brett said.

            “No,” Jason said.  “He’s too nice to tell you no, so I’m doing it for him.”  Tucking everything back into his make-up case, he checked his pockets for his keys and wallet as Brett gave up and headed for the door.  “You’re going to hang around here?” he asked, glancing up at Trent.

            “Yeah.”  Sliding his hands over Jason’s slim waist, he stepped in closer, ducking his head and kissing the side of Jason’s neck.  “Is that okay?”

            “Yeah.”  Jason’s hand rubbed up the back of his neck and into his hair, ruffling what had grown in since the end of the season.  “Don’t wait up or anything.”

            He smiled, kissing Jason’s cheek.  “I won’t.”  His hands slid up Jason’s naked back; he really wanted to take Jason to bed.  “You should wear this more often.”

            “Not in public.”  Ringed fingers slid down Trent’s cheek and across his lips, and then Jason twisted away, backing up.  “See you later.”

            “Bye,” Trent said, catching him and kissing near his mouth and releasing him.  “Have fun.  Tell everybody I said hi.”

            Pushing his bangs out of his eyes, Jason nodded and left.

            The door swung shut.

            Trent picked up Jason’s make-up bag and went back to the room.



            When Jason got downstairs and outside, Katie and Brad were already there, waiting for him.  “Sorry.”

            “It’s okay, we just got here,” Katie said, and the three of them began to walk, fishnet stockings peeking out from under Katie’s long, black coat, Brad humming tunelessly to himself.  “Nice shirt.”

            Jason shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest.

            “How’s Trent?  I was kind of hoping you’d bring him.”

            Jason snorted.  He couldn’t imagine bringing Trent to this party.  Couldn’t imagine lining Trent’s striking green eyes with black, couldn’t imagine zipping Trent into black leather.  He’d just left Trent in jeans and sneakers and a swim team T-shirt, looking healthy and athletic and terrifyingly normal.  Wholesome; Trent was very wholesome.

            That was his dorm, Jason’s dorm, but Trent knew everyone there, everyone on Jason’s floor, all of the guys, their names, their girlfriends, their hobbies.  He said hello to them and played basketball with them and borrowed their videogames.  He was friendly, and everyone liked him, and everyone thought that he was just super.

            It freaked Jason out.  He wasn’t used to jocks and joiners; he usually kept his distance.  And, normally, they did the same.  But now, now that he was Trent Langley’s boyfriend, the other swimmers said hi to him on campus and talked to him in the dining hall.  Some of them had even started to come by his room to look for Trent.  They clapped him on the shoulder and called him by his last name.

            It was weird, to be included.  He often tried not to be included - - he was curt, he was rude, he was off-putting - - but they either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

            Trent should’ve been with one of them, someone like them, someone athletic and tanned who wore clothing emblazoned with the names of sports teams.  Someone who liked to party and liked to sweat and said “dude.”  Not someone generally antisocial who wore make-up.  If Trent dated someone who wore make-up, it should be a girl, a girl with shell-pink lipstick that smudged when she licked his lollipop.

            “What’s your problem?” Katie asked after they’d passed a few more buildings.

            “I’m in love and that scares me.”  Flipping his bangs out of his eyes, he wished that he hadn’t just said that.  “He doesn’t belong with me and I’m not right for him.”

            “He’s in love with you,” Katie said.  “He’s even more into you than we are.”

            “I like Jason,” Brad said.

            “Yeah, but you don’t have that goofy, starry look in your eyes whenever he’s around,” Katie said.  “I’ve checked, and Trent can have anyone he wants,” she told Jason.  “He’s in love with you.  He lights up around you.  He looks at you all of the time like most guys only look at me when I agree to give them head.”

            He had to admit that Trent really did seem to like him.  Trent was affectionate and attentive and interested; they spent a lot of time together, and Trent always seemed happy to see him.  Trent seemed to get him, too, to understand him, to respect him - - Trent had never even subtly pushed him to change.  It wasn’t like Trent wanted him to be more athletic or more outgoing; it also didn’t seem like Trent wanted to emphasize their differences and drag him around like some exotic freak on display.  Trent just liked him, even when he wasn’t all that likable.

            “He’s not in love with me.”  The subject hadn’t come up.  They’d been boyfriends for a few months now - - Trent had asked him, and he hadn’t been able to say no - - and they were together a lot.  But that was a relationship, not love.  He was in love, he’d been in love with Trent for a while, he found Trent irresistible, his heart still pounded whenever Trent walked into a room, he still felt lightheaded when Trent smiled at him, he still got hot and desperate and hungry when Trent fucked him.

            “He is,” Katie said.  “Ask him.”

            He wasn’t going to ask.  He’d never been happier in his life; he wasn’t going to fuck that up by asking stupid questions.



            Now that Jason’s roommate spent more time at his girlfriend’s apartment, Trent got to sleep in Jason’s bed more often.  Happy to take advantage of that, Trent decided to hang out and relax until Jason got back.

            After reading a few chapters for Monday’s class, he watched TV.  He got a call from one of the guys from the team, whose couch Butch, now dateless, had passed out on.  Apparently, Butch was such a great catch that all of the girls had decided to drop him entirely rather than share him with each other.

            Promising to go to tomorrow night’s party, Trent hung up.  Crawling into bed, he smiled at Jason’s scent.  He missed Jason, and his hand almost automatically crept down to his groin, cupping his dick.  Fondling himself, tugging a little, he closed his eyes, rolling onto his stomach, raising his hips a bit and biting on his lower lip.  Jason flooded his mind, the paleness of Jason’s skin in the dark, the soft pink of Jason’s lips, the intensity of Jason’s dark eyes, the high curves of Jason’s ass, the hard length of Jason’s erection.  Licking his palm, he pretended that Jason was touching him, that it was Jason’s hand on him, that Jason was jacking his dick, that Jason was about to go down on him, that he was about to feel that soft, wet mouth, that, uh, yeah, oh, “Jason, yeah, god, oh…”  Groaning as the need for it became too great and pleasure rippled up through him, Trent came in his hand, spilling cum onto the sheets.

            Flopping onto his back, Trent sighed, looking up at the ceiling.  He glanced at the clock, and grinned.  Jason would get back soon.  He could wait.



            Trent had said that he’d stay, but there’d been no real reason for him to, and it did funny, hot, twisting things to Jason’s insides to come back and find him there, in bed, asleep.

            Quietly closing the door, Jason clicked on the weak lamp on his desk.  Trent was too tall for his bed, too long, and had scrunched up on one side, the sheet sliding off onto the floor.  Jason loved him, wanted him, wanted to keep him, wanted to climb right on top of him and kiss every inch.

            Taking off his boots, taking off his socks, Jason saw Trent’s clothes puddled together on the floor by the foot of the bed.  Underwear included.  Which meant that Trent was naked in his bed.

            “How was the party?”  His voice sleepy, Trent rolled over, scratching his stomach, kicking the sheet the rest of the way onto the floor.  While the white fabric slipped down, Jason stared at Trent’s long, streamlined, perfect body.  Those firm, smooth muscles.  Those hard pecs.  That perfect, centerfold six-pack.  And, of course, that dick.  Jason curled his fingers in to keep from reaching for it.  “Jason?”

            Snapping back to the moment, realizing that he was supposed to reply to words, Jason undid his fly.  “Didn’t mean to wake you up.”

            “I wanted you to wake me up,” Trent said, scooting back towards the wall to give Jason room.  “C’mere.”

            Leaving his pants on the floor, Jason began to take off his shirt.

            “Leave that on,” Trent said.  “C’mere.”

            “You’re perving on my shirt,” Jason said, sitting on the bed.

            “I’m perving on you.”  Kissing his neck, Trent pulled him down, rolling him onto his back and sliding on top.  “How was the party?”

            “Not bad.”  He closed his eyes, toes curling as Trent pushed his shirt up to kiss his nipples.  The soft licking, the rough suction, flashed heat through his body.  “Everybody asked about you and I really missed you and I came back early.”  Gasping, he ran his fingers through Trent’s blond hair as lean fingers stroked across the front of his shorts.  He was too weak when it came to Trent, too susceptible.

            “I missed you, too,” Trent murmured, rubbing his dick through his underwear.  Tense, shivering, Jason hardened under Trent’s hand, pushing against Trent’s palm.  “Can you do something for me?”

            “I’m about to beg you to fuck me,” Jason said, shuddering, digging his fingers into Trent’s shoulder, rocking up a little into Trent’s hand.  “What else do you want?”

            “Suck my dick first,” Trent said, kissing him, kissing him with mounting hunger.  “Just for a minute, just to get it wet.”

            He should’ve guessed.  Moaning, rubbing into Trent’s hand, he said, between kisses, “You’ve been jacking off.”

            “I wanted you,” Trent whispered, tongue soft as it licked delicately between his lips, as Trent’s fingers slipped up the leg of his underwear and caressed back behind, oh, oh, yes, god, he was on fire, he, oh, “Please,” Trent whispered, stroking, teasing, “Jason, pl-”

            “Like I’d say no,” he muttered, but the words came out shaky, and he couldn’t catch his breath.  Trent kissed him, kissed him with need and gratitude, and when those damned knowing fingers left him, he pushed at Trent’s shoulders and slid down, under Trent, under Trent’s hips.

            Trent made a wordless but aroused sound, on his hands and knees, and as Jason’s hands came up to his waist, his hand came down and grasped his dick, aiming it.

            Licking his lips, Jason stroked Trent’s hips, and when the head of Trent’s erection rubbed over his lower lip, he kissed it, licking around it, making soft hungry sounds, his own dick aching as Trent groaned and said, “Jason,” like it hurt.  Caressing Trent’s long thighs, the trembling muscles, he sucked gently on Trent’s dick, making wet noises, making Trent moan, licking from the head all the way to Trent’s fingers at the base.  “Oh, god, yes, do it, suck it, yes, Jason, please,” Trent groaned, and he cupped Trent’s balls, moaning and sucking harder, letting Trent’s hips rock just a little in a gentle, shallow, urgent, fucking motion.

            When those groans became a bit too heartfelt and there was an edge of desperation in, “Oh, Jason, yes,” Jason pushed him back up, rolling over and crawling back up the bed, rubbing against him, grinding ass to dick, groaning at the heat of Trent’s body all up his back.

            “Mmm, yes, oh.”  Groaning, Trent rocked against his ass, kissing the back of his neck, and oh, yeah, he wanted that, he needed it.  Cursing, Jason spread his thighs, pushing back against Trent’s erection, moaning at the hard length of it, the thickness of it, wanting it inside, wanting it now.  “I need you,” Trent groaned, “I need you, god, Jason, I need it.”  He felt his underwear being pulled down, peeled down, and Trent was groaning, louder and louder, and Trent was stroking his ass, stroking the cleft, caressing him, teasing him, “Jason, god, now, now, I need you.”

            Hot from his own passion, responsive to Trent’s, Jason rolled onto his back, lifting his legs and kissing Trent, kissing passionately, moaning helplessly as lean, slick fingers pushed into his body.  Groaning, writhing, he dug his fingers into Trent’s back, making desperate, urgent, “uh uh ah ah uh” noises, burning with need, aching from the fullness of his dick.  He just wanted to come, just wanted to be fucked, just wanted Trent.

            “That’s it, yeah, that’s it, oh, god, Jason, yeah, yes, yes, god,” and Trent was in, pushing, stretching, thrusting deep and then deeper, fucking him.

            Twisting under him, Jason gripped his shoulders, moaning, burning hotter, hotter.  “Harder,” oh, yes, yes, “harder,” Trent, it felt so good, it felt so good, he was filled with it, he was exploding from it, he was going up in flames, each pounding thrust was only fuel on the fire, “uh, yes, ah, Trent,” he felt Trent’s hand on his dick and that was it, climax came like a fireball, scorching him, and he was coming, groaning, gasping, coming, shaking.

            “God, Jason, yes, oh, yes,” and Trent’s hips slammed forward, dick driving deep into his still shuddering body.  He cried out, overwhelmed, as Trent came, as Trent shook and called his name, face flushed, lips parted, eyes bright.



            He’d made Jason come again, and then he’d fucked Jason again, and now he was licking at Jason’s hard little nipples, a tantalizing dark pink.  Jason was making aroused, exhausted, stop-don’t stop sounds, stroking his hair and twitching a little.

            He loved fucking Jason, loved getting Jason off, loved how well they knew each other, loved how responsive and generous Jason was, loved the way Jason moved and tasted and wanted him.

            He wanted Jason, wanted Jason from somewhere deep in his bones, wanted Jason in a way that was very real and very consistent and very hard to control.  But it wasn’t all about sex, never had been.  He’d been drawn to Jason from the beginning, had liked Jason from the start, had been attracted in an emotional, intellectual, romantic way.

            They’d been together for months now, and Jason had been there for him, had been at each meet, had been proud of his wins, had been there through the championships, had been very available for sex, had been awkward and taciturn and sarcastic around his friends, had reminded him to keep studying, had reminded him to take time for fun, had made him smile, had made him laugh, had given him what he’d needed.

            Smoothing the black shirt back down and stroking Jason’s nipple through it, which made Jason whimper and kiss his mouth, Trent decided to say it.  “I’m in love with you.”

            Jason stopped kissing him back.

            Kissing Jason’s jaw, Trent kept his gaze lowered.

            Jason cleared his throat.

            Trent smiled against his neck, nuzzling gently.

            “Oh,” Jason said.

            “I love you,” Trent whispered, grinning, kissing his ear.

            Jason’s fingers ran through his hair.  Jason kept touching his hair, kept petting it, now that it was growing back.  “Thanks.”

            “You can go ahead and say it back to me,” Trent said, raising his head and looking down into Jason’s dark eyes with amusement.  Jason kept things inside.  Kept things pent up until some of them just came tumbling out without permission.  But there were so many things that he didn’t say.  So many small ways he gave himself to Trent that could only be love.  Jason wouldn’t want to admit it, but, “I know that you love me.”

            Right on cue, Jason scowled, becoming contradictory.  “You don’t know that.”

            He grinned.  “Do you love me?”

            Uneasily avoiding his gaze, Jason stopped stroking his hair, hand dropping to his upper arm.  “You can’t just ask me.”

            “Do you love me?” Trent asked, running his fingers over Jason’s bracelets.

            “It’s, it’s not, you…”  Jason stammered, distressed, faltering, his normally pale cheeks a rosy pink.  “I’m already your boyfriend, I give you my ass almost every time you ask for it, you don’t have to say random shit to make me feel better.”

            “I’m not saying it to make you feel anything,” Trent said.  “I’m saying it because it makes me feel good to be this honest with you.”  He brushed his lips over Jason’s, still smiling, unable to stop.  “I love you.”

            “I love you.”  Defiantly, Jason met his eyes, as if daring him to react.  “I’m in love with you.  I wasn’t going to tell you because I didn’t want you to feel compelled to say it back, because I’ve been kind of intense about you for a while, and I didn’t want to push you into anything, because you’re a really nice guy and I didn’t want to take advantage of that.  But I’m in love with you, and I don’t care who knows about it.”

            Rolling onto his side, bringing Jason with him, Trent wrapped his arm around Jason’s waist, kissing those soft, stubborn lips.  “I know.”

            Jason kissed back, and Trent kissed him, stroking his back, until the tension drained out of him, until the defiance and anxiety dissipated, until Jason was simply whimpering and kissing and melting into him.

            “I love you,” Trent murmured, rubbing his spine.  “Do you love me, Jason?”

            “Oh, god, yes, I’m so fucking in love with you,” Jason breathed, relief vibrating through his voice, slender arms wrapping around Trent’s neck.  Long minutes of slow kisses passed.



            In the morning, as Jason was at the sink again, scrubbing off his make-up, and Trent stood beside him, shaving, Jason gave him a narrow look.  “How did you know?”

            Trent grinned.  “I’ve met you, Jason.  You’d never put up with my lifestyle and my friends if you weren’t in love with me.  The day that Hugh smacked your ass and called you ‘Holtz’ and handed you a beer and asked you if you’d seen the game last night, and you gave him that ‘which planet do you think I’m from’ look and said, ‘No,’ like you were the king of something and he’d asked if you’d seen him take his last shit, I knew that you were in love with me.  You had to be.”

            He couldn’t help but smile.  “Your friends aren’t that bad,” he said, and he even meant it, kind of.

            Trent was still grinning at him.  “Neither are yours.”

            That was fair.  Jason dried his hands.  “How are Butch’s crabs?”



matthew@matthewhaldemantime.com
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