Jamie
Instead of getting off me and running the hell away from this freak (i.e. me), Jordan bent over and kissed my lips through my unexplainable, stupidly boyish tears. "Jamie Cry Baby" was my nickname in school, beginning in kindergarten and lasting until...well, let me think...oh never. I just learned how to stop crying in public. Kids always made fun of me, everyone except Tim who didn't laugh at anything. I cried even when there was no good reason to cry or at least that's what my parents said. So why now? Who the fuck knows? Maybe my feelings for Jordan simply overwhelmed me. For the longest time, I believed I'd never feel connected to anyone ever again after Gavin died. And then there was this other part of me that knew this feeling I had for Jordan wouldn't...or couldn't....last forever. I was fairly certain that this little thing we had together was going to be short-lived. There were way too many years between us. Or did that really matter? I don't know...
How could I let this happen? Because I'm Jamie Perron and I always think with my heart and whatever feels good. Just call me "hedonistic Jamie." Story of my life.
"This feels so weird," Jordan said, still sitting on me. With my hands on his waist, I laughed and cried at the same time. Although we had finished, Jordan didn't budge.
"Are you alright?" I asked, sniffing back my tears.
"Uh...yeah," he said, his confusion turning into concern.
"Just ignore me. I'm fine," I said. "I'm okay. Don't worry about me. I'm okay." I brought my fingers to his head of thick damp curls. "You're all sweaty."
"You're all sticky," he said, rubbing my stomach with his hands.
Throughout the night, I came so close to telling him how I really felt, but something stopped me. I must have been really out of my mind, falling in love like this so quickly, even after this little shit spit, shoved, kicked, and bit me. Who was I kidding, anyway? All those things made me fall for him even harder and quicker. Wrapping my arms around him, I rolled him onto his back, finally pulling out of him. He giggled, which made me love him even more.
Leaning against him, my legs stretched out beside his as he held one arm around my waist and the other over my chest. He kissed the side of my head.
"It didn't hurt, you know," he said. "Well, maybe a little, but not like I thought it would."
"Did you think about it a lot?" I asked. "Before we did it? Was it something you thought about a lot?"
"Thinking about what?" he asked. I was sure he knew what I meant.
"Sex," I said bluntly because Jordan often responded best to bluntness.
"No," he said. "Well, maybe I did, but only a little." Turning my head toward him, I looked at him hard with curiosity. He noticeably blushed, so I suspected he had probably been thinking about it a lot.
"You were great," I said. "More confident than I ever was my first time, that's for sure."
"You were taking too long," he said. "To make up your mind, that is. Is it my fault you're sad?"
"I'm not sad," I said. "I just cry easily."
"I've never seen you cry."
"Because you don't know me that well," I said. "Ask Tim. He knows."
"So it's nothing I did?"
"No," I said, squeezing his arm. "You're great, Jordan. Really...don't ever believe you're not." Jordan kissed the side of my face again. "I'm not sad," I said, pulling him into my lap. "Just fucked up."
"I don't think you're fucked up," he said. My hands slid down his back as he pressed his forehead against mine.
"And to think, not too long ago you couldn't stand to be touched," I said. "Now you can't get enough of it." He kissed my forehead with a smile on his lips. Down below, the front door opened and closed. Jordan immediately pulled away from me and jumped off the bed.
"Tim's home," he said. Without looking back, he ran out of the room. Tim really needed to get a life because to me it was a little too early to call it a night. I heard Jordan scamper down the hall, eventually closing his bedroom door. Although tempted to find out how Tim's night went, I decided to stay in my room and draw for awhile. The only vision in my head was Jordan and his dark chocolate eyes. As I put my pencil to paper, there was a knock on my door. Did Jordan come back already? Just in case it wasn't Jordan, I threw the sheets over me, covering my naked body.
"Come in," I said. It wasn't Jordan, but Tim.
"Hey," Tim said.
"Hey," I said. "How was your date?"
"Alright," he said, clearly not willing to further discuss it. "How was Jordan?" As my cheeks burned, I really hoped he didn't notice me blush. Fortunately Tim didn't notice such things.
"Good," I said. "We just hung out and listened to music."
"Him and his music," he said. "I'm glad he wasn't any trouble. Well, I'm going to bed. Good-night."
"Good-night," I said, overcome with guilt as Tim closed my door. I knew he was going to kill me, or worse, possibly end our friendship if or when he found out about us. Like Jordan said, Tim still thought of him as a ten year old kid. He needed him to stay young and dependent on him. He didn't know anything else.
***
As I slept on my stomach, I hugged the pillows to me, only awakening to a voice in my room, a very familiar voice I looked forward to hearing everyday, just not at seven in the morning. Those first few days of my stay he hid upstairs in his room or outside, venturing out intermittently, never at seven in the morning like now. During the school year, I had to get up by six to make it to work by seven. It was summer vacation, though; I didn't have to get up if I didn't want to.
"Do you like the Talking Heads?" That familiar voice I loved so much said. I would have laughed if it wasn't so early and if I hadn't been asleep.
"Huh?" I yawned.
"Talking Heads. My mom loves them. I don't know. I think David Byrne is overrated. I like Psycho Killer and Once in a Lifetime, but I can't stand Burning Down the House. What do you think?"
"I think you talk too much," I said, throwing a pillow at him. "What happened to you, huh?"
"What do you mean?"
"You barely talked when we first met. You hate talking. Isn't it supposed to be really hard for you? Now you don't shut up and talk when I want to sleep." Opening my eyes fully, I smiled, seeing Jordan standing by my bed, wearing a Red Sox t-shirt. I didn't know he was into baseball or any sports for that matter. Here it was, July, and we hadn't watched one baseball game. Frowning, he folded his arms across his chest as if he were annoyed with something I said. "I'm sorry," I said, crawling to him. "I know you don't like to be teased, but sometimes it's fun." The shirt was too big for him, hanging down to his thighs. I wondered if it was his dad's; it was too big for Tim. Looking down his body, I realized he wasn't wearing anything underneath. "Where's the rest of your clothes?" I asked. He just shrugged. "You went downstairs like that?"
"Yes," he said. "I slept in it last night. What? You can't see anything. I mean, it covers everything, right?"
"Yeah, just about," I said.
"So, do you?" he asked as I knelt on the bed in front of him.
"Do I what ?" I asked, pushing his shirt up to his waist, but he pushed it back down, wanting me to focus on this serious question.
"Like the Talking Heads," he said.
"Yes," I said. "Sure, why not?" I was too distracted by his half naked body to give a serious answer.
"That's not a real answer," he said.
"Yes," I said. "They're alight."
"What's your favorite song?"
"Psycho Killer," I said.
"Typical," he said as I slid my hands up the back of his t-shirt.
"What's yours?" I asked.
"Nothing But Flowers," he said.
"Interesting," I said as he swallowed hard, staring back at me almost expressionless as I squeezed his ass. Due to the movement under the front of his shirt, I knew he liked it. At the same time, he just wanted to talk about the Talking Heads and his favorite song.
"It's my mom's favorite," he said. "She used to dance to it in the kitchen. Tim, too...it's his favorite. Can we listen to it?" He picked up my phone off the night stand, quickly finding the song on YouTube. I had a feeling he was going to sing along to it and I couldn't wait. Holding my phone, looking down at it, his head bobbed to the opening riff, a happy mix of bass, bongos, and guitar.
"Here we stand..." he sang the opening line.
"Like an Adam and an Eve
Waterfalls
The Garden of Eden
Two fools in love
So beautiful and strong
The birds in the trees
Are smiling upon them
From the age of the dinosaurs
Cars have run on gasoline
Where, where have they gone?
Now, it's nothing but flowers..."
At the start of the chorus, Jordan danced around the room while singing at the same time. I just lay back on bed, enjoying the view and entertainment.
"There was a factory
Now there are mountains and rivers
You got it, you got it
We caught a rattlesnake
Now we got something for dinner
We got it, we got it.
There was a shopping mall
Now it's all covered with flowers
You've got it, you've got it
If this is paradise
I wish I had a lawnmower
You've got it, you've got it..."
And then the song slowed down again and Jordan moseyed his way back to the bed. Lunging toward him, I pulled him down on the bed with me. "Years ago," he sang with me on top of him, his head hanging off the bed. "I was an angry young man..." My lips trailed down his Adam's apple, which I knew he liked based on his sighs and gasps between lyrics. After his shirt landed on the floor, I took one of his legs and brought it around my waist. In-between kisses, he sang, "You've got it, you've got it..."
"I think you'd give David Byrne a run for his money," I said, but he ignored me as his hands ran up and down my backside.
"If I let you again...I mean, if we ever...well...what we did last night...I don't want you to feel bad about it."
"Yeah, sorry about that," I said. "You did nothing wrong. You were great. Really."
"You want to do it again, right?" he said.
"Yes," I said. Like now.
"Okay," he said. He let out a laugh as I held his ankles, pulling him closer to me so he was no longer hanging off the bed. I hadn't had morning sex in a long time. The last time was probably with Gina several months ago and Jordan was so much different and better than Gina. Jordan covered his face with his hands, muffling his sounds.
"Hey, Jordan," I said with his legs up in the air on either side of me. I took them and rested them on my shoulders. He moaned louder as I leaned forward, pushing deeper into him.
"This feels so good," he said after I removed his hands from his face. I wanted to see him. He kissed my mouth hard, sucking my bottom lip. With another thrust, he bit down on it. By now I had gotten used to what I know referred to as his "loves bites" and looked forward to them, even enjoying them.
His eyes remained fixed with mine as he finished against my chest. "I love it when you do that," I said before he apologized because he always seemed to feel the need to apologize when I actually really, really liked it. A few minutes later, I moaned against his lips as I, too, finished. Yeah, morning sex was great.