The Man in the Middle
The person leaned down. Mouth at his ear. And in a voice that was low and close and unmistakable even after three days of telling himself it wasn’t possible. Three words, three Spanish words he had heard a hundred times across desks and in locker rooms and after late-night sessions when they’d finished something difficult together:
“Te quiero, cabrón.”
Jake stopped breathing.
It was him. It was Cole.
The hair, the weight, the hands he knew from 5AM sessions and two years of standing adjacent to each other, the voice that had said those words to him like punctuation at the end of every hard-won thing they’d done together.
Cole.
Cole was here. Cole had come. Cole was the surprise.
And Jake, who had spent 18 months describing this man as his brother and meaning it in all the ways he thought he meant it, lay face down in the dark and felt the full weight of what those words now meant. Somewhere he had always known. He just hadn’t had the door yet.
Adrian had opened it.
Jake found himself under the man who he now realized was actually the one in control. The one making decisions.
Jake whispered, “Fuck me, please, Cole. Fuck your boy…”
“First, I want to see your face”, Cole said as he removed the blindfold. Cole, still behind him, pulled Jake’s face to his and looked into his eyes. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this”, he whispered. The electricity between the two of them was palpable.
Jake, speechless, simply exhaled.
Cole stayed where he was for a moment, his cock resting against Jake’s entrance, not pressing in, just present, the two of them waiting for the inevitable to happen. Cole had dreamed about it since he met Jake. Jake was only now finding his truth. Jake could feel Cole’s breath, slow and controlled, against the back of his neck. Could feel the weight of him, the heat of him, the dense thatch of hair against his lower back. Could feel the physicality of the person he only now was discovering he was in love with.
Jake pushed his ass into Cole’s cock, begging to be taken. “Fuck your boy, please Cole.” He whimpered again.
Cole’s heart missed a beat when Jake described himself as “…your boy.” It was inconceivable, yet it felt totally right. Cole made a sound that was low and unhurried evoked nearly two years of unanswered passion. “Not yet,” he said. His voice had taken on a different tone, one Jake hadn’t heard before. Authoritative, even imperious. Cole was always sure of the data, of the findings, of conclusions. But there was something underneath it now, some heat that the office version of Cole kept contained, now entirely off the leash. “You’ve been waiting for this. You can wait a little longer.”
Jake made a sound of protest that was also unmistakably a sound of submission. “Cole…”
“You know how to address me,” Cole said. Quiet. Certain.
A beat. Then: “Sir.” The word came out of Jake’s mouth with an ease that should have surprised him and didn’t. It frightened him that it didn’t. It felt good and right to address Cole as “Sir”.
“That’s right.” Cole’s hand moved down the curve of Jake’s ass with a deliberateness that made Jake’s toes curl. “And right now, Sir is going back down. Because when I finally give you what you’re begging for, you’re going to remember every single second of how long you waited for it.”
He moved down Jake’s body before Jake could respond.
* * *
Cole was thorough in the way that Cole was thorough about everything. Methodical, unhurried, complete. His mouth found the inside of Jake’s left thigh and stayed there long enough that Jake’s leg began to shake. He licked slowly, starting mid-thigh, moving up to where his leg met his torso, flicked his balls, and then found his taint with his tongue. Jake gasped with pleasure. He arched his back like a cat, nearly begging to be taken. Cole had all the time in the world. He then moved across to Jake’s right leg. Then upward, the rasp of his stubble leaving a trail of heat across Jake’s taint, his balls, his tongue moving with the unhurried expertise of a man who intended to take his time.
“Please, Sir…please…” Jake begged.
Jake’s hips rose off the mattress of their own accord, offering everything, any dignity or professional composure he’d carried into this room two hours ago entirely gone, replaced by a single animal imperative: more.
“What is it you want, board boy?” Cole taunted him.
Cole’s hands gripped his hips and held them steady with an ease that reminded Jake, not for the first time tonight, that Cole was significantly stronger than him. He pressed upward against that grip and Cole held him in place without effort.
“Stay,” Cole exhaled, pressing against him.
Jake stopped struggling, hoping Cole would find him.
He did. Cole’s tongue found his entrance.
Just the tip at first, a slow, precise circle that made Jake’s entire nervous system light up at once. He made a sound he had no name for. Jake became delusional. Every nerve in his body pointed to his asshole. Absolutely nothing else mattered except the feeling of Cole’s tongue in that special, sacred place. He sensed Adrain off to the side watching but didn’t have the mental bandwidth to go beyond the sensations in his hole. Adrian would have to wait.
Cole repeated it. And then, with a patience that was its own form of cruelty, began to work him open in earnest, broad strokes giving way to focused pressure, his tongue penetrating him in a rhythm that matched Jake’s involuntary movements so precisely it felt coordinated, choreographed, as though Cole had mapped this specific body and knew exactly what it needed before Jake did.
Jake had to move. He couldn’t keep going like this. He needed something. More? Different? He felt like he would explode from the pleasure any moment.
He got on all fours. He didn’t decide to. His body made the decision and his mind followed, presenting himself with a completeness that three days ago would have been inconceivable and now felt like the most natural thing he’d ever done. Cole adjusted with him seamlessly, his hands repositioning Jake’s hips with the calm authority of a man entirely in charge, which, of course, he now was.
“Good boy,” Cole said. Quietly. Into him. Jake felt the words as much as heard them.
The rimming continued. Jake’s arms were trembling. He pressed his forehead against the mattress and gave himself over to it, his hole opening under Cole’s tongue, his cock hanging heavy and leaking between his legs, every part of him concentrated on the singular point where Cole’s mouth met his body.
* * *
He felt the mattress shift. From the other side.
He lifted his head. Adrian was on his knees in front of him, his cock at full attention, level with Jake’s face. He held Jake’s gaze for a moment with that expression Jake had been trying to earn since the first phone call. Warm, certain, proud, and then glanced over Jake’s shoulder at Cole.
Cole lifted his head. Met Adrian’s eyes. Nodded once.
Adrian looked back at Jake. “You know what to do, board boy,” he said. “Show Cole what a little slut you’ve become.”
Jake shivered. The degradation of being called a slut, in front of his close friend and colleague should’ve been unthinkable. Instead, it was, pure, clarifying, inexplicable fuel. It was the truest thing he’d heard all night.
Jake didn’t hesitate. He took Adrian in his mouth with the confidence of a man who had learned this and learned it well, his lips sliding down the length of him, finding the base, settling into the rhythm that he knew Adrian’s body responded to. He felt Adrian’s hand come to rest at the back of his head, not directing, just present, just connected, and heard the quiet sound that left Adrian’s chest, the one that meant Jake had found exactly the right thing.
He was so focused on pleasing Adrian he hadn’t noticed Cole had pulled his mouth away. Cole’s cock had found his entrance again.
The tip pressed against him, not asking, demanding. Cole’s hands moved to Jake’s hips and gripped, and Jake felt the full force of Cole’s considerable strength focused entirely on him, holding him exactly where Cole wanted him.
“Who owns this ass?” Cole said. Low. Certain. The voice of a man who already knew the answer and wanted to hear Jake say it.
Jake pulled off Adrian long enough to answer. “You do, Sir.”
“That’s right.” Cole pressed forward, just the head, and stopped. “And you’re going to take every inch of me and say thank you. Aren’t you.”
“Yes, Sir. Please, Sir.”
Cole slid into him. Slowly. All the way. Without stopping.
The only response Jake was capable of was to take Adrian deeper.
* * *
Since Nashville, Jake had explored gay porn and had seen the shape of this, a man in the middle receiving from both ends, and had watched it with increasing attention. He understood now what he was looking at all the time. The man in the middle. That was the part that had held his eye.
Now it was him. Jake was the man in the middle.
Cole moved behind him with long, deliberate strokes, finding a rhythm that Jake’s body answered instinctively, his hips rocking back to meet each thrust. Adrian moved in front of him, one hand still at the back of Jake’s head, his own rhythm easy and unhurried, reading Jake’s breathing and adjusting accordingly. The two men had arrived at a synchrony that Jake felt as a single continuous wave moving through him from both ends, as though his single, lifelong purpose was to give these two men pleasure.
He thought, I am not making a single decision right now. Not one. And the thought produced the same relief it had produced in Nashville, that deep settling quiet, except that now it was running alongside the most intense physical sensation of his life, and the combination of the two, the submission and the pleasure, the letting go and the being held, was something he had no adequate framework for. He simply felt it. All of it. At once.
Cole’s hand moved around his hip and gripped him there, pulling him back into each thrust with a possessiveness that made Jake’s eyes close. “This is what you were made for,” Cole growled, and his voice had lost its professional register entirely, reduced to something lower and more honest. “Taking us both. Look at you.”
Jake would have responded but Adrian’s hand tightened gently at the back of his head rendering him incapable of talking and he understood: not now. Not yet. Just feel it.
He felt it. He felt all of it. Cole deep inside him, filling him completely, finding angles that sent electricity up his spine with each stroke. Adrian in his mouth, warm and thick, making sounds above him that Jake had learned to understand as the highest form of approval this man gave. The sweat on his own back. The trembling in his arms that he refused to give in to. The extraordinary, unprecedented sensation of being completely claimed from both ends by men he trusted completely, one he respected with the full force of everything professional ambition had ever meant to him, and one he loved, in the clearest and most uncomplicated sense of the word.
He loved Cole. He’d probably loved Cole for longer than he’d known what to do with it.
***
Cole pulled out without warning and Jake made a sound of pure loss.
“On your back,” Cole said.
Jake flipped over immediately, no hesitation, his body following Cole’s instructions before the words had fully registered. He was, he realized, as desperate to obey as he was to be fucked, the two hungers identical in their urgency, indistinguishable from each other. Once on his back, Cole gripped his hips, turned him around and pulled him to the foot of the bed with one fluid motion, with his head nearly hanging off the foot and his legs pointing to headboard. The the casual deployment of that strength again, he repositioned Jake’s body as though he weighed nothing.
Cole looked over his shoulder at Adrian. Gestured him to stand at the foot of the bed, over Jake’s head. Adrian understood immediately.
With incredibly fluidity, Adrian stood at the foot of the bed and Cole climbed between Jake’s legs.
Holding his ankles, Adrian pulled Jake’s legs back and apart with a steadiness that opened him completely, offering him to Cole with a matter-of-factness that was the most charged thing Jake had ever experienced. He could feel his own exposure. He could feel both of their eyes on him. He didn’t look away from either of them.
“There he is,” Cole said quietly, looking at Jake the way Jake had caught him looking a hundred times across meeting room tables and locker room floors, the look Jake had noted and filed, but refused to examine. He wasn’t refusing anything now. He held the look and let Cole see all of it.
Still holding Jake’s legs apart to give Cole full access, Adrian lowered himself slightly, and let his balls graze Jake’s face. “Open,” he said simply. Jake did. Adrian groaned.
Cole lined himself up and entered Jake in one long, decisive stroke that drew a sound from Jake that echoed off the hotel walls. From this angle everything was different, deeper, more direct, he found it and stayed there with a precision that suggested Cole had done the researched this in advance and known exactly what he’d find.
Cole found his prostate.
The sound Jake made was involuntary and emphatic and produced an equally involuntary response from Adrian above him. Cole made a low sound of satisfaction. “There it is,” he said, and stayed there, working that specific point with a focused relentlessness that made Jake’s entire body clench and release and clench again. “That’s the spot that’s going to make you lose your mind, isn’t it, board boy.”
Jake couldn’t respond. The overwhelming sensations alone rendered him unable to speak. And now Adrian had lowered more so that Jake was lapping hungrily on his balls, taint, and hole.
“Look at me,” Cole ordered.
Adrian moved off him so Jake could lift his head look Cole in the eye. It was, he realized, the most intimate thing that had happened all night, more intimate than any of the rest of it. Cole, looking down at him. Jake, looking up. Both of them knowing everything the look meant and neither of them flinching from it.
“You good?” Cole asked. Just that. Just his voice, stripped of the dom register, asking the question he’d always asked when it mattered.
“Yeah,” Jake said. His voice wasn’t entirely steady. “Cole, yeah. I’m good.”
Cole nodded once. And then he started to move in earnest.
* * *
All three of them were pouring sweat. The room had the unmistakable charge of three people who have been building toward something for a long time, in Adrian’s case, three days; in Cole’s case, considerably longer; in Jake’s case, most of his adult life, though he was only now in a position to understand that.
Cole’s rhythm had found its full stride, deep and deliberate, hitting the same point with a consistency that had reduced Jake to a sequence of sounds he couldn’t control. Electricity shot through his body with such intensity he wanted it to stop immediately and, at the same time, go on forever. Cole’s cock had zeroed in on his G-spot with such precision he felt like he would cum every time Cole thrust into him. He didn’t know how much more he could take.
Above him he could see Adrian straddling his head, jerking off furiously and he prayed that if he couldn’t swallow every drop, at least he’d be covered with it. Jake could read it in his breathing, in the tension in the hand that held his legs. Jake himself was somewhere past the point where coherent thought was possible. There was only this: Cole inside him, Adrian above him, his own cock untouched and leaking against his stomach, his body a single sustained note of sensation.
“Sir,” Jake managed. He wasn’t sure which one of them he was addressing. Both of them, maybe. “Please…I have to…PLEASE….”
Cole looked down at him. The expression on his face was something Jake had never seen there before, open in a way Cole never was, the composed professional exterior gone, replaced by something that had no business being on a man's face in the middle of what they were doing, and which Jake recognized instantly because he'd just found the same thing in himself. It looked, unmistakably, like love.
“Yeah,” Cole said. His voice was rough. “With us. Right now.”
Jake’s hand found himself. Adrian made a sound above him that signaled his own arrival. Cole drove into him twice more and then went still and Jake felt the warmth of him flood deep inside, and his own body answered it with a release that moved through him from his toes to his skull, his back arching off the mattress. Adrian came above him, all three of them arriving within moments of each other in a sequence that felt, like delirium. Perfect, erotic delirium.
Although stunningly incongruent with the moment, the words “hat trick” crossed Jake’s mind. Cole’s hot jizz erupting up into his hole with a warmth he had no words for, Adrian’s cum blanketing his face and torso like a cloudburst of cum, and for Jake, the most powerful orgasm of his life. It flew over his head into Adrian who was standing behind him and covered Jake’s hair, face, and torso. He spasmed uncontrollably until his softening penis had nothing left to give
* * *
Afterward, the room was quiet in the way rooms are quiet when everyone in them has just experienced something that could be described as “once in a lifetime”. Cole stayed inside of Jake as long as biology allowed him to but reluctantly, he had to withdraw. When Adrian’s softening cock was within inches of Jake’s, Jake raised his head to retrieve every last drop. Cole lowered himself and began to lick the cum cocktail on Jake’s torso and feed it back to Jake who gulped it down hungrily. None of them wanted it to be over.
Finally, Cole lowered himself onto the mattress beside Jake, his breathing still settling. Adrian disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a warm washcloth and moved over Jake with the same unhurried care he brought to everything, wiping him clean with a tenderness that was its own kind of statement. Jake lay still and let him and felt the exhaustion of a body that has used every part of itself.
They ended up in the bed the way it made sense to end up: Jake in the middle, Cole on one side of him, Adrian on the other. Jake was warm and solid and smelled of exertion and the cedar soap from Adrian’s shower from earlier. Adrian recognized the fragrance, Cole just went with it. The moment was sublime
The three of them lay in the amber light that came through the curtains from the Atlanta night and said nothing for a long time.
Then Adrian said, from the other side of Jake: “How’d you like your reward?”
Jake looked at the ceiling. He considered the question with the honesty that seemed to be the only mode left available to him at this hour, in this room, with these two men.
“Is the reward finally getting to cum,” he asked, “or Cole?”
A pause. Then Jake could hear Adrian’s smile, the unguarded one, the one very few people got to see, “Both.”
Cole said nothing. But his hand found Jake’s under the covers and stayed there, and Jake felt in that simple contact the full weight of eighteen months of 5AM sessions and late-night work all the things that had always been true and were only now findable.
Jake pulled Cole into him more tightly to wordlessly signal, “I’m yours”.
Cole responded, Te quiero, cabrón.
-End of Chapter 6-
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