The Darkroom Ch. 02

"Talk. To. Me," he intoned. He blew lightly on Jeremy's cock, producing a strangled groan.

"Aaaarrrgh," Jeremy groaned. "This is so much better than I ever imagined. I didn't even know where to begin imagining – aarrgh – in the first place."

Bryan responded by taking him down his throat again.

"Ohhh, I wish I could do that to you," Jeremy panted.

Bryan lifted his mouth up and grinned. "I guess you'll just have to practice. A lot."

"You're so thick. I don't know if I could ever manage it."

Bryan's eyes fluttered closed. "Ohh, now who's flattering?" Again and again, he swallowed Jeremy's cock, base to tip, making loud slurping sounds.

"So tight and hot. I had no idea..." Jeremy stopped with a gasp as Bryan sucked hard on the tip. "Oh, oh, Bryan, god, gonna –"

Bryan pressed the base again. "I could be nice and let you come right now," he said, "but I want you so wound up, so primed for me. Want you to explode and see stars and lose your mind."

"Then fuck me," Jeremy panted. "You're killing me."

"Patience, freshman," Bryan teased. "I've only explored the one side of you." He abruptly flipped Jeremy onto his stomach. "Now for side B."

He flattened himself along Jeremy's back and pressed wet kisses on the nape of his neck. "You have a beautiful back, did you know that?" he murmured against the soft skin between Jeremy's shoulders. "So many muscles, I think I'll count them all." Which he proceeded to do with his tongue, tracing a path down his flank and into the small of his back.

This was getting to be too much. Jeremy started rubbing against the comforter, needing the friction, the release.

Bryan yanked Jeremy's hips up and shoved his knees forward, his ass now high and on display. "Uh-uh-uh, none of that."

"I need you, Bryan, need you," he chanted.

"You have me, babe," Bryan rasped. "And I've definitely got you." He lowered his face to Jeremy's round, pale butt. "Got my favorite part of you, in fact." He sucked and nibbled at the tight puckered hole, driving Jeremy mad with need.

He prepped him just as he'd done a few hours ago in the stairwell, this time with proper lubricant from his bedside table. Jeremy still gasped when he felt the first slick finger enter him. Soon he was humping back against the fingers in his ass, silently begging for more.

"Now, Bryan. Now." He craned his neck to look over his shoulder at his lover, who radiated his own tense, coiled desire.

"Face to face," Bryan panted, flipping him over once again as he sheathed himself in a condom. "I want to watch your eyes when you come."

"Oh God," Jeremy moaned. Bryan spread his legs and pushed his knees toward his chest, folding Jeremy nearly in half. Jeremy felt the broad head of Bryan's cock prod at his entrance, and he braced himself for the quick, sharp pain he knew to expect.

Bryan filled him with one long stroke, and Jeremy felt all the air whoosh out of him. He looked up and saw Bryan biting his lip, trying to keep from losing control. He liked that he wasn't the only one out of his mind right now, that he was responsible for the desperate look on Bryan's face.

"Bry," he whispered, and the other man's eyes opened, dilated and hot. "You want to know what I want now?"

Bryan rocked gently into him and nodded.

Jeremy took Bryan's face in his hands. "I want you to fuck me. Hard. Make me come. Stop exploring and conquer me already."

That's all it took – gentle Bryan made way for feral Bryan. He leaned back and pistoned his hips into Jeremy's, his cock pounding into him, driving all thoughts from his mind.

Jeremy was bobbing in a sea of sensation – of pounding and grunts and flesh slapping together. But mostly, a perfect feeling of fullness, rippling through him. This was his ultimate escape, and he never wanted to leave.

Soon Bryan's thrusts became erratic and frantic, and he reached down to wrap his long fingers around Jeremy's swollen cock. Jeremy could feel his orgasm building, spreading through his blood, and then he heard Bryan's rough, low voice: "Come for me, baby, now. Let me feel it."

His climax shot through him and spilled out in creamy white spurts over Bryan's squeezing hand. With three more hard thrusts, Bryan joined him in release, a strangled grunt on his lips.

Jeremy was vaguely aware of Bryan pulling out of him and cleaning up their cum and sweat with a washcloth, but mostly he focused on the high hum and buzz pulsing in his ears and fingertips.

"My God, Bryan," Jeremy said when he could speak again. "I can't move. And my blood is pumping all funny. Like a drum. Or a bagpipe." He was starting to lose focus and his words trailed into mumbles.

Bryan chuckled and pressed a kiss to his temple. "Sleep, babe," he murmured.

As he drifted off, Jeremy felt himself tucked into Bryan's arms, his lover's heart beating a soothing rhythm beneath his ear.

*****

They woke a few hours later as the morning sun stole into bed with them.

Jeremy found he was in the exact same position as when he had fallen asleep, which was unusual for someone who habitually tossed and turned. He must have slept hard this time.

"Morning, beautiful," Bryan murmured under him, stroking Jeremy's hair.

"Hey." Jeremy's voice was rough with sleep. "When do you have to be in the basement?"

"Ten." Bryan reached across Jeremy to find his alarm clock. "We have a couple hours yet. Before we turn back into mice and all."

Good. Jeremy didn't want to leave this cocoon yet.

"How many more work weekends do you guys have? Isn't the deadline this spring sometime?"

"This is the last one, and thank heavenly Jesus for it." Bryan stretched and grunted as he woke up his muscles. "Ugh. I want this deadline over with. Wish I could stay here all weekend and blow it off." He tugged Jeremy back to his chest.

Jeremy wanted to stay entwined with him, too, but his bladder and stomach were starting to protest.

"Shower?" he suggested.

Bryan considered it. "Well, okay, but I'm just going to get you dirty again, young man."

Jeremy followed him into the bathroom, his mouth watering at the sight of long legs and a muscled ass leading the way.

The more he saw of this man naked, the more he wanted to touch him, to taste him. Jeremy stood three or four inches shorter than Bryan, which put his lips at the perfect height to suck on his neck as the hot water brought them back to life.

Bryan quickly shampooed his partner's hair and rubbed the suds into his shoulders and back.

"What, no slow seduction this morning?" Jeremy teased.

"I'm on a deadline," Bryan replied. "If I'm going to touch you, I want it to be on solid footing. Want to get you back to bed."

"And here I thought you were more adventurous than that. Fucking me in the basement, midnight booty calls," Jeremy teased.

Bryan lifted Jeremy's chin with his hand. "You're not a booty call," he said seriously. "You know that, right?"

Jeremy ducked his head. "I was hoping," he said quietly.

Bryan took his mouth in a long, wet kiss, and Jeremy felt his heart swell with giddy wishes.

"Know it," Bryan said.

Bryan rushed them out of the shower, and they danced with locked lips back to the bed, where Bryan planted Jeremy on his butt.

Jeremy threw his head back and submitted to Bryan's oral attentions. He would never get used to this, never find it commonplace. His climax snuck up on him all too soon and he filled Bryan's talented mouth with his seed.

Then he flipped Bryan onto his back and returned the favor.

They lay together catching their breath. Jeremy decided he could spend every morning this way.

He trailed a finger across a faint scar on Bryan's knee. "Where did you get this?"

"Knee surgery," he said. "Freshman year I ran cross country and took a bad fall. The university paid for surgery, but I couldn't compete anymore."

"Do you still run?"

"Oh yeah. Sometimes it's the only thing that keeps me from murdering people in the basement. Some people go on smoke breaks; I do a lap around campus."

"Mmmm, sweaty." Jeremy nuzzled into the crook of Bryan's neck.

"So, sweaty does it for you?" Bryan asked with crooked grin.

"Everything does it for me," Jeremy said softly.

He swept his eyes over Bryan's body. He wanted to capture this, to keep this image forever.

"I wish I could shoot you," he murmured.

Bryan gave him a lazy grin. "You brought your camera, I noticed. You think I'd make a good model?"

"No one will ever compare," Jeremy said earnestly. "But I don't really like the idea of leaving my film drying in the basement for hours where, technically, anyone could get to it."

"Hmmm, I see your point." Bryan suddenly leapt from the bed and ran into the living room. He jogged back, cock bobbing, with a camera in his hand.

"I just got a new digital camera," he explained. "It's not a DSLR or anything – couldn't afford that. But it gets the job done." Jeremy was blinded momentarily by a flash.

"Hey," he protested. "I'm the expert here. Gimme."

"But I want some memories, too. Mementoes. Something tangible." He took another shot. "Something to jerk off to later."

Jeremy dropped his head coquettishly. "And this is all it will take to get you hard? Me in a sheet?"

Bryan dropped his hand to his cock. "It's working now."

"I have a feeling that thing is always working," Jeremy laughed. "Camera. Gimme."

Bryan ceded the camera and leapt onto the bed for a series of campy poses. Jeremy soon grew frustrated with the long shutter delay on Bryan's camera and the garish shadows the flash produced.

"Don't move," he told Bryan. He retrieved his camera bag and fiddled with his beloved Canon so he could do a proper photo shoot.

"I thought you said no film for this," Bryan said.

"Changed my mind. Your camera wasn't doing you justice." He snapped some quick shots of a naked Bryan with bands of light streaming across his body. "I'll just have to guard the darkroom while I bring you to life."

"How do you want me to pose, mister?"

"I'm just going to steal some shots of you while we're talking." *Click.*

"What shall we talk about then?"

"What do you do after this last deadline weekend?" Jeremy asked. *Click.*

"I have some new and interesting thoughts of what to do, in fact," Bryan said, reaching out to touch the photographer.

Jeremy danced out of reach. "I meant in the basement."

"We've already done it in the basement." He wiggled his eyebrows like Groucho Marx.

"Focus." *Click.*

"Fine," Bryan sighed. "There is the requisite detox period where we all sort of disappear from the basement and let the newspaper schlubs work themselves to death all by their lonesome. Then the books come back before graduation, which leads to the period of much rejoicing. Then we distribute the books. Then we escape until fall."

"Will you still be the designer in the fall?"

Bryan ran his fingers through his hair. *Click.* "Don't know," he said flatly. "I'm applying for the editor-in-chief job. Interviews are in a few weeks."

"You don't sound all that enthusiastic," Jeremy said. "Are you sure you want to be in charge?"

"Oh, I wouldn't mind that. Not looking forward to having even less free time than I currently have, though, if I get it."

"It's that bad?"

"Nah. I wouldn't be down there if it wasn't fun, ultimately. It's just that now is not the time for me to be enthusiastic," Bryan said with a frown. *Click.* "Not in the middle of this fucking work weekend. I always want to renounce the basement at this point, so the idea of actually getting this job does not, in fact, fill me with great joy." He grinned at Jeremy. *Click.* "But after a few weeks, I'll be re-convinced that I'm the only man for the job."

"Who else is applying?"

"So far, it's just me and Carson. No one else is stupid enough or egotistical enough to want it."

"Why are you? Stupid enough, that is," Jeremy grinned.

Bryan stretched out on the bed and looked at the ceiling. *Click.* "I love the Ivy. It's the first place I ever really felt at home, you know? And Carson is the only other person who's applying. Believe me when I tell you that would just not do."

"Yeah, I don't really like that guy," Jeremy admitted.

"Few do. A bunch of the other editors pushed me to apply because they don't want to work for him."

"So, you're being a martyr?"

Bryan winced slightly. "Not exactly. God, I hope next year doesn't literally kill me. I want to keep things fun. Make a beautiful yearbook. Make some memories. Make it home for everyone."

Jeremy took one more photo before putting the camera down and straddling his hips. "I hope you get it," he whispered.

Bryan kissed him deeply and ground their hips together. "What about you?" he said when they pulled away to breathe. "What do you want toget?" he canted his hips up to emphasize his point.

"A lot more of this," Jeremy panted. "Everything you've got." He froze.Was that too much to give away? To want from this man?

"Done," Bryan said with finality.

Jeremy's shoulders sagged in relief. He caught sight of the clock. "Shit. You're going to be late, Bry."

Bryan groaned theatrically.

"Come on, hot shot." Jeremy pushed him to his feet. "The sooner you finish, the sooner we can get back to bed."

Bryan tossed on some clothes. "I can't decide if you're good or bad for my motivation right now."

"Oh, I'm always good," Jeremy smirked.

"I'll say." Bryan tugged him out of bed. "I'll drive you home."

"I really can walk," Jeremy said. "It's not that far at all."

"After the way I rode you last night? You'll be walking bow-legged the whole way. That's one hell of a walk of shame, babe," Bryan teased.

Jeremy slugged him in the arm, but Bryan was right. He could feel the delicious aches settle into his muscles. He slid into his jeans and T-shirt and made plans to sleep the rest of the day.

"I'm going to call you as soon as they release us tonight," Bryan said, tugging Jeremy's back flush against his chest.

"No," Jeremy said, turning around in his arms. "Finish your yearbook. No more sweaty breaks." He smiled to soften his refusal. "After this weekend, you can sweat with me all you want."

"Oh, I'll want," Bryan promised.

I'll want too,Jeremy echoed.

*****

Bryan spent didn't emerge from the basement until early Monday morning with the rest of the yearbook zombies. Jeremy spent his weekend recovering from Friday and playing video games with Stephan in their room. He took a lot of shit from his roommate over how gingerly he was sitting and walking, but he took it with a smile.

While Bryan's schedule loosened up after the last deadline, Jeremy found himself busier than ever. He made a point to meet his roommate for meals whenever possible so they could build on their new friendship. And he noticed that he was getting significantly less sleep over the next couple of weeks – not that he was complaining. He was far enough ahead in his classes at this late point in the semester that he decided he could slack off a little now in favor of spending more time with his boyfriend.

Bryan encouraged him to hang out in the basement more, too, and Jeremy started to see how that funky collection of offices and twisting hallways could become a home.

He also tagged along with Britton to shoot a couple of concerts and games. They weren't official photo assignments – for class or otherwise – but he relished the feeling of belonging to this crew of photographers. This was exactly what he was looking for when he chose Goodman College and its journalism program.

"Have you thought about applying for a photo editor position next year?" Britton asked one Tuesday afternoon when they were shooting the varsity baseball game.

"Already?" Jeremy's eyebrows popped up. "I haven't even done a practicum class yet."

Britton snorted. "You've got more talent and more skill than anybody I've worked with these last four years. Apart from myself, of course."

"They'd probably need me to shoot digital, though, wouldn't they? I mean, I understand why the Courier needs that especially. Not that I would only want to be on the Courier. Or that I wouldn't want to be on the newspaper."Damn. Babbling again, Franken.

"Get your hands on a DSLR over the summer. It's not a tough switch, not for someone who knows his way around a camera the way you do."

"I don't know," Jeremy hedged.

"What is it?" Britton probed. "You afraid they won't know who you are on the hiring team? I'll write you a good letter of recommendation. And so would Bryan, I bet."

"Bryan's biased," Jeremy said lightly.

"To say the least," Britton said. He squinted at Jeremy for a long moment, then turned back to the field. "He won't make you an editor just because he's fucking you, you know. You don't have to worry about that."

Jeremy blinked and his mouth dropped open. "That's, um, I mean, I didn't think they, or we ... how did you know?"

"About you and Bryan? You two aren't exactly subtle," Britton grinned. "Ross is always more pleasant to work with when he's getting laid, but these days he's positively stupid when he's around you. And you blush a lot around him. I'm just saying."

Speaking of blushing,Jeremy thought. Of all the things Britton said, one thing stuck out and refused to be tucked back in. "Does he get laid a lot?" Jeremy asked, not quite achieving the careless tone he was aiming for.

Britton took a few more shots of the pitcher. "As much as any guy, I suppose. He's never hooked up with anyone from the basement, though. That's new."

He knew it was stupid to be jealous of anyone who came before him, but he couldn't help it.

"People would talk, though, wouldn't they? About us? That he hired his boyfriend? If he gets the job, I mean, they would talk?" For someone who liked to hide behind a camera and generally be unseen, the idea of being the subject of gossip was twisting his stomach.

"Okay, I'm going to pass on some leadership to you that will help you deal with this. Ready?" Britton turned to face Jeremy. "Fuck 'em."

Jeremy waited for more. It didn't come. "That's ... efficient leadership."

"Seriously, fuck 'em. People gossip, people bitch, people snipe. People suck. Fuck 'em."

Though crude, Jeremy knew he was right. He cared too much about what people thought of him. It was probably the product of growing up in a small town, where gossip hit a lot harder.

"Easier said than done."

"Well, at the very least, don't let your modesty about who you're fucking keep you from being who you are."

"Thanks for the advice, Keith," Jeremy said with sincerity. This was the most Britton had said to him in one sitting.

Britton gathered his equipment, and Jeremy followed suit. "Look, I'm graduating in exactly 22 days," Britton said. "I've spent my entire four years in student pub, and I want to make sure I'm leaving it in good hands. I don't want to come back for homecoming and see a bunch of shitty photos. That would chafe."

"Itwouldbe a personal affront, wouldn't it," Jeremy said dryly.

"Younguns," Britton snorted. "You'll understand in a few years, when you're old."

They walked back toward Wilson Hall, where Jeremy left Britton. "Let me know if you want me to write that letter for you," Britton said.

What I want,he thought.Want Bryan, want to shoot, want to fit in, want to belong, really belong. Don't want nasty gossips to be talking about me.He didn't know if he could have that and Bryan at the same time.

*****

"This is why you blew me off tonight?"

Jeremy spun around at the sound of Bryan's voice carrying over the radio in the darkroom.

"Who blew who off?" Jeremy countered. "I thought you were going out with your long-lost Ivy folks."

"It's too early for the Saloon yet." Bryan strolled around the large space. "I went to your room to fetch you. Met your roommate. He was very interested in finally meeting The Bryan."