The Floating World Pt. 04

Adam went around the rear of the vehicle and got in behind the driver. Seeing Jesse still fumbling with the bag, Adam reached across him and pulled the seatbelt over Jesse's chest, swiftly clicking the buckle into place.

He sat back on his own side and belted himself in, his eyes all the while on the rear view mirror, daring the driver to hold his gaze, waiting for the little fuck to smirk.

"Mate, you need a map, or what? Car too old for GPS?" Smug fuck. "Just drive."

Adam leaned back, and stretched his arm across the rear of the seat, claiming Jesse's shoulder with his fingertips again. He noticed the driver's glance in the mirror, and mouthed 'fuck off' to the douche.

"So, Reporter Jesse Clifton from the Daily Planet, I should introduce myself. Adam Cain, from a long line of Cains."

"I know, Ad—" Jesse caught himself, but not soon enough. The eyebrow, again.

"Jesse Clifton," Jesse recovered, as best he could, then remembered he'd already introduced himself. "Thank you, Adam. For this."

"I'm still not sure what 'this' is exactly," said Adam, "but I'm intrigued to find out."

The car pulled away from the curb and merged with the smoothly flowing traffic.

"A car ride, I find," Adam continued, his voice soft with the faintest trace of an English accent, "is either a transit or a journey." Too early to tell which, just yet. "Some folk make unfortunate choices with cars. I imagine John and Jacqueline could have done better—I hope James here," drifting his hand towards the driver, "avoids open places and moves quickly past high buildings."

A pause.

"Do you do that, James?"

Adam laughed, as the driver shot him filth. "What is it, my good man? You are, after all, the driver. Is my money not good enough?"

"I wonder if poor Jacqui ever got the blood out? And Diana, of course."

He fell silent, his fingers never moving from Jesse's shoulder. Adam stroked the soft fur of his beard with his free hand.

"I read once," it was Jesse's turn to contribute, "a story, where the narrator travelled into the past in an ancient car, the road a long, straight line out the rear window. It was a clever idea, the future unravelling behind him."

Jesse paused, and he studied Adam for a good five seconds. Adam waited, not moving.

"Cain," Jesse said. "Cain? That was the name in the story. Alexandra Cain."

Adam was silent for his five seconds. "Ah, yes. Alexandra." He said no more, but Jesse felt sure there was more to be said.

"But... the story was published on an erotic fiction site."

"Was it now? That doesn't surprise me. Not with Alexandra."

Jesse thought, wtf? Adam was talking as if he knew this woman, and Jesse was thinking, it's a story.

Adam's svelte voice continued. "The great erotic car journey is, of course, O. With her naked bottom on the cool leather seat. Driving to Roissy, to meet Sir Stephen."

"But that's fiction too," said Jesse.

"Of course it is," replied Adam.

He looked around, noting where they were. "James, just down the block. You can stop by the lane. My own car is parked there." He turned to Jesse and explained. "It's near a tram stop, costs me nothing to park, and the tram goes through the middle of the Square."

"But I thought..."

"Pub? Too early for a pub, for me. Besides, a pub would be too noisy. Mess up your recording. Or are you a pencil and notebook kind of a reporter?"

The car pulled up by the lane, as Adam had indicated. The driver turned, and proffered his phone for the payment. "Tip?" he asked, optimistically, forgetting Adam's earlier dark stares.

"Tip?" replied Adam. "Don't assume, don't judge, is my tip. Also, don't get retreads."

"Fucker," whispered the driver under his breath.

"Oh dear," said Adam. "And I was going to give you a five. Never mind."

They both got out of the car, and watched it fade into the distance, leaving them in the quiet suburban street. In the distance a dog barked, and another, echoing off into the distance.

"It's not quite the same as wolves, is it?" commented Adam.

Jesse remained silent, he had no experience with wolves. Except, perhaps, today. His gut instinct tightened. His own words, earlier, flashed back into his head ... I know when someone has a story. I don't know what you've been through, but I know whatever it is, there's an audience. "Come," said Adam, "my ancient car awaits."

It wasn't ancient, but a recent model M6, a deep blue, like Adam's eyes in a storm.

Jesse laughed, "You know your Beemers, then?"

"Yes. It would amuse me if James's pride and joy was one of my hand-me-downs. But it wasn't."

Adam pressed the remote, and the locks sprung up with a crisp thunk. Jesse wondered what he was getting into this time.

Just a car, Jesse, just a car.

Adam looked at the youth with a speculative interest. It was not often he heard thoughts so clearly, but then his mind clamped shut and there was silence.

This time, Jesse was more adept with his bag, and Adam admired his more relaxed, fluid grace. Ah good, he's settling like a nervous pup. He thought of Amanda, the way her dark eyes resisted him and the way she fought for him to see her properly. These two could have been siblings.

As he put the key into the ignition to start the engine, he glanced across at Jesse beside him. Jesse clicked the seat belt home with conviction and held Adam's gaze, before pulling his hair back to reveal his face. Sweet Christ, those cheekbones. Fuck, the boy really was beautiful. Adam felt a pleasant throb deep in his gut.

Adam pulled out from the lane, and zigged and zagged several blocks before stopping at a swipe box to an underground car-park, under a small apartment block. "I should have walked this morning," Adam said, by way of explanation for the short journey, "but I was running late."

He parked the car, and they moved to the lift. Standing side by side, they both faced the doors. Jesse turned the band on his wrist once, while Adam pressed the button for the tenth floor. The lift smoothly ascended, and the doors slid apart with a hiss. The corridor was deserted; there was no possible reason for anybody other than an occupant to be there. Adam led Jesse to the left, down the corridor and into a small alcove, where he swiped an access card. The door opened with a satisfying click.

Jesse wondered what he was walking into this time.

Just a door, Jesse, just a door.

"It's what's inside that matters, isn't it, Adam?"

"Yes, that's right."

Adam pushed the door open.

* * *

Jesse was in a mild state of panic, but above his speeding pulse, Nate was speaking in his ear, guiding him, commanding him not to trip over his own fucking feet.

In the car—when Adam had touched his shoulder, his heat soaking through Jesse's heavy jacket, he'd felt paralysed. The ownership in that touch....

And then, when he'd pulled his hair back, unconsciously finding the bravery to reveal himself, he'd felt Adam react. It'd been swift, visceral, and controlled almost immediately, but Jesse had felt it just the same.

Was it a 'yes', or was Adam playing with him? The way he'd spoken to the Uber driver had injected a stab of nervousness into Jesse's gut. He'd either just gone home with a man who may or may not swing his way and was establishing his dominance early, or the guy was a serial killer.

There had been moments when Adam had felt as if he was two people. The man Jesse had seen in the coffee shop, and someone from... somewhere a long, long fucking way away. Another place. Another time?

No matter what, Jesse knew he hadn't been wrong. Adam had a story in him that'd make Jesse's career.

Career or cock, which is more important to you right now?

He ground his mental teeth, keeping his outer self calm—

Don't show it on your face, Jesse, people can read you, and if they read you, you're fucked.

—but he had no idea what he was doing. None at all. This wasn't some Grindr hookup, this was...

What?

Nate's voice; 'You decide, Jess. Don't let anyone else decide shit for you.'

As Adam unlocked the door, Jesse felt another stab of fear as he remembered Adam leaning across to buckle his seatbelt.

It'd given him a kick of adrenalin in his stomach, although he'd quickly figured it was mostly to fuck with their Uber driver, with his eyes full of judgement.

And anyway, didn't Jesse do the same thing every day? If people were going to judge him, he'd damn well give them something to judge. Let them think he was prey, right up until the moment they found themselves knocked on their asses, their noses spurting blood, their utter confusion at thinking someone who confused the mind so much is that a boy or a girl? would have teeth.

Jesse had fucking teeth. But it was his secret pleasure to keep that knowledge to himself until it was time to draw blood.

He realised Adam was waiting for him to step inside. Well, he'd said he wanted this story. It was time to get what he came for.

Jesse stepped into the apartment.

* * *

On the tenth floor, Jesse walked into a room flooded with late afternoon sunlight. Huge display windows overlooked the parklands, with a distant view to the eastern hills, and a glimpse of the bay to the west.

Jesse walked over to the windows as the door clicked shut, and watched an aeroplane circle and drop towards the airport that lay towards the ocean.

Everything was pale and clean.

He turned back to Adam, who was watching him with the still focus of a very large, very dangerous predator.

"A drink?" the older man suggested. "What'll you have?"

Bourbon and a benzo, thought Jesse, but out loud; "Tea. English Breakfast, if you have it. White and one."

Adam again raised an eyebrow, and Jesse gave him a soft smile.

He took off his jacket and shook his hair back, then unlocked his phone and set it in front of him while Adam put the kettle on.

"If you don't mind, I'll use my phone to record our conversation. I can type fast enough, but most people find it distracting."

While the kettle hissed to life, Adam came back into the lounge area. His eyes ran over Jesse, and Jesse basked in his scrutiny, one arm along the back of the couch, one booted foot resting on his knee.

"This is a really nice apartment. You lived here long?"

Do you live here at all, or is this where you take guys like me?

Adam's eyes flickered momentarily to the phone, and Jesse could see him measuring his response, deciding what he wanted on record.

"A while." Non committal, even a warning in his voice, and Jesse backed away from that one.

"Do you go to that coffee shop often? They all seemed to know you."

Adam folded his arms and smiled. There was knowing there, even a touch of condescension, as if he thought Jesse might be trying to trap him, and he found it amusing.

Jesse felt a leap in his gut, but he was sure his face was closed, his expression pleasantly neutral.

"Why don't we talk about why you're really here?" said Adam, and as if on cue, the kettle clicked off, leaving them both in the simmering silence of the water bubbling and settling.

"White," said Jesse, that same neutral smile. "With one."

Adam grinned and shook his head slightly, and headed back to the kitchen to make Jesse his cup of tea.

He came back with a mug that was as pale and clean as the rest of the apartment, and set it in front of Jesse, then sat on the couch opposite and stretched out, both arms along the back of the couch, a foot on his knee, mirroring Jesse, but raising him a fuck you.

Jesse picked up his tea, keeping his eyes on Adam. "Thank you. It's perfect."

A smile on his lips that said, I see you too

Adam's eyes roved across him again, and Jesse felt a thrill and a tightness in his skinny jeans. Sitting as he was, it was tempting to put a hand to that hardness, but more fun to simply let Adam see it.

"Like I say, I write for Vice." Mostly. Often enough. "And I have a knack for seeing a story in someone. What you were saying in the car... is that your story? Alexandra Cain. When you talked about her... you sounded as if she was a real person, not just some character in an online story... that I can't believe I admitted to reading." He paused. Sometimes it was better to let his interviewee fill the silence themselves.

* * *

Adam let the silence run a long time, thoughts edging past the closed doors in his his mind, fleeting glimpses down long corridors, running feet, the chatter of high voices, the veil of black hair. He took pity on himself and Jesse, and finally spoke.

"Alexandra. I've not thought of her in a long, long time." His eyes softened at the memory of her, and his fingers brushed invisible dust from his knee. "But no, not Alexandra, not this time." Not before I know what she's said.

Adam focussed on the beauty opposite him, this boy with his high cheek bones and his black eyes, his thin straps of leather binding his wrists, his nervous twist. No, the movement was a steadying twist, some learned thing perhaps, or automatic. Adam sensed rather than saw a thicker shadow shift the black fabric of Jesse's black jeans, and his own senses sharpened. The lowering sun shimmered bright, that last dusking light.

"But you, Jesse Clifton, with your fast fingers not quite fast enough for a pen, who follows me from a cafe and accosts me in the street. What am I to make of you?" Adam smiled, and it was in his eyes. "What's your story, Mr Clifton, that you've not quite written for Vice?"

Jesse began to reply, but Adam shook his head, no.

Instead, Adam reached for the laces on his shoes and pulled them loose, then shucked the shoes from his feet, socks too, and placed them on the floor. Already crouched low, he turned and swiftly found the zip on one of Jesse's biker boots, and pulled it from his foot.

"So clumsy, later, don't you think?"

Adam stood, and was pleased to see the shadow thicker, how could it not be thicker? Jesse took the hint and quickly took off his other boot, stuffing the socks together into it. Jesse stood, but was uncertain.

Adam touched his hand to the younger man's shoulder, extending the touch from the cafe through the territorial claim in the car, to something more intimate. Adam reached his fingers towards Jesse's throat, as if searching for a pulse. Jesse acknowledged Adam's hand by tilting his head slightly towards it. Adam steered him towards the big, plate glass window overlooking the parkland. Down below, a solitary woman was walking her dog, long shadows stretching out before them.

By the window, Adam turned to face Jesse, and then placed both hands against Jesse's cheeks, holding him there for some seconds in a still, silent gaze. Seeing something, Adam leaned forward into a slow kiss. Gentle at first, just savoring Jesse's taste, curious and investigative, it was a foretaste. Jesse lifted his hands to Adam's shoulders for a moment, but was given no clues, so dropped them back to his sides. A moment later, he placed his hands on Adam's hips, but again the kiss did not change, and he dropped them back again.

Satisfied with Jesse's restraint, Adam leaned in, hungrier now, probing with his tongue for Jesse's mouth. Jesse pushed both hands back against the glass, and braced himself against Adam's weight. They were both the same height, so it was an equal thing. Each man fucked a little tongue fuck to the other's mouth, taking each other in quick turns.

Adam pushed back from the kiss, and, reaching for the bottom of Jesse's T-shirt, peeling it up and over his head, before throwing it back to the couch. Adam spun the boy till he faced the glass, pressing his weight against Jesse's back. Adam reached his hands around Jesse's front, holding one hand against his chest, rubbing his palm hard against a small, tight nipple; and dropping the other hand to Jesse's groin to find the thick mound of his swollen cock.

Jesse moaned at the touch, and Adam gripped the swell of him, before taking one step back and, pulling the bottom of his own shirt from his pants and in one swift move pulled it up over his head.

"Take them off, your pants," Adam instructed Jesse, and at the same time undid his own belt, and quickly pulled his pants and briefs down his legs. Both men stood naked, but Adam, quickly gripping Jesse's erection up against the boy's gut, pressed him to the window, his cock against the glass.

The hot, hard heat of Adam's cock blazed against Jesse's spine, as the bigger man pinned him against the window, his bulk covering Jesse's slighter frame.

"That woman with the dog, she keeps coming back," whispered Jesse.

"Wave nicely. She's probably not even seen your face."

Adam spread his weight over Jesse's finer frame before taking both his hands and spreading them wide into a crucifixion against the window.

The dog walker unashamedly stopped in her tracks and was looking up. Like a tiny mannequin below, Adam saw a hand disappear inside the woman's blouse.

Holding Jesse's body against his, Adam walked them both backwards through the lounge into his bedroom, where he turned and lowered Jesse to the bed. Jesse's cock was tight and long against his gut, his balls tight and high in his groin. Adam wasted no time with preliminaries, sinking his mouth over the red plum of Jesse's cock. With one finger and thumb Adam flicked up and teased a nipple, and with his other hand he cupped those high balls, giving them a soft squeeze.

Adam sucked and caressed Jesse's head, using the flat of his tongue on the underside and his lips in a tight O, fucking down onto the younger man's cock. Lifting his mouth from the fullness, Adam looked up to see the satisfied reaction on Jesse's face. His eyes were closed, and he'd taken his long hair in a twist against one side of his neck.

Once again, Adam was struck by the boy's beauty, and again for a moment he remained perfectly still, sucking in the look of the boy to his soul. He then turned back to Jesse's long shaft, this time running his tongue flat down the shaft until he reached Jesse's balls. He alternately sucked one testicle into his mouth, then the other, pulling them down away from Jesse's body to slow him even though the suck aroused him higher.

* * *

Jesse started up a low moan in his throat, and he reached out to touch Adam's flesh, anywhere would do. But his mind was fully engaged with cock, and he didn't care which part of Adam's skin was nearest.

His grasping fingers met Adam's and he felt a jolt of adrenaline between the last pair of ribs and his navel as if a needle had been pounded into him.

The older man wrapped his fingers around Jesse's, and Jesse felt fear like ice water pump through him. They were supposed to fuck. Just fuck. This was—

He threw his head back, lost in lust as Adam took him back into his mouth. Without thinking, he drew the older man's hand up his body, seating it over his stomach, the man's arm brushing his cock while his free hand and mouth kept any more thought from Jesse's head.

Jesse's fingers closed hard around Adam's, squeezing in time with his hole, hungry to be filled. To be fucked. To be possessed and pounded until he forgot where he was, giving up any sense of self preservation.

His black-painted fingernails dug into his own skin, creating the slightest pain to go with the surging of blood inside him, and the wet warmth of Adam's mouth on him. He could let himself go to this, but he wanted more. Held himself back, hungry for Adam to—

A finger touched to his clutching hole, brushed across it, leaving him breathless. He wanted so badly to be fucked, fuck me, fuck me, please fuck me, fuck me. Adam kept up his rhythm, Jesse's fingers contracting as Adam brushed a fingertip across him again, spreading drops of his own precum there, creating a light slickness. Jesse wouldn't have cared if Adam fucked him dry. He needed to be filled, ached for it.