Load the Dice by Moriah Gemel

Author:Moriah Gemel
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Publisher: Consent, an imprint of Interlude Press
Published: 2015-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Aces Wired

Aces Wired

Eric feels as if a brick wall has crumbled. And he expected it—bricks have cracks as part of their very layering, and even the strongest mortar can’t stand up to too much pressure. But the crumbling of the bricks leaves behind a mess, and Eric feels like an idiot for building it up in the first place if this is what he has to go through.

Eric feels awkward around Jamie, and their dates have been stilted for over a week now, although they’ve seen each other almost every night. Something about the depth of Jamie’s subspace and the intensity of Eric’s reaction to it fractured the comfortable idea that they could do this casually, at least in Eric’s mind. And now he doesn’t know how to do it. He holds Jamie’s hand more, but his hand sweats the whole time. He’s more tactile, but the touches are stilted and awkward. Their kisses are more lingering, more heated, but Eric has to pull away to breathe, and they haven’t had sex. It’s as if he’s actually started the relationship over—all the half-shy glances and the nervous tiptoes and the testing of boundaries.

Jamie’s not on the same page, though. Eric has no idea whether Jamie is still playing, or if he never was, or if he always will be. So they are both confused, and Eric can’t help but beat himself up for that. Eric’s in a kind of spiral of beating himself up, to be honest—for not realizing, for getting in so deep, for changing things, for falling in love when he hadn’t meant to.

He’s in love. This isn’t a game anymore.

“Can you tell me what’s up with you lately? Is this a thing, or—what? Have I done something?” Jamie says one night, thoroughly confused when Eric has backed away from his generous hand cupping Eric through his jeans. He so obviously wants it, but then he backs away, is silent, makes excuses.

“No, god, you’re fine. I’m so sorry,” Eric says. “I think I just—messed something up in my own head and—I’m trying to readjust.”

“And—it was about me,” Jamie guesses astutely.

Eric sighs. Communication time. Maybe not total truth time—he’s terrified, and he still doesn’t know where things stand. “Yes. Just… me realizing that I’m dumb. And too guarded. Now I have to figure out how to be less guarded without being like… all over you.”

Jamie grins, and leans in to bite Eric’s chin playfully.

“You know what?” he says. “I think I could take you being all over me. I think I might even like it.”

And that’s that. Just like the first time, they fuck on Eric’s couch, silly and wild and frantic and close, and Eric is so fucking in love and always has been. It was just a spark back then; sparks are easy to bury, but if they’re allowed to grow, they’ll eventually start a fire. Now, it’s a fucking blaze; his dried-up, semi-cynical, careful, shy little heart was perfect tinder. The last scene they did was a breath of fresh air on that growing flame.

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