The Offer
by Wrestlr
5.
Jack said to Dylan. “Can I talk to you? In private?”
“Sure. Follow me.”
Dylan led Jack to his bedroom, nearly identical to the guest room where Jack had slept—sparsely furnished, same blackout curtains. Dylan sat on the edge of his bed and motioned for Jack to sit beside him. Jack did. Sensing the heat of Dylan’s nearly naked body in the air between them, Jack flushed.
“So ...?” Dylan said. “Is this about The Offer?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“You’re wondering if it’s a good deal or just freaky?”
Dylan’s directness surprised Jack, who stammered, “Yeah.”
“Did you say yes?”
“He told me to think about it and give him an answer by noon tomorrow.”
“Fair enough. Well. All I can tell you is my perspective. It’s been a pretty good deal for me. I found this place when I was just a little older than you. I was a typical street punk, not quite homeless but pretty close to it. I graduated high school with no real skills or prospects, and I spent my time dealing drugs and barely avoiding getting arrested and major legal problems. One of the guys who lived here at the time—he’s since moved out—found me and introduced me to the Doctor, and he made me the same offer he made you. He helped me clean up my life and get my shit together. I decided to go to college and then the police academy, and the Doctor made that possible. Like I said last night, he gave me the money for tuition—even helped me get a job here with the local police force when I graduated. I owe him more than I can ever repay. I can’t tell you what decision to make, but for me it’s been a great deal. I can’t imagine my life any other way.”
“Is that why you brought me here?”
“What do you mean?”
“You could have left me on that bench at the church. I wasn’t hurting anybody.”
“And then you would have frozen to death. We had a report of a vagrant, and I had to check it out. You were halfway to hypothermia already. If I’d left you there, I’d’ve had to fill out reams of paperwork about your dead body the next day. It was either turn you over to Social Services or bring you here. I took a photo of you with my phone, sent it to the Doctor, and he said I should bring you here. If he liked you enough to make you The Offer, he must think you’ll fit in around here. He doesn’t make The Offer to just anybody.”
“What about—I dunno—the freaky stuff?”
“You mean the hypnosis?”
“Yeah.”
“Trust me. It’s not that freaky. And he can’t make you do something you don’t want, if that’s what you’re afraid of. After a little while, it just becomes part of the routine, like brushing your teeth or shaving every day.”
“I don’t shave every day.”
Dylan chuckled. “That’s because your body is still maturing. Trust me. You’ll be shaving every day soon enough. You cleaned up really well—a good-looking guy like you, the boys’ll must be all over you.”
“I wish.” They grinned at each other. Jack felt intimidated by Dylan’s closeness and good looks. Jack smiled timidly. So Dylan thought he was good-looking? The thought made Jack’s chest feel fluttery. Nervousness made him babble: “I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’ve never even kissed a boy.”
Dylan grinned. “I think we can fix that. Kissing is one of my favorite things in the whole world.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Show me, show me, show me, Jack begged silently, hoping his face did not reveal how badly he desired this. He feared exposure would be so fucking embarrassing, especially if Dylan did not—
Dylan’s face moved closer. Jack closed his eyes—thank you, thank you, thank you—and felt Dylan’s lips brush his. He let Dylan lead, trembled as Dylan’s hand slid around the back of his neck, cradling his head. Dylan’s mouth found Jack’s again, more than just a brush this time. Jack tensed for a moment, but just for a moment, before he melted into the larger man’s touch to accept his first kiss.
Dylan’s mouth slid across Jack’s, and he felt Dylan gently nibble at his lips. Jack parted his lips just a little, wanting to encourage him, and he felt the tip of Dylan’s tongue glide over the cusp of his lower teeth. Dylan’s mouth tasted of fresh mint toothpaste. Dylan’s tongue probed the outer spaces of Jack’s mouth, moving slowly, teasing. Jack’s entire body prickled with arousal. Dylan’s tongue slid deeper into Jack’s mouth, rubbing alongside his tongue. Jack gripped the mattress, concentrating on the sensations in his mouth as he tried to imitate Dylan’s little flicks and pokes, but his tongue felt clumsy and hopelessly thick compared to the little teases and gentle pressures he received from Dylan’s.
Dylan groaned softly and pulled away. Jack opened his eyes, missing Dylan’s tongue already. “You,” Dylan smiled, “are going to be a great kisser. I can tell.”
Jack was suddenly aware of his erection tenting the soft fabric of his sweatpants. He risked a glance down and saw a similar lump in the crotch of Dylan’s boxers. Holy fuck, he thought, remembering what Ike had told him, Dylan really does have a big one!
The neediness in his erection urged Jack to do more, to feel more. He decided to take the risk and reached for Dylan’s crotch. Dylan’s hand intercepted Jack’s wrist before Jack’s fingers could grasp the prize.
“No,” Dylan said.
“Why not?” Great, Jack swore at himself, thinking he sounded like a petulant child.
“Because technically you’re still a minor, and I’m a cop. Jack, I think you’re a good-looking guy, and I’m honored you want to go further with me, but until you’re eighteen that’s not going to happen.”
He didn’t say never—I only have to wait another day and a half, Jack practically cheered in his head. “Can we at least kiss some more? I want to learn ...”
“Risky,” Dylan said. “I don’t want us to go too far.”
“Please? Just teach me how to kiss. Hands stay above the waist—I promise.”
Dylan put his hand on Jack’s shoulder and drew their faces together once more.
Some time later, Dylan pulled back. He and Jack were stretched out more comfortably on the bed by that point, and Jack’s erection ached, telegraphing its need. Still, all they had done was kiss. Dylan allowed Jack’s hands to investigate his bare chest, his abs, and Dylan himself had hand-surveyed Jack’s chest but only through the outside of Jack’s sweatshirt. Jack was amazed by the solid feel of Dylan’s muscles, the strength they promised. Jack tried only once to reach for Dylan’s crotch again, but Dylan snagged his wrist and pulled Jack’s hand away, back to his chest.
“We should go downstairs,” Dylan said. “Dinner will be ready any minute, and they’ll be wondering what we’re doing.”
“Aww,” Jack groaned.
“You, uh, need some privacy to take care of that?” Dylan’s eyes smiled and flicked down at Jack’s erection straining to escape his sweatpants.
Jack’s eyes dropped to the ridge in Dylan’s boxers. “We can both take care of ourselves right here,” Jack suggested, hoping at least to see Dylan’s hard-on even if touching it was not allowed.
Dylan laughed and sat up. “You are going to be one heck of a firecracker when you hit eighteen.”
“Only a day and a half away.”
“Mmm,” was all Dylan said as he climbed off the bed.
Somebody knocked lightly on the door. Ike’s voice: “Dinner in five.”
“Be right there,” Dylan answered, all stoic confidence, broadcasting the nothing going on in here message. Jack thought Dylan sounded calmer than he could have managed.