(Dianne) Fox Writes

Exactly Right
by Anah Crow & Dianne Fox

Jamie shoved the photos into the shoebox he’d dragged out of the closet and flopped back on the bed. Dammit. Steve wasn’t supposed to up and get married like this, little gold-foil wedding announcements and everything. And Jamie wasn’t supposed to be left feeling all bitter and mopey about it. He’d gotten over Steve a long time ago; he was supposed to be happy for Steve.

And yet, here he was, all alone and staring at old photos of them together, way back when Jamie’d still been the type to fall head-over-heels. Not that he wasn’t still that type, but back then, he’d been a lot more honest about it. Now, he was stuck being head-over-heels in love with his best friend. Live-in best friend. Best friend with benefits, even, so Jamie shouldn’t have had a damn thing to complain about, but he wanted more. He wanted the stupid fucking white picket fence and the happily ever after and he couldn’t say a word about it.

And what made it all even better — worse — was that said best friend, Riaz, wasn’t even home to notice that Jamie was moping, watching My Best Friend’s Wedding and eating ice cream straight from the tub like a woman who’d been dumped.

Jamie was moping so hard, he must’ve blocked out the sound of Riaz’s car pulling up, or maybe they’d lived together so long that the sound was just part of the background noise by now. The front door popping open startled him into swallowing a huge spoonful of ice cream before he was ready for it. “Lucy, I’m home!” Riaz, still out of sight downstairs, sounded cheerful as hell.

Jamie jammed the spoon into the soggy tub of ice cream and sighed, then rolled to put it on the bedside table and hit the pause button on the remote. Julia Roberts stopped mid-word and Jamie flopped onto his belly. Stupid Riaz, being all happy. It wasn’t like Jamie could even tell Riaz what he was so depressed about; Riaz wouldn’t understand, would just feel pressured. Besides, Riaz’s idea of ‘cheering up’ involved football — the kind with the round ball — and a lot of beer. Jamie wasn’t interested.

Riaz was banging around downstairs, being mercilessly cheerful, and then he rumbled up the stairs with a vague, “Hey, man,” as he passed Jamie’s door. Then, moments later, he went bumping back down the stairs. Jamie could see Riaz in his mind’s eye: dark skin and bright eyes, black curls, broad shoulders and powerful thighs. Forget Rupert Everett and Dermot Mulroney. Jamie knew what he wanted. It wasn’t a movie or ice cream or some pasty-faced Hollywood cutout. He was working himself deeper into a mournful funk when the stairs creaked again and, to his surprise, there was a little knock on his door.

“Hey. Got a minute?”

A minute, an hour, the rest of his life. “C’mon in.” Jamie managed to get the lid back on the shoebox and push it under the bed before the door opened up, all without actually moving away from the mountain of pillows he’d surrounded himself with.

The door creaked open enough for Riaz to peek in. “Mandy told me about Steve,” he said. He took in the scene and then shook his head a little. “I thought you might need cheering up.”

Here it comes, Jamie thought. Beer and sports. And math. Mustn’t forget the incredible healing powers of the cube root. “‘M fine,” he muttered, licking a stray splotch of ice cream from his thumb. Cherry chocolate chip.

“Want me to go?”

“No.” Jamie’s answer came out before he could think to stop himself. He didn’t want Riaz to leave. Not ever.

“Okay.” Riaz gave him a smile. “Close your eyes.”

That smile melted Jamie; it always did. He wondered if Riaz knew. Jamie did as he was told, though he couldn’t figure out how having his eyes closed would make beer and football any more appealing. Or integrals.

There was a rustling, then the door bumped shut. A moment later, the bed dipped as Riaz sat down. Jamie felt Riaz put something into his lap, then something else. One was light, the other a bit heavy. DVDs and a six-pack of European beer? A textbook? “Open wide,” Riaz said lightly.

Jamie almost didn’t want to open his eyes, didn’t want to spoil the pleasure of knowing that Riaz had been thinking of him with the reality of what he’d gotten. Jamie did open his eyes, though, and what he saw didn’t make sense, at first. A long white box with a ribbon around it, and a giftbag with sparkly tissue paper poking out of it. “What did you…?”

Jamie couldn’t resist; he burrowed into the bag first, pulling out another ribbon-wrapped box — chocolates. Ooh. The bag wasn’t empty yet, though; Jamie could feel the weight of it still. He dug down into the tissue paper and pulled out two long strips of silky… Skin-tone silk stockings. And garters. Jamie could feel the smile stretching his lips before he’d even managed to open the other box. Long-stemmed red roses. And a little card. Jamie opened up the card.

‘I hope I got it right this time.’

Jamie turned his smile on Riaz, struggling up out of the pillows to fling himself at his friend. “You did. You got it exactly right.”

Riaz wrapped him up in a fierce hug and kissed him full on the mouth.

The effort Riaz had gone to warmed Jamie through, but the kisses heated him right up. He let the stockings slither out of his fingers and down into Riaz’s lap, and tangled his fingers in Riaz’s dark, silky hair instead, holding him close to keep the kisses going.

Every kiss Riaz gave Jamie was hungry and he held Jamie so close, like he was afraid Jamie would slip away from him. Riaz shuffled everything out of the way and then fell back on the bed, drawing Jamie down with him. “You’re really okay,” he murmured against Jamie’s cheek, between soft kisses back toward Jamie’s ear. “Not wishing it was you?”

“Not– No. I–” It wasn’t easy to think, to explain, to figure out what to say that wouldn’t say too much, when Riaz was kissing him like that. Riaz kissed him again and Jamie said, “Not with him,” before he’d realized his mouth was even moving again.

“Oh, good,” Riaz whispered.

“You thought–?” Jamie used both hands in Riaz’s hair to drag him up for a kiss on the mouth. “No,” he muttered between kisses. “No, no. Not him. God, not him.”

Riaz rolled him over in bed and looked down at him, puzzled. Jamie watched the little head-tilt and realized that — for better or for worse — the point had gone way over Riaz’s head. “As long as you’re okay,” Riaz said stolidly, leaning in to kiss Jamie again.

“I’m okay. Better than okay.” Jamie stretched up to meet Riaz’s kisses, licking into his mouth, and then asked, “Do you want me to put on the stockings?”

“If you want to.” Riaz paused and then nuzzled his nose against Jamie’s, his eyes closed. “I mean, yes. I do,” he said softly. “A lot. Because, God, you are hot when you’re pretty. But I got them for you, to make you happy, not me. You know?”

“I know.” Jamie nudged Riaz with his nose, then kissed him on the mouth again. “That’s why they make me happy. I want to wear them for you. I want to see the way you look at me when I have them on.”

“Then put ‘em on.” Riaz’s cheeks were flushed dark and he bit his lip as he pulled away slowly. “I’ll take that ice cream downstairs before it turns into a puddle.” He didn’t get far before he leaned back in to kiss Jamie one more time. “One for the road,” he said.

That made Jamie smile. He let Riaz go, watching that gorgeous ass the whole way out of the room. Once the door clicked shut, he rolled himself up out of bed and found a spot on his dresser for the box of flowers — he’d have to find a vase or something for them — and then started to strip.

His legs were still pretty clean, so he didn’t need to shave or wax. Oh, rolling the stockings on felt so good. Riaz had gone all out; these were silk, not some cheap costume crap, and they felt like heaven against his skin. Not scratchy at all, just silky smooth and cool. He clipped them up to the garters and found a pair of platform heels in the closet. Black patent leather mary-janes, those would do nicely. He strapped them on and then stretched back out on the bed to wait for Riaz.

The familiar rumble and creak of Riaz hauling that ass back upstairs to him made Jamie shiver with anticipation. The door swung open and Riaz stepped in. Knowing what Jamie had waiting didn’t spoil the surprise a damn bit. Riaz looked poleaxed. He closed the door behind him by way of leaning back on it for support and following it until it slammed into place. “Wow,” he said reverently. “You are so beautiful.”

Jamie wasn’t ever going to get tired of that, the way Riaz reacted when Jamie got all dressed up. Or, apparently, even just a little bit dressed up. “Thank you for the stockings.”

Riaz swallowed hard as he pushed away from the door. “Thank you for wearing them.” His voice was thick and his words were slow; he crossed the room like he was on auto-pilot. “God, you just…” When he hit the bed, he sank down to sit and reached out to touch one strap of the garter belt with his fingertips. “You are just… I never… it is fucking crazy that my best friend is into something that I didn’t even know makes me this…” The words trailed off as he bent to press an open kiss to the hollow of Jamie’s hip, just under the lace of the belt.

Jamie’s breath caught and he bit his lip to keep from asking Riaz to just turn his head, just a little, and put that gorgeous mouth on his dick instead. “Hot,” he finally managed. “I love the way you… The way you look at me, like that. So hot.”

Riaz sat up to look again. “I love this.” He ran a single finger up one strap, across the belt, and down the other. “This.” He covered Jamie’s dick and balls with that hand, just lightly, for a moment, and then he pulled his hand away. “I want it,” he said, and then his tongue snuck out to trace his lower lip.

Oh, God. That was so hot. And the look on Riaz’s face… “You can have it,” Jamie murmured, his hips coming up involuntarily, like his body was seeking out Riaz’s touch without his permission. “It’s all yours. Just… God, touch me.”

Riaz touched again, his fingertips fluttering against the head of Jamie’s dick, and then Riaz leaned over to lick where he’d touched, his fingers drifting down the shaft. “God,” he said softly. His breath was hot on Jamie’s flesh and then his mouth was even hotter, his moan muffled by Jamie’s dick sliding past his lips until it was something Jamie felt more than heard.

Oh. Oh, God. Jamie fought the urge to writhe, instead focusing on the little details of how Riaz’s mouth felt on his cock. Hot, wet, tight — and, fuck, even Riaz’s tongue was clever, seeking out all the spots that made Jamie twitch and groan.

Riaz shifted, getting up on the bed on his knees, between Jamie’s thighs. When he settled back down, his hands were all over Jamie’s legs and hips and even his cock and balls. His hands kept sliding over skin, slipping under the straps of the garter belt, just touching like Riaz couldn’t get enough while he sucked Jamie off with the same intensity and hunger.

Jamie barely managed to remember to keep his hands to himself, but that meant threading his arms up between the pillows to grasp the headboard of the bed. He had to hold onto something. He panted Riaz’s name, a quick warning, as the sensations started to overwhelm him.

There wasn’t any relief from the pleasure. Riaz’s strong hands opened up his thighs and held him down at once as Riaz took him in deep and moaned around him.

Jamie’s orgasm felt like it lasted forever, like every touch of Riaz’s tongue sparked a new wave of pleasure. Still shuddering, he pryed his hands off the headboard rails and reached down to pet Riaz’s hair. “Oh, fuck.”

Riaz finally crawled up to collapse next to Jamie and pull Jamie into his arms. “All better?” he murmured, ducking his head for a kiss.

“Almost.” Jamie dodged the kiss and rolled up over Riaz, careful of his shoes, settling with his hands on Riaz’s shoulders. “I don’t know if you’re being deliberately obtuse, or if it’s just you being… you, but. I’m in love with you, you big idiot. That’s why I’ve been moping around. Steve… Steve was just the trigger, that’s all.” He searched Riaz’s face, hoping for something — anything — other than outright rejection.

At first, Jamie got the puppy head-tilt again. For a guy with two degrees in maths, Riaz had a lot of trouble putting two and two together some days. Before Jamie could shake him, though, Riaz blinked and said, “Because Steve’s getting married and not you and…” He shook his head like a dog shedding water. “Oh. Not you and me.”

Well. That was something. Jamie gave a slow nod.

“But we,” Riaz started to say, then stopped, quite possibly saving them both the trouble of a messy homicide. “Jamie, I do love you. I love you, too,” he said instead, his expression still slightly baffled. He cupped Jamie’s face in his hands and kissed him gently on the mouth. “I just thought this was enough for you.”

“This,” Jamie said against Riaz’s lips, “is sex. I want you.”

“You have me.” Riaz pulled back to look at Jamie, a frown gathering on his own face. “You never had anything to be sad about, Jamie. You’re the person who makes me happy. I hope every time you go out that you won’t fall for someone else. The whole idea of being just friends first and always… I did mean it. You’re like a billboard about being in love and I never saw anything.”

“If I’m like a billboard, you’ve had blinders on for months,” Jamie said softly. Riaz loved him. He’d said so. “I want more. I haven’t… I haven’t picked anyone up in a long time. Since Lee.”

“Oh.” Riaz let out a slow breath, like he’d been holding it for ages. “I’m sorry… I didn’t… we said…” He stopped and tried again. ” Jamie, I love you. Even if I’m bad at the whole knowing how you feel thing. No one makes me happy the way you do. God, I can’t even look at you right now or my brain will shut off; you drive me crazy. If you want to get married… If I knew you wanted it, you’d have a ring instead of flowers.”

“I just… I’m in love with you. I want there to be an us, not just a you and me. I want…” Jamie smiled wryly. “I want all the stupid bells and whistles. I want the hearts and roses and the white picket fence. And I want them with you, because I love you.” God, he loved Riaz so much. Jamie ducked his head down to kiss Riaz on the mouth, soft and slow, showing his friend — his lover, his boyfriend? — how he felt.

“All the bells and whistles,” Riaz said solemnly, once Jamie was done kissing him. “I promise that I will remember.” He stroked Jamie’s hair and nuzzled his nose against Jamie’s. “Maybe even actual bells and whistles, if the situation demands it. You can have it all. And the picket fence.”