"I didn't ask you to touch me."
☆

"Do you want a drink?" Jack offers, making his way to the mini bar. He was determined to leave the past where it was, for the time being. Or at least until he had gotten what he desired.

Dexter looks around the vast penthouse suite, eyes taking in the luxuries, the soft furnishings, the panoramic view. "How did you manage all this?" He says, the question for a drink being overridden by the visual of the lavish surroundings. 

"We obviously chose different career paths." Jack replies, now offering Dexter a drink regardless of whether he wanted one.  Dexter takes the glass, a moment of finger tips touching. Jack felt that emotion of youthful longing for a split second as if he were 16 once again, before he looks back up at Dexter's face. He wonders how it came to be that he was now standing in front of him in these circumstances. "The last time I saw you, you were adamant you were as straight as a ruler, but here you are…" 

"This is work. That's all." Dexter replies, sounding rather abrupt. 

Jack just looks the man up and down. He emits a small chuckle. "Ok, whatever you say." He says, before adding. "Still a niche career choice. I guess plan A didn't work out huh?"

Dexter takes the glass to his lips, downing it in one before placing it on a nearby surface. "I'm not here for careers advice. Let's just get this done so I can leave." He begins to tug at the belt of his jeans, but Jack suddenly steps forward, grabbing his wrist. 

"You don't know what I want Dexter. Don't assume." He removes his grip, when he sees Dexter freeze his actions. 

"Then what do you want?" Dexter asks. He inwardly curses himself at the nervousness in his voice. He had to feel like he was in control of this, even though he knew he was the puppet and Jack, the master. 

"Come, take a seat." Jack now beckons Dexter forwards to the couch. Dexter watches as Jack lays back, settling rather comfortably into the leather, with his arms draped along the back, his legs slightly parted. Dexter sits at the other end, less relaxed. He knew he wasn't going to have a cosy chat, he was just waiting for Jack's next move. 

"Do you remember when you helped me babysit Jojo that time?" Jack looks at Dexter, who now looks at the floor in front of him, he begins to rub his palms together, suddenly feeling a shade nervous.  

"I remember." He tries to reply with little emotion, but he now had an inkling of what Jack was going to demand from him. 

"I only wanted you to touch me Dex. I only wanted to feel your hand around my cock. Was that too much to ask?" Jack stays in the same position, his demeanour still calm, his voice smooth at the ask of the question. 

Dexter now looks up to see Jack staring intensely at him. He refused to answer questions of the past. He cuts to the present. "Is that all that you want now?" A fucking hand job?" He dares to laugh, adding, "Still too scared to ask for more?" 

Jack doesn't rise to the taunt. Instead, he takes a hand to his own crotch and begins to lightly rub his palm over the fabric of his sweat pants. Dexter's eyes now get drawn to Jack's actions. He finds himself swallowing at what he was seeing. Something he had witnessed and been part of numerous times through his apparent career choice with other clients, but this time, there seemed to be this extra element in his mind that he didn't want to face as he watched Jack's rather large fair skinned hand slowly glide up and down over his clothed crotch...and that simply was because this was Jack.

"Make me hard Dexter, then make me come." Jack now grins, with his eyes creasing at the request. Dexter silently takes a breath as he leans forwards to place his hand over Jack's. The sooner this was over, the sooner he could leave.

"Move your hand." Dexter says, with that dominance in his voice, but Jack pushes Dexter's hand away. 

"I didn't ask you to touch me." He says, amused at Dexter's confused face.

"Then what the fuck do you want?" Dexter bites back, now standing up from the couch. 

Jack looks Dexter up and down. "Entertain me. Get yourself off in front of me." Jack continues to palm himself. The thought alone made his cock twitch at the anticipation. 

Dexter feels his body fill with adrenaline. It wasn't like this was an unusual request. Dexter had experienced most things with both men and women. He had perfected the art of getting himself ready for whatever his clients desired, his mind, full of back catalogues of porn and fantasies,  but now, the request given by Jack felt too exposing. Was it because it was Jack who would be watching?" 

Jack sees the hesitation in Dexter's eyes. "What's the matter Dex? Don't tell me you're shy. You were never shy when we were 18. Always keen to share your pleasure. don't tell me you can't get it up in front of me." 

"Shut up. Jack." Dexter bites back. He could be hard in a blink of an eye, but the last thing he wanted was for Jack to think it was because of him...because somewhere in the back of his mind, there hid the secret. That request, made by Jack on his bed all those years ago. For Dexter to touch him. The image of Jack in that state of need had been etched into his memory like a tattoo, never fading. That vision, that moment, of his ex friend laid back on the bed, a hand around his length all hard, needy. Dexter never dares to think about it. But it's always there and if he is brave enough to delve into the memory, it never fails to make him come.