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All these years later and he's never been able to recapture that feeling. It happened after an evening full of lighthearted fun. Adventures and games of hide and seek. A typical sleepover for kids their age. Most importantly, it was innocent. Then they'd laid down. Crickets and the night ambience were loud, but his friend's breathing was deafening. On Thomas' neck, the air was softer than any word Jax had ever spoken. No longer light and airy from all the laughter, now he just felt.. different.
Jax stirred. Closer. Thomas hoped to God he didn't hear his heart pounding. He was entirely too close. Pressed up against his back, warmth surged inside Thomas. Everywhere. Like an explosion of fireworks. Mortifying, yes, but he couldn't bring himself to retract from the sun that is Jax.
Was it the pizza that made his stomach twist and turn? Or anticipation? A little, barely audible voice wanted to escalate. To have Jax come closer (if possible) and wrap his arms around him and whisper in his ear and tou
The dip in the bed rises back to normal, and Thomas is alone. His wife is sat on the edge lecturing him about something. None of the words register. Instead he looks down in shame like the kid he once was.
That feeling reaches him again, firey excitement. But short-lived and duller. Much, much duller. The universe teases him with only a glimpse of what could've been. Heavy breathing. A fixed view of the carpet. It's disgusting, yet he can't help but keep going. He finds himself thinking back to his old friend. His wide, mischevious smile. The pleasure is intensifying. It's unlike the static rhythm he and his wife take. The way his eyes dilated first. The taste of coffee on his lips, the gentleness that lasted a few minutes before being immortalised in his memory...
Oh, to do it all over again. A million times, he'd still never get bored.
The regret had. settled in the following week. Now Thomas just wishes he'd asked Jax to spend the night. Go back to the treehouse and begin a life of their own. Away from everything. The idea is so blissful. Too blissful. When he finishes, he thinks it's one of the best he's had, but he can't be completely satisfied. No matter how tantalising it may seem, what he really needs is to be rinsed of this desire. It's a hard truth that only occurs to him once his hand is dirtied with white, and his mind clear.
The knot in his stomach tightens. If only that spark could re-ignite, but it's been ages, and Jax probably has other plans. Would he even want to see him again? Part of Thomas knows it's too late, but the other much more optimistic part is convinced it's worth a shot. Torn between stress and hope, he decides to sleep on it. Guilt just barely skips him when his wife sneaks under the blanket with him.