Jonathon and Benny get on the bus separately, but are clearly together as Benny wears a tattoo on his neck that is the exact match for Jonathon’s scarring. What follows are six short stories that each explore a different tale of why they got on the bus and where they go from there.
Originally published in the Bus Stories anthology and released as a stand-alone by a different publisher.
Evil Plot Bunny
He went and crouched down in front of J, watching from up close. He loved how all those muscles worked together.
J grinned at him when he came up, kissing his chin. "Taste good."
Then J went back down.
Benny slid his hands over J's knees, waiting for him to come up again.
J's entire body rippled when he sat back up, tiny little nipples hard, entire body gleaming in the lamplight. Nobody was really expecting him to hold back now, were they? J knew, he just had to, that there was no way he was going to be able to resist touching.
Blue eyes -- blue enough that he'd thought they were contacts. Nobody but J had those eyes -- flashed at him, teasing.
Benny grinned back and slid his hand along the tight, flexing muscles, loving the feel of them under his hand as J worked them: hard and hot and slick with J's sweat.
The next time J came up, one hand cupped Benny’s neck and pulled him into a hard, quick kiss that made his knees weak -- which was probably cool because he was kneeling, but still -- damn. Then J went back down again. Benny let his hand move up, flicking across one of those small nipples before going back down to the rippling stomach muscles.
Three more sit-ups, each one with a hard kiss, and then J collapsed backwards. Panting, arms up over his head, naked and sweaty and not quite hard -- fuck but his J was something else.
All those firm, thick muscles, the long body that just went on and on... J was everything Benny wasn't. He laid himself out on top of J, resting their lips together.
J's eyes were bright, fucking bright against the purple beach towel that he used to work out on. His tongue crept out, stroked against the corner of Benny's mouth.
Benny smiled. J had forgiven him enough for this. It was gonna be okay. He moved his lips against J's, the stud in his lip rubbing between them. J didn't deepen it, didn't move really -- just sort of came down from whatever adrenaline high he was on as they shared breath.
Benny loved this, loved lying on his J-mattress. It was warm and hardbutsoft and it made him hard but it wasn't urgent, it was just good.
A half-dozen times J took a breath to talk, or he did, but they didn't. They just didn't. The music just kept playing, one loud, driving song after another.
Benny finally couldn't take the stillness anymore and wriggled, rubbing himself against J, wishing he'd taken his clothes off. But the lights were on and J was so hot and hard and he was just... scrawny and pale.
"Lose the shirt, Benny."
"Yeah, okay." He got up and went and turned the light off and then shimmied out of his clothes, kicking away his shoes and letting everything else just drop on the floor where he was standing. Then he was back on top of J, groaning happily as all that hot skin pressed against him.
"You worried the neighbors are gonna see you still?" One of J's hands still down his back, cupped his ass. He half shrugged, most of his attention on the sensation of J's skin against his own, the large, hot hand on his ass. J's fingers were tickling, running along the crease where his butt cheek met his leg. "Love this spot. Feels good."
Benny pushed back against J's fingers, trying to make the touch harder. The motions rubbed his cock along J's stomach and he groaned. Shit, J felt so good. J chuckled, kept up the light, easy touches. Benny could feel J's cock -- hotter than the rest of him, even -- nudging against his thigh, sort of poking and just making its presence known.
smut fixes everything