by MadSlash
Power Rangers, Tommy, and Jason are not my property. No money made from this; no harm done.
This can stand alone, but it's also a sequel to the version of 'Ancient History' that's posted on RangerFiction . net. (Not the version here, although they're the same except for the ending.) It takes place shortly before, during, and after Thunder Struck.
PG-13 for strong sexuality, including a male/male relationship. An NC-17ish version of this is also posted on www . rangerfiction . net. (Sorry, they screen out web addresses in stories and reviews.)
Jason: The Date
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We pulled up in front of his house in my car. Tommy watched me as I turned off the ignition and then while I just sat, smiling at him uncomfortably, wondering whether I should open the door and get out - thereby implying that I was coming in - or wait for him to ask me, or just say goodnight now.
I'd been dating men for years, of course, although a lot of the time you'd find it hard to call it a date. Most of the time I'd meet someone in a bar, or at a party, or even on the street. We'd talk for a while, and exchange names, get to know each other a little. I had never been into stuff like the baths or the clubs, anonymous sex with complete strangers, conversation limited to whether we were tops or bottoms. Still, it usually didn't take long before we found ourselves in a dark room somewhere, or the back seat of a car, groping at each other. Then, after, we might see each other again. We might not. I had liked them, most of them, and had some relationships that lasted a while. And I liked the sex. But they had all ended, most sooner rather than later. Too much baggage on my part, I guess, when every time I was imagining they were someone else.
And now - here I was with the object of all those dreams and wishes, finding out that reality was vastly different from years of fantasies. In dreams, you melt into each other's arms, clothes magically vanishing, and have red hot, yet romantic, sex. In real life, you wonder whether he can smell the onions you had with lunch on your breath, and you fumble with condoms, and worry about your performance.
Still, turning dreams into reality, however awkwardly, was what I had been trying to do for the last two weeks, ever since Tommy had cornered me and I had finally admitted to him that I'm gay. He had been shocked, all right, but I had had a shock of my own when he told me he's bisexual. There had been no talk of love that evening, but somehow we had ended up kissing goodnight. Things had changed between us, and we could both feel it. We had a chance for something beyond friendship, something that might last. If we could get past this first date.
"Well, here we are," I said cleverly.
"Yeah. It's still early."
As if by some unspoken agreement, we had taken it slow so far. A few phone calls. Lunch. He visited the martial arts center I owned with Rocky DeSantos. I went to see him at the high school where he taught. A few quick kisses here and there, a little hugging, that was all. Then Tommy, to my surprise, had been the first to suggest a real date. It had started off well, a nice quiet dinner at a nice restaurant, a walk along the beach, a little hand-holding when no one was in sight. Then I had driven him home. As Tommy had said, it was still early enough that there was plenty of time for me to drive back to my own town - but plenty of time for me to stay, too.
And, you see, that was the problem. Sex had reared its lovely but complicated head. I looked at Tommy; I smiled and laughed and told myself to relax; that we needed time to get to know each other in a whole new way, but all I could think about was how good it felt to kiss him, and hug him, and how much I wanted to stick my hands down his pants and feel his naked body against mine... I had turned into a horny teenager again. All those years of waiting, and suddenly I was finding it hard to keep my hands off him for another five minutes.
I found myself wondering if it was easier with a man and a woman, if you just assumed nothing much would happen right away, or if the man automatically tried and the woman automatically turned him down the first couple of times. But something told me it wasn't quite that easy, even in the straight world. How much harder, when you had no real idea of what the other guy expected?
"Well? Are you going to come in?"
Ah. Okay, that question was answered. Now all I had to do was figure out the rest of it. "Sure," I said, trying not to sound like I meant, 'Sure, and by the way, let's get naked.'
By the time we reached the door, I had thought of a few million more complications. Tommy was bi. He had been with women. Probably more women than men. He was used to women. Guys are different from girls, and not just because we have an outie instead of an innie. If we jumped in bed, would he think I'm a slut? Would he think I think he's a slut? Ridiculous, of course, but that's the kind of thing you wonder when you have no clue what you're doing, and you're terrified of making a mistake.
"Jason? Are you okay?"
"Huh? Oh, sure. I'm fine."
Man, I needed to calm down. Maybe a good stiff drink, to take my mind off other things... but that might make it worse.
"Want a beer?"
Suddenly the man had developed the ability to read minds. He must know exactly what I'm thinking... Oh God. "Thanks," I said. Just one couldn't hurt. When he brought it, I took only a sip. We both stood there, sipping, watching each other sip.
"Did you like the restaurant?" Tommy asked after a pause, his voice slightly strained.
It finally dawned on me that he was nervous, too. "Yeah, it was great," I said. Brilliant. Say something else. "Um... Why don't we sit down?" Even more brilliant.
"Okay." We both sank down on the sofa, an arm's length between us, and smiled nervously.
This was so stupid... It wasn't like we were strangers. We were friends, had been for years. We knew each other's life histories. We were on first name terms with each other's parents. We had fought side by side, saved each other's lives dozens of times. We had seen each other naked, for Christ's sake. So why were we sitting here, struggling for something to say?
Maybe our friendship was the problem. It's hard to take a relationship that's been a part of your life for the last decade and turn it on its head. To turn a friend into a lover. What if something went wrong? What if it didn't work out? Our friendship meant too much to me to risk destroying it, even for sex... even for wonderful, hot, fulfilling, incredible sex...
"Jase..."
"Yeah?"
"Do you feel as stupid as I do?"
I blew out a sigh of relief. "Stupider. We're sitting here like..."
"Like two virgins on a first date."
I chuckled. "Yeah, with Daddy watching from the next room." We both laughed. Grabbing onto my courage, I slid over on the couch and landed next to him.
"So... um... What do you want to do now?" Tommy asked, turning his head to look into my eyes, leaning a little closer.
"I'm not sure. Any suggestions?"
"TV? Radio?" He came even closer as I smiled. "Chess? Parcheesi?"
"Parche-" My protest died an early death as his lips brushed mine. So soft... We kissed very gently, barely touching each other. I could feel his breath on my skin. Just those light and almost chaste kisses at first, just a tease, until I raised a hand to caress the side of his face, ran my fingers through his short, spiky hair, and pulled him closer.
Tommy was an excellent kisser. His lips moved over mine, pressing and then withdrawing, nipping gently. And don't get me started on his tongue. Mine went after it first, just long enough to invite it out to play. Then it was conducting a leisurely exploration of my mouth, teasing, tickling, thrusting far inside before withdrawing slowly and taking mine with it. I was in heaven - and starting to imagine what that tongue could do to other parts of my body...
Speaking of other parts - my hands were active, too, moving over Tommy's shoulders, down his arms, across his back, finding every contour, every muscle, following the bumpy line of his spine down to other interesting areas. He was doing pretty much the same thing, one of his hands descending slowly over my ribs and hip and ending up on my thigh.
I was trying to tell myself to slow down, take it easy, we had all the time in the world, don't take the chance of doing something he might not be ready for. But my body had other ideas. My hand moved around Tommy's waist and over his stomach (nice and flat) and started on its way down, giving him the chance to stop me if he wanted to. He didn't. My fingers ran down his zipper; I sighed as he touched me in return...
And the phone rang.
"Dammit!"
That was a consolation; he seemed as irritated at the interruption as I was. With a sigh, Tommy got up and answered it.
"Yeah?" A slight pause. "Oh, hi."
He turned to look at me, smiling as he said into the phone, "Well, I have company. But it's okay. What's up?"
I couldn't help grinning. I could tell him one thing that was up. Or two.
He listened for a little while, his back to me, and then said, "Okay. Sure, tomorrow. See you then," and hung up.
A brief interruption, but had it spoiled his mood? It certainly hadn't spoiled mine, after watching every move Tommy's ass made as he stood talking on the phone. Still, it seemed polite to show interest in something besides the contents of his pants.
"Nothing wrong, I hope," I said.
"No. Hayley has some ideas for equipment. She's coming over tomorrow to work in my lab." He sat again, next to me. "So where were we?"
"I think I remember." It didn't seem right to just grab at his crotch again, so I waited for about five seconds. Then we were both grabbing...
The doorbell rang.
"Shit!" This time it was me cursing.
"I'll get rid of them." Tommy got up, yelled, "Just a minute!" at the door, and took a few deep breaths, obviously trying to get his body under control. I just planned on staying seated.
"Who is it?" he was calling a minute later.
"Conner."
"Jesus, what now..." Tommy only muttered it under his breath, not loud enough to be heard on the other side of the door as he unlocked and opened it.
"Hey, Doctor O. Sorry to just barge in like this. Hope it's not a bad time." A tall, lanky teenager with brown hair was standing there. One of Tommy's new team of Rangers, of course. Conner McKnight. We had been introduced when I visited the high school. A good-looking kid, and probably very nice, but I could have cheerfully strangled him for his lousy sense of timing. He looked past Tommy and spotted me.
"You remember Jason Scott, don't you?" Tommy asked.
"Sure. First red Ranger. I wouldn't forget." The kid walked into the living room, apparently not noticing that Tommy hadn't invited him in.
"Conner, what is it?"
"Well, if you're not busy..." He gave me an apologetic look.
"Go on. Don't mind me." I crossed my arms and leaned back against the couch as Conner turned to Tommy again.
"It's Trent. I know I said we'd work together, but I'm still not sure we can trust him." He went on, something about Trent - whom I had also met - hiding things from them. Ranger business. Important, I guess, but why did he have to show up now to discuss it?
Life's so unfair to gays. If I had been a woman, this Conner kid would have taken one look, apologized for interrupting, and gone off snickering to himself about 'Dr. O's love life. Instead, he just naturally assumed we were doing nothing more important than hanging out discussing the latest football game.
"Look, Conner, I don't see that we have a choice here. We need Trent's powers," Tommy was saying.
"Yeah, but... what happens when he has to fight against his dad? Will he be able to do it?"
"Trent's in a very difficult situation, has been from the beginning. But I have a feeling he'll come through for us."
"Well - I guess, if you say so."
"Go on home. Get some rest." Tommy was gently guiding him in the direction of the door. Yes, Conner, you do that. Go away and let the grownups get back to business.
The doorbell rang again.
This time there were two of them, a black guy and a blonde girl. Ethan and Kira, two of the other Rangers on his new team. Tommy let them in with a resigned expression that none of them seemed to see. We looked at each other as the two newcomers, who seemed to be taking Trent's side, immediately began to argue loudly with Conner. I was on Trent's side myself, since he was the only one who had had the decency not to show up tonight.
I sighed and got to my feet. "It's getting late, and it sounds like you're going to be busy for a while. I'd better get going."
"Okay. I'll walk out with you."
We reached my car without a word. Tommy looked back at the house, probably thinking that the kids could see us from the front windows, but it was too dark for them to see inside the car. When I unlocked the doors, he got in with me.
"Man, Jason, I'm sorry about this," he said.
"No problem. If anyone can understand Ranger business, it's me."
"Still, not the ending I would have liked for the evening."
"Me either, believe me."
We looked into each other's eyes, and leaned together, our lips meeting for another one of those incredible kisses, deep and warm and soft, our tongues renewing their acquaintance, hands going exploring, sliding under shirts, feeling over pants, finding their way between legs...
"We could stay out here for a while..." Tommy whispered.
I was tempted, especially at the way he was nibbling on my earlobe at the time. But I dredged up some shred of dignity and resolve, God knows from where. "No, the kids might come looking for you," I said. "Besides... this isn't the way I want it to be. Not just a few minutes in the back seat of a car."
"I guess you're right." He didn't sound any happier about it than I was.
"We've got time."
"Sure. Lots of it." Tommy glanced at the house again. "Well, I'd better get back in there before they kill each other."
"Yeah. Good night."
"Good night."
We kissed once more, more gently than passionately this time. And then Tommy was out, silhouetted against the lights from the house as he raised a hand to wave, waiting in the doorway for me to pull out into the street.
Next time, I was thinking all the way home. Next time. Soon, I hoped. Very soon.