“I’m just really fucking happy that’s out of the way,” he admits, puffing out his cheeks as he breathes out hard. “When I told them about being bi, I could tell they were confused. Uncle Jes was just like, ‘okay, whatever, as long as you can still toss a hay bale, I don’t care,’ but my parents didn’t get it. My dad asked if I was sure.”
I grimace. He hadn’t mentioned that to me, after he came out to them last week and we’d spoken on the phone.
“But now they’ve met you, and they can see for themselves how great you are. Now they’ll know exactly why I’m sure.” He glances over at me and squeezes my hand again. It feels like he did it to my heart.
Two days here, and it has become extremely obvious to me that I love him. Two days here, and I’m imagining how I might fit in for months. Years. I’m imagining welcoming Nate back home at the end of every day, smelling the sweat on his skin and seeing the smile that’s always on his face. In two days’ time, I’ve had enough daydreams to plan our entire life together.
Falling in love with Nate was a little like stumbling while walking down a hill. I tried to catch myself, but eventually gravity won.
“So, yeah, super glad that’s over with,” he finishes, sighing. “Do you want to go fishing tomorrow? Have you ever been fly fishing before?”
“I’d love to, and yeah. But I could pretend not to know what to do, if you wanted to teach me.” He tips his head back and laughs. “Will the baby be okay while we’re gone?”
“The baby will be okay,” he confirms. “I’ll let Jes know what we’re up to and he’ll handle it. What should we do tonight? Do you like cards? I could teach you how to play Peanuts.”
“Sure.”
He glances at me. “Unless you’ve got another idea?”
“I was sort of hoping you might want to fuck me,” I offer.
“Your idea,” he says swiftly. “Definitely your idea.”
“Nah, let’s play cards,” I tease, and earn myself Nate’s approximation of a glare.
When we get back to the loft, we stop to give Tuna his dinner before heading upstairs. Nate hums under his breath as he pulls off his boots and drops them by the door with a thump. As he walks over to the kitchen, he yawns.
“I slept like shit last night,” he admits, filling a glass of water. I tug off my shirt, and can feel Nate’s eyes on me as I go to the closet to drop it in the hamper.
“Worried about dinner?”
“Yeah. I can’t even tell you how much better I feel right now.”
“I’m glad.”
I don’t hear him put down his glass, and am surprised when hands bracket my hips. As always, the contact is above my clothes, even though I’ve already got my shirt off and am only wearing jeans. I turn so that I’m facing him, and place my own hands on his shoulders.
“Where can I?—”
“Anywhere,” I tell him, and he swoops down to kiss me. Permission granted, he runs his palms up my sides and back down to my hips, letting them rest on the unclothed portion this time.
“I’m nervous,” he admits.
“I know.” The look on his face back when I’d first told him I usually top is one I’ll not forget anytime soon. He’d looked so uneasy, and the expression was one too close to fear for comfort. I’ll never bring up the possibility of him bottoming again. I can’t imagine anything worse than making him feel as though he has to do something he doesn’t want to do. Something that frightens him.
“It’s dumb,” he says with a small shrug. “It seems like anal is this huge thing, you know? Like, youhaveto do it, or something.”
“I know,” I repeat. “But we don’t;youdon’t have to. We can have sex the way we want to, and if that doesn’t include anal, then that’s fine. I didn’t miss it before I met you, and I don’t miss it now.”
“Really?” His shoulders relax under my hands.
“Really. I never did it very often, anyway. I guess I’m old-fashioned and save it for the people I really care about.” He smiles. This close, I can see gold flecks in the green of his eyes, as though they were meant to be hazel but couldn’t commit to it. I brush a thumb underneath one, across his cheek. “Yes or no, it’s up to you.”
“Yes,” he says, smiling.
He pulls his shirt off, but leans back down to kiss me instead of continuing to undress. I can always gauge what Nate’s in the mood for by the way he does it. Tonight, the way his lips slide against mine, smooth and gentle, feels at odds with the insistent press of his dick against my leg. Tucking my hands between us, I undo his belt.
“Give me a second in the bathroom,” I request. “Do you have lube?”
