Dylan stroked Callum’s arm. “Have you?”
“Yeah. Lots.”
“Would you tell me why?”
“Because I love you. Because I trust you. Because I want to give myself to you completely.” His blush deepened. “And because I only ever dream about us having sex that way round.”
“How often do you dream about it?” Dylan asked.
Callum turned to face him and stared into his eyes. “Every night.” He kissed Dylan softly. “Take me home, Dylan. Make love to me.”
Dylan put his hand on the back of Callum’s head and pulled him close for a longer, harder kiss. “I’d love to, baby.”
They packed everything up. The pan was a blackened mess, so they dumped it in the first bin they passed on their way back to the flat.
Whether or not burning their regrets had truly helped, Dylan felt a lot lighter than when they’d left the flat. He also felt humbled and fortunate that Callum trusted him. He would make Callum’s first time bottoming as beautiful and perfect as it could possibly be, then he’d hold him close for the rest of the night, showing him how much he was loved.
