His eyes over me shamelessly and I shiver under his gaze. "Yes. I do."
"Curtis!" a voice shouts from the end of the hallway and both of us jump and look to see a boy's head poking around a doorway. "Hurry up." The boy peers at me before disappearing.
I turn back to Curtis and realise we're still standing close to each other, but neither of us jumped apart. We share a gaze.
"Drive me back to my house?"
He's confused for a second before he nods. "Give me a second," he says. He unhooks a pair of car keys from a hook on the wall and heads down the hallway to murmur something to his siblings about telling their parents he's going out for a bit. They whine but agree, and soon Curtis is beside me at the front door.
We leave the house and he locks the door behind us before leading me to his car. He gets in the driver's seat and I get in the passenger seat and he then we're on the road.
"So," I say.
"So." He glances sideways at me before focusing on the road. "I already went. It's your turn."
I smile because I'm no longer worried about the possibility that he'll break my heart. I know he won't.
"Fine. I like you. And I don't know what the situation is with your sexuality and how open you are or want to be about it, but… I want to be with you."
"As boyfriends?" he asks.
The sound of that word fills my stomach with butterflies. "Ideally," I say. Then, because I can't control myself, I start blabbering. "I suppose we could be friends if we have to."
"Friends can't touch," he says.
"They can."
"They can't kiss."
"Well. I reckon I could stand it, just being friends with you."
He chuckles. "You kissed me first. Do you think you could control yourself?"
"You're right. I wouldn't." When Curtis doesn't respond immediately, I add, "Curtis, you're killing me here."
"Shit, sorry," he says, and he does sound regretful. "The answer is yes. Obviously. I want to be your boyfriend."
For the rest of the drive, I watch the rain slide down the glass of the car before being smeared away by the windscreen wipers. I stare at Curtis's profile, and he can't stop smiling either. I won't be able to sleep tonight.
When Curtis arrives on my street, he parks across the road from my house. Despite the darkness in the car, I can still make out his silhouette and enough of his features to see his soft smile and heated eyes.
"Kiss me," he says.
"Bossy," I say, but I'm already leaning over.
One of my hands blindly grabs the car door behind him and the other holds his shoulder. I lower my head and touch my lips to his, and soon our mouths are open, and he makes a small groaning sound that goes straight to my dick. Our kisses are messy, but in the darkness, we don't care, and when Curtis pushes me back into my seat so he can lean over me, get on top, I let him. I don't care that a seatbelt is digging into my back or that the car is cold because Curtis is there and his skin is so warm and his hands are gentle and his mouth is desperate and violent.
"I should go inside," I say the first time we stop to catch our breaths. Rain splatters against the windows, making it impossible to see outside.
"Okay," Curtis says.
And then I kiss him again. And then we catch our breaths. And then he kisses me again.
"My parents are going to worry about me," I say ten minutes later when he's pressing a line of kisses under my jaw.
"I know," he murmurs. "We should stop. We have all the time in the world to do this later."
"Like tomorrow. It's Saturday tomorrow."
