Dylan rested his chin on top of my head and squeezed me tightly as he released a deep exhale. I felt his body relax against me as he pressed his lips to my hair. “I’m happy, too.” I moved from the floor to his side on the bed, angling toward him. “Why haven’t you told me this before, though?” Dylan asked.
“I don’t know. I mean, this is a lot to take in.”
“It’s been almost a month.” His words took on a frustrated tone.
“Yeah, I know. We’ve been together a few weeks, but you’ve known you’re gay for far longer than that. You’ve had time to work it all out in your head.”
“Yeah, right. You think I have this all figured out?” He shot up from the bed, clearly frustrated, his arms flailing to the side. “I don’t have shit figured out!” Silently, he stood brooding in front of his window. I waited a minute before I walked over to him, wrapped my arms around him from behind. His body tensed and it put me on guard.
“Is this okay?” I asked nervously, not sure if I was crossing a line that hadn’t yet been mended. He turned around in the circle of my arms and since we were roughly the same height our lips were near touching.
His eyes softened as the tension simply vanished. “Of course it’s okay. It’s what I want. I wish you would make the first move every now and then. I feel like you don’t want this.”
I paused, hoping my words would convey the emotion I was feeling. “No. I want this. I’m just trying to figure out what it all means, how it changes things, who it makes me. But even with all of that shit,” I brushed back a few strands of hair that always flopped in his eye, “I know that I want you, even though I’m not always great at showing it.”
With the pad of my thumb, I brushed his lower lip and then held his jaw in my hand. When he leaned into my touch, a feeling of calm moved through me. I moved in and kissed his cheek, nibbled across his lightly dusted-in-scruff jawline, and licked the outer shell of his ear. A low moan of appreciation vibrated between us and I wasn’t sure from whose chest it came.
Attacking his lips, I needed to taste him, needed to know we were okay. It was a rough kiss. My fingers dug into his back, clawing, grasping onto him. He did the same, never letting me move more than an inch away from him.
“When are your parents coming home?” I muttered breathlessly against his lips.
His hands dove into my hair, pulling my face to the side as he pressed his lips against my neck. “Not till five. We’ve got time.” Pushing me back, we stumbled toward the bed. My knees hit the mattress, but before I could fall backward, I turned us around so that he fell beneath me.
Dylan lay there, shocked and wide-eyed at the forwardness of my move. I grabbed the hem of my shirt and in one, long, painfully slow drag from behind, I pulled it over my head. Dylan watched it fall to the floor next to me as he swallowed hard.
“It’s my turn to make the first move.” I pressed my body into his as he sank further into the mattress. His hard cock pulsed against mine as we moved in a perfectly erratic rhythm. Dylan’s hands roamed all over my body – scratching angry red lines across my back, gently ghosting whisper-soft fingertips across my chest. “More,” his voice trembled.
He must have seen me deliberate for a moment longer than I should have. Roughly, he grabbed my face and attacked my mouth. There was so much hunger, so much desperation in that kiss; his words weren’t needed, but he said them anyway.
“Stop. Now. Just stop thinking. We wouldn’t be doing this,” his eyes roved down to our writhing bodies before holding my anxious stare, “if it wasn’t right. We wouldn’t be doing this if we didn’t feel something. So just feel it.” He pushed his cock up against mine and I swore I could feel it pulse and lengthen even more, despite the fabric separating us.
His mouth crashed into mine again and I kissed him back with everything I couldn’t say – the words just didn’t exist in my mind, yet. I shoved his shirt up and over his head, and grew at least another fucking inch as my eyes roved over every inch of his perfect chest. I was straddling his hips, but the sight of him half-naked beneath me made me lean back, just so I could devour him with my eyes.
“You see me without my shirt all the time in the locker room.” His words had this breathlessness about them that made my mouth go dry.
“Yeah, but it’s different now.” He shifted underneath me, pulling himself up so I was essentially straddling his lap.
He drifted his fingers through my hair, sending a river of goose bumps to flow across my skin. “Nothing’s different. And that’s the best part. We’re still us, except now we’re actually being honest.” He paused at my confused look. “With ourselves.” He kissed me softly, more tenderly than he ever had in any of our stolen moments. “And with each other.” He pulled back marginally and made sure I was still with him. “Shane…it’s always been you. I may not have been confused over being gay, but falling in lo…I mean wanting your best friend when you’re not sure thathe’sgay, that shit fucks with your head. But I know how I feel, now.” The bastard chose that moment to reach between us and stroke my cock.
I couldn’t form words at the feel of his hand gripping me over the fabric of my pants. I arched my back; my head fell between my shoulders and I flinched when his fingers lightly danced along my exposed neck. “This is fucking sexy as anything,” he growled as he lightly brushed his fingers over my Adam’s apple.
“Can I?” he asked as his fingers trembled at the button of my jeans. The subtle nod of my head was all he needed to not only unbutton and unzip, but to pull the waistband down over my hips, too, leaving me in just my boxers before him. He outlined my length with his finger before gripping me with my strong fingers.
“Fuuuuck, Dyl,” I growled and shoved myself shamelessly into his hand. His other hand went around my neck again as he pulled us back down on the bed. We rolled to our sides, and I repaid him the favor of getting rid of his jeans as well. Dylan toyed with the edge of my boxers, forcing me to bite my tongue, to swallow back my desire for more.
And then a single finger dipped behind the thin cotton fabric, brushing the ready-to-explode tip of my cock. “Yeah, I thought so.” He grinned proudly as he spread the bead of moisture around. “These need to go.” He smirked as he playfully snapped the elastic waistband.
I don’t know if it was my desire to feel more of his touch, or my desire to touch him in return, but I nodded, and in an instant, my boxers were on the floor. He fused his mouth to mine and he stroked my shaft, root to tip and back again, over and over until I was right on the edge of my control.
“Dyl…fuck.” I lost all sense of control when he gently cupped my sac, lightly scraping his short nails over the pulled-tight skin.
I’d felt this feeling a million times before, but tingling gathering at the base of my spine was different now. It was a huge. It meant more than coming.
It meant something else entirely.
To say I was hurt and surprised when I felt Shane pull back from my hand would be an understatement. He didn’t want this. I was pushing him too fast. This was too much, too soon for him. He would leave and that would be the last of whatever this thing was that was brewing between us. Anxiety and sadness bloomed dreadfully in my chest, but I bit those feelings back and attacked his mouth instead.
When he kissed me back with just as much intensity, I felt like I could breathe again. But it didn’t stop me from making sure he was okay. “You still with me?” His hazel eyes were hooded with lust; a storm of desire brewed there as I continued to lightly stroke him.
