Ran looks unsure and a little worried. “But you just blew in my mouth.”
I huff out a laugh. “I sure did. Which is why I want to kiss you.”
His brows come together as he pushes his glasses, which had slipped down a bit, back up his nose. “You don’t… mind?”
“Of course not. You made me feel really good. It would be shitty of me to not even give you a thank-you kiss.”
He gives me a little nod without saying anything, and wheels start turning in my head. “Does that mean that you would’ve been grossed out if I’d kissed you right after I got you off? If so, that’s OK. I just want to know for next time.” I give Ran a look I hope comes across as flirtatious.
I’m rewarded with that smile I love so much. It feels like I’m watching the sun come out every time I see it. “Next time! You liked it, then? I did good?” he asks eagerly.
He just makes me warm all over. “Yeah, Stud.” My voice comes out hoarse. “Really good.”
My limbs are heavy with satiation and I should really be sleeping, but I’m practically vibrating with energy. I’m in bed, but sleep is the furthest thing from my mind. I’ve known for years I wanted Ran, but I had no idea I wanted himthis badly, this intensely, this completely.
I’m still thrilled that he agreed to sleep in my bed tonight when I asked. After we settled in, he kept talking —apologizing in advance if he snored, asking what was up with all the pillows, saying the sheets were nice and soft —and then he was out, almost in mid-sentence. It was like my hand stroking his hair suddenly flipped an invisible light switch.
I have an arm and a leg draped over Ran’s body, grounding me. He’s not snoring, actually —just breathing quietly and evenly. It’s so fucking sweet and soothing I want to stay awake all night just so I can listen to it.
I had thought —alot—over the years about what it would be like to kiss Ran. The reality blew even my hottest fantasies out of the water. All I could think as he ground his mouth against mine, hot and urgent, was that I wanted the taste of his lips and the wonderfully eager sounds he made to be inside of me forever. I wanted to make his kiss a part of me, weave it into the fiber of my being, claim it as mine.
Ran seemed to want that kiss just as badly. He licked inside my mouth like he was trying to taste me, filling my mouth with his tongue as if he couldn’t stand to have even that much empty space between our two bodies. That first taste of his lips made me think of coming inside on a clear winter night; of bracing, star-speckled infinity yielding to bright, glowing warmth. He tasted like coming home.
Gently, I press my lips to his bare shoulder. “I love you so much,” I whisper against his skin. Ran stirs underneath me and my heart jumps into my throat. I’m terrified that I woke him up and that he heard my heartfelt andwaytoo-much-too-soon confession. But he just murmurs something that’s not quite words and stills again.
The sense of yearning that threatens to overwhelm my mind is sharp and heady, almost enough to make me dizzy. My longing has never been like this before, and it takes me a minute to realize why: Before that day when Ran materialized at the end of my bar as if by magic, this was only in my head. But suddenly I’ve taken a leap from the realm of the imagination into the fantastically and terrifyinglyreal.
I want to belong to Ran so badly, it’s chewing at me from the inside out, like the fiercest hunger I’ve ever felt in my life.It’s a dangerous feeling, because I would give him whatever part of myself he asked for without hesitating, without a thought or regard to the cost. I’m so tauntingly, agonizingly close to everything I’ve fantasized about.
I can’t stand the thought of having come this far only to have it slip through my fingers. Because the only thing that would be worse than never having had this day with him would be never having another one like it.
16
AARYN
Iwake up disoriented. The morning light is streaming in from the wrong direction. It takes me a minute to realize I’m in Errol’s bed. As soon as it hits me, the memories of yesterday come rushing back.
I’m wide-awake in an instant, my brain suddenly racing. My best friend blew me. Offered his mouth up, just like that. Who does that? And I leaned back with my legs spread wide, my fingers laced together behind my head and told him to have at it. Who the fuck doesthat?And then I told him I wanted to return the favor and gave him what was probably an objectively shitty blowjob.
I still got him off, though. The memory of his taste on my tongue — salty, musky, a little metallic — makes my heart take off at a gallop. It tasted like the essence of him. And I’d be lying to myself if I said I didn’t want to taste it again.
But… whatareErrol and I now? Can we go back to being regular friends now that we’ve had each other’s dicks in our mouths? And… do Iwantto go back? It feels like a dangerous question, but the expressions on his face, the sounds he let out, the way he touched my face and made me feel at once vulnerableand all-powerful —everything about yesterday was a level of hot that I never knew existed.
I’ve always liked sex. But now, every encounter before yesterday pales in comparison when I look back at it. It’s like I’d been listening to an amazing album wearing earplugs this whole time, and I’m only now realizing and appreciating just howgoodit really is.
I never really thought about being with another dude. Does this mean I’m gay? Or bi, or something else? Or has it always just been different with Errol? Looking back, with the benefit of several years of adulthood under my belt, there’s some stuff that kind of makes sense now.
Physical contact with him always felt natural. He never minded the way I would fall asleep against him sometimes when we were watching a movie. Even though the idea of doing that with anybody else would have been mortifying, I was never embarrassed. At some point, I started hugging him goodbye when he left to go back home. I never asked myself why —it just felt like the right thing to do. And when he tightened his arm across my shoulders with an intensity I wasn’t expecting the first time, I kept on doing it.
Back in school, neither of us really had any other friends. It was just the two of us. Somewhere along the way, I guess my brain made a leap of logic: That meant Errol was mine. And even though it might mean getting my ass kicked, I was never going to stop trying to protect what was mine.
The way I’d act out to distract bullies, to draw attention away from him and towards myself —I was trying to keep him safe. It didn’t feel like that back then, though. It was just something Ididwithout thinking about, even though I wasn’t very good at it. My smart mouth was the only —imperfect — tool I had.
I never spared a thought as to whether or not Errol felt that same possessiveness about me. As I start to turn it over in myhead, though, it hits me: His intimacy with all the details of my career and my social media, the way he was consistently and invisibly keeping tabs on my life all the way down to what goddamn brand of bourbon I liked… He must have felt it, too: The sense that we belonged to each other.
Next to me, Errol stirsas if he could hear my thoughts in his sleep. I stay perfectly still, my thoughts racing. Should I pretend to still be asleep? Should I get up? Is it weird that I’m still in his bed? Is he going to want to kiss me again?Shit—should I have snuck out of bed and brushed my teeth?
I should feign sleep until I can figure out what to say or do. As that thought is going through my head, though, Errol’s eyes blink open. He gives me a sweet, bleary smile that makes my brain calm down.
