I unzip my jacket and shrug it off, leaving it where it drops to the floor. Then I cup the back of Marlon’s head and get close, until our lips almost meet.
I wait.
I want this so badly, want to taste him, hear the sounds he makes—but he needs to want it, too. I want him to be the one who takes the final step that connects us. Make sure he’s in.
The tiniest huff of frustration escapes Marlon, then he closes the gap between us and our lips touch. It’s the most innocent of kisses and I’m amazed that my heart flutters. I’ve done this—and much more than this—dozens of times, yet somehow, this barely-there contact is the most upsetting touch of them all. In the best way possible.
I smile, then I lick Marlon’s lower lip. He moans quietly, possibly the most delicious sound I’ve ever heard. He grips my upper arm tightly and I hum contentedly, soaking in the surprise in his tone.
We stay like this, kissing carefully, almost chastely, and it’s dizzying and the best kind of overwhelming. I’ve had a crush on Marlon for ages; it was pretty bad when we were both sixteenand has waned over the years, but it’s never fully gone away. It all comes rushing back now, as I’m finally allowed to touch him, marvelling in the strength of his fingers and the warmth of his mouth.
I think Marlon is used to this now, so I grip his hips and pull him even closer. Fuck. He’s hard. Marlon Rothe, the most disciplined, introverted, perfect man I know is flush against my body and presses his erection against mine through our jeans. His fingers thread into my hair and he groans into my mouth, then rocks his hips up, chasing friction. I think I might float.
My exhale stutters against my lips and I pull away so I can look at him. “You’re fucking incredible,” I whisper and take a deep breath to steady myself. I want to undress him and throw him on the bed, but we need to do this at Marlon’s pace.
He laughs like he doesn’t believe me. He clearly has no idea what he does to me. How hot he is. His cheeks are flushed, lips red, and devourable. I want to take him apart. But I also don’t want to rush him. I’ve never done this before with someone so inexperienced. Can I suggest we move to the bed? Would that be too much?
Okay, no. I’m not going to overthink this. Let’s not make this bigger than it is. “Okay,” I say, and lean in slightly so our noses touch. “You know you can always tell me to shut up, right? Or stop? Or, like, slap me?”
“Slap you?” Confusion is thick in his voice. “Is that a, erm, sex thing?”
“No!” I laugh and take a step back so I can run a hand over my face. “Sorry, I’m doing this all wrong. What I’m trying to say is, I want to get you on the bed so we can take this further, but I also don’t want to be, you know, too pushy or whatever. So. I’ll ask for what I want, and I hope you’ll do the same thing. And if you think I’m an idiot, or I’m talking too much, you can?—”
Marlon steps close to me again and shuts me up with a kiss.
I smile against his mouth. “Or you could do that,” I agree. “Much nicer than getting slapped.”
“Mmh.” He’s a little nervous, I can tell from the way his shoulder twitches, but his face is relaxed and he nods. And then, incredible man that he is, he grabs my hand and leads the way over to the bed.
Is this the same Marlon who denied ever finding another man attractive earlier? Am I such a good kisser that I’ve convinced him of this already? I was ready to give us a lot more time before we got to this point. But I shouldn’t have underestimated Marlon. He may be an anxious mess sometimes, but once he’s set his mind on something, he goes for it. There’s a reason we both made it to the first team and have managed to stay there. We’re idiots, but we’re ambitious.
Of course that would translate to the bedroom.
And, fuck, that’s hot. The idea of Marlon bringing his typical energy to all of this makes me want to dive right in. But it’s not about me. So I grin up at Marlon and lean in to nip at his lips.
Hegrowls, deep in his throat, and, fuck, yes.
Yes.
I love this. Love—this. Yes. This is super casual and there are no feelings beyond being turned on.
Marlon pushes me backwards and it catches me by surprise, making me tumble backwards. A surprised laugh escapes me and I grab at his shirt, taking him with me. I topple on top of him, both of us breathless.
We look at each other and the laughter in his eyes slowly dies, replaced with a seriousness that threatens to make me choke. Marlon is so intense. Locked in on his target. Fuck. I bet I could get hard from him staring at me like that.
But, first things first. “Hey,” I say quietly and love how I can basically feel his lips under mine, we’re so close. “Before we go all in on this, can we just check in, very briefly? I want to makesure this is good for you. So. Any preferences? Boundaries? Kinks?” I grin to take the awkwardness out of the moment, but Marlon still stiffens.
“I, er.” He swallows. “No? I think? I haven’t really—thought about this.”
“That’s cool, we can figure it out. And, do you think you would prefer topping? Bottoming? Both? Neither?”
He stares at me with mild panic in his eyes and I hasten to add an explanation. “Not saying we need to go there tonight. Just making sure, in case anything happens.”
A blush blooms in his cheeks and spreads all the way down his neck. I want to trace the outline with my tongue, but hold back. This is too important.
Marlon closes his eyes. “Talking about this makes me not want to do anything, Freddie. God. How can you be so—so blasé about it?”
I lean down to kiss him and can’t help making it tender and sweet the way I never usually do. “We can stop at any time, you know that, yeah? But we have to talk. It’s important to me that I don’t do anything you’re not sure about.”
