But eventually it got too cold, so we got the telescope and got back into Shane’s Bronco.
I told him how nice and special tonight was. He said it was special for him too. I don’t want to scare Shane away by saying things, like how I really feel about him. I don’t want to drive him away, and I definitely do not want to losehim even as a friend. So, I left a lot of things unsaid. But I tried to kiss him like the way I feel about him. I don’t know if he could feel it, but I felt something from him besides his boner.
I don’t know, but I think I’m in love. Really, really in love.
14
Ethan
January 1999
I just want toshut him up.
I want to shut Shane Carraway’s helpful and kind mouth up.
And if I have to kiss him to do it, so be it. And if I have to grab his shirt and pull him toward me to kiss him again, so be it. And if I have to pull him down on top of me on this motel bed to kiss him some more, then so be that too.
He kisses the same. There was a pattern and a rhythm to kissing Shane Carraway. The way it started. The way it progressed. I haven’t forgotten and neither has he, and my body is responding. We’re kissing each other as if we need each other’s breaths to survive. Maybe we do.
He would always kiss me slow and gentle. Wrapping his arms around me. I never felt safer. Sure, my parents were always there for us. Sure, we lived in a relatively safe town. Sure, I had a big brother to protect me.
But no one knew me the way Shane did.
And that’s why I felt so safe with him.
That’s why it hurt so much when he disappeared on me.
I drag my teeth across his bottom lip, and he groans into my mouth. He pulls away from me. “Ethan…what—”
“Shut up.” I grab his face and smush his cheeks. “Shut the hell up, Shane.” I kiss him again.
I roll on top of him and feel around for the buttons on his jeans. He’s stunned, lying under me like a starfish, then his hands slide under my sweater, brushing over my skin, his thumb grazing a nipple. I sit on his hips and take it off, looking down at him looking up at me. He looks confused. And turned on. And maybe a little worried.
I lean down to kiss him again, softer, then rub my crotch up against him and he groans again. He breaks the kiss and stares up at me, his hands on my face. “Maybe we should talk about this first.”
“I don’t want to talk. I just want you to touch me,” I plead with him.
He blinks, then pulls my face down to kiss me again, his tongue pushing into my mouth. I slide my hands under his sweatshirt and take it off him. As we roll around on the bed, our lips crashing into each other in desperate, open-mouthed kisses, there’s the sound of zippers, the buckle of my belt being undone, the snap of it against my hip as Shane tugs it off. I’m vaguely aware of Mulder and Scully talking about aliens on TV.
My hands grope Shane’s naked body until I find his dick. I spit on my hand, and I have to move my arm when Shane’s hand wraps around my dick. And then we’re laying there, side-by-side, face-to-face, jerking each other off like maniacs.
This was my Seventh Grade Fantasy.
And Eighth Grade.
Ninth.
Tenth.
And, if I’m being honest, even after he was gone from my life.
Shane was always so chaste, so prudish with me that I came up with a theory once I got to college that it was because he wasn’t really into dudes. Maybe I was just anexperimentto him. His kid with Gina proved it. But it was also because I met other guys at school who weren’t the least bit prudish with me.
So, in a way, I can’t believe this. I can’t believe Shane Carraway is kissing me, jerking me off, and fucking his cock into my hand. I can’t believe it’s him that’s got me gasping into his mouth and ready to blow so soon and so fast, my body shudders like an electric shock went through it, and I come all over his hand and stomach.
I’m so brain-dead from it, I don’t know when exactly he comes after me, but when he does, he jizzes all over me and the covers.
I lay my head against his to catch my breath.
