I don’t just feel attracted to him. I’m hit by another wave of lust. I’m usually so casual and chill when I’m with a guy, but now I’m swept up. Alexander’s right here, and I want to put my hands all over him.
Disorienting. Or at least it should be. But then Alexander blinks and squeezes my hand, and I’m grounded again.
It feels like there’s a lot on my plate, a lot that I might fuck up. But whatever this is with Alexander, it’s not going to be a mistake. He’s trusting me with something big, and I’m going to make sure that when we’re done, he realizes just how sexy and desirable and special he is.
I lean forward and brush another quick kiss across his lips. “Think about what you want to try tonight,” I tell him. “I’ll put new sheets on my bed for you.”
* * *
Alexander
Rafael never changes his sheets.
It’s the most inconsequential thing to be thinking about, but as we sprawl out on his bed together and I feel the soft, fresh cotton sheet beneath us, it still kind of shocks me.
Rafael finally put clean sheets on his bed, and he did it for me.
We’re in our underwear, him a little blue pair of boxers and me green boxer briefs. Last time we hooked up, it kind of just happened. But now we both know what we’re doing, so there’s this kind of expectation in the air. We’re both hard and smiling, looking at each other and then looking away again.
I let myself drag my eyes up and down Rafael’s body, indulging like I’ve never quite allowed myself to before. He’s a little hairy, and there’s a patch of fur on his chest that’s grown in since we first met. He’s recently cleaned up his hair, and the length on top is neatly combed back. The sharp lines of the haircut frame the depth of his eyes and the dark circles of his glasses. His beard grows in, black and neatly trimmed, completing the gorgeous symmetry of his features.
His broad chest, gentle hands, even his spicy, oaky scent—all of it is familiar to me, but now somehow new, too. I’m allowed to linger over his body like I’ve never been before, seeing it for the first time.
Rafael reaches out and strokes the side of my face. “Want do you want, Alexander? What would make you happy?”
I feel like I’m floating. “It’s hard to answer,” I admit, then laugh. “You probably don’t think it’s a difficult question.”
Rafael adjusts his glasses. “A lot of guys I hook up with don’t want to talk much. But they’re usually the ones who don’t know how to enjoy themselves.”
He strokes my arm. His hands are so smart. I’ve spent countless hours watching him draw, and I know there’s something magic to the way his hands move. When he traces his fingers down my bicep, I twitch with pleasure, then let out a shaky breath.
“It’s okay, Alexander,” he says gently. “Tell me what you want.”
There are so many ways to answer that question, way more than I could ever say. But I already feel like I’m going to explode, and my muscles tremble just from the expectation. “Can we just touch?” I ask, then close my hand over his. “I think that would be nice.”
Rafael squeezes my arm. “That sounds perfect.”
He leans forward and kisses me lightly, and I kiss him back. The slowness is nice. I hear traffic on the street outside, and the mess of Rafael’s drawings and books and collection of vintage illustrations surrounds us. The bed is clear, though, a little oasis where he kisses me.
I push my fingers through his hair, tousling it out of place. We kiss harder, and his beard scrapes against me. Rafael opens his mouth wide, and I lick his teeth, which earns a grunt from him.
Rafael grinds his body up against mine. “You’re so nice to touch,” he says under his breath.
“You, too,” I manage to answer. Rafael takes his glasses off and puts them aside, then returns to me with a kiss. This time, my energy kicks up, and I push myself against him as our tongues meet.
I want him so bad, and I can finally have him.
Rafael palms my cock through my underwear. The relief of the pressure kicks through my muscles. I find his cock through his boxers and grip him back, squeezing his rigid length as my breath hitches.
“Here,” Rafael says, then grabs my underwear and slowly tugs them off. “I want all of you.”
My cheeks are warm. I find his boxers, then tug them off, too. Rafael takes me in his arms and rolls me over with him, our naked bodies writhing together everywhere. “Show me how you like to touch yourself,” he tells me.
I’m on my side, facing him. My cock strains against my abs, and I’m desperate for him to touch me. Instead, though, I reach down and take my cock, and try to work up the courage to masturbate like he isn’t there.
“Wait,” Rafael says, then rummages in his nightstand. “Here.”
I take the lube he offers, a little bottle that says something about coconut oil. “Thanks,” I say, and when I rub it up my cock, it slicks me like lotion.
