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Truth be told, it all seemed to be going great. Something of a routine presented itself by chance. As usual, we studied together. And as usual, we worked out together. But these all felt a little different, just slightly off-center. The best I could come up with to describe the change was the magnetic aura around us that never stopped pulling my gaze toward him, never slowed our hearts orbiting one another, and never stopped whispering the dirty things I wanted from him.
In all of this, I wondered how we had never done this before. Now, it seemed so obvious. Now, it seemed like we should have started years ago. What a waste of time, I thought once, and then decided it wasn’t exactly right. We had practiced and stumbled and got it wrong so many times with other people that there was a sort of wisdom we brought into this crazy new thing.
When we first went to a gay club on the far side of the town where we were sure nobody from our real lives would know us, it was electric. We danced like we had never danced before. Both of us had some skill at that, but we had never been each other’s dance partners. It was one of the many firsts. And if someone randomly recognized us from the rink, they never said. And we never talked about those concerns.
It was good. All of it.
So long as we could keep some thoughts at a distance, things were going well. We weren’t talking about his parents or my dad’s unpredictable behavior. We weren’t talking about spring break and our return home for a week. We weren’t talking about trying anything more serious in bed either.
If these unspoken worries created any friction and frustration, we dealt with it the only way we knew how. We exercised harder and put our mouths to work in increasingly more creative ways. It turned out that sucking Sebastian’s nipples while working him with my hand was a quick way to make him come if I weren’t extra careful. It also turned out that I was incredibly easy to turn on if he touched me in public. I hadn’t known this about myself until we watched a movie at the cinema and Sebastian placed his hand on my thigh. A couple of rows in front of and behind us were empty, so I didn’t protest, and his hand rose all the way to my balls. For another two hours, I was lowkey horny for him and couldn’t get his risky behavior out of my mind. Later, when we were alone, I had the craziest orgasm of my life.
We were almost a month into our relationship when we came the closest to fooling around more seriously. We didn’t cross that big, scary bridge, but Sebastian was the big spoon, his dick pressed against my cheeks, his hand traveling up and down my torso. When I felt him getting hard, I pushed my butt gently back against his crotch and one thing led to another until he was thrusting his hard cock between my cheeks to the finish line. It was exhilarating in its own way. Knowing that this was something I had never considered doing, knowing it was Sebastian, and knowing it was leading us to more serious things felt incredible. And when he came, it only took a gentle grip of his hand around my dick to make me come.
Still, the faint undertone of anxiety remained.
It was like a big exam that was some time away. We didn’t have to hurry, but we were getting closer to it by the minute. We could wait and put it off, but that didn’t make it any less certain. The exam was coming. We had to either do it or admit defeat.
Or…
But I wasn’t sure if there were alternatives. It seemed to me that we couldn’t avoid it. And shouldn’t for that matter. Everything else we had done felt better than I could have hoped for. Perhaps that would, too, even if the thought made me equally excited and scared.
I wasn’t sure if I feared that it would hurt as much as I feared disliking it. Pain I could live with, but not liking it was too terrible to imagine. Would we have to give this up, then?
The thought made me ball my fists, nearly breaking the box of chocolate I was carrying. I wouldn’t give him up. Not for all the money and power in the world. But would I have to let him go? Would keeping him do more harm than good? Would I be trapping him?
I returned to the house and stuffed the box of chocolate inside my jacket to avoid curious looks. Luckily, nobody was downstairs to see me enter, anyway. I quietly climbed the stairs and paused in front of our room. I was about to touch the door knob when a frustrated growl reached my ears. A sharp clack of something falling to the floor followed it and then a thump that resembled a foot hitting the side of a desk. Sebastian cursed.
I was instantly aware of having two options. I could either walk away and act like nothing happened or I could come in and deal with whatever troubled him. I just couldn’t keep standing here and eavesdropping.
My hand made the decision for me. The knob turned and I pushed the door open to the last thing I expected to see. Wearing a plain white T-shirt and an old pair of black sweatpants, Sebastian stood on one foot, the other one shaking the pain of the thump out of itself. The floor was covered with an old, white bed sheet, scattered with paint that matched the paint on Sebastian’s fingers and T-shirt.
“Fuck,” he said, his tone equal parts worried and guilty. “You weren’t supposed to come back so soon.”
I’d snuck out to buy the chocolate under the excuse I had to skim through some books at the library. Truth be told, I had stayed out longer than I’d expected after running into Phoenix. “What’s going on?” I asked, amusement in my tone unmistakable.
Frustration replaced guilt on his face. “It’s pointless,” he despaired and curled his legs under his butt as he sat on the big, white sheet on the floor. Turned face-down was a square canvas and I began connecting the dots.
“Show me,” I said as I shut and locked the door, curiosity exploring inside of me. “I wanna see.”
“Hell no,” he said and pulled the canvas away. Where it had lain, a thick smear of several warm colors remained on the sheet. “I’m useless, Ty. I’m totally useless.”
“I can find a few good uses for you,” I said playfully.
He shot me a serious and almost desperate look. No jokes, it said. It served to remind me that we weren’t, in fact, putting each other to all the good uses that we expected. “You know what today is,” he said gently as I sat on the clean bit of the sheet.
“Our one-month suckaversary,” I said as I pulled out the box of chocolate. “Don’t touch it with those fingers.” He almost laughed as I yanked the chocolate slightly out of his reach.
He scanned the box and smiled softly, sadly. “I gave you the same one the night I found Jennifer and Pizza Boy showering together.”
“The snowball that started the avalanche,” I said. I shrugged like it was nothing. “I figured you’d like the symbolism.”
“I do,” he said, but a frustrated sigh followed. “That’s sweet, Ty. And what I got you is…” He looked around. “A whole lot of shit to help me clean up.” He looked at his fingers. “I should have used a brush,” he whispered in horror.
I could barely contain the welling laughter. “Can I see, though?”
“It’s all wrong, Ty,” he said sternly, but sadness and regret surfaced in the next moment. “It looked so much easier in the tutorial. I thought…fuck, I don’t know what I was thinking. I wanted to do something nice for you. So far, it’s always you making the big moves, being the considerate one, saving my sanity, cheering me up, kissing me, calling us boyfriends. I feel so useless.”
“Sebastian, it’s just a painting. It can’t be that bad,” I teased him.
