Page 85 of On Your Knees

When he’s ready, I lube my dick, then I settle behind him again. He makes a small sound of pleasure when I push against his hole, stretching him with my cock.

I suck in a breath at the surge of pleasure, but I go slow, easing in a little at a time. I wrap my arms around him, hooking one hand over his shoulder to hold him. I scissor his legs with mine, turning him partway onto his front, and I push all the way inside him.

I gasp against him at the joining, and he shudders under me, moaning and clenching on my cock. I draw back and thrust into him. He cries out. I bury my face against the back of his neck and thrust again.

I don’t mean to start fucking him, but his sounds of pleasure are too much and I want him too much and it feels too goddamn good.

“Fuck,” he murmurs. “Yes. Fuck, oh my God, yes.”

I’m driving him into the mattress now. I’m getting rough, but it doesn’t feel ugly. It just feels like need and closeness and pleasure.

“You’re gonna make me come,” Levi gasps. “Fuck, Ethan, that’s gonna—fuck—oh my God—hnnn!”

His cries become wordless as he starts coming. I don’t think I’m that close, but the way he seizes on my cock and bucks against me makes it rush through me unexpectedly. I bury myself deep, straining into him as my cock kicks, filling him with my cum.

We lie still for a while, both breathing hard and floating in the haze. Then, when I pull free, Levi rolls over to see me.

I comb his messy hair. “I love you,” I tell him quietly.

He smiles. It’s a small smile, tender and fragile. Sweet. “I love you too.”

I want to smile back, but it doesn’t happen. Levi doesn’t seem to mind.

He’s so calm. I know he’s still wild. I know there are still dark parts of him. But he’s this too, calm and loving and gentle.

Dark thoughts try to crowd in, thoughts about myself. I think Levi sees them because his hand finds mine and squeezes it.

He says, “I’m hungry. Can we shower and eat?”

I nod and help him up.

Our shower is quiet. I touch him a lot. He touches me too, but he’s more cautious. I wish he didn’t have to be, but he’s right that I’m not ready for more. This is the first time in my life that I’ve wanted more, and suddenly recognizing it as something broken makes me feel really shitty.

I don’t realize that I’m somehow communicating that fact until we’re drying off and Levi says, “It’s okay, Ethan.”

I swallow around a sudden constriction in my throat. Fuck, I feel raw. I feel like my soul has been laid bare, like every sore and every scar and every dark, dirty pocket has been seen.

But then, it has.

He saw my paintings.

I confess, “No one has ever seen those.”

Levi knows what I mean. His eyes drop for a second then lift again. “Are you angry that I looked?”

“No.”

If anyone but Levi had looked, I would be angry. But with him, everything is different.

He says, “You’re an incredible artist.”

“But they’re ugly.”

“They’re dark. They’re pain.”

I look away. I don’t want to talk about them. I don’t want to think about who I am, what I am, when I create them.

“Let’s make breakfast,” Levi says and leads me out of the bathroom.