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With a small laugh, Gabe pressed their noses together. “Would you, Mr. No Expectations?”
Oliver nudged his boyfriend hard. “I resent the implications. Just because I’m fine with it doesn’t mean—”
His words were cut off by Gabe’s lips capturing his in a heated kiss. Abandoning his protest, Oliver wound his arms around Gabe’s waist, pulling him in close. The kiss deepened, hotter and heavier than the last they’d shared, and he couldn’t help a small moan as the front of his jogging pants started to tent.
“You couldn’t even wait five minutes for me to leave,” came Coco’s amused voice from by the front door. “Really, I don’t need to see this shit.”
Oliver turned, red and breathing a little heavy, but unashamed. “Fuck off, then. We don’t need an audience.”
“Behave yourselves. Or don’t.” Her laugh carried her out the door, and it slammed shut.
The room was suddenly too quiet, too still, and Oliver found himself searching Gabe’s face for any sign he was unsure. “I want…” Oliver stopped and took a breath. “I want you. But I also don’t want to push you.”
Gabe reached up and cupped Oliver’s cheek, his thumb brushing along the sharp cheekbone. “I want you too. I just…I want you to know I don’t have a cock the way you do.”
Oliver blinked, then tried not to laugh. “I figured that one out a while ago, love. If it bothered me, you really think I’d have you here?”
“I think some men don’t entirely think about it when they date me. I’m fairly passing, you know.”
Oliver shook his head, pulling Gabe a little closer. “You know I fancy you, right? I’m not fussed about your parts. I wantyou.”
Gabe’s eyes darkened a little with desire, and his lips parted as he tugged Oliver in for another searing kiss. “I was hoping you’d say that. Any chance you want to take this up to your bedroom?”
Oliver didn’t need telling twice. He rose from the sofa, offering a hand out and pulled Gabe up in one swift motion. They all-but raced each other for the stairs, laughing, stopping to kiss every few steps before making it to Oliver’s untidy room. Neither paid attention to the state of his dirty laundry as they shucked their bottoms, Oliver throwing back his comforter and diving into the pillows.
He made a grabby-hands motion at his boyfriend who slid along the sheets, pressing himself hard against Oliver’s front. Wrapping one leg around his hips, Gabe ground himself against Oliver’s rock-hard erection.
“Condoms?” Gabe breathed, lowering his mouth, sucking along Oliver’s pulse point.
“D-drawer,” Oliver gasped, throwing his head back a little to give the other man some room. “Just…fuck, Gabe.”
Gabriel chuckled against Oliver’s heated skin, reaching down for the hem of his shirt, and he started to pull it up. The motion threw Oliver, the sudden panic that Gabe might see the scars, might ask questions, and he reached out a firm hand, stopping him.
“Do you mind if we don’t?”
Gabe blinked in surprise, pulling back. “Don’t what?”
“Take off shirts?”
Gabe tried to swallow, the motion catching in his throat for a second, and he unwound himself from the other man. “Are you bothered by my…?” He gestured at his chest.
Oliver’s eyes widened in surprise. “What?God, no. That’s not…that’s not what I meant.”
Gabe’s eyes were cold, hurt, and he shook his head. “You can be honest with me, you know. I know how all this shit works. I’ve been here a dozen times before, and I…”
Oliver reached up, taking Gabe’s hand. “I have scars,” he confessed. “A lot of them. And I don’t like to talk about it. I don’t like to even think about it. It’ll just kill the mood, and…”
Gabe was frozen, his entire body relaxing just a fraction. “Oh. You never said.”
“I’m sorry,” Oliver said from behind a breath. “I never meant for you to think… It’s just…it’s a thing for me. It’s stupid.”
“It isn’t,” Gabe said very softly, then lifted his hand to the back of Oliver’s neck and pulled him in for a very soft, sweet kiss. “It’s not stupid. And you can leave your shirt on. I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions.”
“You’ve a right to,” Oliver mumbled against the other man’s lips. His erection was gone for the moment, but he felt a wave of relief and comfort in those warm arms holding him tight. “I should have explained before. But I want your whole body, I do. I want everything about you.”
Gabe kissed him for another moment, then pulled back. “Look, why don’t we just stop. Just for tonight. Let’s hold each other, and in the morning…”
“Yeah,” Oliver whispered, and let his head come to rest in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck. He didn’t want to think about the scars. Think about his mother or how she’d ordered the wounds which were supposed to purge him of his demonic desires. He didn’t want that evil bitch to creep into this thing he had with Gabe, this thing he was allowing himself to keep, to be selfish with.
