xxx Keith’s POV xxx

It’s a full seven days before I’m released after getting fixed up, so to speak, and Coy was there from after school to when visitor hours ended on every single day. We just talked and cuddled and at one point, he carried me to the cafeteria to get some muffins and juice. He’s being so damn sweet and despite everything with Damian, there’s no doubt in my mind that he still loves me. He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body, I swear.

Brandon and Jeff had to go back to work, but at the end of my first day out, Mrs. Russel and Coy took me to the optometrists. Their office is just a small building next to a restaurant in tudor village, but I was so excited because I’ve secretly wanted glasses for a long time. I haven’t told people that, not even Coy because they’d think I was nuts, and rightfully so.

We open the heavy oak doors into the optometrists office, Coy holds it open for me as I wobble in on my new prosthetic leg (which I have affectionately named Merve) with crutches under my arms; I have to use them until I get the hang on everything, the prosthesis has limited movement despite being below the knee. Both my arms are free of bandages or casts, but under my sweater my ribs are still covered and so are my cheeks, mostly because I refuse to let anyone see them.

After my prescription is set, I look at the rows and rows of glasses like a kid in a candy store. Coy catches my gaze as his mom speaks with the secretary, and he raises a curious eyebrow in a very ‘what the fuck?’ kind of way. I smile embarrassingly. We start trying on glasses, they’re all resting in vertical rows of Plexiglass, balanced precariously on their own nosepiece.

It doesn’t take me long to find what I want, I’m going to take the idiots route on this one and buy those typical black thick framed emo boy glasses. Sure it’s conformist, but they’re hot. So see if I care. I find a pair near the right corner that look good, a thin strip of white between two of black, just visible from the side. I snatch them up and carefully on my face, craning my neck to see into the little mirror above my head. Even with the remnants of a scab near my eyelid and the gauze I haven’t removed, they look pretty damn good.

“How’re these?” I ask before turning around to see Coy directly behind me, wearing enormous bifocals clearly made for an eighty year old man. His face is set in a false look of appraisal and wisdom, I have to stop myself from giggling. He takes a step closer and takes the glasses off with careful fingers, exposing icy blue eyes from behind their thick frames, then with a blatant disregard for the other customers around us, he kisses me.

I try to push him off in fear of getting egged or booed, but I can never resist him, and I kiss him just a little. He pulls back and stares at me from inches away; the display glasses are the wrong prescription and he’s still blurry to me.

“You have GOT to keep those.”

xxxxxxxxxxxx

For the next couple of weeks, I stay at home. I get a month off school, but there’s still a chance I might have to go to summer school if I don’t want the fails and lost credits. Coy still goes to class and I help him with his homework, but he always comes over every day; I’ve decided to let him inside now, since he told me he already did once. For some reason beyond me, he’s fascinated with the walls of my room, he keeps saying how cool it is, but it’s nonsense. I painted it when I was stupid and fourteen because I was bored and I hated the previous color of the room. But, Coy likes it, so I’m pleased.

I’ve been pacing the (freshly cleaned and vacuumed) hallway with Coy’s help, and I can almost walk without crutches now, it’s just a matter of swinging the leg forwards without looking like a retard, which isn’t too hard because I can still use my knee. But I fall a lot because of bad footing. After no less than a half hour of pacing and ‘training’, we’re both tired and a little bored.

We’re sprawled on my tiny little twin bed with the red quilt, I’m lying on my back and Coy’s on his stomach next to me, head turned so he’s looking at me in profile, sharing the same pillow. Light from the setting sun streams in murkily through my moth-eaten drapes and blinds, leaving slats of bright color on the white carpet, bouncing and shining off wayward papers. I’m not used to my glasses yet, so I keep blinking at the odd black bar marring my vision. I hope it isn’t so bad later on.

Coy rubs his hand across my stomach, breaking my internal monologue. “You know what we’ve gotta do?” he whispers.

“That’s a loaded question.” I say back quietly, closing my eyes as his blunt fingertips bump over my ribs like keys on a piano, resting over my heart.

“As soon as I lose my learners licence, we’re going on a road trip to Canada, and we’ll see moose and beaver and fatten you up on maple syrup and pancakes and beef jerky.” he says, trying to grab extra fat over my stomach, but it just slips through his fingers and snaps back to my body. I giggle and roll over to look at him, his eyes are shining happily against silver eye shadow, lined with dark eyelashes. I look at his ivory skin, the slight upturn of his nose, his full, dark lips and his soft throat. He’s so damn beautiful, feminine and graceful like nothing I’ve ever seen, like a ghost or an angel. He doesn’t even know it.

“Do you know how gorgeous you are?” I whisper carefully, trying to brush my left leg against his, but I only have enough movement to bump it against his shin.

“… No …” he tells me, letting his eyes fall shut as I touch my fingertips to his cheek.

“You are …” I assure him, we’re whispering now for no apparent reason. “You’re absolutely perfect …” I trail along his jaw to his chin and down his throat, over the pronounced jut of his adam’s apple that moves beneath my fingers when he swallows, leaning forwards. “Your body …” my hand brushes his hair back, curling it behind his ear as my fingernails clink his earrings. “… your soul …” and I kiss him.

Our lips just barely touch, I told back and thread my hand in his hair that’s grown rapidly over the past month or so, reaching almost between his shoulder blades. I close my eyes, draw in a deep breath and exhale before really kissing him, tilting my head and parting my lips. I feel him quiver and he presses forwards, holding my elbows and flicking his tongue against mine.

The edge of my glasses presses gently against his eyebrow, an alien reminder of abnormality. We kiss for a damn eternity, suns die and bloom while we’re lying here. I think I black out or just stop caring, but before I realize it he’s spun me back into the bed and is bracing himself over me, hips heavy and firm against mine, elbows dug into the mattress near my arms, playing with the tips of my hair.

“Keith …” he says my name quietly, less than a moan. His lips stray from mine and kiss down my cheeks, bright and raw from freshly healed scabs. His eyes are closed and I love how much he looks like he’s in ecstasy, I love that I make him feel like that. He drags his rough tongue along my jaw line to my ear and bites my lowest earring, tugging a small golden cross with his teeth.

“I wanna have sex with you …” he rubs his lips over my ear, a sticky whisper of saliva that makes me clench my thighs. I jerk backwards so I can look at him, nearly hitting my head on the wall, eyes wide and crazed as my heart beats a thousand times a second.

“Coy, wha-”

“Please,” he holds my arms, sinking so I’m higher than him, burying his face in my chest. “Let me have sex with you.”

“Oh Christ …” I let my head fall back to my pillow.

“I wanna fuck you absolutely senseless …”

“Jesus, Coy …”

“I promise I won’t hurt you, I swear, just please …” he begs.

I rest my cheek on the top of his head, disoriented and blindsided, one minute we’re talking about moose and beef jerky and the next I think I’m about to lose my virginity. I can’t breathe as his hands drift along my thighs, and I struggle to speak.

“It’s up to you …” he whispers, kissing my stomach. “I made you wait, you can make me wait …”

I let a shivery sigh escape my lips and I pull him up by his shoulders, needing to kiss him like I need my next damn breath, and he’s only too happy to oblige. I kiss him roughly and messily, gripping his arms and rolling on top of him, I pant against his skin, kissing him all over, not needing to think for a second longer.

“No … I don’t wanna wait …” I say quietly, biting the collar of his shirt between my teeth. “Take me.”

I hear him make a little gasp and he flips me over again, my head hits my pillow and his hair tickles my cheeks. He’s grinning like mad, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling. His tongue darts out and he runs it over his lips and he looks so enthralled and happy like a child. I’m glad.

“You’re unbelievable.” he grins and I laugh. He dips his head down to kiss me, his hair splays out on the pillow on either side of me. His hands are everywhere at once, stroking my hair, petting my chest, holding my jaw and finally, tugging at my shirt. I look up at him through the glare of my glasses, his cheeks still a dappled pink as he motions for me to sit up. I scootch my ass back and do as he wants me to, his hands pull my flimsy yellow shirt over my head, followed closely by the black tank top I had on underneath. Suddenly I’m shirtless in front of him and after a while of little to no intimacy, this feels a little unnatural.

I push my glasses up and sit back against the wall, breathing a little heavy as I look at the erection straining at his black corduroys. “You get hard pretty quick.” I comment dully, aroused and oddly curious. He squirms a bit, obviously embarrassed.

“Maybe that’s your fault.” he grins rowdily. “Ever thought of that?”

It’s my turn to be uncomfortable, because I hadn’t thought of that, actually. I cover my chest with my arms, poking my throat with absent minded fingers. I look down for a second, trying to think of something to say, but the pressure of everything has blown out the back of my head, common sense and lasagne-like brains splattered on the wall behind me, dripping down to the exposed edge of the mattress where the sheets have been pulled free in all our groping.

I didn’t realize this was a big deal until now. We’re going to have sex. I might be making a mountain out of a molehill because we’ve already fooled around and done almost everything but sex, so you’d think that actually doing it isn’t such a big deal. But it’s huge. It’s virginity, it’s terrifying, it’s petrifying, it’s making me lose my mind.

I accidentally close my hands around my throat and I don’t realize I’m squeezing until Coy’s heavy hands curl into mine and pull them off. “Cold feet?” he murmurs understandingly. I nod and swallow hard, legs drawn under me, white-blue jeans stretched taut over my thighs, threads coming loose at the seams.

“It’s okay …” he says quietly, turning my left hand over in his, kissing the translucent skin over my wrist. “… I said we can wait.”

“No!” I say instantly, looking up at him with a certain amount of confidence. He looks a little shocked at my outburst, and I look back down at my knees with blushing cheeks. “No, I’m not waiting anymore. I’ll be fine … it’s just … you know.” I look to the side. “This is you.”

His thumb rubs over my palm. “Yeah. It is.”

“A-and, I just mean, I’ve known you since we were just kids, you know?” I say stupidly, holding tightly to his hand. “And I’d never thought we’d be doing this, not ever, not even recently. It’s so …” I trail off, not really knowing what it is.

“… Weird?” he tries.

“Yeah.” I agree. “A little weird.” but then I realize how mean that sounds, and I grab his head in both my hands and stroke his hair. “But you know I don’t mean that in a bad way … it’s just … like, there’s two Coy’s. There’s my boyfriend, and there’s my best friend …” I try to explain, shimmying into his lap. “My boyfriend loves me and has had my dick down his throat, but my best friend loves me like a brother and wouldn’t even give me a piggyback ride.”

Coy laughs, his normal genuine laugh that makes me even more uncomfortable, it makes me think of best-friend Coy. I hold his arms and he looks down at me, kissing my hair.

“You’re such an adorable little freak,” he says affectionately, rubbing my bare back. “I’m still your best friend. And your boyfriend. Sex and love and hormones and whatever the hell we’re doing here doesn’t change that.”

I don’t know what to say anymore, just thinking of my brains splattered on the wall, which is hard to do when your brains are splattered on the wall. I can’t tell if he’s right or not, I just remember how seeing him naked a few years ago meant nothing to me, but now it … you know.

“If you aren’t ready, we can wait, really.” he says again. “I don’t wanna make you do anything you don’t want to …”

That snaps me back to reality like a brand spanking new rubber band.

“I’m ready!” I screech, not caring that my brother might be somewhere in the house. “I’m definitely fucking ready, we’re doing this, and we’re doing it NOW.” I say, more to myself than to him. “I’m not gonna be the reason we don’t do this, if there’s any reason we don’t do this, it’s gonna be because one of us is DEAD.”

“You’re not making sense.”

“Fuck that! I’m making plenty sense! You’re going to fuck me and you’re going to like it! That’s the bottom line!” and I kiss him.

He just takes it in stride despite my paranoia, kissing me back like he usually would, but I still feel weird. Not the same kind of weird as before, but a really … passionate kind of weird. The weird that made me yell, the weird that’s making me shove him onto his back so I can rip his black sweater vest off, tossing it onto the floor. He’s left in a white shirt with rolled up sleeves and a blue tie, I make short work of the shirt and grab the tie, yanking it forwards, pulling him towards me.

“Keith,” he whimpers into my cheek, lips warm and wet. “You sure you’re okay?” he asks carefully, accompanied by a short bite.

I twist the tie in my fingers, pulling it against my chest, inadvertently taking him with it. I tilt my head and capture his lips in mine again, squeezing my thighs against his. I lick his mouth once before answering.

“I’m not gonna be a wuss, Coy. I trust you more than I trust anyone …” I say sappily, nipping his lip ring. “And I know I’m going to love this.”

I feel him shiver, which just turns me on even more. He reaches down behind me and hooks his fingers in the waistband of my prepubescent little tighty whities, pulling them above my belt. I let him do what he wants and just lean into him, making a choked noise when he slips his hands underneath my underwear to cup my bare ass. I bury my face in the crook of his neck, nuzzling his hair, biting my lips.

One of his thumbs brushes up the cleft of my ass. “How’re you doing?”

I laugh breathlessly. “Don’t flatter yourself, you haven’t even done anything yet.”

“True, but you’re so damn hard we might as well be done already. And you had the guts to say I finished quick.”

I blush bright red and lean back, earning a hard pinch on the ass for my petulance. “Shuddup.” is the most intelligent thing I can think of at the moment, but as usual, he gives me no time to do something stupid. It’s my turn to be thrown backwards, he grabs me under my arms and tosses me back, I land next to my pillow with a loud creak of the mattress bed springs, and he’s towering over me again, this time around my knees. He’s clinking my belt free before starting to shimmy my pants down my legs.

“Eager, aren’t you?” I tease lightly, rubbing a hand over my own chest on account of not being in reach of his. I lift my ass when I need to and my jeans end up in a crumpled heap next to the rest of our clothes. Coy sits back on his haunches, glowing a little in the sun, and he whips his tie off, dropping it on the floor as well. I’m left in my little boy shorts and his dark pants are still clinging desperately to his hips, showing an inch or two of tight charcoal boxer briefs and the sharp juts of his pelvic bone.

“Yes.” he answers with another fantastic grin. “Very eager. You aren’t? I’m insulted.”

I put a little pouty face on, leaning back on my elbows, giving him a look of appraisal. “Can’t think of anything else I’d rather be doing.”

“Well …” Coy says, crawling forwards and into my lap, a lot heavier than he looks; not that I’m complaining. Weight means that certain things of his are touching certain things of mine. “… You could be getting out of your little-boy-panties. They make you look like you’re eight years old.”

I snort at him, bucking my hips in an attempt to get him off, but I only make him moan. “Boxers don’t fit under my jeans and my cock doesn’t fit in girl panties, so be quiet. You’re ruining the goddamn mood.”

“We have no mood.” he laughs and stands up, much to my horror, and begins rooting around in our heap of clothes. I get a nice view of his ass when he bends over, so I’m content for the moment. He comes back up holding the grey-brown hooded sweater he came in wearing, and his fist is dug into one of the pockets.

“Whatcha looking for?” I ask when he switches to the other one.

He rolls his eyes. “The secret entrance to the land of Narnia.”

In a few seconds he finds something, closes his fist around it, throws the hoodie to the ground and leaps on me, rolling us over once until we knock loudly into the wall. His body buffers me from the drywall.

“Ah! Watch it! Brandon’s home!” I spaz, really not wanting my brother to come in here and see us all naked and fondling. Coy brushes my hair back with his free hand, the other is resting near my shoulder, still holding whatever he got from his hoodie.

“He won’t mind.” he says before kissing me again, making me beg for it without words, forcing me to be the needy one here. I don’t mind being needy, as long as I get what I want. I wrap my arms under his and rub over the acres of bare skin exposed on his back. It’s almost odd to see us together almost naked like this, we look so different, how my arm looks against his was my first indication.

My arm is so thin and spindly, and if I’m not mistaken, I think I see the thin outline of ropey muscle on his. My skin’s at least four shades darker than his, not because mine is overly browned, but his is just that pale. It’s almost sickly … but not quite. It has a blue-white quality like the finest diamonds, and with that red hair and the black clothes, as I’ve said, he looks like a vampire. It’s beautiful.

“Keith?” he says, pulling back. “What’s going on?”

“With what?” I say dazedly, still looking at his bare skin with a morbid fascination.

“You stopped kissing.” he says dully, and I quickly look back into his eyes.

“Sorry.” and I plant a long kiss on his jaw, then start trailing down his throat, hands at his hips to pull him on top of me. I bite the tense chord of muscle at the junction of his shoulder and neck, making him groan into my ear, which in turn makes me shiver. Or maybe it’s because of his hands slowly working down my chest towards the small bit of clothing I have left, and by the time I’m sucking his shoulder, his fingers are curled around the hem.

That weird feeling comes back again, the first weird feeling, not the passion one. I just remember all the times we were changing for gym and I was wearing these underwear, if someone had told me that Coy would end up taking them off, I would have slapped them. This is insane. I’ve never questioned getting naked with him before, but this is different now …

“Mood swing?” he asks with a small giggle, nuzzling my nose.

I just nod, fingers digging into his hips.

“What do you want me to do?” he takes his hands out of my panties and rests them on my sides, firm enough for me to know he’s serious, but not hard enough to bruise.

I hesitate for a few seconds, tracing invisible patterns in his skin with a green lacquered fingernail. “Tell me this won’t change things.” I say quietly. “Even if I’m bad at it. Even if I’m good at it. Tell me you won’t stop loving me.”

The look on his face changes and I think I’ve ruined everything. We were carefree and horny a second ago, but the instant he tries anything, I start freaking out like a trembling schoolgirl. I hate myself.

I’m positive the next words out of his mouth are going to be: “Let’s wait until you’re ready”, but somehow, he still has the ability to surprise me. He kisses the end of my nose like he wants to eat it, then kisses my lips the same way, tugging and licking at the same time. I keep my eyes open, staring at his closed eyelids in confusion, not sure what his answer is. All at once, he pulls my panties down, leaving them caught between my knees.

I make a strangled little noise into his mouth, shutting my eyes tight. He moves out from between my spread legs and carefully slides my underwear down and off my feet, dropping them on the floor like everything else. I keep my eyes closed and hold onto his arms, face in his shoulder. I don’t know why I’m so scared, he isn’t, I shouldn’t be either. I’m such a fucking pussy.

“It’s okay,” he says quietly, breath tousling my hair. “This won’t change things …” he whispers now, barely audible even from this close. His hand is hot when it wraps around my dick and my body jerks forwards without consulting me, he hasn’t even done anything yet and I’m flustered. “I’m doing this because I love you. Not to get out of loving you.” he kisses the top of my head, then my temple. I turn half-heartedly away, sucking my tongue when he runs a finger over the head of my cock.

“… Okay.” I say dreamily, kissing the underside of his chin, pulling at his pants, finding it unfair how incredibly naked I am (save for one white ankle sock). He stops everything he’s doing and sits back again, legs stretched in front of him, and he shimmies out of his pants with a little bit of difficulty, taking his boxers with them in one swift movement. He lets them flop over the side of the bed.

I’m just staring. I don’t think I’m blinking. I let my eyes roam shamelessly over everything he has, risen up on his knees on the quilt, completely and blindingly naked. His skin’s still glowing in the musty light, thighs milky and pale, never been exposed to sunlight or people’s eyes. His nipples are a dusky pink color, breaking the pale quality in the expanse of his skin just like the coarse dark hair at the junction of his thighs.

He starts to advance towards me and I shyly draw my knees up to hide myself. He kisses me softly, leaning against my knees to get close enough to really kiss me. One of his hands closes over my kneecap and eases my legs apart so he can slip between them, drawing me towards him in slow, fluid movements, hands spread over my back. My lips are trembling because of nothing and because of everything, because this is Coy, and this is my bed.

One of his hands reaches down and I squirm madly when his fingertips rub up and down my cock, barely hard enough for me to feel. I suck a sharp breath in my nose and stroke my fake leg against his thigh, trying and failing to be sensual in any way. He stops our kiss for a second, nuzzling his cheek with mine, lips tantalizingly close to my ear. “Can you see without your glasses?”

I nip his cheek just because I can. “It’s worse for far away things. But yes.”

He takes that as a good response and leans back, taking the arms of my glasses between his fingers, and I shut my eyes as he takes them off, folding them on the nightstand. When I blink and look at him, he’s just out of focus the slightest amount, his lips simply a dark smudge against his skin. It isn’t bad enough that I’ll complain.

“They hide your eyes.” he smiles, brushing my hair off my face, making me tilt my head up to look at him. “You have such beautiful eyes, Kei.”

I blush to the roots, just from him saying that. He’s said worse, he’s said he liked sucking my dick. But he just called my eyes beautiful and I feel like crying and fucking him all at once. I yank him towards me and I tell him I love him, but he doesn’t kiss me. He leans over and starts rummaging in the sheets next to us, muttering ‘damn, I dropped it’.

“You lost Narnia?” I laugh.

He comes back up with something balancing on his wide open palm, holding it out for me to look at. I take it with careful fingers, and recognize what it is within a split-second of seeing it. It’s the strawberry lube that Brandon and Jeff bought us so long ago. I look at him, shocked.

“You kept this?” I gape, looking back down at it. Just thinking about it and using it makes my fucking cock twitch. He plucks it from my fingers and tosses it in the air, catching it.

“Of course I did. And look, it’s coming in handy right now.” he giggles and unscrews the bright pink cap. I just stare at him, his strawberry lube, his hard dick and the smirk on his lips. I feel like a little kid putting one of those ten-piece puzzles together. He squirts some onto two of his outstretched fingers with a smile, then looks at me expectantly.

I really don’t want to get this wrong. I go to lie back, but he stops me. “Nuh uh-uh …” he smiles, cupping my chin with his left hand. His index and middle finger press gently to my bottom lip, smearing the pink-tinged stuff. It’s more wet than I thought and it drips down my chin. He spreads it messily like lip gloss, eyes serious and dark as I open my mouth and stick my tongue out to swipe over his fingers. It really tastes like strawberries and it’s warm and wet like a certain disgusting substance, but thinner.

He blushes, which is adorable. “You look incredible right now.” he whispers lowly, his own lips parted, eyes fixed on my mouth and the lube dripping down my chin. His fingers stray from my lips to smear the lube across my cheeks and the bridge of my nose.

“It really tastes like strawberries.” I tease lightly, running my tongue over my top lip. That must have been his breaking point because he grabs my shoulders with sticky fingers and starts sucking and licking the stuff off my face, lips and tongue making me giggle because he reminds me of a kitty. I squirm and he pushes me onto my back, rubbing his cock against my thigh.

His tongue slides under my eye and I watch him smile. “Very strawberry.” he almost whimpers, and his breath smells hot and tangy. He nips at my cheeks and his dick starts sliding between my legs, I shiver and groan all at once. He tightens his hold on me and kisses the remains of the lube off my lips in short, wet pecks. He starts stroking his cock against mine and I can’t breathe anymore, I tilt my head back and whine, drawing my knees tight against his sides.

He dips his head to my ear, keeping slight motion with his hips, too turned on to even talk. “Oh god, you - can you come more than once?” he moans, leaving a strawberry gloss on the shell of my ear.

I don’t even open my eyes, knowing the answer oh-to-well from personal experience. “Yes …” I whimper desperately, hands curled around his forearms stretched out next to me. He chuckles lowly at my sureness of it, and I’m sure that he knows exactly why I know the answer.

“Good.” he finally says, short and clipped. “I really wanna suck this stuff off your cock.” he tells me, not giving me any time to be shocked. “What’d I do with the tube?”

I sit up a little, eyes half-lidded and dazed, looking around. “Next to the pillow.” I say, dropping back against said pillow, too lazy and horny to get it for him. He reaches up and snatches it, then works down so he’s sitting between my feet. I look at him, lost for words, so I just lie back down and stare at the ceiling. I hear the click of the cap again and I mindlessly jerk my hips up when he squeezes the stuff on me. I shriek because it’s too cold then too hot once he touches it, rubbing it around the head of my cock. I clench my fists in the sheet, ripping them up from where they’d been nicely tucked into the corners under the mattress. I moan and squeak like a whore when his tongue follows everywhere the lube has dripped, swirling his pointed tongue around the tip, fingers wrapped gently around it, pulling and stroking, fucking perfect as always.

I yelp nonsense and buck into his mouth, making him have to hold onto my hip with bruising force to stop from choking. I can’t fucking stop, he’s too warm, too wet, too strawberry flavoured, too slippery, too fuck …! It’s only a minute or so before I’m coming with a moan that shakes the window panes, my come dripping out of his mouth when he coughs, sitting back quicker than normal.

I pant and writhe, still holding the sheet with white-knuckled hands, calling his name in a shaky whimpered voice. I watch him wipe his mouth on the back of his hand before giving a reassuring pat to Merve. “Christ, you needed that, didn’t you?”

Nodding feverishly, I reach my arms out towards him, grabbing thin air like a lonely child needing his mother. But Coy isn’t my mom and we aren’t in a department store, he’s my boyfriend and we’re not shopping for underwear. He slides into my arms and kisses me hard, not like his normal post-orgasm kisses but something so much hotter, hot enough to get me half-hard. I bite his tongue and tug on his hair, groaning into his mouth, slinging my legs around his waist with abandon.

He kisses my cheek and tells me he loves me, grabbing the back of my thighs to lift me into his lap. I squirm and open one of my eyes to look at him, fumbling in the sheets for the lube I can still taste on the tip of my tongue. My chest heaves, exposing rows of ribs on every one of my sharp inhales, and no matter how deep I breathe it’s still too hard to get air. He kisses me again, soft and reassuring, just a nuzzle of lips.

“You sure you wanna do this?” he whispers lowly, eyes closed.

I look at him again, leaning up to close the quarter inch of space between us in a long kiss, winding my hand up his shoulders and into his hair. He groans into my mouth because he knows my answer without me saying a word. One of his hands leaves my legs and I hear the lube un-cap again, it’s quite a loud sound now that I think about it. His body’s heavy over mine and he shudders hard for a second and before I can say a word or move an inch, he's pressed his cockhead against my ass, asking my permission once more. I nod, and he pushes inside me.

It’s … the weirdest fucking feeling in the world. My eyes open wider than humanly possible, my spine arches without my body, my stomach hollows out and a loud sob rips from my throat. He’s bent over me, hands clenched into fists near my shoulders, hair hung over his face, tickling my bare chest. Each of my breaths comes out as a whine or a pant and I just lay there, trying to get used to this. He doesn’t move but I can see the muscles in his arms tremble. This hurts. This really hurts. More than I thought it would, even with the excess amount of lube he stroked onto his cock. He’s too big, I’m too small, this can’t be right. My entire body is pulsing and he’s not even all the way in.

“What’s it like?” I whisper, genuinely curious in a very odd way. He curses quietly and shifts his hips a little uncomfortably. He exhales loudly like he’d been holding his breath, and I watch his chest heave in the nicest of ways and he struggles to talk.

“Really - fucking - tight.” he says in a laboured voice, words clipped and edgy. “Are you okay …?”

I have to think about this because I can feel tears pricking at my eyes. “It hurts.” I tell him.

His body tenses the minute I say that. “Do you want me to stop?” he asks, voice clearly worried. He pulls out a few inches, and I shriek.

“Don’t!” I say quickly, raising my hand to curl around his bicep. He looks at me and I don’t say anything else, not sure what to say. He smiles sweetly and nips at my cheek.

“It’ll get better,” he whispers. “I promise.”

I don’t know what makes me trust him, it must be the love. I nod carefully and lean back into the pillow, snuggling so I’m relatively comfortable. I tell him to go ahead, and holy shit, does he ever.

He rests his forehead on my shoulder and I feel his eyelashes flutter when he closes his eyes. In slow, careful movements, he starts moving his hips and I whimper just as he moans. I squeeze my knees as tight as I can to his ribcage, wrapping both my hands around his forearms. His cock moves inside me and it’s fucking indescribable and he slides in and out with an awkward sort of grace, making the pain slowly fade away; or maybe I just stop noticing it.

“Christ, Kei …” he hisses into my ear, more of a moan that an actual word. I kiss him sloppily at the corner of his mouth, digging my fingers into his skin, digging my heels into his back. My hands move to his shoulder blades and I tug him down towards me, his pace falters when I do so, but there’s an angle in there that makes me groan. He starts biting and sucking my neck in-between his own moans and this is so perfect and hot and so fucking amazing I can barely stand it. I painfully dig my nails into his skin as he starts to get the hang of this, thrusting hard, making whimpers bubble from my throat every few seconds.

I’m oddly amazed by the intimacy of everything and a voice that barely sounds like mine is crying out and moaning and swearing. My heels slips against his back from sweat beading between us in this hot muggy room, barely finding purchase in the small of his back as he pants hard into my shoulder.

This is it, I belatedly realize. This is sex, this is what kids our age dream about; maybe not gay sex, but it’s the same no matter what’s going where. It’s incredible, insatiable, it’s the closest you can get to someone, it’s passionate, it’s loving, worth waiting sixteen years for. It’s worth losing a leg for. It’s worth going blind, it’s worth everything. It’s kind of useless in any case, but that sure as hell isn’t going to stop me now. There’s no doubt in my mind that I’ll want this again.

“FUCK!” I swear loudly, train of thought crashing into the station as I desperately arch my body up into the hand that’s started to stroke my cock. I start panting open-mouthed, jaw and chest slicked with sweat just like Coy and he rocks his hips hard, free hand clutching my thigh, moving me to his rhythm.

A very odd thought makes it’s way into my head through all the lust-filled gauze, not so much a thought as it is a word. Debauchery. I forget where I heard it, in some book I must have read months ago, but that word has stuck with me. I don’t remember what it means, something about indulgence, but … it’s unusually emotive, isn’t it?

Coy’s body starts to shake and he swears loudly, rising up on his hands. His thrusts get harder and faster until the mattress springs are creaking and the bed frame slams into the wall over and over again. The pillow starts slipping out from under my head and before I know it Coy’s coming inside me, his face something beautiful and erotic as he bites his lip to keep from screaming. His chest heaves hard as he rides it out, hand gripping my cock hard, pumping faster until I start to come too, not having nearly as much control as him; I literally scream loud enough to wake the dead, jerking my hips erratically as my come drips out over his hand and between his fingers; he wastes no time in sucking it clean.

I pull him down towards me and shiver and cling to him as he carefully pulls out of me, leaving my whimper of pain suspended in the air around us. We pant in the afterglow, half his chest on mine, lying with our legs tangled in the sheets. He looks over at me, cheeks flushed red, eyes glowing happily. I touch his throat with my fingertips, his delicate chords of muscle shining with sweat. His hair’s drooped over his eyes as I kiss him soft and low, lips already swollen and dark. I pull back and stare at him from inches away, nuzzling my nose against his, tasting the strawberry on his breath. I whisper against his lips.

“DEBAUCHERY.”





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