“Lube too,” he added helpfully, breathily.
A smile curved across my face. I liked the way he sounded when he talked like that; his voice wasn’t hard around the edges. It was soft and malleable; innocent and helpless.
Begging.
I loved it.
My fingers closed around the stiff foil, and I settled back onto my knees with an accordion of squares.
I looked up at him, and saw one of his curious green eyes peering at me in the moonlight.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked.
My voice came out flat and hard; almost a dare.
Kyle gave a single nod, his eyes gleaming with mischief and want and something else I couldn’t quite place.
I squirted a dollop of lube into my fingers and rubbed it around, warming it.
I did not want Kyle to feel even an ounce of discomfort with anything I did to him.
The air in his bedroom seemed to tingle with anticipation; everything was waiting.
Watching.
I looked down at my cock. It stared back up at me with its weeping eye, the bead of pre-come on the tip shining in the moonlight like a diamond.
Then my gaze went to Kyle’s perfect, round ass, and I slipped my fingers in the crack.
“Oh…” he moaned, jostling a bit.
“Relax,” I said, my voice coming out low and hard with command again.
He laid still.
That… that plain and simple obedience sent a thrill through me.
My cock stiffened even more.
It felt like I was about to burst…
But I had to be patient.
I swiveled my fingers around his opening, feeling the tight little pucker under my fingertips.
It moved and flexed under me, but all I kept doing was swirl my lubed-up fingers around and around, loosening him.
“Relax…” I repeated.
I watched his fingers flex on the sheet, trying so hard to obey.
Oh, he was trying so hard…
Another dark swirl of desire pulsed in my lower belly.
I wrapped my free hand around my cock and started jerking off.
From the way my shaft felt under my fingers, I could tell this was the fucking hardest I’d ever been. The word “excited” didn’t even come close to describe what I was feeling.
No; it was more like an obsession. Like a fixation; like I was possessed by some demon of lust, intent on—
I stoked myself, up and down, faster and faster as I worked on loosening Kyle’s hole.
“Oh…” he moaned, bucking under me.
I slipped a finger inside.
He drew in a hissing breath through his teeth, but then relaxed.
I added more lube, then wiggled that finger around some more.
I could feel his body relax around me. His tiny virgin hole still tightened around my finger, but eventually it relaxed enough so I could slip another inside.
“Oh… oh yeah…” he moaned, arching his back.
Again, if it was any other time, I would have spent the time teasing him. Asking him if he liked that, called him a little slut and all that. But this moment was far too serious; far too vulnerable, for any of that.
I worked him some more, loosening him up.
I continued to jerk myself off. If my body could whimper with want, it would have done so then.
My cock was transmitting wants and needs to my brain; primal things that I would never say to anyone out loud. It wanted to ram itself into Kyle’s virgin ass, fuck him like a rag doll. Fuck all of the thoughts out of him; go so deep it would touch the back of his throat and slam through that; give him a lobotomy.
I scowled, thrusting those thoughts away as I wiggled my fingers inside his tight hole gently.
He moaned and I felt his body clamp down on my fingers; that tight band at the entrance to his ass biting me. It was like his body wanted to reject me, but it didn’t have it in it anymore to push me out all the way.
That’s how I knew it was time.
I withdrew my fingers from his ass.
There was so much lube on them that they looked like they were coated in rubber cement.
I had to fight the inexplicable, primal urge to smell them.
Why did I always want to smell my fingers after I’d touched something… bodily?
Anyway, I swept that thought away and tore open one of the condoms. In one quick motion, I rolled it over my shaft, ready to go.
I eyed Kyle, sprawled out on the bed before me. His perfect muscley back… the way his hands splayed on either side, like he was pushing the mattress into the earth.
I narrowed my eyes. Something about this didn’t seem right…
I couldn’t put my finger on what it was at first, but then it came to me:
“Turn over,” I said, my voice harsh and low with the command. I almost didn’t recognize it as it came out of my mouth.
It was someone else’s voice; someone more experienced with this kind of thing.
It pleased me.
It felt like I was masking and unmasking myself at the same time, allowing myself to enjoy the bliss and freedom tied to both truth and obscurity at once.
But then, Kyle turned over and the way he looked at me with that wide-eyed gaze…
The way his mouth came open in that small “o,” suggesting his innocent…
It was the look of someone about to be corrupted. Willingly corrupted.
And I fucking loved it.
He turned over so his chest faced me.
I watched his muscles swim under his skin as he adjusted; every inch of him looking fucking perfect in the silvery moonlight…
Yes. That was all I could think: Yes.
This was exactly where I wanted to be; doing exactly what I wanted to do. Not just the sex part, but the being with him part. Being together in the way we were always meant to be together.
Then, a thought bubbled to the surface of my mind like it came directly out of the pipeline to my subconscious.
I placed my cock underneath his balls and found his hole; lined everything up. Then I looked up into his eyes and said:
“Do you trust me?”
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Kyle
“Yes,” I said without hesitation.
Phil leaned over me, his naked body shining silver in the moonlight. I couldn’t stop looking at how perfect he looked; his pillow-y pecs and his smooth, lithe body. And that impressive cock…
All I wanted was that cock inside me. I felt like then, things would finally be—
He pressed forward gently.
“Ah!” I cried.
Phil stopped. “Did I hurt you?”
“N-no,” I lied. “It feels good… just more lube, yeah?”
Without another word, Phil reached for the tiny bottle of lube, squirted a dollop into his fingers with a smoof, and rubbed it all around our connection.
The he looked into my eyes again and said, “Ready?”
I gave him a quick nod. But from where I was, there was no way I could tell him no, even if I wanted to.
I just wanted him too much.
So, he pressed in again, gently.
“Oh…” I moaned. It felt like the sound came out in slow motion; like everything was in slow motion.
Phil wrapped his long, gentlemanly fingers around my thighs and pushed in gently.
I could feel my body move around his shaft, letting him in.
“Oh…” I moaned again, yielding. He’d worked my hole so expertly, so thoroughly earlier that it was almost completely relaxed.
And centimeter by centimeter, he pressed his way in.
I loved how I could feel him sliding into me under my balls. I loved the way his shaft, all lubed up like well-oiled machinery, slid between my ass cheeks into the deepest part of me.
And what I loved most of all was that when I looked into his eyes, that look was back.
That look of pure, raw vulnerability.
Like he cared.
/> Like he was no longer pretending to be the spider in the shadows; the one in control of everything, who had his fingers through the backs of everyone.
No. It was just Phil.
Phil and me, naked and connected like this.
And just like that, everything became more.
It was already more than an experiment. It was already more than a fuck. It didn’t feel like practice or curiosity anymore…
He interlaced his fingers with mine as he pushed inside, then withdrew.
“Oh…” I moaned again.
Phil leaned forward and planted a kiss on my lips.
I took the kiss greedily, drinking in all the emotions they conveyed with a ravenous thirst.
That’s what I craved from him. I couldn’t quite put words to it, but I knew that I’d gotten everything I wanted in that kiss.
Connection. We fit together with divine perfection.
I finally felt whole.
His knuckles danced against mine as our fingers wove together, writhing.
The lust from earlier had evolved into something else; something powerful and all-consuming and deeper. I realized then that trying to fight it was like trying to fight gravity:
Phil and I didn’t need to try to be together. We just always were… together.
It felt like ninety-nine percent of the work to weave us to one another had already been done, and now, having sex like this—
No. Making love like this was just the cherry on the cake. The bow on the present. The last step in an intricate ladder to heaven, connecting us.
As Phil pushed into me so gently, so tenderly, and kissed me with everything he didn’t have the words to say, I knew. I knew in my bones that we were together now, and nothing would ever tear us apart.
He kissed me gently, taking his time with the way his lips moved over mine. Shaping around me in an intricate dance.
An artist.
He was certainly an artist with his body; with the way I could feel him move against me. It was like we were making our own secret language; our own communication that was uniquely ours.
I wanted him. I needed him.
Phil pulled away from the kiss and dug his fingers into the meat of my creamy thighs.
I looked down and saw where our bodies connected, all shiny and slippery with lube. My cock stood erect against my stomach, my balls leaned over to the side, and all I could see was Phil’s shaft disappearing between my legs.
I moaned over and over as he pressed into me, a little faster each time.
“Yeah…” I cried. “Don’t stop…”
Phil bit his bottom lip as he thrusted, harder and harder, faster and faster.
A pressure knotted in my lower belly, tightening and threatening to… to…
To burst.
“Oh! Oh! Oh!” I cried, feeling pure ecstasy crest and spill over through my body. My cock quivered, then spewed out streams of pearly white semen, splattering up over my chest in shaky cursive.
“Yeah… Yeah baby, come…” Phil uttered, slamming into me with a quickening rhythm.
“Yeah!” I cried, digging my fingers into the mattress.
My cock continued to work; spurting my come into the air like a super soaker.
Phil made a strained sound.
I forced my eyes open and saw that his neck was all muscle cords; sinewy and thick and hard.
He was about to come! Come inside me!
But then I remembered that the condom was on, and that would catch everything. It filled me with a sense of safety, but also…
There was a weird part of my brain that wanted him to spill inside me; fill me up like a fucking twinkie. I wanted to feel his seed in my ass, take it all.
But that would be for later.
Phil cocked his head back and I felt his cock pulse inside me.
Fuck, it felt so good I thought I would come a second time.
He made a strained sound, then collapsed on top of me, panting.
I wrapped my arms around him, feeling the slippery sweat on his back.
Phil was panting next to my ear.
I felt like I was half-knocked out by how hot it had all been—seeing Phil come apart on top of me—inside me like that. The one time he didn’t have control.
And I’d done that. I’d done that with my body.
The thought that I’d converted a straight guy to gay just by… by being sent off a sense of victory somewhere deep within me. But that didn’t matter so much right now…
What took the forefront of my emotions was how pure; how right this all felt.
How I could feel with absolute certainty that I was with the right person at the right time, and nothing could separate us.
Phil’s breathing slowed in my ear, but I could still feel his heart through his chest, thrumming against his ribcage like a hummingbird’s wing. And hottest of all, I could still feel his cock twitching inside me, muscle flexing against muscle.
“That was…” Phil panted. Then he amended the statement and asked, “How was that for you?”
I kissed him on the temple, taking my time lingering there. I realized this was probably Phil’s first time doing anal—but I couldn’t be completely sure. He might have done it with girls before… but that didn’t matter. That was all background stuff that took a backseat to how we felt here, in this moment.
I interlaced my fingers with his.
He rolled over to the side, his dark eyes still full of that vulnerable look.
Oh, right. He’d asked me a question.
He was nervous. He wanted to please me.
“It was incredible,” I said truthfully.
And then, a beautiful smile spread across his face. His teeth were so white that they seemed to gleam in the darkness.
The way he was smiling t me right now—it wasn’t a fake smile. It wasn’t the type of smile I’d seen on his face when he was winning something—no. This was a pure, innocent, boyish smile. He was the boy I’d been best friends with as a kid. He’d lowered his shields for once—shields and walls that he’d built so high over our time as teenagers that I never thought I’d get in.
But here I was, looking him face to face on even ground.
I leaned forward and kissed him gently.
This time, I lingered on his lips.
“It was perfect,” I said.
We woke up next to each other in my bed the next morning, nestled like spoons. When I creaked my eyes open and saw him next to me, in my arms, a wave of happiness flooded through me.
I was exactly where I needed to be at exactly the right time. It was a feeling so sure and true that it anchored me to this spot in my bed, and wouldn’t let me think anything else for those few seconds of bliss.
Phil stirred, and as he did, I watched his dark hair fall over itself. Shifting with infinite dark patterns, even here in the dazzling morning light.
I kissed him on the ear and his eyes fluttered open.
His shiny dark eye went to mine.
And then all at once, I could see the memories from last night download into his mind.
For a second there, I felt a flicker of panic. I thought he would regret everything; regress to his former I’m-too-cool-for-feelings state.
But instead, he smiled in that same beautiful, genuine way and kissed me on the lips. It was a long and slow kiss, and I could tell he meant it. He meant every shape, and I understood what that kiss meant:
I love you.
I loved him too. But saying it could wait.
It was one of those things that didn’t have to be said. Hell, I’m not sure if I didn’t say it to him sometime when we were growing up together. Though I didn’t mean it.
Not in this way.
The bond between us had always been there, it had just shifted colors. But the color it had changed to was one beyond the scale of what any human could see.
Some kind of ultraviolet, I think.
“Stop thinking so much,” Phil said, kissing me again.
I
giggled through the kiss, a low, satisfied rumble in my chest. Then when I pulled away, I said, “Right. Thinking about things is your job.”
He smiled.
I loved the way I could feel his lips curve up through the smile.
Then he turned over and the pillows and blankets and such rustled with him.
He turned back to me and said, “School’s still a thing. It’s almost time to go—”
“I don’t care about it,” I said. “Wanna play hooky?”
He smiled again, then rolled on top of me for round two.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I said.
Hours later, we finally got out of bed and showered. I led him out of the bathroom and down the hallway, holding his hand.
That’s when I saw the cracked vase with the jackal on it, one large chunk depicting its blank, hollow-looking eye.
“Shit,” Phil hissed, squatting to examine the damage. He looked up at me with questions in his eyes. “Do you think we can repair it?”
I shrugged. “I dunno. I don’t think my parents care about this one as much, to be honest.”
But all at once, I could see my mother’s face in my mind’s eye. How disappointed she would look when she discovered the shattered artifact…
“This isn’t okay,” Phil said, concern pulling at his features. “We’ve got to find a way to fix this—”
Something in my chest lifted, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what. It was something to do with Phil, yes, but what?
As he pawed through the shattered remains and began to babble nervously—he was so cutely nervous—about types of glue he could use to set the pieces together. And he even mentioned taking it into the art studio to fix it.
Then, it came to me; it was like he was offering these things to me. Each option he fed me tasted so good; like he was trying to please me; appeased me.
Like he cared. Like he genuinely cared.
That’s how I knew Phil had changed.
The old Phil would have shrugged, not cared much, and tried to cover up the evidence as best he could—with minimal inconvenience to him.
That was the Phil I didn’t trust.
But this one—this boy kneeling down in front of me, pawing through the shattered jackal, was a new person. He cared about me—genuinely cared about me, and he didn’t want me to get into trouble.
Kyle From High School Page 12