My Favorite Sin

by Lina Langley

  I lean back on the sofa and close my eyes. Cyrus puts his hand in mine and squeezes it. My eyes flutter open. “Cy,” I say. “Are you okay? You’re acting sort of strange.”

  “Yes,” he says. “I just can’t believe you almost kissed me.”

  I blink. “I shouldn’t have done that, right?”

  He cocks his head. “I don’t know,” he says. “I didn’t hate the idea of it.”

  I blink again, my mouth dry. “Seriously?”

  “Yes,” he replies, his hand squeezing mine. “I mean, I know we’re friends and everything, but I’m not going to lie to you. I’ve definitely thought about it.”

  I put my head on his shoulder. “But wouldn’t that ruin everything?”

  He leans his head on mine. I can feel his breathing, his chest moving up and down. “I don’t know,” he says. “Maybe it’s what we’ve been leading up to all along. You know?”

  I turn to look at him. His hand is in my hair. My heart is beating fast as I think about what he’s saying. I have thought about it, but I have also thought about how much there was to lose. Our paths are going to diverge, and I know that it’s likely we won’t see each other after we both leave this island. But if we leave, and I haven’t touched him, I haven’t kissed him… I don’t know if I’m not going to regret it for the rest of my life.

  “Do you want to do it?” I ask after I swallow.

  “Do I want to do what?”

  “Kiss me,” I say.

  His eyes are so wide and dark when he’s staring at me. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

  I bite down on my lower lip. For a second, I consider saying no. I consider telling him I don’t want things to change between us, but I think this night has already changed everything between us. My gaze darts between his eyes and his lips.

  I get closer to him, kissing him softly on the mouth. The kiss is soft and chaste, our lips pressing against one another’s. It sends a shiver down my spine as he traces his finger on my jawline. He moves away from me and breathes out heavily.

  “Alex,” he says quietly, his voice croaky. I think he’s going to ask me if I want to keep going, but I don’t want him to ask. I lean into him and kiss him on the lips again, until our kisses get more and more passionate. Then he grabs the back of my head and pulls my head back.

  He’s kissing down my chin, down my neck, until he gets to the top of my shirt.

  He stops to look up at me. “Alex,” he says again, his voice a whimper. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  I look down at him. I am sure, I’ve never been more certain of anything else in my life. I nod. “Yes,” I say. “Let’s go to my room.”

  He nods and straightens up. He grabs my hand and starts walking me toward my bedroom. We stop before we get there, when he pushes me against the door and kisses me deeply again, his body pressing into mine. We’re both wearing jeans, we’re both still wearing most of our clothes, but so far, this feels like the hottest moment of my life.

  He kisses me again and the door creaks behind me as it opens. He never stops kissing me, not as I walk back toward the bed and as I sit down on the bed. Cyrus moves away from me for a second and then drops down to his knees in front of me.

  He starts undoing my buttons quickly. He barely stops to take a break as he starts to take my jeans off, sliding them off me and revealing how hard I am for him. I could come just from the way that Cyrus looks right now, with his lips half-parted and covered in spit. He swallows as he looks into my eyes. “Did you know I’ve always wanted to do this?”

  “You have?” I ask as he starts taking off my black boxers. He nods and then licks his lips when he looks at me, moving his face closer to my dick. It doesn’t take long for him to wrap his mouth around my cock, his eyes closing. His mouth is hot and warm and perfect, and he bobs his head up and down my hardened dick like a pro. My cock is throbbing as he moves his head up and down, his hand on my balls. I’m holding his head down softly with my hand—at least that’s what I think I’m doing—but I feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge and then Cyrus stops and looks right at me, his brown eyes wide and beautiful.

  I move his head away from my dick. “Wait.”

  “What?”

  “I’m going to blow my load in your mouth,” I say. “I want you to feel good, too.”

  He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I already feed good.”

  I swallow. “I don’t mean like that,” I say. He stands up and kisses me on the mouth. He tastes like me mixed with coffee and honey. “I mean, I want to fuck you.”

  He looks at me, his eyes glimmering and a smile playing on his lips. “You’re a top?”

  “Fuck you,” I say.

  He swallows, his eyes wide. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” I reply, kissing him softly on the mouth, biting his lower lip. “Yes. I mean it.”

  I grab him by the waist and press his body close to mine. He takes a heaving breath as I hold him up and then throw him down on the bed, as softly as I can. I’m not wearing anything below the waist, but I’m still wearing my shirt and Cyrus is wearing far too many clothes.

  “Stay there,” I say as I start to undo the buttons of my shirt.

  He smiles and bites his lower lip. “I wasn’t going to anywhere,” he says. “I was enjoying the show.”

  “Good,” I say. I throw my shirt off and watch it fall somewhere. Then I get on the bed, one leg around each side of him, and I keep kissing him on the mouth. As far as I’m concerned, Cyrus and I could kiss forever and it would be amazing, but I need release. Just kissing him is making my dick throb.

  “Can I fuck you now?”

  He nods, his eyes closed. His breath is trembling when he speaks. “Yes,” he says quietly.

  “Hey,” I say, rolling off him and grabbing his hand. “It’s okay. We can stop if you want to stop.”

  He opens his eyes, setting his gaze on my face. “I don’t want to stop,” he says. “I’m just a little nervous.”

  “Why?” I ask, my gaze darting between his eyes and his mouth.

  I watch his throat work as he swallows. “What if everything changes after this?”

  “Nothing is going to—”

  “No,” he says, his eyes watery. “I mean, the way you look at me.”

  I smile at him and bite my lower lip. “You don’t have to worry about that,” I say. “Nothing is going to change. You’re beautiful and I just want you to feel good. I can’t wait to be inside you.”

  He groans. When I put my lips on his forehead, I can feel how warm he is.

  “I want you,” I say. “All of you.”

  He raises his arms so I can pull it off him. I kiss him on the mouth, then move down over his skin, which is warm under me. I stop for a second when I see the scars on his chest. I look up at him to find him staring. I kiss his chest, his scars, then move down to kiss his stomach. He’s breathing heavily, his stomach moving up and down as he takes sharp breaths.

  I get to his jeans and start to unzip them. “Lube,” I say as I move his jeans down his legs, scratching his skin as I do it. “It’s in my nightstand.”

  He passes it to me when I’m done with his jeans. Our gazes meet for a second and then he nods slightly. I smile at him. He looks so beautiful like this, so vulnerable, so very fuckable. I grab my hard dick, slather it with lube, and then look down at Cyrus again. “Are you ready?”

  Cyrus looks at me. “Yes,” he says. He’s still on his back and now he’s lifting up the lower half of his body so that I have easier access to him.

  “Do you want—”

  He smirks at me. “You know I don’t have a prostate, right?”

  I smile at him. “I just didn’t want to do anything you didn’t want to do.”

  “I want to do this,” I say. I’ve been hesitating, so he extends his arm and grabs my cock, guiding me into him. I feel like I’m going to come the second I’m inside of him, and then he tilts his head back and groans loudly.

 
It takes me a second to get my bearings, because this is a lot, and I don’t know how much of it I can take. I lean down so I can kiss him as I thrust into him, his hips moving while I fuck him. We’re staring into each other’s eyes when I realize I’m not going to be able to last much longer, not while he looks like this, not while he feels like this.

  He bites his lower lip and his gaze meets mine. “Are you going to come inside me?”

  “If you want me to. Is that okay?”

  “Yes,” he says. “It’s more than okay.”

  “Cy—”

  “I want you to.”

  He’s quiet and I lean forward to kiss him on the mouth before I start moving faster, fucking him harder, and then I can feel the orgasm building up inside of me as he moans and screams, his body twisting under me, his skin flushing, his fingernails digging into my back and my name on his lips.

  When I’m done, I roll off Cyrus. I notice that I’m panting. He grabs my hand, our fingers interlacing. I don’t look at him. My mind is racing, and I’m thinking about what I just did, what it means. I know I need to ask him, but a huge part of me is too scared to say anything.

  “Alex,” he says. I swallow and turn to look at him. “Hey. Don’t be scared.”

  I bite my lower lip. “It’s like you can read my mind.”

  “If the musician thing doesn’t work out, psychic is next on the list,” he says.

  I smile, but I have no idea how he can joke at a time like this. I take a deep breath. “Listen, Cy—”

  “It’s okay,” he says. “You haven’t ruined anything.”

  “What?”

  “Psychic, remember? I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to tell me you hope you haven’t ruined our friendship and you’re going to tell me that you love me. Not in that way, you know. Then you’ll say things are complicated and I’ll agree with you, and we’ll stay here and cuddle, and then things will be awkward for a bit.”

  “I…” I don’t know how to finish that sentence. I do know he’s not wrong, and something about that kills me.

  “Then it’s going to be awkward for a few weeks,” he says. “And then one of us will move away, and we’ll meet up when we can for drinks, and at first, it’ll be every few months, then it’ll be every few years. But we’ll never talk about this night again.”

  I blink, my eyes watering. “Is that what you want?”

  He smiles. “Babe, it’s not about what I want,” he says. “What I want doesn’t matter right now.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t understand,” I say. “Shouldn’t that be the only thing that matters?”

  “All flesh is like grass and all its glory like the flower of the field,” he says. “The grass withers and the flowers falls.”

  My eyes widen as I recognize what he’s quoting. “Is that from the book of Peter?”

  “Yes,” he says, the smile fading from his face.

  “I thought you weren’t religious,” I say.

  He bites his lower lip. “I’m not,” he replies. “I don’t care about the bible. I care about you.”

  I swallow. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say that. He smiles at me. “Look, can we just skip this part? Can we go to sleep, and then tomorrow, just pretend everything is normal between us?”

  “It is,” I say, holding him close. “Well, I don’t know if it’s normal…”

  “Alex—”

  “But it feels right,” I say. “And that’s what matters, right?”

  He smiles at me. “Yes,” he says. “Of course that’s what matters.”

  CONTINUE

  Chapter FIVE

  After that, everything is sort of a blur. Montgomery excuses himself and goes to his bedroom, Cyrus goes get himself a drink and I put my clothes on very quickly as I wonder what the fuck just happened.

  That was… incredible, and I never thought anything like that would happen, but now that it’s over, something about it feels wrong. But nothing seems to have happened to either one of them and they’re both acting like it’s not a big deal at all.

  I start going to bed, but before I do, I walk over to Cyrus in the kitchen. I grab his shoulder and squeeze it. “Hey,” I say.

  He smiles at me. “Hey, babe,” he says. “Are you doing okay?”

  I nod, but I can’t really get any words out. He tilts his head, his eyes narrowing. “Are you sure that you’re okay?”

  I shrug my shoulders. He grabs my hand and starts pulling me toward the couch. I want to ask him what he’s doing, but again, it feels like I can’t speak at all. He sits down and waits for me to sit down next to him. I do it, only because I think that’s what I’m supposed to do.

  I blink while I wait for him to say something else. I wait for him to speak, because I don’t even think I’m capable of speech anymore.

  “Do you want some water?”

  I set my gaze on him and manage to shake my head. “What—what was that?” I ask, my voice shaky.

  He tilts his head, his eyes narrowing. “I thought you liked it.”

  I blink. “It’s not that I didn’t like it,” I say. “I mean, I did. I just—it was just a lot. Like it was both of you and it was…”

  Cyrus laughs, throwing his head back. “I know,” he says. “I was there, remember.”

  I nod and I can feel the blood draining from my face. He was there. He was on his knees, in front of me and—fuck. What if this changes everything between us? What if I can’t look at him the same as I did before?

  He grabs my hand and squeezes it. “Alex, seriously, you gotta chill,” he says. “Nothing has changed between us.”

  I look him up and down. The light is kind of dim in my living room, but he looks way more tired than before, older. I swallow. “Are you sure?”

  “Not if you don’t want it,” he says. There’s a long pause before he speaks again. “And you don’t. Right?”

  I open my mouth to tell him that I don’t, but something feels off about this. It’s like he’s asking me a different question, and whatever answer I give him, it’s going to be the wrong one. I turn slightly so that we’re face to face with each other, our fingers still intertwined in front of me. “Cy?”

  He furrows his brow. “What?”

  “You know that I love you, right?”

  That felt like the right thing to say at a time, but now I think I’ve made a mistake, because his face darkens after I speak. “Yeah,” he says. “I know that.”

  Al long moment passes before either one of us speaks again. Cyrus breaks the silence, his voice a tremulous whisper. “I think I’m going to go home.”

  He stands up, but I don’t let his hand go. “I thought you were staying the night.”

  “I think I need some time to clear my head, babe,” he says, moving away from me. Our hands stop touching as he starts to walk away. He smiles at me, but his eyes aren’t shining, and it looks like the smile hasn’t reached his eyes. “Nothing personal.”

  I know I’ve upset him, but I don’t know how I could get him to stay. I watch as he walks toward the kitchen, then into the foyer. He stops for a second, looks over his shoulder, and stares at me for a long second before he walks out the door.

  He doesn’t say anything. The only thing I hear is the door closing quietly behind him. All I hear after that is silence.

  CONTINUE

  Chapter FIVE

  Montgomery is moving around in the kitchen, being extremely loud. I wake up, put some clothes on and walk over to where he is. He smiles at me. His eyes look bloodshot and there are bags under them, but his smile seems sincere.

  “Hey,” he says. “Did you sleep okay?”

  I nod, smiling back at him. “Yes,” I say. “What about you?”

  “Yes,” he says. “In my bedroom. Thanks to you.”

  “You’re welcome,” I reply, waving my hand in front of my face. “That was no problem. You didn’t want to spend any more time in the drunk tank anyway. That place stinks.”

  He smiles at me, shaking
his head. “It’s not really that bad once you get used to it,” he says. “I just—I don’t know, I really felt like I needed to get out of there last night. It was giving me crazy anxiety.”

  “That’s okay,” I say, walking over to the coffee machine. I pour myself coffee and lean back on the counter. Our kitchen isn’t too big, but we can both fit in. At least we normally can. Montgomery is moving around and I keep having to get out of his way. “What are you doing?”

  “Breakfast,” he says. “To thank you.”

  I roll my eyes, still smiling at him. “Seriously, it’s no big deal.”

  “It’s a big deal to me,” he says. He stops walking so he can look right at my face. There is a scar between his eyebrows, right on top of his nose. I don’t think I’ve ever noticed it before. He catches me staring and smiles. “Oh, this?”

  “Sorry,” I say. “That was beyond rude.”

  “It’s okay,” he replies. “Got it in my first bar fight.”

  I raise my eyebrows.

  “It was when I lived in Hull,” he says. “A few years ago. I was in school, my friends and I wanted to go out to this gay club, but I insisted we had to go to this trendy bar downtown. Because I was an idiot.”

  “So what happened?”

  “My friend Stephen—with a ph, not a v, he would kill me if I didn’t tell you that—decided that he would lean over the staircase to try and get a bottle of booze from behind the bartender. Stephen was almost clear, he had the bottle in his coat, and then some guy decided to rat him out to the manager,” he says, a smile on his face. “Except that wasn’t the manager. It was just some random dude who looked far more sober than he was and he decided he wanted Stephen’s booze So he tried to get it out of Stephen’s coat, but Stephen acted like this random was hitting on him. That was… not a good idea.”

  “I bet,” I say, a smile on my face.

  “That’s when everything started to go wrong,” he says. “Or, you know, worse than it had before. Stephen’s fist made contact with the non-manager’s face and then a full-on fight started. Then the guy threw a bottle and made contact with my face. Here.”