Page 30

With any other partner I’d expect them to rest down on top of me, or snuggle in against my side.

Marcos, after a final kiss to the center of my chest, pushes back onto his heels.

I spread my legs a little wider to accommodate him, not wanting to bump him if he isn’t wanting to be touched any longer.

He tugs on the sheet I’m lying on top of.

“Want to get under this?” he asks.

I slide off the bed, and we crawl naked beneath the sheet together.

Marcos immediately curls up on his side facing me, so I do the same.

We’re a little sweaty and sticky with cum, but moving away from the bed isn’t an option right now.

Not with Marcos warm beside me, dark hair fucked up from my fingers and eyes a rich, exquisite brown.

Tugging the blanket up so it’s tucked beneath my chin, I smile at him.

“Can I stay here tonight?” I ask.

“Sure. I’m not a cuddler,” he warns. I gasp dramatically, which earns me an eye roll.

“I’ve never done that before. Got off in that way,” I tell him. He does a small shrugging motion.

“I figured.”

“I liked it.” He snorts. I suppose it was pretty obvious that I liked it. “Sorry about the bottoming thing.”

“You don’t have to bottom, Nate. We don’t have to have anal at all if you don’t want to. Clearly there are other enjoyable things that can get us off. Not wanting to do something isn’t anything to be sorry about.”

“What do you do? When two tops get together?” I ask.

I’m genuinely curious. It’s not exactly something I’ve thought about before.

The nerves that I’d banished crawl their way back into my stomach, the butterflies shaking out their wings and fluttering back to life.

Maybe I just need some time to wrap my mind around the idea, but the thought of bottoming makes me feel a little ill.

It’s probably not as scary as I’m making it out to be.

“I don’t know. I guess they just don’t have anal.” He moves his shoulder in a shrug again, clearly unconcerned. I’m a little annoyed at myself, though. I like penetrative sex, and I’d like to have Marcos in all the ways I can. I need to just get over myself.

“Well, I want to. So maybe we can work up to it.”

He stares at me, eyes moving between mine before dropping down to my mouth. He’s so serious looking, with those heavy brows and that narrow, pointed face.

“Sure. But you top and I’ll bottom.” I raise my eyebrows at that, and he smiles softly. “You obviously don’t want to, Nate, and that’s fine. It really isn’t a big deal. I don’t care if I top or bottom. I care that you feel safe, and aren’t just doing something because you feel like you have to.”

I squint at his face as he talks, noting the way he becomes less relaxed as he goes.

Again, I feel like I’m privy to only half of the conversation he’s actually having.

Sometimes, with the way Marcos talks, I worry about him.

There’s a gravitas to his words and bearing that speak of someone a lot older than he is.

It scares me a little bit, this nagging feeling that something happened to him but I don’t know what it was.

“I feel safe,” I tell him somewhat awkwardly, since this seems like the most important part of what he’d said. I’ve practically been throwing myself at him for months. At what point did he start worrying I didn’t feel safe?

“Good. So when the time comes that you’re feeling like giving it a try, I’ll bottom.”

He says this so firmly, it’s clear there is no room for argument. Honestly, I’m a little relieved. Bedroom roles have never been something I’ve needed to worry about, and I hadn’t expected to be confronted with them so soon. I’m lucky Marcos isn’t a jackass.

“Also,” he adds slowly, cheeks coloring slightly with a blush, “I recently had some lab work done with my doctor, and I had them add on an STI panel. I thought…well, I have it on my phone, if you want a copy of it. I don’t—I haven’t been fooling around with other people.”

My stomach, already unsteady, feels like it’s been caught in someone’s fist. We’d had a passing conversation over text about testing, and it hasn’t crossed my mind since.

Marcos’ face, so close to mine, looks guarded and a little wary, like he expects me to tell him I’ve been fucking around. Or perhaps worried that I want to.

“Shit, Marcos, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think. I haven’t been with anyone since I met you,” I admit. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

This sends his eyes dropping away from mine, already flushed cheeks darkening as though I’ve embarrassed him.

“I’ll make an appointment,” I add, before repeating, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m not trying to make you feel bad, I just…” Pausing, Marcos takes a deep breath, dark lashes fluttering against his skin. He meets my eyes once more. “It’s just really important to me that you have all the information before we do something new, that’s all. I need you to feel protected.”

Well, fuck. I stare at him, trying to come up with a reply that could adequately express how I feel.

I’m usually so good at talking, yet the one time I need that skill, I cannot seem to find the words.

Marcos doesn’t seem to need them, though.

Having said what he wanted to say, his expression has relaxed once more.

What I really want, in this moment, is to be able to touch him.

I could show him how I feel, better than words could ever explain.

There’s a lock of hair falling over his forehead and catching in his eyelashes as he blinks. I brush it back, careful not to make too much contact with his face. His dark eyes are so intent on my face, it feels like a physical touch.

“It’s been a really long time since I’ve been able to manage this,” he says quietly, after a few minutes of silence.

It takes me a second to figure out he means “this” as in intimacy.

I remember that first night in the backyard of the party.

How he’d put my hands on his waist and asked me to keep them there.

Today, I was given no such restrictions.

“Things have been bad, huh?” I comment softly, while internally begging him to tell me what exactly has been going on.

“Not so much recently. You sure you want to stay?”

I sigh at the redirect, but let it go. “Yeah, I want to stay. Is that okay? If you want me to clear out before Max comes back, just say the word.”

“No need to hide from Max.” He chuckles a little bit. “He’ll be thrilled when I tell him we’re together.”

“Yeah? I’m good enough for his best friend?”

Marcos’ eyes noticeably warm and this time it’s him who reaches out to press gentle fingertips to my face.

“Yeah. You’re good enough.”