Page 10 of Pages of My Heart

Soon Charlie is rutting urgently against Thomas’s hips and thighs, on the verge of release. “Do you want to finish like this?” he mumbles between kisses.

Thomas’s hand comes up to caress his cheek and he pulls back to look at Charlie with a fiery intensity that makes his belly swoop. “I want us to finish together, but I—I want to be inside you, Charlie. Can we try?”

Charlie is shocked. Regardless of his own fantasies, this is not what he was expecting. “You don’t want me to”—he fumbles for the right words but doesn’t find them—“to do it to you?”

“No. I mean . . . I don’t think so.” Thomas looks worried and uncertain. “I just thought . . . I thought you would want me to do it to you. You don’t think you would like it?”

Charlie hesitates. “I might like it,” he finally admits. Heat rushes to his face and he has to avert his eyes. “I . . . I’ve touched myself there. Thought about what it’d be like.”

Thomas strokes across Charlie’s cheek with his thumb. “Charlie, look at me.”

He raises his eyes briefly but then nuzzles into Thomas’s neck, the embarrassment of his confession too much.

“Charlie, please.”

Gathering his courage, he forces himself to look at Thomas.

“Please don’t be embarrassed. Neither of us has done this before, and that’s okay. If you would rather put it in me, then I’ll try. I just . . . I feel like I want to fu—” Thomas stops short, not finishing his thought.

“You were about to say you want to fuck me, weren’t you?” Charlie smiles, in part because they need to lighten the mood, and partly because Thomas saying he wants to fuck him makes Charlie’s whole body vibrate with excitement. The vulgarity of it only increases the appeal.

Thomas smiles mischievously, delighted even, and then squeezes Charlie’s ass. “Do you want me to fuck you, Charlie?”

Charlie answers with his mouth, devouring Thomas and clambering to lie on top of him.

Thomas’s fingers make their way down the curve of his spine and slide between his ass cheeks, tentatively caressing the sensitive skin there.

Someone touching him in the most private of places is like nothing he’s ever experienced before.

But it undeniably feels good, regardless of the deviancy of it—or maybe because of it.

Without thinking, he scrambles up onto his knees so he is straddling Thomas’s hips to give him easier access, so desperate he is for more.

But as soon as he does, he wrestles with it, feeling suddenly unmanly, legs open and offering himself like a broad.

But he’s come this far, and Christ, he wants it.

Kissing Thomas once more, he climbs off of him and gets into position on all fours.

His stomach is twisted in knots, both fear and excitement unnaturally entwined.

“Come on, Red. Let’s give it a try.”

Thomas gets up onto his knees and positions himself behind him on the bed. He starts stroking up and down Charlie’s back, but Charlie’s erection begins to wilt, nerves increasing the longer he waits. He feels Thomas shifting around uncertainly on the hard mattress and he can’t take it.

“Are you gonna—”

“Do I just—”

They both speak at the same time which works to break some of the oppressive tension that’s built up in the room. Charlie snorts and Thomas chuckles softly.

“So do I just push it in?” Thomas tries again. He sounds as terrified as Charlie feels.

“Spit on your dick and get it more wet.”

Charlie looks over his shoulder and watches Thomas spit into his hand and rub it up and down his shaft. Their eyes meet for a brief moment, then Charlie looks away, bracing himself.

“Okay. I’m going to try now.”

Thomas presses up against his entrance and Charlie feels pressure—a lot of pressure—and then a sharp sting and a burn and then fucking pain. Charlie grunts and then pants, eyes watering. It’s not at all what he imagined it would feel like.

“Should I stop?” Thomas’s voice is pitched high with concern.

“No, wait. Just—just stop for a second.” Charlie tries to relax, breathing as deeply as he can. “Is it in?” He lowers down onto his elbows, arms shaking uncontrollably.

“Just the tip. Fuck, Charlie, you feel so good. So tight and warm. If I move, I—” He blows out a shaky breath. “Can I go deeper?”

Charlie bites down so hard on his bottom lip that he tastes blood. He’s now completely soft, but a desperate part of him wants to see this through.

“Okay, just go slow.”

Thomas grips his hips and pushes again, and Charlie feels like he’s ripping apart.

“Stop!” he spits out, lurching forward onto his stomach.

“Oh God, I’m sorry!” Thomas touches Charlie’s back briefly, then his hand is gone, as if afraid he might break. “It hurt that bad? Shit, Charlie, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t know it would . . .” he trails off, voice full of apology.

Charlie feels stupid and inadequate. And weak. “I’m sorry, too,” he mumbles into the mattress, not ready to show his face. “I think I’m too nervous to relax. And we need something better than fuckin’ spit. You got anything we could use?”

He feels Thomas lie down next to him, and he turns onto his side so that they’re facing each other, bodies still not touching.

“What about Vaseline? And what if I put something smaller in first, until you get used to it?”

Charlie frowns. “What the hell are ya gonna put in me?”

Thomas rolls onto his back, looking up at the ceiling while he considers it. “Why don’t I just use my fingers?” When Charlie doesn’t answer right away, Thomas turns to look at him again.

“All right.” It does seem like a decent idea, and he feels stupid for not thinking to do that from the start.

“Why don’t we just relax for a bit and try again later?”

Thomas pulls the blankets back over them and reaches for Charlie across the small bed. After a few sweet kisses and the gentle touch of Thomas’s hands upon his skin, Charlie’s muscles start to loosen. It’s only then that he realizes how tired he is, and he closes his eyes.

Thomas

Thomas wakes with a start. His room is dark and the house is silent.

Charlie is asleep in his arms, face pressed into the curve of his neck like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

They must have fallen asleep after their failed attempt.

Thomas closes his eyes again, trying to block out the awful feeling that he did something wrong, that he let Charlie down.

Everything they had done until they attempted penetration had felt amazing.

For Thomas, even that had felt mind-blowing.

Being even just partially inside Charlie had seemed so right, like Thomas belonged there.

But Charlie had only felt pain. The thought turns Thomas’s stomach. He needs to fix this.

Kissing Charlie on the forehead, he takes care not to disturb him as he untangles their limbs and slides out of bed, careful to avoid the squeaky floorboards as he creeps out of his bedroom.

In the bathroom he first relieves himself and then checks under the vanity, thrilled to find they have a jar of Vaseline still half full.

By the time he returns to his room, Charlie is stirring, rubbing his eyes and blinking in the low light.

“Tommy?”

“I’m here. It’s late. We must have drifted off.” Placing the Vaseline on the nightstand, he sits naked on the edge of the bed and places his hand on Charlie’s thigh. “Are you hungry? We have apple pie.”

Charlie hums. “Yeah, I could go for some pie.”

Thomas admires the way Charlie’s back arches off the mattress as he stretches, something in his chest giving a painful tug at the sweet furrow that forms between Charlie’s eyes when he yawns.

“I’m sorry about before,” he says, bringing one of Charlie’s hands to his lips and placing a kiss upon his palm. “Maybe we can try again? Slower this time. I found the Vaseline.” Thomas nods his head toward the jar on the nightstand.

Charlie lifts onto one elbow. “I feel like a fool. But yeah, maybe slower. I want to do this with you, Thomas. I do.”

Charlie then reaches up and slides a hand around the back of Thomas’s neck, pulling him down. Thomas eagerly accepts the kiss, glad to see the look of affection in Charlie’s eyes when they pull apart.

“Let’s put on our pajamas. Did you bring some?”

“I sure did.”

It’s after one o’clock when they finally make their way back upstairs to Thomas’s bedroom.

The pie was good, and they had laughed and danced around the kitchen until the heat between them rose once again.

Thomas is determined to make this work the second time around, and if not, to make sure that Charlie feels good at least, even if it’s only with his hands or his mouth.

His mouth. Thomas wants to try that very much.

Charlie wrapping his lips around Thomas’s cock had felt incredible—warm and wet and so different than a hand.

His brother Michael says only whores use their mouths, but Thomas doesn’t think of Charlie that way, and he wants to give the same pleasure in return.

As they shed their pajamas, an idea forms in Thomas’s mind.

“Lie down on your back, with your legs apart,” he says.

Charlie does as instructed, and Thomas positions himself between his legs and then lies down over him, chest to chest. They harden fast as they kiss, Thomas grinding slowly, his body leading the way.

Once Charlie is panting, Thomas kisses down his neck and then keeps moving down to his chest. He brushes the tips of his fingers over one of Charlie’s nipples, not sure if that’s something a man would like.

The soft moan that spills from Charlie’s lips gives him the answer, so he takes it further and licks over the raised nub.

This time Charlie arches off the bed in response, cursing breathlessly.

Pride swells in Thomas’s chest, making him brave, so he circles his tongue a few more times and then descends lower until he reaches Charlie’s hard, thick cock.

“God you’re beautiful, Charlie.” He nips and sucks at Charlie’s inner thigh. “Do you trust me?”