Page 24

Mathéo

I fight against the voice in my head. It’s loud and authoritative, but I don’t listen. I stay in the moment, just Micki and me and his lips on mine, our tongues intertwined. He’s sitting on my lap, but other than that, only our mouths touch. I carefully place my hands on Micki’s flanks and run my fingers up over his shoulder blades. It’s not a woman’s body I’m touching, I can feel that immediately. I can’t feel breasts at the side of his ribs and everything about him is firm and toned, even if you can’t tell at first glance with his clothes on. He simply looks slim then.

I don’t know if I like the way he feels yet, but I do know that I like touching him, feeling him under my fingers. Even if there’s still a layer of clothes between us at the moment. On the one hand, I’d like to be brave enough to put my fingers under his cropped top, but on the other I’m afraid that I’ll panic and have to stop completely. And I definitely don’t want that. Slowly, Micki said. Very slowly if we have to. And even though I know that any woman in Micki’s position would probably be naked by now, I keep my hands on his covered shoulder blades drawing firm circles with my thumbs.

Micki exhales with a soft moan, then reaches one hand into my hair and lowers his forehead against mine. I enjoy the closeness, it feels good. It’s not sexual at that moment, I’m not even hard yet. Again, I know this would be different with a woman. Whether I wanted it or not, my body would react if a woman sat on my lap like that. Though said body hasn’t been reliable with women lately either, so who knows.

My desire to touch Micki comes from an almost unquenchable longing for intimacy and safety that always arises when I think about him, but not out of any sexual desire. My connection to him is emotional, at least for the moment. I just hope that’s enough, and I just hope he’s willing to wait for me to figure myself out.

“It’s late and it’s been a lot today. Let’s go to sleep.” I have no idea if I should sleep on the sofa, but Micki holds me on the bed. “You sleep with me. My bed is big enough. We don’t have to touch if you don’t want to. But I want my boyfriend with me tonight.” His words make my gut tingle, and everything gets warm. Okay, yeah, I think I can do that.

“I usually sleep in only boxer briefs, but if I can leave my T-shirt on. I can also put on a longer T-shirt.” Micki looks down at himself sheepishly and patting his naked belly with both hands.

“No, wear what you usually wear, I ... I want this.” I think. My heart wants this, but my head is asking me if I still have all my wits about me and reminding me about what a fucking faggot I’ve become because I want to lie in bed half-naked with a guy. Be a man Mathéo. Men don’t listen to their hearts, men only listen to their heads . I don’t want to listen to my head. “Do you have a favorite side?”

Micki laughs. “No, I usually just lie in the middle, but I tend to prefer the right. Does that suit you?”

I nod and sit down on the edge of the bed when Micki starts swearing. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I only have one comforter. I’ve never needed a second one. We can buy you one, but we’ll have to share for tonight.” Shit ... I’m thinking about putting a T-shirt back on because I’m not sure my head can take skin on skin.

My head is still loud and it takes so much energy not to listen.

“That’s okay.”

But Micki runs to his closet and I see him rummaging through the T-shirts.

“No.” The bedroom isn’t big and in two long strides I’m standing behind him.

He turns around in surprise. “I don’t want it to be too much for you.”

“No, I want this.” And I mean it.

Micki sees me topless for the first time and apparently he likes what he sees, but he holds back, just looking. I’ve always been into sports, playing soccer since I was a kid and working out at the company gym. My six-pack is usually a hit with the women I’ve been with. Is it the same for Micki? The question makes me nervous for a moment, but why? So far, I’ve never cared if the woman liked me. Interesting ...

Micki swallows hard but doesn’t move. I’ve seen Micki’s bare stomach, I know that he doesn’t have an obvious six-pack like me, but he doesn’t have an ounce of body fat either. His stomach is flat and firm, matching his slim physique. While I have broad shoulders from years of training, he looks like a matchstick next to me. But I like what I see, and it surely doesn’t turn me off. It makes me curious. I want to know what his chest looks like, I want to know what it does to me to see and maybe even feel that there are no breasts, not even very small ones. Micki is a man.

My fingers find the hem of his top. “May I?”

Two big dark eyes look at me questioningly. “Are you sure?”

I love those eyes, so dark that you almost can’t see the pupils. His skin is light with an olive undertone that I’m sure will tan in the summer. Not burn red like me, with my pale skin and light eyes. If I’m not extra cautious, I even get freckles. Why do you look like that? Men don’t have freckles! You look like little girl!

He is so beautiful, and I have no doubts that I want to take his shirt off. If I can lose myself in his eyes, I’m sure. I nod briefly and pull the top over his head. The wild curls spring back into place and even though I know he’s only three years younger than me, the curls and his smooth face take a few more years off his age. I don’t know how he does it, but his head aside, he has no hair on his body. Nothing. I’ve had worse shaved women. And I’m dark-haired myself, if I’m not careful I’m a bear. If I shave in the morning, I’m sporting a 5 o’clock shadow at 4 in the afternoon.

My eyes find Micki’s, who looks at me cautiously. There is no reason for his uncertainty. His natural beauty takes my breath away. My fingertips move from his belly button to his chest as if they have a life of their own. As I graze his nipple, a shiver runs through his body, and he whimpers softly. Because of me, I’m doing this to him.

The thought is hot and for the first time since I’m with him I notice my cock slowly emerging from its hiding place. My hands seek out different paths across Micki’s chest from his shoulders, along his collarbone and back to his belly button.

Micki is hard, it’s obvious in his tight briefs and he’s not small. I can tell he’s uncomfortable, but he can’t help it and the idea of me making him hard is super-hot. “Jerk off.”

“What?” Micki’s voice is nothing more than a raspy whisper.

“Jerk off, I want to watch you ... please.”

“No.” He shakes his head almost in panic.

“Please. I want to see it. I’m still too scared to touch you, but I want to see you doing it.”

Slowly Micki gets out of his boxers, his cock is long and slender, and very hard. His movements seem unsure. I don’t want him to feel uncomfortable, but I find the idea of watching him incredibly hot. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Yes, I want to, very much so, but I’m afraid that it’s too much for you, that you’ll be repulsed.”

I shake my head confidently. “Not going to happen. Please, I want to see you.”

“Okay, lean back there.” Micki has a playful, dominant manner that I like. Usually I’m the one in charge in the bedroom, but with him I have no problem giving up control. On the contrary, I find I welcome it. I lean back against the headboard and watch Micki as he kneels on the bed in front of me, his thighs slightly spread.

He starts slowly, working his cock in deliberate strokes, not too fast, but fast enough to make his breath hitch. I can feel my cock stiffen. For the first time since I knew Micki is a man, I’m fully hard. It’s so incredibly sexy to see him in ecstasy like this. His breathing gets more and more uneven, and he closes his eyes.

I can’t hold back any longer and even though I see my father’s disdainful look in my mind’s eye, I pull down my own boxer shorts and take my cock in my hand. I’m adjusting my rhythm to Micki’s now short hard strokes, and I can feel my orgasm rising, faster—much faster—than usual.

Micki is on the edge, I can tell, his tension is unmistakable, and his jerky movements are the best indication. I feel the same way and yet I’m sure he’ll come first. I want that, I want him to see me when I come—for him, because of him.