Page 87 of String Boys

Kelly fell forward, slicking his sweaty hair back from his forehead. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll take care of you. Just let me in.”

Seth bit his lip, closing his eyes so he could concentrate, like when he was playing. He sank into the music of his own flesh and began to fly.

“Oh….” Kelly’s low moan echoed through his body, and he nodded.

“Faster,” he begged.

Kelly would do anything for him—here, now, flesh to flesh, Kelly would do anything.

He pulled back and surged forward, and again, and again. Slowly at first, then building as they both got used to the mechanics. Back and forth, until their bodies oiled each other, adapted, learned the pathways of pleasure and trust.

And faster.

Seth kept rising, past the ceiling, past the sky, up into the stratosphere, where he could see Sacramento, then California, then the continent and the sea. Higher, higher, his breath laboring, the oxygen thin, until the earth spun beneath him, blue and lovely, all problems too small to see.

His chest ached, his body pulled tight, and he exploded, pulled back to earth, back to himself in a heartbeat as his physical self exploded into orgasm, and he pitched off the shelf of climax in time to hear Kelly groan.

Seth opened his eyes and caught his lover, his heart, as Kelly came undone.

Here, anchored to reality, he felt the pulse and throb of Kelly inside his body, the heat and wetness as it flooded him. His own cock lay flat against his abdomen in a cooling puddle, and Kelly fell on top of him, trembling and lost.

“You need me,” Kelly whispered.

“Forever and ever,” Seth told him. “I love you.”

“Forever and ever.”

That’s all they could say for a while.

THEY WASHEDup. Kelly showered while Seth cleaned the carpet, and when he was done he stepped into the shower and let Kelly take care of him.

Washrag, everywhere. Kelly’s touches, gentle, reverent, in all the places he’d been.

“Sorry,” Kelly murmured, standing behind him, arms around his waist.

“For what?”

“You had plans for my birthday, all pretty.”

“I still do.”

Kelly shoved at his hip and turned him around. “Yeah?”

Seth nodded. “That’s how we’ll do this,” he said. “We won’t miss a day, even if it’s just a text. We won’t miss a week, even if we just Skype. And you will come visit, whenever you can. You will come see me, and we will… we will shove all the things we want to be to each other into that week, that month, whatever. That’s how we’ll do this. That’s how we have to.”

Oh no. He’d been so strong, all week. Kelly was the one grieving. Kelly was the one making the sacrifice. Seth didn’t get to do this. This wasn’t his time to mourn. This wasn’t his—

“We have to,” he repeated, voice creaking. “We have to, because I need you, and we have to make this work.”

“Shh….” Kelly kissed him, water and brine running into their mouths. He pulled away, his eyes as red-rimmed as Seth’s felt. “It’s a good plan,” he said, his voice rusty. “We can make this work.”

Seth closed his eyes and nodded, knowing the odds were against it. Knowing they were too young to promise forever. Knowing all the reasons he should just say goodbye now.

But he couldn’t. It would be like amputating a limb.

The water ran cold, and they got out, toweled off, changed back into their clothes. By the time Seth’s alarm went off, they were dozing in front of the television on the couch, lost in stupid TV.

Seth picked up his phone to turn it off just in time to get a text from his dad.