Page 15 of Up In Flames

Will

I ’d stood on the precipice of the biggest mistake of my life.

When Oren left the room and barricaded himself in the bathroom, I knew what an idiot I was.

My fear had made me stupid and unkind. There would always be the small chance that Oren had fixated on me because of what he’d been through and how we met, but I had to trust him to know his own mind.

Leaving wasn’t an option. If I left, that would be the end of us.

Of whatever friendship we’d nurtured, of all the memes we sent.

If I left, I had a feeling he’d never let me back in.

As much as I didn’t want to be an experiment for a straight boy, I had to believe that that wasn’t what this was.

That Oren wasn’t the kind of person who would throw himself at a man just to see what it was like.

As angry as he looked, he’d been far more hurt underneath. Behind the fire in his eyes, he was made of spun glass. If I left, he’d recover. He’d pick up his pieces like he did after the accident. But I wondered if I’d recover.

I’d come out to him, and that meant something to me. Oren was the one person I could be my whole authentic self with. I stood, and instead of my feet carrying me toward the exit, I went deeper into his apartment.

A new kind of fear bloomed in my chest. What might happen to my heart if I didn’t turn and leave? Oren already had my heart, but the question was did I stay and risk him breaking it or leave and break it myself?

The bathroom door opened, and I knew at that moment there’d never be any leaving for me. Not unless he made me go.

As suddenly as he’d bolted for the bathroom, he was in my arms. His body warm and solid and perfect against mine.

Kissing Oren made the world go fuzzy around the edges.

Our dicks pressed against each other, and I had the presence of mind, only just barely, to pull back and check in with him.

Being ready to kiss a man didn’t mean Oren was automatically ready for everything else that came with it.

“Yes?” My entire universe hinged on a single word. I’d meant to be more articulate, but all my thoughts were scattered, taking my words with them. And then came Oren’s response, an enthusiastic” Fuck, yes,” and I was breathing again.

And then we were kissing. Wild and frantic. I spun him and pinned him against the wall. And kissed him some more. Harder, with tongue. His hands mapped my body. Fingers dug into my back, my sides. Oren cupped my ass and pulled me in tighter, groaning into my mouth when our bodies meshed together.

His neck was a temptation I could no longer resist, and I broke away from his mouth and trailed kisses down his lightly stubbled jaw. The sounds that came out of Oren were sweeter than any symphony. One of his hands slid between us. Without hesitation, he cupped my dick through my pants.

I sucked in a breath and then playfully scraped my teeth against the flesh of his neck. Oren squeezed my cock in response, letting out a moan of his own when I did it again.

His touch wasn’t that of some mildly curious straight boy who wanted to see what it was like to touch a dick that wasn’t his. It was the touch of a curious new lover, exploring how to make the other person happy. Learning what they liked through trial and error.

“Is this okay?” His voice was weak and thready, hitching when my mouth moved against his skin.

“You can do whatever you want to me, Oren. If I don’t like something, I’ll stop you.”

He angled for another kiss, and I gave it to him. Softer this time. More controlled. I put my hands on his waist and let him run the show. His touch vanished for a second, and he pulled his shirt up, breaking the kiss to yank it over his head.

Oren was thinner than I’d imagined him to be, but no less perfect than he’d been in my mind.

Every part of him was clearly defined and well-constructed.

Broad shoulders, narrow hips. Dips behind his collarbones that would be perfect for kissing.

A hint of abdominal muscles. Pretty pink nipples with a dusting of hair on his chest.

His fingers fumbled with my pants until he got the button open and the fly down. His touch was more certain than I’d expected, but still gentle and exploratory. Still full of wonder as he learned what I liked.

Everything. I liked everything.

When was the last time I’d made out with a man? Let alone fully clothed. Oren’s hand snaked into my pants, and I groaned when his palm slid over the head of my cock. I was hard enough to hammer nails, and all it took for my cock to start leaking was Oren to pay it the smallest bit of attention.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he confessed, but he didn’t move away from me. His other arm wrapped around me, and his hand slid up and under my shirt. I stopped and pulled it off, nearly desperate to feel more of his skin against mine.

“I promise you’re doing just fine.”

“I want to do better than fine.” Oren pouted.

God, he was ridiculous. A little perfectionist probably. Couldn’t do anything by half measures. Had to give his all to everything he did. He’d probably study me like I was a test he needed to pass.

“Just do what feels good when it’s done to you.”

Oren laughed, brushing his thumb over the head of my cock. Precum leaked and was absorbed by my briefs. “I haven’t been touched in so long I’m shocked my dick didn’t turn to dust.”

“Did you want me to touch you, Oren?” I ground into him. Sliding a leg between his, I pressed my thigh into his dick and let him writhe against me.

“I’d do fucking anything for you to touch me.”

“Where’s your lube?”

Oren tilted his head toward a door. “In there. My bedroom.”

The last time I was with a guy, it had been a quick exchange of blowjobs in a less than sanitary bathroom at a gay club in the next town over. I’d gotten off, but it wasn’t satisfying. I wanted to be more than a means to an end for someone.

I wanted someone to look at me like I mattered. Like they wanted me for longer than an orgasm. Kind of like how Oren was looking at me now, eyes all hooded, his lower lip caged between his teeth.

Leaning in, I brushed my lips against his.

His body relaxed against mine, and I gathered him close again, wrapping my arms around him, deepening the kiss.

Our tongues tangled until I was short of breath.

The room spun when I pulled away. Oren’s fingers slid into my hair, making me shiver as he toyed with the short strands at the back of my neck.

He took initiative and towed me into his bedroom.

His room smelled of him, earthy and clean.

It was tidy, like the rest of his apartment.

A chair sat in the corner with a suit jacket and a tie draped over the back.

Polished black shoes were tucked underneath.

The laundry basket next to it sat overflowing.

The bed was unmade, and Oren flung the burgundy comforter onto the floor. A bottle of lube sat on the nightstand, and I tried not to obsess about the fact that it was identical to the one sitting on my nightstand at home.

Oren chuckled nervously. “I’m not sure what happens next. Is this where we have the whole who tops who conversation?”

I smirked at him. His lack of knowledge was both sobering and endearing.

“No one will be topping or bottoming today.” Stepping forward, I crowded into his space again. I kept going until he took a step back. His legs hit the mattress, and he sat down.

He stared up at me for a moment, blinking with those round, doe eyes of his. We were roughly the same age, but his lack of experience with men made him seem younger and far more innocent than I had any business being with. Oren moved, stretching out on the bed.

“Will.” A million questions were hidden in his voice, their existence given away by the slight tremor as he breathed out.

The only way I was stopping was if he asked me to.

Climbing onto the bed, I straddled him and planted my hands on either side of his head.

His hands skated up my thighs, and I watched the way his smile grew the more he touched me.

A breath puffed out of him when his hands slid up my chest. He paused at my neck and cradled it in both hands, his fingers twitching.

Then his hands slid upward, and he pulled me down to him.

I went willingly, sealing our mouths together. My tongue plunged into his mouth, and his tangled with mine. The grip he had on me tightened, and he writhed underneath me. The sounds he made had my cock leaking. Desperate, I ground against him.

“Oh, fuck,” Oren groaned. “How is that so good?” He laughed and kissed me again, a smile still on his lips as they met mine.

I had no answer for him, so I kissed him again.

And then we were both all hands as he shoved at my pants, and I fumbled with his fly.

After a hectic few seconds, he was half undressed, his pants down around his thighs.

I kicked my pants off the rest of the way.

Oren craned his head and reached for the lube, and I took advantage and mouthed his throat, his neck, below his ear.

“Holy fucking shit. You’re going to make me come and you haven’t even touched my dick yet.” There was a desperation in Oren’s laugh that gave away the truth of his words.

I stopped kissing him and sat up. Oren’s gaze raked over my body.

I felt it like a caress, trailing down from my lips to my chest, down the line of dark hair that led to my cock.

I squirted lube into my hand and then gripped us both at once.

Oren’s whole body reacted, his back arching like a bow string.

With my other hand, I pressed him down against the mattress again.

He tipped his head back, elongating his neck.

I slid my hand up his chest and suppressed the urge to hold his throat in the palm of my hand so I could feel his pulse flutter against my skin.

Instead, I cupped his cheek. Tipping his head down, he met my gaze for a brief moment, then I started to stroke.

“Fuck my life, that’s so hot.” Oren blinked and looked down where our dicks were pressed against each other in the tight channel of my fist.

Touching Oren was the hottest thing I’d ever done.

I loved the way he fit in my hand, against my cock.

The way he shook and laughed in joy and maybe a little disbelief.

I wanted to join him, but I didn’t have enough oxygen left over to use on a laugh.

Every bit of me was going into making him feel good.

He had an amazing dick. There was nothing painful about being average in this case. Average meant I could suck it down my throat and not die. I could take a dick like his ten times a day.

“Will—” He gripped my face and yanked me down to him.

He slanted his mouth against mine. Our tongues tangled.

Breath mingled. One of us moaned, and the other would answer, and then Oren was coming, using whatever he could as leverage so he could buck against me.

My name fell from his lips like it was a plea.

A prayer. Like he never wanted me to stop. Like he needed me to come too.

His cum made things slicker. Stickier. Hotter.

Better. And then I was coming, painting his stomach with my release.

Oren didn’t stop kissing me. Not even when I stopped kissing him back so I could breathe.

He kissed the corner of my mouth, my cheek, my jaw.

And when I could breathe again, he kissed me on the mouth, long and deep.

The lingering kiss of a man who regretted nothing.