by Damian Bloom
I came back right as he started going crazy over his writing. Or as he was entering “the flow state”, as he calls it. This meant an additional few days of being almost completely ignored. What worried me more was that he seemed to pay just as little attention to himself. So I stepped in and made sure his laundry was done, the house was clean, and Hector and he were fed. Which means I haven’t been doing much writing this past week. It was all made worth it by how grateful Adam seemed when he snapped out of his writing trance. He said no one has ever done anything this nice for him before, which I find a little sad.
I’ve been spending more time at Adam’s than I do at home, which hasn’t gone unobserved. Peter and the guys have got it into their head that Adam and I must be dating, and they keep nagging me about introducing my “prince” to them. Regardless of how many times I remind them Adam and I are only friends and writing buddies, the suspicious gleam in their eyes doesn’t vanish.
Almost having sex with Adam has made me question my feelings toward him and the future of our friendship. But more than anything, it’s made me keenly aware of the ever-present sexual energy smoldering right under Adam’s skin. I don’t know if he still thinks about that day, but it feels like he’s on edge. That’s the only way I can think to put it. Like a horny sailor counting the days until he reaches land.
I wonder if this means he’ll go back to sleeping around soon. The mere thought makes me shudder. I think he would tell me if he did, but I don’t know if I want him to.
The first drops of rain have already begun to fall when Adam comes out of his room, hair glistening wet. I’m happy to see he’s ditched the sportswear in favor of a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt.
It almost feels wrong for a writer to be this tall and muscular. With that body, I could picture Adam as an athlete or a biker in a seedy gang, not as someone who sits in a chair all day and exercises his fingers more than any other part of his body. Although he does deserve his body. I could never have the discipline to work out as much as he does or pay so much attention to my nutrition.
Adam sits back down at the table with a refilled glass of water. He gives me a one-over. “What?”
I stare back. “What?”
“What are you frowning like that for?”
After sliding the journal into my backpack, I rub a finger on the mousepad to bring my laptop back to life. “I think I got stuck.”
“You need some help?”
“Maybe.” The tips of my ears catch on fire. Will this be awkward to work with him on after the incident? “Actually, I don’t want to steal you away from your own writing.” I shake my head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure it out.”
Adam tilts his head and cocks an eyebrow. “Don’t be silly. You’re here for my help, aren’t you? Besides, I need a break from my story, and I miss our loverboys. Let me see.”
Reluctantly, I nod, then scooch closer to him to give him a better view of my computer.
His eyes dart over the last few lines I wrote. “So, what’s happening here?”
“They’re about to have sex.”
Adam gives me a look I don’t know how to interpret, then chuckles. “I see…”
“It’s the first sex scene.”
“So late?”
“I’m only halfway through the book.”
Like he could read the entire thing in seconds, Adam scrolls all the way up. “Didn’t we plan one or two more sex scenes up to this point?”
“They didn’t seem ready for that.” I nervously rap my fingers on the table. “I figured they’re better off taking it slow.”
Watching me from the corner of his eye, Adam smiles. “That’s what I meant about books being a living, changing thing.” He sounds proud of me. “It’s good that you’re not scared to adapt your plans to your characters’ needs.”
Scrolling back down to the scene at hand, he purses his lips. “I hope I won’t be totally useless. You know I’m not great at sex scenes either.”
“The one you sent to me that one time was pretty hot. Besides, you’ve got plenty of real-life experience.”
He leans toward me, cheek resting in his hand. “Are you calling me a manwhore, Luis?”
“I wasn’t, but if the shoe fits…”
Adam tsks. “You used to be such a polite young man…”
After rereading the last paragraph, he rests his elbows on the table and steeples his fingers. “So how far do you want them to go in this scene?”
“Uhm, all the way.”
His cocky smirk makes another appearance. “That can mean so many things—some of which I’m not even sure you’ve heard of. Can you please be more specific?”
Half-covering my mouth with my palm, I mumble something unintelligible even to my ears.
It makes Adam laugh. “How are you going to write it if you’re too shy to say it, Luis?”
I drop my hands to my lap and—back straight, chin raised proudly—I force myself to speak in as clear and steady a voice as I can muster. “Josh gives Finn a blowjob, and then they have anal.”
“There you go.” A shadow crosses Adam’s face. He types the information into the file for later reference. “Who’s the top? Do they switch?”
Lightning flashes, thunder rumbles, then raindrops splatter onto the house more viciously than before.
“I was thinking Finn would be the top.”
Peeling his distracted gaze from the window, Adam nods like I’ve said something wise. The rain is fierce, like a water curtain separating the house from the outside world.
Adam pinches his chin. “I don’t remember much about the characters, and I don’t really know what you’ve done with them so far, so you’re the leader.”
I nod, warmth spreading in my cheeks. “Okay.”
Adam scrolls a few lines up again, eyes darting over the words. “So, they’re at Josh’s birthday party if I understood correctly.”
“Right.”
“And Josh pulled Finn away to…”
“Confess his feelings for him.”
“Right.” Adam cracks his knuckles. “Confess his love?”
“Not really. Or, better said, he’s not yet aware that he’s in love with him. But he’s finally accepted that his feelings for Finn extend past friendship, and he wants to check if there’s any chance the feeling’s mutual.”
Adam’s fingers twitch over the keyboard for a moment like he’s about to start typing. Changing his mind, he shoves the laptop to me. “Sorry, it’s your book. You type.” He runs a hand over his head, pushing his hair back from his forehead. “So, what do you need the most help with? Descriptions? Dirty dialogue? Brainstorming sexual positions?
“Uhm, all of the above. I don’t even know where to start, really.”
“Okay, let’s see.” He stretches his back, increasing to even more intimidating proportions, and the soft fabric of his shirt sinks in the ridges of his muscles.
Leaning back in his chair, he closes his eyes. He reminds me of Grandma Hattie before she gets a vision. “Okay, so they go back to Josh’s bedroom. Let’s say they sit down on the bed, close to each other. The lights are dim, the party muffled in another part of the house.” Adam’s eyes glimmer when they meet mine. “How do you think they feel?”
I know the answer deep in the pit of my stomach. “I think Josh is really nervous. He wonders if he’s making a mistake.”
Adam’s eyes dig into the depths of my soul, and it’s so easy to lose myself in them. “What’s he so afraid of?”
“He values his friendship with Finn more than any other relationship in his life.” I subtly clear my throat. “He doesn’t want to lose his friend.”
In the short silence that follows, rain continues knocking on every corner of the house. Although it sounds as if nature itself is angry with us, in here, with Adam, I feel safe.
“Then what?” Adam asks.
As if I’ve slipped into my character’s skin, my hands jitter with nerves. “Josh lets Finn know there’s something
he needs to tell him.”
“Does Finn feel the same way at this point in the story?”
I nod.
“Maybe write all of this down?”
“Oh, right.” I shake my head, regaining awareness of my surroundings. I quickly summarize all of this.
Picking a pencil off the table, Adam taps it against the side of his face, his eyes gleaming as he stares into space. “What would Josh tell Finn?”
A lump forms in my throat. “That he wants him. It’s not a feeling that he understands because he’s never felt this way about anyone before.” Adam’s face cracks into a small smile, and it robs the breath from my chest. Shaking my head, I try to go on: “And that if Adam feels the same way, he thinks whatever they have is something worth exploring.”
Adam freezes, then squints at me. “Who?”
“Who what?”
“You said Adam.” Oh shit. “If Adam feels the same way.”
I frown. “No, I didn’t. I said Finn.”
Excited to tease me over it, he grins like a hunter whose prey has just fallen into a masterful trap. But then, he hesitates and changes his mind for some reason. Adam lowers his shoulders. “I must have misheard you.”
My heart thumps so desperately in my ears that I almost can’t make out his words.
Adam scratches his head. “But if Finn feels the same way, what’s stopping them from being together? Sorry, I don’t remember much from the outline.”
“Well, they’re not really right for each other yet.”
“Why not?”
“They might like each other, but they want entirely different things. Josh wants something serious, and Finn doesn’t do commitment.” As I explain their situation, I forget my embarrassment for a second. “They’re too blinded by their feelings for each other to see there’s trouble ahead.”
I get a whiff of Adam’s delicious shower gel when he leans in to peer into my eyes. “But what exactly are their feelings for each other? Do they know?”
“Like I said, they’re in love with each other. They just haven’t realized it yet.”
Seconds melt and stretch into the longest moments of my life as Adam and I lock eyes. It’s like a strong gust of wind snatches the veil between fiction and reality away. If I took my eyes away from Adam, I feel like I’d find Josh and Finn sitting at our table, as real and alive and captivated by each other as he and I. Their nerves are our nerves, their hitched breaths are the ones we struggle to take, their beating hearts drum in our chests. It’s like the characters live right under the surface of real life, and at this moment, I’m clairvoyant enough to become aware of their presence. Suddenly, they are as real to me as I know they are to each other—more real than life itself. Adam and I are Josh and Finn and everyone else who’s ever had their life so powerfully enchanted by another’s existence.
Grunting and blinking away from my gaze, Adam is the first to snap out of the moment. “Okay, so they own up to their attraction to each other. Now what?”
As if I’ve just woken up from a deep sleep, I struggle to find my words. “That’s what I need you to tell me.”
Adam smirks. “Okay, let’s see. Since Josh made the first move with his confession, Finn should make the next one and initiate the physical contact. Something subtle, maybe a hand on the knee.”
The keyboard click-clacks under my fingertips as I rush to add that to the document. “So, Finn lays a hand on Josh’s knee. In a playful way? Can Josh brush it off as a friendly gesture, or are his intentions clear?”
Adam’s lips press into a line as he thinks. “Like this,” he says, and his warm palm finds its way to my thigh, a little higher than the knee. Sparks flow down my back, and I shudder.
When I sneak a peek in his direction, my breath stops under his intense gaze. If looks could burn, his would scorch me.
Just like me, Adam must have dozens of reasons for not crossing the line we’ve been tiptoeing around for weeks, but how long can we teeter before we fall? And why do I want to fall so badly?
I wait, but Adam doesn’t remove his hand. “What happens next?” I ask.
His hand grows heavier. “Josh climbs onto his lap.” His gruff voice makes my hair stand on end. Mischief twinkles in his eye when he asks, “Do you need help visualizing that, too?”
He squeezes my leg. My stomach stings with frustrated desire. I’m tired of holding back, of being the good, patient boy who waits for whatever has been decided for him. Who never takes what he wants.
When I stand up from the table on shaky legs, a shade of surprise curtains Adam’s face. Asking myself for the hundredth time if I’m making a mistake, I waver. But it’s too late now. It’s been too late for a while.
Adam spreads his legs and opens his arms. Then, he grabs me by the waist and pulls me to him, helping me straddle him, our faces perfectly lined up.
“Like this?” I whisper.
“Like this.” He smells of shampoo and shower gel and…himself—the sweetest, most intoxicating smell of all.
“Finn runs his hands over Josh’s perfect ass,” he says, demonstrating on my body, “then presses a gentle kiss to Josh’s neck.” His lips graze my collar bone, and my whole body quivers against his. He wraps me tighter in his arms.
I run my fingers along his sharp jaw and the coarse brown hair covering it. I kiss it, kiss his cheeks, his jaw, his neck, his ear. Over and over again, I would kiss every inch of him.
Adam tenses up. “Finn’s worried he’ll hurt Josh,” he says.
Clutching his arms, I exhale a quivering breath. “Oh, Finn will break Josh’s heart. I don’t think Josh has any doubts about that.”
Adam’s body feels so right under my own. Since I first learned about sex, I’ve been saving my first time for the right person. And it’s been laughably easy, because, compared to the godlike figure of my imaginary soulmate, I could only ever see how flawed all the men I encountered were. Until Adam. His charm turns any Prince Charming I’m capable of dreaming up into a dull, one-dimensional caricature of a man.
My body burns for Adam. It vibrates with the need to belong to him. Right now, more than any time before, it’s clear to me how decidedly I want to have sex with him. I’m convinced he’s not perfect, but as his hands slip under my shirt and explore my uncharted body, I can’t think of a reason to want perfection when I could have him. If he’s not right for me, I’ve never wanted to make a mistake more than I do now.
Troubled by my words, Adam’s breathtaking eyes are tinged with sadness.
My lips brush against his. I run a hand through the damp hair on the back of his head. “But that won’t stop Josh from giving his heart to Finn anyway.”
17
Adam
Stiffer than it’s ever been, my cock feels like it’s going to explode as Luis grinds in my lap, kissing my neck. I grunt and growl, wishing he would never stop. I struggle to keep in mind this is his first time.
Suddenly, his head snaps back, and he fixes me with a hungry gaze. “Kiss me,” he pleads.
A thrill courses under my skin. His first kiss.
With a hand on the back of his head, I pull his face to mine. I claim his lips into a breathtaking kiss, and he moans. I feel him melt in my arms.
His full lips part slightly, and my tongue crosses them, exploring the sweetness beyond.
The rain drowns out all sounds other than our groans and whimpers. It hasn’t rained like this all year.
Luis’s tongue is shy and uncertain, following my lead. Eventually, his mouth submits to mine, lets itself be invaded and explored and taken.
I squeeze his ass in my hands. I’m trying to take it slow, I’m trying to be gentle, I swear. But there’s an animal inside of me that’s biting at its leash. It wants nothing more than to pin Luis to the ground and have his way with him until it leaves him a wet, whimpering mess.
When Luis gnaws on my lower lip, I let out a breath and grin. “Careful, boy. I don’t think I can hold back much more if you do that.”
He pulls his confused face away from mine. “Hold back?”
“Oh, Luis, if you only knew the things I’ve been dying to do to you…”
His eyes twinkle, bright as a dare. “Do them.”
“It’s your first time.”
“I don’t care. Don’t handle me with kid gloves. All the things you want to do to me, I want them as well.” Luis kisses my chin again, slips a hand between his legs, to my crotch, which he squeezes, feeling my erection. “I want to feel you all over me,” he says. “Inside me. I want to be under your control, to be used and taken by you, however you want me.”
My boxers feel damp with precum. I know it must be oozing like crazy.
“I want to please you, Adam,” he whispers. “Please don’t hold back.”
I’d need superhuman strength to stay indifferent to these words. If I had either hand free, I would pinch myself to check that this isn’t a fantasy. But my hands are full with Luis’s ass, the ass I’m dying to bury my cock in.
A low growl travels through the room, and I realize it’s coming from me. We’re past the point of no return now.
I dig a hand in Luis’s hair, tug back, exposing his neck, which I lay a dozen famished kisses on. My body vibrates with his moans.
Suddenly, we’re on the floor, and I’m pinning Luis down with my weight, my tongue filling up his mouth. His legs are wrapped around my waist, and I’m bucking my hips, rubbing against him again and again.
Luis slips a hand between us and unbuttons my jeans with one move. I study his face, curious where he wants this to go next.
His wide eyes dart from my face to my crotch. It’s a pleading gaze, but I want him to tell me exactly what he wants. I want him to own his desires. “I want to suck it.” It’s a shy whisper that makes me smirk. His innocence is inebriating, and I want to squeeze it in the palm of my hand, crumple it, leave my mark. I want Luis to always remember I was here.
I shove my boxers down until the head of my cock pokes free and Luis feels the warm flesh on his hand. But I keep him under me, sensing his yearning swell up. I want him on the verge of explosion, where I’ve been so often since I met him.
