by Lina Langley
It doesn’t look like they have, so I get up and start walking. It’s a nice night and the walk doesn’t seem like it takes that long. It’s scenic, too, with blinking lights all around the bridge.
I’m surprised when I get to his place, because it seems like I’ve managed to retain his address in my memory far better than I thought I had. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to find it in between all the dirt roads, but his house is very unique and it’s hard to miss.
I smile as I walk up to his door. It suddenly occurs to me that he might have guests or not be at home, but I figure I can just wait until he comes back—or until his guests go away. I knock on the door and put my head on it, suddenly aware of just how tired I am.
When he doesn’t answer immediately, I realize that this might not have been the brightest idea I’ve ever had, especially because there are no footsteps coming my way. Shit, I’m such an idiot. I should have listened to Cyrus, or at least attempted to call Lawrence before I came.
I’m too tired to go back home and this place is weird and scary in the dark, so I sit down on the swinging chair in Lawrence’s porch and tell myself I only need to wait for him. I close my eyes for a minute, but then open them straightaway when I hear the door being opened.
Lawrence looks like he was in bed, with his hair all disheveled and his clothes all wrinkles. He’s wearing a light short-sleeved shirt that shows off his arms and checkered pajama pants. “Alejandro,” he says, obviously trying not to sound too surprised. "Are you okay?”
I nod. “I’m okay,” I say. “I needed to… fuck, sorry, I should have called, but Cyrus took away my phone and now—”
Lawrence approaches me. While he’s walking toward me, the light on the porch turns on, and I can see his face. “Are you drunk?” he asks quietly.
“I’m not sober,” I reply, looking away from him. My cheeks are red.
“Right,” he says. “How did you get here?”
“Walked,” I reply.
Lawrence shakes his head as he bites down on his lip. I can’t be sure, but I think he’s trying to fight back a smile. “Let me drive you home, Alejandro.”
“No,” I say, standing up. “No, don’t drive me home. I came here, I needed, fuck, I needed to talk to you, so I decided to come here. Sorry I keep swearing, shit, okay, sorry.”
I can hear myself, but it’s like I can’t stop the words coming out of my mouth.
“It’s okay,” he says. “You can swear around me, Alejandro. I’m an adult.”
“Okay,” I reply. “I just… look, I need to talk to you.”
“I know,” he replies. He sits down next to me and exhales. “I’ll give you ten minutes. How does that sound?”
“Bullshit,” I reply. “Sounds like crap.”
This time, he laughs, throwing his head back. Then his expression schools, little lines appearing around his eyes. He’s so beautiful like this, when he’s backlit by the porch light, the blue in his eyes deeper and darker than ever.
I look him up and down. “I don’t want to talk,” I say.
He tils his head slightly. “Okay.”
“I know what I just said,” I continue. “But I don’t want to talk. I know exactly what I want to do now, Lawrence.”
“What do you mean?”
I swallow, then put my head on his shoulder. I know it’s a bold move, I know it’s a little much, but fuck it. I don’t want to stop myself from doing anything I want to do anymore and this is what I want to do. “I’m going to seminary,” I say. “But before I go, my friends are always telling me to live my life.”
He doesn’t move away from me. “Good,” he says, his voice quiet and harsh. “I’m glad you’ve figured out what you’re doing.”
I move away from him, my eyes wide. “But I figured it out,” I say. “I figured out how to live my life before I go.”
“Okay…”
“With you,” I say, a smile on my face. He’s watching me, his eyes wide. I try to close the space between us to kiss him and our mouths are millimeters away from each other when he moves his face to the side.
“Alejandro…”
“I’m not a student anymore,” I say, aware that my voice is a whine and totally hating it. “It wouldn’t be an ethical violation to let me sit on your lap, you know.”
He turns around. For the first time since I got here, he reaches out and traces the outline of my face. “Why must you make this so hard for me?”
I lick my lips and look him up and down, wiggling my eyebrows when our gaze meets. “I’m hard too.”
He laughs. “No,” he says. “We’re not doing that. Come in and sleep it off, or I can drive you home.”
“Those both sound like terrible choices,” I say as I narrow my eyes at him, then tilt my head a little. “Wait. Can I sleep it off in your bed?”
“Sure,” he says after a little while.
I smile at him and practically jump up when he gets off the swinging chair. I follow him into his apartment and then into his bedroom. I start to take my shirt off, turn around, and try to beckon him toward me, but he’s not there anymore.
He’s gone, and he has closed the door behind him.
I think about going to get him for a second, but I know better. I’ve been defeated, and in any case, the bed looks comfortable as fuck, is unmade, and I’m sure it smells like him.
Maybe I can sleep it off after all.
CONTINUE
When I wake up, my head is throbbing. It takes me a little while to remember where I am, and when it sinks in that this is Lawrence’s bed that I’ve spent the night on, I feel like absolute shit. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking last night, all I know is that I made a huge fool of myself and I owe Lawrence a giant apology.
I chuckle a little as I remember that he told me I could sleep it off in his bed, but he never said anything about joining him. This is very much like him, and it’s extremely kind. In truth, I don’t know what to do with myself, because I know I’m going to have to face him the moment I leave his bedroom and that worries me.
I don’t know at what point in the night I managed to take off my clothes, but it feels like a lifetime ago. As I try to navigate Lawrence’s bedroom, which is bigger and sparser than mine, I realize that I must have thrown them all around me. The place is beautiful and light, and if it was any other time, I would take a moment to enjoy the beauty of it.
As things stand, all I really want to do is make sure that I can leave as soon as possible. Maybe I can sneak out again and try to make it back to my place, but the truth is I can’t face going outside by myself when it’s this sunny.
And maybe drunk me didn’t have the world’s worst plan. I do need to talk to Lawrence and at least clear the air between us before I go, because I would feel very badly if things ended poorly between us because I can’t keep my dick in my pants.
I should know better than this. I should be better than this. I put on my clothes as I look at his bed, which did smell like him, and steel myself to go out of his bedroom and beg for forgiveness. My clothes smell like sweat and beer and disappointment, but when I open the door, the smell that fills my nose is food.
Delicious, mouth-watering food. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I smell cheese, garlic and butter coming from the kitchen. I try to be quiet about walking toward him. It might just be my hangover, but my steps feel thunderous.
When I finally get there, he looks over his shoulder to smile at me. “Good morning,” he says. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
“’Sok,” I reply, my mouth dry. “I’m… I don’t even know where to start.”
“How about with some ibuprofen?” he says. He reaches into a cupboard above him and hands me a bottle of ibuprofen. “There’s coffee on the pot.”
I swallow, which is a struggle. “Thank you,” I say.
“Of course,” he replies and hands me a mug. I serve myself some coffee, tip the ibuprofen into my hand, and then swallow three pills all at once. Lawrence is wa
tching me while I do this, looking slightly more amused than I think he should.
“Thanks again,” I say. “For everything.”
“You’re welcome,” he replies. “I figured you’d want some food. It’ll help your head.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “I feel like such an idiot,” I say.
“It’s okay,” he replies. “I understand. Believe it or not, I was young once, too.”
“Yes, but I don’t think you were as young and stupid as I was last night,” I say into my cup of coffee.
“In different ways, I certainly was,” he replies. “And they were much riskier.”
I shake my head and swallow. I set my gaze on him. “You’re a good man,” I say. “And I’m sorry I keep pushing you. If you don’t want… since you don’t want anything to happen, I’ll stop. I’ll go away, and you’ll never hear from me again.”
He cocks his head. “You think I don’t want anything to happen?”
“No,” I reply and look up, my eyes filled with tears. “Yes. I don’t know what I think.”
“You do,” he says. He extends an arm out and strokes the outline of my cheek with the back of his finger. “You know it perfectly well. I just…”
“What?” I say, biting my lower lip.
He drops his hand to his side. “I am—was—in a position of power over you for so long, I don’t know if this is okay. I don’t know if it’s even okay to want you.”
I look at him. He’s so fucking beautiful, and every word feels like a stab in my heart. “It’s okay to want me,” I say, taking a step closer to him. “I want you to want me.”
I look up so that my face is close to his face. He doesn’t take a step back and he doesn’t move away from me. “It’s really natural for a student to develop feelings for their—”
I stop him by kissing him, pressing my lips softly against him, closing my eyes as I do so. I put my hands on his cheeks and move away from him. “Yes,” I say. “Natural. Is it natural for you to want me, then?”
“Alejandro,” he says. He’s putting his arm around my waist and holding me close to him. I can feel his erection through the fabric of his pajamas, and when he kisses me again, I don’t resist. I give myself to him completely, opening my mouth to let his expert tongue in. He moves his face away from me and groans.
“You want me,” I say, moving my hand from his face down to his chest, stopping on his chest, which is harder than I expected, and then his stomach. I move my hand down another few inches to find his erection and I touch it lightly over his clothes. “I can tell how much you want me.”
I watch his Adam’s apple work as he swallows. “You don’t understand the implications of all this,” he says.
“Yes, I do,” I reply as I slowly move the tips of my fingers so they are under his waistband. I’m touching his pubic hair and it’s making him groan, especially as I start moving my hand closer to his cock. “I’m not a student anymore. You won’t get in trouble.”
“It’s not just about me getting in trouble,” he says. He doesn’t stop me, though, he doesn’t move away and he doesn’t try to move away either. He just stands there as I kiss his neck and continue getting my hand closer and closer to his cock. He groans as I finally put my hand around his hardened cock, which seems impressive from where I am. I start jacking him off, slowly, as he keeps talking. He throws his head back.
“You don’t understand the power difference,” he says with a moan. “I know everything about you and you…”
“I do understand the power difference,” I say. “Do you know how many times I’ve thought about you pinning me down on your desk and fucking me until I scream? Do you know how many times I’ve thought about tasting your come in my mouth?”
He swallows as I get on my knees. When I look up at him, his eyes are glassy. “I don’t,” he says.
“I know you want to come on my face, Lawrence,” I say. I’ve no idea what’s gotten into me, but this seems to be working, he isn’t pulling away, and I want him to give in. He wants me. I need him to want me. “I know you want to make me all yours.”
I finally move his pants down his legs. My breath is sharp when I look at his cock, which is gorgeous, uncut, and so very, very hard.
“Do you want to feel my mouth on you?” I say, quietly, close to his dick.
He nods, then swallows. “Yes,” he says. “Yes, I want to feel your mouth around me.”
“Good,” I reply. I move closer to him to take him into my mouth. He’s too big for me to take all of him, but I can swirl my tongue around the sensitive head of his dick and play with his balls while I suck him off. He tastes like salt and precum and there’s nothing I’ve wanted to do more in my life than to get him off in my mouth.
I use my free hand to start touching myself, because I can’t stop myself, especially not when I see the way that he’s looking at me. His skin has reddened and he’s breathing fast. I speed up, feeling his cock throbbing inside my mouth, precum covering my tongue.
“Do you really want me to come on your face?”
I move away from his cock slowly. When I speak, our gaze is still locked. “Yes,” I say. “I need you to come on me.”
“Good,” he replies. “Open your mouth.”
I open my mouth and I’m ready to wrap it around his cock again, but he shakes his head. “No,” he says, biting his lower lip. “I want it all on your pretty face.”
I moan and watch him as he comes, focusing more on his face than his cock. He closes his eyes and opens his mouth as he groans, moving his hand up and down his hardened dick until he is coming all over my face. I can’t do anything, for some reason, I’ve stopped being able to move. I’ve stopped being able to do anything but take him, all of him, and when he’s finally done, he takes a deep breath in and extends his hand to get me to stand up.
When our faces are level—almost level, since he’s taller than me—he wipes my skin off with his hand. He traces my face with his thumb until it’s at my mouth, and there’s nothing I can do then but open it to let him in. He feeds me his come for a little while until I’m left gasping for breath. Then he kisses me on the mouth, a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, where our tongues meet and he can taste himself on me.
When he moves away, he’s gasping. “Were you touching yourself?”
I swallow. “Yes,” I say. “Before…”
He gets very close to me, to the point where he’s whispering in my ear. “I want you to come on my face,” he says. “And then I want you to lick it clean, until there’s not a drop left on me. Do you understand?”
I swallow again. Fuck, I’m ready to come just from him having said that, and I don’t think I’ve ever been this hard in my life. He pushes me a little so that I give him space when he drops to his knees in front of me.
He doesn’t touch me, not at all, but I can feel his breath on my skin, I can see how close he is to my cock. “Take off your pants,” he says.
I do as I’m told, except I don’t really take them off, I just slide them down to my knees and start jacking off again because there’s absolutely no way that I can wait any longer. “Alejandro,” he says, so fucking perfectly, just like he always does.
That’s enough to put me over the edge. I feel my orgasm everywhere, building from my core to the rest of my body, electricity exploding through my body as I come on Lawrence’s face. The amount of come is impressive and by the time I’m done, I have no idea how I’m still standing up, because it feels like every single one of my limbs is going to give out at any second now.
Lawrence stands up and manages to steady me in the process, putting his arm around my waist and pulling me closer to him. “Now lick it off,” he says. “All of it.”
I start to lick his face off. It tastes like salt and like me, and by the time I’m done, we’re both gasping for breath. He kisses me again this time, pushing his body against mine, but this is a softer, milder kiss, and when he moves away from me, he’s smiling.
I smile ba
ck at him. “I told you,” I say. “You wanted this.”
He nods, his eyes watery. “I did want it,” he says. “I wanted you.”
I panic a little when I see the worry in his eyes. “I wanted you too,” I say, grabbing his hand. “And there’s nothing wrong with that. Nothing at all.”
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Okay,” he says. “You should eat. Your food is going to get cold.”
I watch him. “You made me breakfast.”
“Yes,” he says, winking at me. “You need more than just protein.”
CONTINUE
Things seem okay while we’re eating breakfast. It doesn’t feel to me like they’re awkward, but I don’t know if I’m the best judge of that. I feel very happy in Lawrence’s presence so I could be missing even the most obvious of clues.
When he sees me searching his face, he smiles. “Are you worried?”
“Always,” I reply as I stuff my mouth with some more of his delicious homemade mushroom frittata.
He smiles and shakes his head. “No,” he says. “About what happened.”
“About… you?”
He nods. “Yes, Alejandro,” he says. “About me.”
I swallow. “Yes,” I say. “I’m worried.”
“Why?”
“Because I… I want to do this again,” I say. “And I don’t want you to hate me.”
He puts his hand on mine. “I could never hate you,” he says. “Not even if I wanted to.”
I shake my head. “You say that now,” I reply. “But honestly, I’m still feeling mortified about arriving at your door last night. I wish I hadn’t done that.”
He cocks his head and his green eyes glimmer. “I’m glad you did,” he says. “I’m glad what happened this morning happened.”
I feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. “Really?”
