Authors: G.B. Lindsey
“It’s okay,” he managed. “It’s—”
Will went rigid, and something cold slid into the air. Calvin nosed his cheek, desperate to reverse the damage. “Will, no, it’s okay.”
Will’s head tucked close to Calvin’s neck. And then he pulled away. Calvin reached after him, but Will only leaned back far enough to meet his eyes. His mouth was kiss-flushed. He skirted Calvin’s face and Calvin was so very aware of the way they pressed together, the way his weight was mostly supported by Will. The incredible
heat.
He was so hard he hurt. Will was hard, too.
Will touched the skin right in front of his ear and kissed him again. Slow this time, thorough like they used to, breath huffing through noses and tongues swiping, mouths opening in a rhythm Calvin could feel to the center of his bones, everything recognizable, but still not that Will anymore, something older and sharper in it now. Scarred over, then tucked away where the wound could only ever strike inward. Calvin couldn’t help the sad little sound he made.
“Cal, have you—”
“No.” He hitched closer until Will’s breath burst over his lips. They thrust together unevenly, Calvin just barely hanging on to his senses, and again Will forced a stop. He stood, breathing hard, with his fingers hooked tightly at Calvin’s belt. Calvin ran his thumb through the hair over Will’s forehead. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever stop shaking.
“I’m fine.” Barely words, Will was so close. Calvin needed it clear this time, indisputable. “I want to be with you.” The heat clogged his throat. “If you want this?”
Will pushed back into the kiss so fast he almost swallowed Calvin’s words, lifted him against the wall until his shirt scrunched at his shoulders. Calvin squeezed Will’s hips between his thighs, pulled at the collar of Will’s shirt, despaired over the lack of buttons.
“Off, take it—” He grabbed for the hem, thinking of that stomach and all those freckles, and couldn’t get the shirt up because of the way their chests pressed together. He broke off just as Will canted his hips again. Calvin reeled with graying euphoria. And Will paused—how could he keep doing that? He planted his lips on the underside of Calvin’s chin and gave him such a tender, needful buss that swallowing stung.
Calvin pushed them apart with trembling hands, Will’s exhalation replacing the pressure of his mouth, and finally got Will’s shirt off. He studied the spray of freckles, splayed his palm over the densest of them, then pressed his lips between thumb and forefinger, right over the ridge of Will’s collarbone. Will’s chest jumped beneath his mouth, but Will himself remained silent.
Calvin dropped the shirt to the floor, dragged his own over his head, and Will let out a provoked grunt. Calvin schooled his face and tilted his head in the direction of the bed. Hooked his fingers again through the braided thong round Will’s wrist.
Will was reticent, but he let himself be led across the room. Calvin reached for his belt buckle and undid the button on his fly. Clumsy, hard to get his hands to work right. He could barely make out Will’s face in the darkness, and he let go to fumble with the lamp. Finally he managed to get the light on.
Will looked so vulnerable. His eyes were wide, as jagged as glass. One of them needed to be calm; knowing that made the anxiety fade. Will kissed him again, again, until the kisses bled together and their breathing beat in counterpoint. Calvin slid both hands into Will’s jeans, baring inches of pale skin, catching on the briefs Will wore and pulling them down, too. Sensation speared like shards. He had to stop moving when Will tugged him closer. Calvin spun under the intensity of Will’s kisses. Physical,
all
physical, knowledgeable, firm, a little alarming.
Distraction. He needed... He shoved Will’s jeans lower, felt it when Will at last had his way with the buttons on his own pants. The bite of cool air was immediately swallowed by Will’s body heat. His fingers skirted up Calvin’s sides so fast they burned, then dropped back down, repeated. It was as if Will couldn’t cement it in his mind, had to keep reacquainting himself. Calvin shivered and slumped down to sit on the bed.
The way Will kneed up onto the mattress over him, legs either side of his, all that skin and warmth... The continuous touch of Will’s lips was so much more uncertain than the rest, and just
curious.
A slew of chaste kisses over the cleft in Calvin’s chin, the end of his nose, the rise of his jaw.
His lips. There, they stayed, fell to, ventured deep and plied the breath out of him.
“Cal,” Will whispered, a question and a sigh.
Calvin shimmied out of his pants, not letting himself think about it too hard. He’d thought about this long enough, for years, more intently than ever for the past few weeks, and he didn’t want to think it through anymore. Will rose onto hands and knees over him. His jeans hung off the spurs of his pelvis. A single nudge and they’d fall. Calvin curled his fingers around the waistband. Freckles dotted all the way down Will’s flank, and Calvin traced after them until Will sucked his stomach in at the touch.
“Here...” Calvin’s voice died.
Somehow Will understood. He stood up just long enough to step out of his jeans, and when he knelt again, he did it cautiously, his eyes traveling over Calvin’s face.
They reached together, and Will faltered, hovering above his cheek. Calvin pressed his palm to Will’s chest and slid down to his stomach. He could feel the heave of breath, the catch as Will attempted to normalize it.
Something hazy cleared from Will’s eyes and he leaned closer. Calvin thought he was going to kiss him again, but Will dropped to the side instead and rolled onto his back. One of his arms curled just over Calvin’s ribs. Fingertips pressed into the small of his back, the slightest of nudges forward.
Calvin continued not to think, just sat up and swung his leg over Will’s hips. Will’s body arched. His hand fell to Calvin’s hip and lifted completely away.
He looked so damned good, spread out pale and lean against the blue of Calvin’s quilt. His mouth was especially red. He made a fragile sound in his throat when Calvin settled fully over him, anchoring him to the bed. The curiosity of before dug deeper. Beyond the apprehension was the need to know what he could do with someone else’s body, with sensations that weren’t his. What would be the same about Will’s reactions? What would be entirely different?
Just like that, Calvin knew what he wanted.
He fumbled under the mattress, searching until he found what he needed. Will’s eyes caught on the tube in his hand. He was obviously trying to speak, but Calvin kept going, twisting the cap off and squeezing liquid into his palm. He rubbed his fingers together, watching the tip of Will’s tongue as it passed rapidly over his lip.
It couldn’t be that much different, doing this with someone else. But he knew damn well that it would be. Instead of fear, he felt the headiness again, the expectation. When he moved off of Will, Will’s hand darted to catch him, but sank back without touching. The vulnerability was arresting, a trait he’d never seen in Will before, not even when they’d spent their weeks in and out of each other’s homes, confiding the reality of dire hurts into each other’s ears. Calvin nudged Will’s leg up, and Will cleared his throat.
Calvin had expected some kind of recoiling at this part, a remnant of old discomfort, but Will’s naked body was the opposite of repellant. There was absolutely no end to his freckles. They went everywhere, even into the creases where thigh met hip and beneath the hair trailing low on his belly. Around and down further, enunciating the fairness of his skin where he was usually covered. Calvin trailed his fingertips over Will’s stomach, watched gooseflesh shiver to life, the lube leaving his skin shiny and reflective as water.
Will watched him.
When he got to where he was aiming, Calvin hesitated. More sensible to take hold of him, probably, but... It wouldn’t do, not tonight. His own interest in this particular activity flooded up, so strong he swayed. Calvin wet his lips. He maneuvered the sprawl of Will’s leg wider and eased his fingers slowly into fierce heat.
Will’s body heaved upward. His fingers dug into Calvin’s arm. Calvin swept his other hand down Will’s thigh, wanting to touch it all, feel every single twitch. He nosed Will’s knee.
“Done this before?” Will asked weakly.
Calvin shook his head. “Just to myself.”
“More than once.”
Calvin grinned, relieved. He leaned over, stretched his fingers as far as he could, and Will tightened up as if he’d been shocked, elongating across the blankets. His hand locked around Calvin’s wrist, clenching and loosening in little pulses as he adjusted.
God, each reaction... Subtle, the ripples of muscle as Will tried to get himself in order. Sweat gleamed across his clavicle. Calvin had the urge to trap that sheen under his tongue. Instead he bent down to kiss the spots that he remembered as most tender on his own body. Salt flickered over his tongue and Will curled in on himself with a moan, back bowing. Calvin’s weight kept him in place.
Will’s body was so hot inside.
“This enough?” he wondered aloud. It usually wasn’t for him. Will shrugged a foot higher around Calvin’s thigh and curled him closer.
“Oh God, you have no idea.” The words sped out. Calvin crooked his fingers carefully and Will arched up like he’d been shoved from below. But that wasn’t it, wasn’t quite enough. He flattened atop Will’s body, tongued Will’s mouth open and panting, deep until the kiss was hot as fever. He wondered if he could manage to do it all at the same time. Will’s thighs locked painfully around him, the muscles taut against Calvin’s arm where it was trapped between their bodies. It was frustratingly hard to coordinate, his arousal far more distracting with someone else there to feed it. Everything he recognized was amplified, almost too much. Calvin got a third finger inside, then the tip of a fourth, and Will—
Shit, he made such beautiful sounds.
“Oh, fuck, Cal.” The consonants slumped into each other. Calvin worked his free arm under Will’s shoulder and hauled him close, savored the sweat from Will’s lips. He barely knew what he was doing anymore, just the humid tension around his right hand, and then Will’s breathing snapped up double speed. He arched half out of the kiss and came, brazenly hard.
Calvin kissed him through it, tasting the moan as Will shuddered back down to the mattress.
It was nearly unbearable, how much Calvin wanted to come, bottling up in the center of him and pressing ferociously on his insides. He crawled up Will’s body, on the verge of an embarrassing whine, and got a leg back over Will’s thigh before he just couldn’t wait anymore. He sat up and took himself in hand. The first stroke felt so fantastic it didn’t matter that it wasn’t with his usual finesse. He could come at the barest thought. He leaned back, shut his eyes. Forced them open again.
Will stared up at him, at the length of his body. He gripped the hook of Calvin’s hip. His other leg lay bent around Calvin’s knee. He was sweaty and shattered and heaving, and Calvin felt the knowledge cinching at the backs of his thighs. It spiked and he gasped. Will struggled onto one elbow, his hand racing up Calvin’s side, forcing Calvin’s hips forward against his in one juddery
pull
—and Calvin came so hard he couldn’t draw his next breath, just hung there in the void as his body racked itself and his legs cramped and everything fired at once.
When he sagged, Will caught him, eased him down. Calvin’s muscles gave out completely. Even kissing Will became too difficult. The best he could manage was pressing his lips to Will’s cheek. He had to think about breathing.
The squeeze of Will’s hand at his side forced through the numbness.
“O—” Will’s voice broke. He cupped Calvin’s face. “You okay?”
Calvin managed a shapeless sound, the escape of something substantial. But Will’s grip firmed, urging him away, and Calvin began nodding, anything, just needing to not be held off. Finally Will gave in, taking the formless kiss Calvin offered. He slumped loose against the bed, and Calvin curled down atop him, licking into his mouth, relearning the shape of his teeth. His lips. The way his hand trembled against Calvin’s cheek and the way his fingers dug up into Calvin’s hair like they remembered being there. When Calvin pressed even closer, Will bucked weakly and let out a pained groan, his legs rising up either side of Calvin’s hips before dropping back.
“Sorry,” Calvin whispered, but Will shook his head and changed the kiss into one that Calvin had never had a chance to give.
This was a mouth that had kissed before, kissed other people. It hurt, even though the injury was illogical. He had no claim on Will’s years between high school and now. Hell, he hadn’t wanted claim and Will hadn’t wanted to be claimed anymore, not by him. And yet now he was touching down inside Calvin in a way that shook him utterly. Calvin was suddenly in mind of where his fingers had just been, the way Will’s body had quaked beneath his, at its core.
It felt right. Skin and heat. A circle closing.
It was a few minutes before he caught his breath. Will huffed shallowly against his skin. His eyes were mostly closed, lashes drooping low. He kissed Calvin again and again, absent brushes to Calvin’s lip, chin, the corner of his mouth. Will kissed him like he couldn’t think past him, caught in an endless loop, and the gut-deep heat was overwhelming.
The sound of Will swallowing was so banal that Calvin rose up to see it. He licked his lips, aware of how tightly the two of them were still twined together.
Will’s eyes, wide open now, came to rest on his mouth. “Wanted you so badly
.
When you opened that door.”
He sounded far sadder than he should have. Calvin couldn’t recall saying anything that would have done this kind of damage. He found an expression on Will’s face that he had no idea how to banish.
“Will.” Nothing else came out. Will just looked at him, tracking his features again and again. Finally Will heaved a sigh and pressed a hand over his face, the same hand that had skated so desperately over Calvin’s body moments ago.
“I am so sorry.” He dropped his hand and gazed at Calvin, suddenly and inexplicably old. “For pushing you.”