Chapter Seven
Gavin
I had sex with a guy.
Not just any guy, of course. We’d mostly dozed the past few hours, and now it was after midnight.
I was stretched out on my back, and beside me on his belly, his leg hooked over mine, Charlie slept with lips parted, his cheek smushed into the pillow he held.
It was sweaty where our legs touched, but I wasn’t moving. No way, Jose.
We’d pulled the covers up, and with the soft, colored glow of the Christmas lights, it was like being in a cozy little oasis.
My Hanukkah candle guttered on the table, melted almost all the way down into the cheap glass holder.
At home, we’d have lit the shamash candle in the middle of the menorah, and the first candle on the right.
We never went to synagogue, but we still followed a few traditions, even if it was half assed.
I chuckled as I remembered my mom grumbling through Yom Kippur.
“Can’t we atone and still have our coffee? The ancient Jews didn’t have to sit through an HR presentation without caffeine. And the donuts were right in front of me! It was cruel. I don’t think the big boss upstairs minded that I had a Boston cream. It was another thing to atone for.”
“What?” Charlie mumbled.
“Nothing. Just thinking.”
He blinked sleepily. “About what?”
“Bunch of stuff.” I trailed the back of my hand over his arm. “You know, I always wished I could have a Christmas tree. I love the lights and everything.”
“Maybe it’s because I’m a heathen, but I don’t see why you can’t. It’s not like Santa and Rudolph and all that shit was in the Bible. It’s not a religious holiday for everyone. Santa is nondenominational.”
I chuckled. “That’s true.” It was on the tip of my tongue to say that next year we could have a menorah and a tree, but luckily I stopped myself.
Because whoa, that was crazy, thinking about next year as if we were some couple, and as if we’d be living together or something.
I was getting epically ahead of myself. I’d only just had gay sex for the first time.
Wow. It hit me again—I’d actually had sex with a guy.
Charlie rubbed his leg over mine. “Tell me.”
“I feel like—” I broke off. It was too dumb to say out loud. But Charlie just waited, watching me patiently, so I spit it out. “I feel like I lost my virginity, and I should get some official recognition that I’m gay. Like a membership card or something.”
“It’ll be in the mail. Might take a few extra days to process, what with the holidays.”
I nodded. “Oh, good to know. Is it laminated and everything?”
“Yep. You’ll need it to get into clubs and stuff. Make sure you don’t lose it. The American Association of Queers doesn’t like issuing cards twice. They’ll charge you a replacement fee.”
“It’s only fair.”
We smiled, and Charlie rubbed his palm over my chest, still splayed on his stomach. “But you weren’t a virgin, right?”
“No. With Candace, I…we only did it a few times. We waited a long time, which was fine with me, of course. I left it all up to her. But I guess I was a gay virgin, which isn’t even really a thing.”
“Sure it is.” He plucked gently at my chest hair. “Why didn’t you go cruising in San Fran? Man, when you went to the Castro to buy that dildo, you could have found dozens of guys to plug you.”
Didn’t want dozens of guys. Just you.
“I was nervous. With Candace, I wasn’t intimidated. I knew her so well, and it was awkward and kind of weird, but it didn’t scare me. Being with some guy I didn’t know was just…I guess I wasn’t ready. I was afraid I’d do it all wrong. So I bought the toy and figured I’d practice.”
“Practice clearly makes perfect.” He tweaked my nipple, sending a ripple of pleasure through me.
“Yeah?” I knew I was blushing. “Um, thanks. You too.” Although I didn’t want to think about how many guys Charlie had practiced with.
It was totally unfair, but jealousy simmered in my gut.
“I went to the Castro a few times to walk around, and I wondered if I’d see you there.
” I scoffed. “As if all gay people in San Fran just hang out constantly in the Castro, right?”
Charlie watched me carefully, his hand still, resting on my sternum. “But you hated me.”
“Well, I did, but I didn’t really. I was angry with you after the pizzeria incident. It was…it made it all easier if I let myself pretend that you were an asshole and none of it was my fault. But you were always the one I thought about when I jerked off. God, I still wanted you.”
He seemed to take this in while drawing little circles on my skin with his thumb. “Really?”
“I tried so hard not to. When Mrs. Papadakis from down the street told me you were going to San Fran too, I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t know what to think. I was mad at you, but after what I did in ninth grade…” My throat was dry. “I’m so sorry.”
“I know. It sucked, but it’s done now. Who knows what would have happened if you’d waited for me on the first day of school. Maybe we would have gotten together and crashed and burned by Halloween.”
I thought back to that day, and how early I’d gotten showered and dressed so I could walk the half mile to school alone. “You still wanted to go with me, even after the party? When I threw rocks at your window that night, you didn’t answer.”
Sighing, he closed his eyes. “By Tuesday, I’d decided it was okay. If you were straight, at least we could still be friends. That was the most important thing.”
Ugh. The guilt razored through me, and I picked up his hand and kissed his palm, not having a clue what to say.
“I knocked on your door, and your mom answered. Said you’d left already.
I felt like puking all over her rosebushes, but I still thought I’d be able to find you at school, and we’d pretend it had never happened.
The whole way there, I rehearsed what I’d say to you, and how casual and cool I’d be.
But then when you walked right by me in the hall like I didn’t even exist… ”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’d give anything to change it.” I inched closer and kissed his shoulder.
He opened his eyes. “I’m sorry too. We can’t change the shit we did.” He kissed me tenderly, only a brush of lips. We breathed each other in, pressing our foreheads together wordlessly.
When Charlie pulled back, he kissed the tip of my nose. “Let’s get back to you fantasizing about me while jerking off. This needs further exploration.”
I laughed, the pressure in my chest relieving. “I’m sure you can connect the dots.”
“I do have a vivid imagination, but I want details, Bloomberg. Spill.”
“Well, I’d watch a video or think about some hot actor. But in the end, it was always you, or else I couldn’t…”
Charlie pressed closer against my side, propping his head on his hand. His dick brushed my hip. “You couldn’t get off unless you imagined me?”
If I hadn’t been blushing before, I sure was now. But it was the truth, so I nodded and looked away.
Running his hand up my chest, Charlie tipped my head toward him with a finger on my chin.
I wasn’t sure what to expect, but he wasn’t laughing at me.
His eyes were dark, and he leaned down and kissed me, licking into my mouth.
When he pulled back, he traced his hand down my body again, this time circling it around my cock, which woke up in a hurry.
“What did you think about?”
“You know…stuff.” My breath stuttered as he played with the head of my dick.
“Hmm, stuff.” He smiled wickedly. “You’ll have to be more specific.” He nudged my legs farther apart and reached down to skim his fingertip over my hole. “Did you think about my cock in your ass?”
“Uh-huh.” It was tender, but I loved the sensation of his finger teasing me. I blurted, “When I watched porn, I’d think about you in all the positions.”
“Yeah?” He rubbed his thickening dick against my hip. “Sucking you? Fucking you? What about fucking me?”
I nodded so hard I almost banged my head on the bed frame.
Charlie licked his palm and stroked my cock again. “How did you have me? On my back? Side?”
“Sometimes. But usually…”
“On my stomach? Hmm, or maybe on my hands and knees?”
My cock jumped in his hand and I moaned.
Smiling slyly, he kissed me messily, all spit and tongue as he kept working my dick. “Doggy style, with you behind me? You’re bigger, so you could really take me. Ram your cock into me. Give it to me until I screamed your name.”
I grabbed his head, pulling on his hair to yank him into a kiss while I thrust into the grip of his hand. “Yes,” I moaned.
Charlie tore himself away, but he was back in a second, tossing the condoms at me before turning onto his hands and knees. “Do it. Fuck, please.” He squeezed lube onto his fingers and reached back to his ass.
I dropped the condom packet three times before I was able to rip it open and roll it over my cock.
I watched him grease his hole, shoving his fingers inside, and had to squeeze the base of my shaft to get in control.
Crawling behind him, I took hold of his wrist, easing his fingers out and going up on my knees.
The sheet was bunched under me and I pulled it free.
His hole glistened, and I spread his ass open. I probably would have stared at it for an hour if he’d let me, but he jerked his butt back.
“Come on, Gavin. Fuck me the way you’ve always wanted to.”
It took two tries to get my cock inside him, the head shoving against his ring of tight muscle. I didn’t want to hurt him, and I pushed experimentally. No movement. I tried again, and Charlie groaned.
“Dude, ram it in there. I won’t break. I promise. It’s okay if it hurts. It’s part of it.”
He was right, of course—the burn had made the pleasure all the more intense when I’d impaled myself on his cock.
Gripping his hips, I thrust into him, stretching his tight hole around me as I inched inside.
With another shove, I went all the way, my hips slamming into his ass.
We both cried out, and I hoped our neighbors weren’t light sleepers.