Jordan
We’re keeping it simple, and it’s surprisingly easy to do that. I expected there to be some kind of awkwardness for a while, but there’s been none of that.
Mostly we’ve been hanging out as usual, except now there’s the fact that whenever we get a rare moment when it’s just the two of us, it inevitably ends up with our gazes clashing and then us on top of each other on the nearest flat surface.
He makes it feel easy, and I gradually stop overthinking because we’re still just us. Now we’re just the kind of us where we also happen to make out like teenagers whenever we can.
It’s the kind of easy, sexy, exciting, low-maintenance sort-of-relationship that I’ve never experienced before.
He’s my best friend.
A best friend I desperately want to kiss.
I stop trying to dissect things and come up with a name for what we’re doing.
What’s the point? I don’t need to slap a label on what we’re doing, and he’s even less interested in that than I am.
The only reason we’d need to define the relationship would be other people, I suppose, but we’re keeping this thing between us.
It’s new, unexplored territory, and I don’t feel the need to invite anybody to visit.
I want to keep it to myself, learn all the quirks and pitfalls and magical views of my new surroundings first before I let anybody else in here.
The buzzer lets out a quick, vibrating beep, and I pull the door open. The elevator hums, and I watch the floor numbers change excruciatingly slowly. My fingers thrum against my thigh. My heartbeat thrums in my ears.
The elevator finally stops, and I’m out before the doors are even fully open.
Milán is standing just outside his door, his eyes moving up and down me hungrily as I approach, and whatever remnants of reasonable intentions there might have been in the first place, if at all, get overshadowed by need.
I walk straight into him, back him against the wall, and kiss him. His fingers dig into my waist, his mouth answering with the same kind of ferocious need that’s coursing through me.
“Your apartment is too high. Took me forever to get here,” I murmur against his mouth.
“I’ll move,” he says as we stumble inside and he slams the door shut behind me.
We never break the kiss as we move through the apartment.
I don’t pay any attention to where I’m going, just follow his lead until he pushes me into a room and shuts the door behind us.
I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer.
We crash onto the bed in a mess of limbs, lips still fused together.
His cock is hard against mine. I kiss him everywhere I can reach. Lips, underside of his jaw, neck.
“How much time do we have?” he pants.
“An hour.” I answer just as breathlessly.
I ran here straight from work and have to be home soon. I shove my hands under his T-shirt and slide them up his back, pulling him closer.
My palm covers the side of his jaw. He bites down on my lower lip, and I moan into his mouth when our tongues tangle.
We make out with the harried desperation of two teenagers. His hands are everywhere, sliding up my sides, underneath my shirt, up my chest. Fingers tweak my nipple, and I shiver, gasping out his name.
My thighs wrap around his waist. My hips grind into his.
His fingers grip my thigh.
It’s wild and fast.
And then he slows it down.
Kisses become lazier. Slower.
Bodies and hearts settle.
Frenzied passion is replaced by something gentler. He leans his forehead against mine and pants, muscles tightening.
And it makes something impossibly soft unfurl in my chest. I kiss the pounding pulse point on his neck, and he shudders. His cock jerks against my lower abdomen, but he doesn’t make a move to push things any further than this frantic make-out session.
“Hi,” I murmur softly with my lips against his cheek.
His body shakes as he chuckles softly. He lifts his head.
“Hi,” he says, laughter in his eyes. His fingers slide through my hair and cup my cheek. I lean into the touch.
“Tell me about your day.” I turn my head and kiss his palm.
He sucks in a breath, and there’s that flutter inside my chest that’s become a regular thing by now.
He lies down on top of me, head on the pillow next to mine, all bright blue eyes and five o’clock shadow, lips red and swollen from kissing.
His fingertips settle on my neck, caressing softly, and I just feel so comfortable and content that I never want to move again.
His voice lulls me into a sense of peace.
It’s just the two of us. Two ordinary people in their ordinary lives that somehow feel extraordinary now.
He lets out a satisfied hum, and my chest jolts.
I breathe slowly. The air feels hot in my throat. I’m surrounded by Milán everywhere, and I’m comfortable like I’ve never been before. Calm. Settled.
I didn’t expect it to feel like this. Being so close to him. I didn’t expect it to feel so natural, but it does. Somehow, our bodies fit together perfectly. Minds click. Thoughts settle. Feelings match.
There’s no effort required. No pressure to be anything we’re not. Because he wants me just the way I am. Likes me just the way I am. And I want him just the way he is. Like him just the way he is.
“Don’t go yet,” he groans when I force myself to look at my watch.
“I have to,” I say.
He wraps himself around me. “One more minute,” he murmurs into my neck.
I grin at the ceiling, powerless to resist because I fit so well here with him. I fit effortlessly, easily.
And I think he would wear a smile and make room for me and all the people and baggage that comes with me, and they’d all fit seamlessly, too. If I asked him. Which I won’t because it’s way too soon for thoughts like these, so I won’t think them just yet, but the acknowledgment remains.
I kiss the tip of his nose and roll myself off the bed.
“One more minute,” he says again and grabs my wrist, pressing a kiss to the inside, tongue flicking over the pulse point. I shiver with pleasure.
“You’re playing dirty. I have to go,” I say with a laugh. Right now I don’t remember why. I’m halfway persuaded to stay already.
“Rory will be home soon.”
I don’t relish sneaking around like this, but we both agreed it’s a necessity for now. This is all too new and uncertain to show the world yet.
He gets up and comes and wraps his arms around me from behind, kissing the side of my neck.
“I have a surprise for you if you stay,” he says.
My lips twitch. “Is the surprise in your pants?”
He narrows his eyes. “Lucky guess.”
I laugh, and he trails me to the front door.
Kisses me again.
Distracts me from putting on my coat and boots by kissing me.
“I need to go.” I kiss him again, wrapping myself around him.
“You can hide in my room until everybody’s gone to sleep.”
“They’ll send out a search party for me.”
I laugh as he backs me against the door. He pushes against me. Kisses me. Teasing me with his tongue and circling his hips against mine.
My head falls against the door with a thump.
“You’re getting me hard again,” I say.
He laughs, lips vibrating against my skin. “If that’s supposed to be a deterrent, I’m here to tell you it’s not working at all.”
It takes all the willpower I have and then some to drag myself away from him and out the door.
I’m smiling the whole way home.
Theo bounces more than walks along the street. He laughs when Rory says something, and they nudge each other with their elbows before they descend into peals of laughter.
Milán watches them, and when he looks at me he’s smiling.
“You know a lot of that is thanks to you?”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“You took us under your wing.”
I roll my eyes. “That feels like a vast overestimation of my role.”
He grabs my hand and squeezes.
“I’m serious.”
He lets go too soon, and my hand immediately feels empty.
It doesn’t help that he looks really good in his dark jeans, winter jacket, and thick wool hat. More than noticing how good he looks, I notice that I notice. I notice how naturally it registers that I like his face. There’s no agonizing. No why him, why now, how. Nothing but easy acceptance.
I like your face. I like your thoughts. I like everything that comes with you.
“You know how to skate?” I ask. We’re headed to Brooklyn Bridge Park, where they just opened the rink for the season. It’s been a tradition for me and Theo ever since he was old enough to put on skates.
“Adequately enough not to make a complete ass of myself,” he says.
It’s the weekend, so the park is crowded, but we booked the tickets in advance, so our two hours of fun are guaranteed no matter how many people are here. Theo has his own skates, but the rest of us head for the rental counter, then we gather around the bench and lace up our skates.
I’m wobbly at first, like every year. Theo doesn’t have that problem. The kid has inherited the kind of agility that neither Kira nor I possess, so I have no idea where he got it from.
Rory gets on his skates cautiously at first, but soon he’s zooming away after Theo with no issues.
Milán gets up from the bench, turns around to face me, somehow manages to trip, and lands on his ass immediately.
I try not to laugh, but he looks so helplessly baffled by the turn of events that I can’t help it. Laughter bubbles out of me. He sends me a wry look, but when I reach out my hand to help him up, he tugs, and I lose my balance at once, landing on top of him with an “Oof.”
He throws his head back and roars with laughter.
“This calls for revenge,” I tell him.
“You can try.”
He rolls onto his hands and knees and gets up. With a wink, he skates away from me. I get up and chase after him. When I catch him, he laughs some more.
The whole thing turns into an elaborate game of tag that soon includes both Rory and Theo.
Long story short, we almost get kicked out because it turns out tag is against the rules, so eventually we end up skating side by side around the perimeter of the rink.