5. Frankie #2
This time their mouths moved in sync as if they’d been kissing for years.
Like their bodies had been getting to know each other this whole time and only now were allowed to show it.
Diego reached up and gripped the hair at the back of Frankie’s neck.
Frankie had never had anyone do that before and when Diego used his grip to pull, Frankie moaned.
Diego ran his tongue down Frankie’s neck and sank his teeth into a particular spot on his throat.
It was still a little bruised from the last time Diego had done it.
Frankie keened and threaded his hands through Diego’s thick, lush hair.
He’d reacted quite poorly when Frankie had said he wanted him to mark him last time but maybe this time was different?
“Staking your… your territory?” Frankie panted, tilting his head to the side to let him work his way down lower on his neck.
“Yes. Just fucking say the words, Frankie… tu eres mio .”
“ Tu … eres mio ?” Frankie asked.
Diego growled, actually growled like some sort of teen heartthrob werewolf. Frankie realized with an embarrassing jolt he could definitely be into that.
“Are you asking?” Diego asked.
“I was asking what it meant but… roughly translating here, I’m assuming it means ‘you is me’… so, you—”
“Are mine. All you have to do is say yes,” Diego rumbled. His voice hit a register so low Frankie could barely hear him. Instead, he felt it in the muscles in his chest. It traveled through his ribs and into his heart, pumping out to every corner of his body with the rapid beating of his pulse.
“ Oui, je suis à toi, ” Frankie said. A final tear rolled down his cheeks as Diego surged forward and captured Frankie’s mouth in an achingly sweet kiss.
“Franklin, do you mean it? You’ll be my boyfriend?”
“Yes,” Frankie whispered and in the brief pause after his words he heard a shuffling noise on the other side of Seth and Obie’s door.
Frankie let out a wet laugh and brought his hands up to cover Diego’s ears. “Yes schnookums, I’ll happily be your cock sleeve!” Frankie yelled. He heard a crash from behind the closed bedroom door and let out another laugh.
Diego winced at the volume, and then a frown creased his brow. “Frankie, we’re going to need a few conversations about sex.”
“Oh, I know! Sorry, I was just—”
“Bothering our amazing friends who have been housing your ass this past month?” Diego teased, a genuine smile spreading across his lips. It pulled a grin out of Frankie, but then he schooled his expression.
“I’m ready and very willing to have whatever conversations you need to have with me, Diego. I haven’t been with anyone else in almost four months, and I’ve been tested twice and am on PrEP.”
Diego sat back so his butt was on the ground, and he brought his legs out to the side, bracketing Frankie’s body.
“I’m also on PrEP and haven’t been with anyone since grad school.
I was tested sometime last year, but I should probably get tested again.
Some things can spread in locker rooms and on towels. Better safe than sorry.”
Frankie nodded and reached for his phone. He scrolled to his test results and held them out to Diego, who looked skeptically down at his phone. “I… I trust you, querido . You don’t have to share them with me.”
Frankie scowled at him and put his phone away. “D, you always have to see them. You can never be too careful. Someone could lie about how recent their results are, or if they’re doing poppers or K they might say they’re tested in the heat of the moment even if they’re not.”
Diego was looking at him with such a horrified expression Frankie couldn’t help but pull him into his arms, which resulted in Diego sort of curling up into his lap. “Right. I forget sometimes that you haven’t really experienced gay hook-up culture,” Frankie murmured.
“No, I… I haven’t,” Diego mumbled. He curled a fist into Frankie’s t-shirt. “But, I don’t have to worry about that anymore, right?”
“No, mon chéri , you don’t. You just saw my test results. Maybe now you’ll actually take it seriously and read them, and you’ll go get tested and we’ll be good to go.”
“Okay, and, uh, I have permanent birth control, so… we’re good on that too.”
For a moment Frankie almost laughed, and then with a jolt, he realized Diego was being completely serious.
Fuck, he wasn’t just a gay man, he was a trans gay man and Frankie had best not forget lest he absolutely fucking step in it like by laughing at the idea of his boyfriend needing birth control.
“Oh, uh, yeah I guess if I was being responsible, like I was trying to do, I should have asked about that… uhm… is it, like, an IUD or…”
Diego tilted his head up and ran his lips over Frankie’s jaw. “I had a tubal ligation when they did my Metoidioplasty.”
Metoidioplasty. Metoidioplasty. Metoidioplasty. Maybe if Frankie said it enough times in his head, he could remember the word to google it later.
“You know… you’re allowed to ask questions. You never really have, which is fine, but now you’re my boyfriend, and my parts are… well I mean, I hope they’re kind of important to you. Since you’ll hopefully be interacting with them as soon as I get my test results back?”
“O-oh, uhm… yeah, I mean… fuck I… I have a lot of questions, D, but I don’t know if now is exactly the right time?”
They both fell silent, and Frankie listened for sounds on the other side of the closed bedroom door. Hearing none, Diego cleared his throat. “Well, maybe I can just say my piece. I’ve only said it to two other people before but I do have a little spiel if you want it.”
Frankie wanted Diego’s spiel, his love, and whatever it was that was in his pants because whatever he had was his and that meant Frankie wanted to get his hands, his mouth and possibly several other parts of himself on it – as soon as fucking possible.
Were the clinics still open? He subtly glanced at the clock on the TV stand but then jerked his eyes back.
He was being insensitive. Diego would get tested whenever he was ready, Frankie wouldn’t rush him.
Diego seemed to be waiting for something, studying Frankie critically, so he nodded his head frantically.
“So, I have what I call a bio dick. It’s basically the tissue that made up my clit, as well as tissue from my labia majora.
It was reconstructed into a bigger bio dick, about–” he held up his fingers around two inches apart.
“This big. It grew a little from taking testosterone and it can get hard and a bit bigger.” He moved his fingers apart another half-inch or so.
“I have what I call a front hole, and it looks different from, uh… other front holes you may have seen because of the surgery. It doesn't self-lubricate very well anymore and the skin is a little more fragile than it used to be since I’ve been on T for almost five years. It can also get the typical infections that other front holes can get, so I have to be careful and… ask for test results I guess. Damn.”
Diego looked away in shame and Frankie gently turned his face back towards him. “It’s okay, D. They don’t teach this stuff in school and even if they did, it probably wouldn’t be designed for trans men.”
Diego nodded sadly.
“Is there anything else?” Frankie asked. He ran his thumb affectionately back and forth over Diego’s jawline, marveling at how coarse his facial hair was. It wasn’t anywhere near as soft as the hair on his head, and Frankie allowed himself to wonder how the hair on the rest of his body would feel.
Diego shifted slightly, rubbing his ass across Frankie’s very clear erection. Frankie groaned and buried his face in the soft fabric of Diego’s hoodie.
“Oh God, Diego.”
“Talking about holes does it for you?” Diego asked with a hint of skepticism creeping into his voice.
“Talking about your holes does it for me, yeah. Do you… I mean, can I… use both? In sex? I mean not use. Jesus, that sounds awful. I meant, er, pleasure and engage with in a very respectful manner.”
Diego laughed and silenced him with a kiss. “Now I sort of do hope our friends were listening, because if they were, they probably would have just died from embarrassment for you.”
Frankie ran a hand down his face. “Yeah, fuck me, that was awful. Can I try again?”
Diego tilted his head to rest on Frankie’s shoulder, his beautiful brown eyes blinking up at him expectantly.
“So, you have a front hole that would require extra lubrication, and a little more caution because…” Frankie trailed off realizing he actually didn’t know a whole hell of a lot about trans men’s bodies.
“Because it relies on estrogen to do all of its own maintenance and lubrication, and because I have very little of that now, it functions differently.”
Frankie nodded and did a mental scramble to file all the information away somewhere he could find it later. “So, do you want me, your boyfriend and hopefully very soon to be lover, to engage with it in any way? Or do you prefer anal?”
Diego blinked up at him for a moment and then raised a skeptical eyebrow. Fuck, had Frankie messed up the language? He thought he’d been much better that time. When Diego continued to stare at him, he began to sweat.
Finally, Diego sat up straight and glared at him, clearly unimpressed. “I’m trying to decide how offended to be that you’re assuming I’m a bottom.”
Frankie balked. “I… I wasn’t! I just… you just… that was your spiel, so I assumed…” Frankie’s cheeks were so hot he thought they might start to sweat.
Diego blinked slowly at him. “You assumed because I have two holes—”
“Diego, I would love it if you would fuck me. If you never want to bottom for me with any of your holes, I would be okay with that. Completely, one hundred percent okay. I just want to be with you in any way you’ll let me.”
Diego smiled faintly, sagging a little into a less erect posture. “I’m… vers.”