Chapter Sixteen
Everett Young
The impossible has happened.
Last night, I took Skylar’s virginity—he practically begged me to do it. He said that he would accept nothing less. And who am I to deny him? How could I possibly crush his dreams?
Holding him, hearing him, being inside of him… I have never felt anything like it. It wasn’t just a physical pleasure that coursed through me, but a mind-numbing rightness that took hold of my soul and drowned out all the doubt.
Skylar was vulnerable with me; he had me within his reach and did not strike. I know it must have taken a lot for his independent ass to do it, and somehow, that makes the surrender that much brighter.
For one single night, all of my desires were sated.
Him and me? We were finally one. I believe I now have every version of Skylar locked away inside of me.
But now the sun has risen, and all of that guilt and terror that took the backseat yesterday is in the forefront of my mind, mocking me.
There are so many questions wrapped up in this one event: what will Skylar say or do now? How will I keep this side of me away from Ash and Felicita? How do I get Skylar in my arms again?
He asked me last night if I wanted him for more than just sex, and I do. I want every version of Skylar there ever was and ever will be, all to myself.
But I’m terrified of the outcome of this want. I can’t just quit being the son of a Carmichael, and one body can only take so much abuse.
I know they aren’t the best parents; I truly do, but they’re the only ones that have ever seen promise in me. That had faith in who I’d become one day.
That little bottle of rage that I tried to take with me yesterday, after Ash laid me out, would be very convenient right now.
I have a lot of decisions to make, and several fears to overcome. But how will I do it?
Is it possible to make myself that much stronger?
As the sunlight begins to bleed into the living room, another impossible thing becomes apparent to me: I have awoken before Skylar.
He lies on my chest, his curls spread over my bare skin and his soft exhales hitting my collarbones. His lashes are so thick, spanning the tops of his cheekbones as he dreams peacefully.
To be fair, he expended a lot of energy last night. I can’t expect him to be up and at it so early after making him come that hard, more than once.
Plus, it’s nice to watch him. As if I’m in a limbo, an in-between moment where I’m free from consequence, and I can just exist. With him. I can admire his beauty and not be discovered for it.
But my moment passes as all moments do, and Skylar sighs heavily, his eyes blinking wearily against the morning sun.
“Good morning,” I murmur into his hair, my arms instinctively wrapping tighter around his waist.
What if, in the light of this new day, he runs?
Blue eyes clash with mine, and a soft flush coats Skylar’s cheeks. “Morning.”
He does not run. No, he tilts his head and shoves his face into the crook of my neck, breathing me in.
Goosebumps rise, scattering across my skin as his hair tickles my chin and his feet rub against mine. We are connected at so many points, our flesh mingling. I… I never want this to end.
At the cost of everything I own and everyone who loves me, I cannot lose this.
What a truly terrifying realization.
“So, it wasn’t a dream?” Skylar asks, his words soaking into my skin.
“I hope not.”
He laughs, a small and breathless thing. “Uh, me too. It was fun.”
Fun. Yeah, sure, that covers it.
“Fun?” I repeat. “I was thinking it was more like earthshattering or soul-stealing.”
“You’re so annoying,” he groans, shifting until he’s sitting on my lap, staring down at me. “It can be whatever you want it to be, as long as it happens again.”
He’s giving me a pointed glare, but I can see the blush beneath it. His words waver slightly, as if he’s embarrassed. As if he’s afraid of asking for too much.
“Whatever you want, Sky.”
Skylar grins, splaying his hands over my chest.
He looks like an angel in this moment—all glowy skin and bright eyes. I want to douse him in my scent, to mark him, to keep him locked away inside of this apartment so that only I have access to him.
It appears that my nasty alter ego is growing, twisting into something greedy and desperate. Once I figure out how to keep Skylar and keep peace with my family, I’ll need to sort out getting rid of this possessiveness.
“Should we eat breakfast?” Skylar asks.
“Sure. Will you make French toast?”
“For a kiss, I will.”
I freeze, my hands hanging in the air as my attempt to sit up is foiled. Skylar is unblinking, lips slightly parted as he waits, silence hanging between us like a violent warning sign.
Did he just…. Did he just ask me for a kiss? I haven’t had the pleasure of pressing my lips to his since his birthday! And right here? In the light of day, while we’re not even—
Oh, god. Oh no. Did I…
I took Skylar’s virginity and didn’t kiss him once.
In a flash, I’m sitting up, my hands clasping Skylar’s cheeks. He startles, eyes widening as his own hands grip my wrists.
“Evie?” he whispers.
“I’m so sorry. Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry, Sky.”
“Huh? Why are you—what is going on?!” He is completely bewildered as he stares at me, searching for answers in my teary expression.
“I’m the worst first ever. Genuinely. I wanted to give you such a sweet first time, and instead, I drunk fucked you and didn’t even bother to kiss you once. That’s the bare minimum! At the very least, I should have offered you a single kiss.”
My apology doesn’t seem to affect him, negatively or positively. Instead, he starts laughing.
“I’m not sure why you’re laughing,” I deadpan. “I’m serious! You may not understand, considering this is all new to you, but there are rules and expectations for—”
“You’re ridiculous!” he pushes out through a fit of giggles. “There is no such thing as rules for losing your virginity, Everett. I liked it; I had a good time. That’s all that matters.”
“You’re not getting it. We should have waited until we were sober, at least.”
Skylar still doesn’t agree—I can see it in the defiant glint of his eyes. But he doesn’t object outright, leaning forward to press his lips to mine.
And he might be inexperienced in a lot of ways, but my little viper can master a skill faster than most.
His tongue pushes into my mouth without warning, rubbing against my own as he shoves his body flush against me. His ass presses against my dick from where he still sits on my lap, and it takes everything in me not to move.
It’s such a beautiful, peaceful moment that I almost let my indiscretion slide. Almost.
As he pulls away to breathe, I say, “Sky, listen. I really need you to acknowledge this.”
He’s so close that as he smiles, I can feel it against my own lips. “Alright, Evie. I acknowledge your failure. Which, I guess, means you’ll have to make it up to me. A redo of sorts.”
A redo? Skylar is literally rewarding me for bad behavior. I feel like an untrained dog being hand-fed treats after ripping up the carpets.
But you know what? I’ll take it. I’ll take anything his hands feed me.
“Great. Should we start now?” I’m reaching around his waist, gripping his ass and squeezing, as the question leaves me.
Skylar rolls his eyes, swatting me away as he stands. “No, dumbass. We have to buy sheets first, remember?”
“I could always fuck you on the couch. There are plenty of ways for two guys to—”
“I’m so done listening to you right now.”
A blissful calm overcomes me as I watch him enter the kitchen, pulling out the ingredients he needs to prepare us breakfast. He cracks eggs and mixes them with vanilla, slicing bread in half, his naked body moving gracefully around the small space.
And it feels right, this singular moment. It’s comforting. It feels like home.
As I watch him, in my mind, I’m eight years old and checking under his bed for monsters to calm his tantrum.
I’m fourteen and listening to him whine about maturing, and how it’s ruining his perfectly smooth skin.
I’m fifteen and defending him from bullies at our high school once again, all because of how pretty he was.
I’m eighteen, noticing that beauty fully for the first time, staring longingly after him as he parts for his first lecture of freshman year.
There are so many moments between the two of us, and as this new energy we’ve created unfolds, I can’t help but remember them fondly. We have shared so much, experienced the world together, and I refuse to lose the future moments we could create.
If I could keep Ash placated long enough, then maybe one day I could slip away. Maybe I can grow up a bit more, become a bit stronger, then Skylar and I can run far away from Sinclair and all its horrors.
“Hey,” I prompt, happy to be at a distance that prohibits him from seeing all the emotion in my eyes. “Have you ever thought about leaving here?”
“Like, moving from Sinclair?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“Hm. Not a whole lot, but I wouldn’t be opposed to it. Why?”
So there’s a chance; there is a likelihood that I could convince him to run with me. If we could do that much, then nothing else would truly matter, would it?
I only have to entertain Ash for a little under three months, and I think I know exactly how I can swing that.
“No reason.” I stand from the couch, making my way to where Skylar is cooking. “I want another kiss now.”
He laughs, his hands extended from his body to avoid touching me with his sticky fingers as he turns to face me.
“You’re so annoying, you know that?” he teases.
But he doesn’t fight me, letting my hands grip at his hips and pull his body to mine.
“So you keep saying,” I mutter.
And I kiss him again. I kiss him because here, in the little space we’ve cultivated, I can have Skylar and not feel ashamed for it.
Here, with him, I am safe.
The sun has set, the sheets have been changed, and as I listen to the running water of Skylar’s shower, I pull out my phone.
The start of my master plan to keep my best friend begins with a single text.
Everett
Hey, Ashley. Are you free tomorrow?