Later That Night
“You sure you don’t want a ride home, Martin?” Ben had his hand placed possessively around Riley’s waist as they tried to coax Martin into a ride home. I’m sure they had some devious plans to get him into a provocative situation…from what I gathered, they were good at that sort of thing.
Martin shook his head, “No, no…I’ll walk.”
“Don’t be stupid,” I laughed, shaking my head. “I’ll take you home when you’re ready.” I looked up at Riley and Ben, silently pleading. “We’re just gonna talk. You guys can go home. I know we’ve all got homework to get done.”
“Okay, whatever,” Ben shrugged. His hand dipped into Riley’s front pocket and he kissed his temple. “Let’s get outta here then.”
“See you tomorrow,” Riley waved as they descended back up the steps.
“So…” I sat down on the edge of the coffee table, looking at Martin. He looked so cute and awkward. His jeans were a little loose, and his t-shirt was a little baggy. He had on a zip-up jacket that was about one size too big. His skin was a light tan color, like it had been awhile since he’d just been out in the sun for fun. His hair was a little messy, like he scrunched it in his fists when he was frustrated or something. “Do you want to talk more…or did you just want to go home? I don’t blame you for not accepting their ride. I know they can be a little…well…Ben-N-Riley.”
Martin shrugged, “I-I don’t mind staying…I mean, if you have homework, I can go, but…it’s not like I have anyone waiting for me at home.”
“What about your parents? Siblings?” I asked.
He shrugged, “My Dad died. My Mom goes out a lot, lets me fend for myself. I’m an only child.”
“Ah,” I nodded. “Finally, I know something about the mysterious Martin.”
He smiled softly, shaking his head, “I’m not that mysterious. I’m just quiet.”
“Why is that?”
“Just painfully shy.”
I got up, crossing the room. I hesitated for just a second before I ran my fingers through his hair, “So, is your hair like this all of the time, or do you put something in it to make it look like you’re frazzled all of the time?”
“I use a gel,” He admitted. “But I can never get it to go the way I want it, so I don’t know why I bother.”
“It’s cute,” I smiled. I wished that I had asked Ben and Riley for more pointers. I had the feeling that if I went with my gut on all of this, I would find myself knocked out on the floor, nursing a bloody nose or something…but I also figured that if I didn’t do something…we would never progress past a safe-friend zone.
“What are you doing?” He looked kind of worried as I let my fingers tug on the ends of his hair, making it spike up.
“Just playing with your hair,” I shrugged.
“You’re gonna get your hands all sticky,” He ducked his head away from my hands.
I shrugged, “Big deal. I’ve got a sink. I might even have some soap.”
“…Maybe I should go home,” He started to stand, and my fight-or-flight mechanism started to kick in.
“No!” I put a hand on his shoulder. “…You can’t yet. I mean…well, maybe I can help you out. I mean, you’re in a couple of classes that I took last year, so you know…if you need anything…”
He shrugged, “I’m actually doing okay.”
“Are you sure? ‘Cause, I’d love to help you out.”
“No, really. I’m fine.”
“Because, I’m really just looking for a reason to get you to stay here,” I admitted. “Even if you don’t need the help, you could stay and do your homework here…maybe stay the night?”
“Stay the night?”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “We can have like a sleep over… If you want, you can sleep down here on one of the couches –or I can sleep on one of the couches and you can sleep in my room…on my bed.”
“Is this the part where I’m supposed to suggest that we’re both adults here who can share a bed? That this is platonic, except it’s going to turn out that it isn’t and we’re going to end up fucking?” Martin asked. His bluntness surprised me.
I shook my head, “No, no of course not. I mean, have you seen my bed?” I gave a nervous laugh. “It’s really not made for two. I’m obviously not the slickest guy in town…I really should upgrade my mattress.”
He shook his head, “I’m sorry, that was…defensive. I’d like to stay.”
I smiled, “Okay. Awesome. Why don’t you grab your bag, and I’ll go get us some chips or something from the kitchen while I grab my stuff, and we can work down here?”
He nodded, “Okay.” He grabbed his backpack from the corner by the stairs while I jogged up the steps, trying to hold back my furious red face that was creepy up my neck.
“You look thrilled.” My Dad was just coming out of the living room as I leaned back against the door. “Your friends still here?”
“Just one of them,” I tried to calm down my face. “Is it okay if he stays the night?”
Dad shrugged, “Sure, I guess… This wouldn’t happen to be the one who was with you when Ben and Riley were up here, is it? Although, I can’t imagine the two of them parting ways for an evening, so…it’s silly of me to ask, right?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Lets put it this way, Son. Is there something you’d like to tell me?” He raised an eyebrow.
I shrugged, “Not particularly, no.” I knew I should probably be nervous…that I should probably just come clean with my Dad and tell him that I was having feelings for another boy. …My Dad had always been there for me, and I knew I could count on him to understand me, and what I was going through. He wasn’t judgmental, and I didn’t expect him to really say anything if I did tell him. But, I also felt like if I told him, then it would be permanent. And I wasn’t even sure how this thing with Martin was going to pan out. I just wanted to see how this shaped together before I committed to telling my dad I might be gay, or at least bi.
“Then okay,” He nodded, not pressing the issue. “Have fun. Don’t stay up too late, it’s a school night.”
“Of course not,” I shook my head. He nodded at me, his own personal way of saying ‘I love you, don’t get into trouble’ before exiting for the upstairs.
When I got downstairs, Martin was already laying on his stomach with a pillow tucked under him, with his history text book open in front of him. He had a pen tucked behind his ear, a pencil clenched between his teeth, and a highlighter in his hand.
“You are a serious studier, aren’t you?” I raised an eyebrow at him.
He looked up at me, opening his mouth to drop the pencil, and he plucked the pen from behind his ear, tossing it aside, “Oh, well…I like to be prepared, you know?”
“Right,” I nodded.
“No, really…the pen is for personal notes, the pencil is for book notes, in the margin so they can be erased, and the highlighter, is…well, for high lighting. I’m kind of…OCD, I guess. I like to keep things organized and neat.”
“So…” I sat down in front of him, picking up the pen. “If I…just kind of…” I pressed the tip against the corner of the page.
“Please don’t mark my text book…I tried really hard to get a non-shitty book when they were handed out, and this one is like almost new.”
I smiled, putting the pen back down, “You are a little OCD, aren’t you?”
“Well…when my Dad died, my Mom…went off the deep end a little bit. In fact, I’m not sure she’s even back in the shallow end yet, much less out of the pool. While she started sleeping around, I started cleaning, and organizing. My mom probably doesn’t know this, but when she’s not at home, I alphabetize the things in her room –like her books. First by author, then by title, then by date, then by character names, then by color…” He took a deep breath. “By publisher, by the number of times I know she’s read them.” He sighed, “And when I’ve organized them those seven ways, I do the list over again. So far, I’ve rearranged her bookshelves twenty-seven times –between those, I’ve rearranged her CD collection, her videos, even her magazines, by similar lists.”
“What about your stuff?” I asked. “Do you go all obsessive-compulsive over your collections?”
He shrugged, “I pretty much have my room the way that I want it. My books are in alphabetical order by title, my CDs are in order by band, and my movies are in order by the number of times I’ve watched them.”
“What movie have you watched the most?”
He turned crimson, and I was suddenly keyed into why Ben and Riley found the action so attractive. He really was painfully shy and oblivious. “I’m pretty sure it’s Beauty and the Beast.”
“Beauty and the Beast?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, the Disney version,” he shrugged. “I don’t watch a lot of movies lately. It was one of the first films I ever saw as a kid. My dad took me when it first came out into the theater, even though it was a romantic fairytale.” He smiled softly, “My Dad liked fairytales. He was especially fond of Hans Christian Anderson. He hated the Little Mermaid, because in the real story, the mermaid dies at the end. And in the Disney version, everyone has to end up happy of course, so she ends up with her prince, instead of dying for him.” I watched little smile on his face turn downwards, “That was a long time ago…but now, when I think about my Dad, I watch that movie. So…I’ve probably seen it a hundred times. I watched it a lot after he died.”
“How’d he die?” I asked. “I mean, not to pry, I’m just curious.”
Martin shrugged, “It’s not a big deal. You have every right to be curious... One minute, he was complaining about the headache of a lifetime at our annual Christmas party and the next I found myself sitting in a hospital waiting room, hearing that my Dad was dead because of an aneurism in his brain that no one knew that he had.” He looked up at me, and I wasn’t sure how to read his expression. Like…a lost puppy or something. His eyes were hurt, like there was something more to the story that he wasn’t ready to share yet.
“Are you okay? We can stop talking about it if you want…”
“No,” he shook his head. “I suppose I have to talk about it at some point. I’m sure if I went to a therapist, they would be telling me that I need to talk about it. That my family problems need to be brought out into the light, and I should be discussing them to see what the real root of all of my personal and social anxieties are.”
“Martin, really,” I shook my head. “We can stop.”
“I’m sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?” He raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t mean too, I was just going off on a rant. You can ignore me,” He shook his head, looking back down at his book. I watched him for a moment before I sat up on my knees.
“Martin.”
He looked up, “Nick.”
“I want to kiss you,” I admitted. “But, I don’t know if I should, you know, ask for permission or something…I mean, they always say in the movies and stuff that you should just do it, but is that something that they just say in movies? And if I’m not supposed to ask, I feel that I should at least give you a fair warning, since this is neither solicited nor enticed.” I watched him close his text book and bring himself up to my level.
“Is that all you want?” He asked. “Just to kiss me?”
“No,” I shook my head. “I’m ready to admit that I am more then willing to try many different things with you, a few of which probably require us to get naked…but I’d like to start with a kiss.”
“Would you,” He nodded.
“I would.”
“Then why are you just talking about it?” He pondered. “If you want to, why—“ I cut him off, pulling him across our pile of books and into my lap. His lips were tightly closed but after a moment, when the initial shock had subsided, his lips became less tense, and (dare I say?) he even kissed me back a little bit. It was like a fever had taken a hold of me. He slid back into his spot on top of his pillow, and I couldn’t help but feel like I wanted more. I stared at him, my hands itching to explore underneath the hem of his t-shirt; itching to unbutton his jeans and coax him into a raging hard-on.
“…Okay,” He nodded.
“Okay,” I nodded. My itchings would have to wait, I thought. I mean, what was I thinking? Accosting this guy in my basement… I had promised him we could be friends first, and see what happened from there. Never had I said that I was going to molest him on the same night we finally saw level ground… I was shaken from my thoughts as he pushed me back onto the floor.
“Martin,” I raised an eyebrow.
“Shut up,” he shook his head. “If you stop me now, I’m going to run from his house so fast…but, if you just bare with me for awhile. I might be okay.” His fingers flexed into the carpet and his mouth found mine again. I couldn’t help but smile against his lips, and I wrapped an arm around his waist. My lips were tugging my brain to focus on kissing him back, but the rest of my body was on red alert as his fingers started to trail my chest, and my groin was at full alert as his own impending hard-on brushed mine through our jeans. Never before in my entire life had I ever wanted to be naked so badly as I did when his hand slipped between my legs between kisses to stroke along the outline of my cock.
We just kissed for what seemed like a really long time. Our fingers felt each other through our clothes, but for me at least it wasn’t enough. I wanted to know what his skin felt like under my fingers. I wanted to know what it tasted like.
“Martin…” I pulled my lips from his, pressing them against his neck. “I want to…well, I want to step this up, and if you’re not ready, that’s cool with me. You just gotta slide back across your text book, and put that pencil back into your mouth, and we’ll pretend that we never lost our inhibitions….but if you’re game, I really…really, would like to do something more then kissing.”
“Like…more-more?”
“Some where between more and more-more,” I smiled. “I don’t, I mean I’m not ready to have sex with you, just yet. But, I do want to…you know. Go somewhere close.”
“Like what?” He asked. “Hand-job…blow job…frot? Dock?”
“What? You’re speaking Greek all of a sudden.”
“You don’t know what…frottage or docking is?” He furrowed his eyebrow. “Oh man…I just became a really big pervert, didn’t I?” He moved away.
“No, of course not! Just because I don’t know what something is...” I shrugged. “I’ll admit, I’m a little behind on…stuff.”
He shook his head, “Frotting is when you, well…rub your penises together. From what I gather it feels really good. Mess is minimal, unless you like messes. “
“And, what was it? Docking?” I couldn’t help but raise a quizzical eyebrow.
“Docking you can only do if… at least one of you is uncut. Like me,” he shrugged. “It’s when, you put the head of the penis under the foreskin of the other. If both partners are uncut, you can actually like…over lap it. Where, one pulls back to penetrate, and then pulls overtop of the other. Apparently it, also, feels really fantastic. It’s kind of, well, dangerous though, since you can’t really wear a condom or anything when you do it. Well, I suppose you could, but I’ve never seen it done that way. Porn shops and stuff actually sell like…a fake tube thing so that cut guys can simulate it too. However, sadly, I have never personally tried any of these things because I am…I am a flaming virgin who spends too much time on the internet watching amateur porn.” He shrugged, not making eye contact with me, like he had just told me something completely mortifying.
“You’re uncut?” My interest was piqued, and everything else he had just said kind of went in one ear and out the other.
He nodded, “Yeah. I am. A lot of people –girls, think it’s weird.”
“That’s stupid,” I shook my head. “I always wondered what it would be like if my parents hadn’t decided to snip it off of me. I mean, it’s really a decision that should be made by the kid later in life, right?”
“I would think so, but parents…what are you gonna do?”
I smiled, “You’re really a virgin?”
“Are you?” He raised an eyebrow, finally stealing a look my direction.
“I’ve had girlfriends,” I shrugged. “But I’ve never done anything with a boy before. So, I’m a gay virgin, but…not totally.”
“Well, then you’ve got one up on me,” he shrugged. “But…I think we should finish studying before we do anything else.” He gave me a brief smile before he slid back across his books. “Okay?”
I nodded, “Right. Studying.” I was pretty sure that I was flushing colors that would rival Martin’s best blushes. I felt really warm, like my body was overheating with all of the sexual frustration that was building up inside of me. Martin looked okay though. He brushed his hair out of his face, settling back down in front of his text book. I turned away from him to focus on my own books, to kind of remove the temptation that he was creating. We worked quietly for awhile, trying to ignore each other’s presence while we worked. I was relieved when he closed his text book and started packing them away.
“You done?” I asked. Stupid question, I chided myself.
“Yeah, for now. The rest will give me something to do in homeroom and study hall tomorrow. How about you?” He asked, zipping up his bag.
I looked at my Chemistry text and suddenly didn’t really care anymore, “You know…I’m done too.” I tossed the book up onto the chair, “I’ll do it later. It doesn’t really matter.”
Martin rolled his eyes, “You shouldn’t just blow off your school work like that.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I shrugged. “I can think of plenty of things, just as worthwhile, to do.” I pushed my bag out of the way. “Plus, I’m curious to know what else you’ve picked up from the porn industry.” I raised an eyebrow.
“Well, you know…you could just watch it yourself,” He shrugged. He looked nervous as I moved across the floor towards him, pressing my palms into the carpet on either side of him. I pressed my lips to his cheek. Then his jaw. Then finally to his lips. A few moments later, we found ourselves on the floor. Martin had a leg wrapped around my hips and my hands were skirting under the front of his shirt. I traced out the shape of his abs, and my thumbs brushed over his nipples. I felt him twitch underneath me and I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe we were…moving a little quickly. But, isn’t that what guys our age did? Moved quickly?
“Umm,” Martin pressed his palms to my chest. “Wait a second, you should know something.”
“What?” I asked. My eyes searched his face for a clue as to what he was going to tell me. I half expected him to tell me that he was…I don’t know, diseased, or had a coke habit. I wasn’t sure. He had already told me that he was a virgin, but I had assured him that I didn’t want to have sex with him tonight.
“When I said I was a virgin…I mean, that I’ve never really done…this before,” He shrugged. “I mean, I’ve never had a girlfriend, much less a boyfriend. In Morgan, I was kind of a loner. I…I want a real relationship the first time I mess around, you know what I mean? If that’s not what you want, I understand. I’m okay with that. I’m…used to it.”
“Used to what?”
“Not getting what I want.”
I smiled, shaking my head, “Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?”
“N-no…sort of.”
I leaned down, kissing him. My fingers tugged through his hair, and my thumbs pressed against the little spot behind his ears as I tilted his face up towards mine. After a few moments of soft, disturbingly tender kissing, I pulled away, “I’d love to be your boyfriend.” The corniness of the entire situation I found us in stabbed into my stomach, but I couldn’t help but feel kind of happy too.
He nodded, “Okay.”
“So…” I looked down, my fingers beginning to trail up his stomach again. “I take this to mean that, you want me to stop?” His t-shirt got pushed up over his stomach, and I thought it was cute how white his stomach was compared to the light brown of his arms and face.
“M-maybe,” He looked down past my face to watch my fingers trace the little smattering of a treasure trail he had going on. “I mean, you don’t have to stop, I just, I don’t think ‘normal’ couples do this kind of thing the first night they get together, you know?”
“Who says we have to be normal?”
“I want to be normal,” He shrugged.
I nodded, and stood up from the floor. I held out my hand to him, “Okay. Well, it’s getting to be kind of late. Do you want my bed or the couch?”
“Oh…” He took my hand, letting me up him up from the floor. “It doesn’t really matter.”
“Unless you really do want to share,” I raised an eyebrow. “The couch folds out. Plenty of room for two, if you’d prefer…and I’ve probably got some clothes upstairs you can borrow for the night. –Do you need to call home?”
He shook his head, “No, I doubt my Mom will notice…. I would appreciate a shower though. It’s not good to sleep with this crap in my hair.” He tugged on a curled tendril, coated in product.
“Sure,” I nodded. I took his hand in mine, tugging him towards the stairs. “It’s this way.”
I led him towards the bathroom and pointed him in the direction of a fresh towel before I escaped to my room for a bit. I left him a change of clothes, which I hoped wouldn’t be too big on him, on top of the sink once I was sure that he’d be in the shower. I had this uncontrollable urge to strip and join him, but I figured that would be a little too much. I told him to join me back downstairs when he was done, and I went to change myself. I had just unfolded the couch, and was pulling some extra blankets from the cupboard under the stairs when I heard the door open and tentative footsteps came down the steps.
“Hey,” I looked up at him while I unfolded a thicker fleece blanket over the thin one that graced the mattress while it was folded up. “If you want, you can grab an extra pillow. I know these throw ones aren’t that comfortable. They’re in the closet,” I nodded my head in the general direction of the space under the staircase.
He nodded, moving around behind me to grab a couple of extra pillows. I laid another blanket across the foot of the bed before moving to turn the TV on.
“I hope you don’t mind, I like some background noise while I fall asleep,” I explained. I moved to flip off the lights, except for the lights on the stairs. “Oh, yeah, I hope you’re OK with the safety lights. I can’t really turn them off.” I walked back to the pull-out and crawled between the sheets.
“They’re fine,” He came around to the other side of the bed, tossing down the pillows. I watched him tug on the bottom of his shirt before he slipped into the other side of the bed. It felt like there was this huge space between us that I wanted to get rid of. I turned away from him for a second to turn on the Sleep on the Television for twenty minutes, and set the alarm to wake us up at seven o’clock. I tossed the remote onto the floor, and shifted down under the covers, turning onto my side to face Martin.
“Comfortable?” I asked.
“I guess,” He nodded. He certainly didn’t look comfortable. It was like he didn’t know what to do with his hands. First he folded them against his chest, then he let them lay at his sides. Finally, he tucked them under the covers, shifting just a little onto his side.
“Are you…okay? If you’re not, I can go upstairs.”
He shifted his eyes over, “No, it’s fine.” He shifted further onto his side, “It’s kind of creepy down here with all the lights off and stuff, you know?”
I smiled, “Creepy?”
“Yeah, I mean, it is a basement.”
“You don’t like basements?”
He shrugged, “They’ve never really been my favorite places.”
I nodded and I shifted closer, putting a hand on his hip, “Well, I can assure you that my basement is not creepy. There are no creaks, no squeaks, no spiders, or rats. It is more of a rec room, then a basement.” I tilted his chin up just a little and pressed my mouth to his. I felt him, more then I heard him, groan a little in my mouth. After a few minutes, he pulled away, pressing the back of his hand to his reddened lips.
“Maybe we should go to sleep?”
“Oh yeah, sure,” I nodded. I shifted back to my side of the bed. After I had closed my eyes, I felt Martin shift closer to me and hesitantly wrap his arms around my waist. His head lay against my shoulder, and I couldn’t help but smile, and lift my hand to pull my fingers through his damp hair. By the time the TV flicked off, he had relaxed against me, and was breathing softly against my t-shirt. My fingers continued to pull lazily through his hair as I thought, all in all…tonight had been a pretty damn good night.
