Blue, Chapter Twelve
“Are you sure about this?” This is probably the thousandth time Kevin’s asked. I don’t know why he can’t just accept that I am; I’ve never prepared myself so thoroughly for anything, and the fact that his fingers are pressing inside me probably means that I’ve said yes a thousand times anyway. We’re halfway there; he needs to just shut up.
I close my eyes, breathe out slowly through my nose, and my fingers curl in the sheets. I try to be calm. “Yes. I’m sure. Please don’t ask again. It’s making me nervous.” I’m not sure how I approached the situation. I know I pressed him up against the wall and kissed him harder than I ever have, almost blindly, and I was relieved when he kissed back just as greedily. I was starting to think he didn’t have it in him.
He nods, and I tip my head back, letting myself rock against his fingers, my lip caught between his teeth. There’s an affectionate smile in his voice when he says, “You’re beautiful like that. I’m so lucky.”
I laugh breathlessly. “You’re lucky to have a virgin in your bed. Get to break me in, huh?”
He pinches my hip. “Don’t talk like that.” I press my lips together, and he kisses the wound. “I love you. I want this to be good for you.”
“I know. Please hurry. I think I’m ready now.”
He gives a few more quick prods with his fingertips, enough to make me moan out his name, and then draws back to slick himself up and roll on a condom. I eye the latex bitterly, almost angry that it’s necessary for him to wear one. He leans over me, one arm braced next to my head, the other gripping my thigh, and the moment in which he presses inside me is almost surreally quick - painful and weird but not life-changing like I imagined losing my virginity would be, and I figure Nick must have been right.
My head falls to the side, and I breathe deeply through my nose, focusing on the feeling of Kevin’s fingers on my cock, slowly jerking me off to keep my mind off the pain. He shifts a little, and my fingers fly to hold onto his shoulders. “Fuck.” I hiss out between my teeth, and his mouth falls against my neck, ravishing, as we start to move together. My hands claw against his back, my face lifted toward the ceiling, and I venture to wrap my legs around his waist, which makes him groan in a way I appreciate, and his pace picks up, and somewhere in the process, I start moaning and whining and crying out his name, and in the back of my mind, it’s embarrassing, but mostly I don’t care how I sound.
When we were laying on the grass in the park, and Nick fucked his fingers into me in a way that had me writhing and kissing so hard I was biting, I thought it was going to be the best feeling I could have - the satisfaction of achieving some kind of vengeance and the euphoria of Nick being so very talent - but this is so much better, especially with Kevin grunting against my ear how much he loves me and how “fucking hot” I am, and to hear Kevin say things like that confuses and excites me. When I beg him to touch me, he bites down on my shoulder instead, and the sensation has me coming seconds later.
He manages to orient himself enough to slow down, and then to pause, so we’re both just breathing heavily, our bodies tangled up together, and then he kisses me, softly and slowly like he always does, and I wrap my arms around his neck and try to ignore the tears welling up in my closed eyes. He pulls out of me carefully, and I wince, which makes him rub my stomach tenderly, and he rolls me onto my side, spooning up behind me and pressing in again, and the pain is duller now, more a throb than anything. He still doesn’t move, but his fingers come down to jerk me to hardness, and only when I start to press back against him does he start rocking forward. I tilt my head back and to the side, and we kiss over my shoulder, his tongue lapping gently against mine.
I know he’s close when his thrusts get sloppy; he shows the same loss of control when I let him fuck my mouth, or when we’re grinding together, and when he comes, he goes very still, and part of me wishes he didn’t have a condom on so I can feel it. He pulls out after a moment, tying off the condom and throwing it in the trash, and I roll onto my back so he can suck me off, which he does so tenderly, his tongue and lips pressing in all the places he knows I like. At some point, my fingers twine in his hair, and I whine and buck up into his mouth, which he allows as patiently as he always has, and when I arch up, whimpering, he swallows it all before crawling up to press his lips to mine. “I love you.”
“Mmm.” My head falls to the side. “That was good. I liked it.”
“I’m happy to hear it.” He chuckles, nuzzling my neck and resting there against me, his body warm and just a shade sweaty. “That’s was really wonderful for me. I’m so glad you shared this with me.”
My eyes slide open, and I find myself staring at his wall, where a framed Casablanca poster hangs. “Was I as good as Nick?”
He doesn’t seem to hear my words at first, too preoccupied with kissing his way along my neck. When he realizes what I said, he pauses and looks up at me. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
He swallows. “I was going to tell you.”
“Sure you were.”
“Joe.”
“We’ve been dating for more than six months. When exactly were you planning on telling me?”
“I just wanted it to be the right time. I didn’t want it to be so close on the back of you and Nick having a thing and…” He lets his eyes close, takes several breaths as I’ve seen him do to calm himself on the few occasions in which he and Nick have fought. He rolls off of me, sitting up, and I shift onto my side, my arm under my head, and look up at him, waiting. “I shouldn’t make excuses.” He admits quietly. “I should’ve told you from the start. I mean, Nick and I were never… together officially. He had just turned fifteen, and he kept telling me about all these guys that liked to kiss him and hold him, and how excited it made him, and I got… scared. I didn’t want him to get taken advantage of, or hurt. He’s essentially my little brother, you know?” I nod. “So I told him, if he wanted, I would… show him the ropes, so to speak.” He shrugs.
“Show him the ropes? So you were the one who taught him to act like a whore?”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” He presses his fingertips against his eyelids, and I lay my hand on his knee, which seems to comfort him. “I wanted him to know what he liked to do and to have done for him, what he was comfortable doing, what he was uncomfortable doing. I wanted him to know the names of things and what they connoted. I wanted him to be prepared and to not be caught off-guard and for him to be experienced enough so that no one could use it to hurt him.” He swallows. “I know I probably contributed to how he is with guys now, but I’m at least at ease knowing that when I ask him how things are going that he’ll say they’re fine, or he’ll say that he had some creep guy that he was able to get rid of because of what I taught him.”
The room is quiet, and I pet his leg. He covers my hand. “I’m sorry.” I offer quietly. “I don’t… I mean, I understand why you did it, and it makes more sense now and isn’t as scary, and I’m not as angry.”
“I feel there’s a ‘but’ coming.”
I nod. “You didn’t tell me. I understand your reason for not telling me. But love means trust, and you didn’t tell me, and I can’t trust you because of that. I would like to, but I don’t think I can.”
The silence falls over us again, and he tugs at his hair, taking a shaky breath, and I feel horrible because the last thing I ever want to see is Kevin crying. “I don’t think I would have… done this with you if I knew it was going to be break-up sex.”
I feel worse. But I don’t say that. I just slide out of bed and after I shower and pull my clothes back on, Kevin drives me home in the dark.
I close my eyes, breathe out slowly through my nose, and my fingers curl in the sheets. I try to be calm. “Yes. I’m sure. Please don’t ask again. It’s making me nervous.” I’m not sure how I approached the situation. I know I pressed him up against the wall and kissed him harder than I ever have, almost blindly, and I was relieved when he kissed back just as greedily. I was starting to think he didn’t have it in him.
He nods, and I tip my head back, letting myself rock against his fingers, my lip caught between his teeth. There’s an affectionate smile in his voice when he says, “You’re beautiful like that. I’m so lucky.”
I laugh breathlessly. “You’re lucky to have a virgin in your bed. Get to break me in, huh?”
He pinches my hip. “Don’t talk like that.” I press my lips together, and he kisses the wound. “I love you. I want this to be good for you.”
“I know. Please hurry. I think I’m ready now.”
He gives a few more quick prods with his fingertips, enough to make me moan out his name, and then draws back to slick himself up and roll on a condom. I eye the latex bitterly, almost angry that it’s necessary for him to wear one. He leans over me, one arm braced next to my head, the other gripping my thigh, and the moment in which he presses inside me is almost surreally quick - painful and weird but not life-changing like I imagined losing my virginity would be, and I figure Nick must have been right.
My head falls to the side, and I breathe deeply through my nose, focusing on the feeling of Kevin’s fingers on my cock, slowly jerking me off to keep my mind off the pain. He shifts a little, and my fingers fly to hold onto his shoulders. “Fuck.” I hiss out between my teeth, and his mouth falls against my neck, ravishing, as we start to move together. My hands claw against his back, my face lifted toward the ceiling, and I venture to wrap my legs around his waist, which makes him groan in a way I appreciate, and his pace picks up, and somewhere in the process, I start moaning and whining and crying out his name, and in the back of my mind, it’s embarrassing, but mostly I don’t care how I sound.
When we were laying on the grass in the park, and Nick fucked his fingers into me in a way that had me writhing and kissing so hard I was biting, I thought it was going to be the best feeling I could have - the satisfaction of achieving some kind of vengeance and the euphoria of Nick being so very talent - but this is so much better, especially with Kevin grunting against my ear how much he loves me and how “fucking hot” I am, and to hear Kevin say things like that confuses and excites me. When I beg him to touch me, he bites down on my shoulder instead, and the sensation has me coming seconds later.
He manages to orient himself enough to slow down, and then to pause, so we’re both just breathing heavily, our bodies tangled up together, and then he kisses me, softly and slowly like he always does, and I wrap my arms around his neck and try to ignore the tears welling up in my closed eyes. He pulls out of me carefully, and I wince, which makes him rub my stomach tenderly, and he rolls me onto my side, spooning up behind me and pressing in again, and the pain is duller now, more a throb than anything. He still doesn’t move, but his fingers come down to jerk me to hardness, and only when I start to press back against him does he start rocking forward. I tilt my head back and to the side, and we kiss over my shoulder, his tongue lapping gently against mine.
I know he’s close when his thrusts get sloppy; he shows the same loss of control when I let him fuck my mouth, or when we’re grinding together, and when he comes, he goes very still, and part of me wishes he didn’t have a condom on so I can feel it. He pulls out after a moment, tying off the condom and throwing it in the trash, and I roll onto my back so he can suck me off, which he does so tenderly, his tongue and lips pressing in all the places he knows I like. At some point, my fingers twine in his hair, and I whine and buck up into his mouth, which he allows as patiently as he always has, and when I arch up, whimpering, he swallows it all before crawling up to press his lips to mine. “I love you.”
“Mmm.” My head falls to the side. “That was good. I liked it.”
“I’m happy to hear it.” He chuckles, nuzzling my neck and resting there against me, his body warm and just a shade sweaty. “That’s was really wonderful for me. I’m so glad you shared this with me.”
My eyes slide open, and I find myself staring at his wall, where a framed Casablanca poster hangs. “Was I as good as Nick?”
He doesn’t seem to hear my words at first, too preoccupied with kissing his way along my neck. When he realizes what I said, he pauses and looks up at me. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
He swallows. “I was going to tell you.”
“Sure you were.”
“Joe.”
“We’ve been dating for more than six months. When exactly were you planning on telling me?”
“I just wanted it to be the right time. I didn’t want it to be so close on the back of you and Nick having a thing and…” He lets his eyes close, takes several breaths as I’ve seen him do to calm himself on the few occasions in which he and Nick have fought. He rolls off of me, sitting up, and I shift onto my side, my arm under my head, and look up at him, waiting. “I shouldn’t make excuses.” He admits quietly. “I should’ve told you from the start. I mean, Nick and I were never… together officially. He had just turned fifteen, and he kept telling me about all these guys that liked to kiss him and hold him, and how excited it made him, and I got… scared. I didn’t want him to get taken advantage of, or hurt. He’s essentially my little brother, you know?” I nod. “So I told him, if he wanted, I would… show him the ropes, so to speak.” He shrugs.
“Show him the ropes? So you were the one who taught him to act like a whore?”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” He presses his fingertips against his eyelids, and I lay my hand on his knee, which seems to comfort him. “I wanted him to know what he liked to do and to have done for him, what he was comfortable doing, what he was uncomfortable doing. I wanted him to know the names of things and what they connoted. I wanted him to be prepared and to not be caught off-guard and for him to be experienced enough so that no one could use it to hurt him.” He swallows. “I know I probably contributed to how he is with guys now, but I’m at least at ease knowing that when I ask him how things are going that he’ll say they’re fine, or he’ll say that he had some creep guy that he was able to get rid of because of what I taught him.”
The room is quiet, and I pet his leg. He covers my hand. “I’m sorry.” I offer quietly. “I don’t… I mean, I understand why you did it, and it makes more sense now and isn’t as scary, and I’m not as angry.”
“I feel there’s a ‘but’ coming.”
I nod. “You didn’t tell me. I understand your reason for not telling me. But love means trust, and you didn’t tell me, and I can’t trust you because of that. I would like to, but I don’t think I can.”
The silence falls over us again, and he tugs at his hair, taking a shaky breath, and I feel horrible because the last thing I ever want to see is Kevin crying. “I don’t think I would have… done this with you if I knew it was going to be break-up sex.”
I feel worse. But I don’t say that. I just slide out of bed and after I shower and pull my clothes back on, Kevin drives me home in the dark.