Date: Mon, 24 Jun 2019 17:03:40 -0400 From: RJ Subject: To Know What You Want - Ch. 3 To Know What You Want by RJ This story is about a high school sophomore who hits it off with a young man he meets on a dating app. Though the age gap is not large, if themes of adult/youth offend you, do not read. If you have any questions or comments about this piece, want to know about any of my other works, or just want to reach out, please don't hesitate to email me. A list of my works, including links and descriptions, can be found here: https://bit.ly/2S5IYDI. If you would like to be added to a mailing list for this story (or all stories) and receive emails about any updates, let me know. Please also consider donating to Nifty if you can: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ~ Chapter 3 ~ This is the dumbest movie I've ever seen. To me, it's just porn that's trying to be artsy by including a sad, cinematic backstory to it. It's depressing and weird and I sort of hate it, but the cuddling, I love. I rest on Danny's bare chest, wearing just my jersey (after he begged me not to put my underwear back on) and half-listening to his heartbeat while he strokes my back. I like the snuggles, but this movie... Every time another graphic sex scene comes on, I roll my eyes and make a disdainful comment. "It's art!" he says. "It's fucking porn, Danny. Porn isn't art." "Ah, but I beg to differ," he says with a chuckle. "All the work that goes into making porn?" "So? It's not FOR, like, being artsy," I say. "It's to get people off." Danny shrugs. "Art is made for the viewer to feel something, isn't it? Doesn't feeling horny still count?" I just huff. "Whatever. I just hate this fucking movie," I say, glaring at Gaspar Noe's "Love" playing on screen. "It's depressing." He laughs, giving me a little squeeze. "Says the guy who thinks the James Bond movies are still good." "They are!" I say defensively. "They're sexist and dated," he says, laughing. "I need to show you better movies." "I don't trust your opinion," I mutter. "Brat," he says, jamming his fingers into my side to tickle me. I involuntarily start laughing, squirming away from him and grabbing at his wrist. He just chuckles before sliding off the couch and standing up, walking away from me. "Where are you going?" "I'm hungry," he says. "Gonna grab some leftovers. You want some?" I smile. "Nah, I'm good," I say, watching his half-naked body disappear into the kitchen. Danny surprised me with a home-cooked meal tonight. His parents are out of town for a few days, so when I showed up, he let me in through the front door this time, and I got to see the rest of the house. It has a totally different vibe than the basement does -- up here is sort of posh and almost too clean, to the point where I didn't want to touch anything. But Danny used the opportunity to make dinner for me. It was a simple pasta dish with garlic bread, but it was well-seasoned and plated to look fancy. He even went all out with lighting candles at the dinner table, playfully pulling my chair out for me, and pouring me a glass of some French-sounding wine. The wine was shit, but the food and the company were better than I could have hoped for. It was my first taste of something more on the romantic side of things, and a great way to top off three weeks of seeing each other. I want to do the same thing for him, though. I want to be able to take him out to restaurants and movies and museums and shit. But I still haven't found work. At least, not anywhere around here. No one's hiring. "Can you help me find a job?" I ask him when he comes back in the room, a plate in his hand. He pauses and smiles. "You're asking me for help?" I blink. "Yeah...?" Then I laugh at the face he's making. "What?" "You never ask for help," he says, coming over to the couch. "That's not true." "You didn't even let me help you fix your bike last time you came over," he points out, and I blush, remembering how I spent a half-an-hour resetting the chain. "Yeah, because you would've fucked it up," I say. He gives me a look as he sits down, and I sigh. "Okay, I get your point." He's right. I usually don't ask for help. I like to handle things on my own terms simply because I don't like relying on other people. If I can be independent, I will almost always choose that option. "But I'm serious," I tell him. "I need to save up for a car and I'm dead broke." He lifts my legs over his lap and uses them as a table, setting his warm plate above my knees. "There are plenty of small businesses closer to where I live," he says, taking a forkful of pasta and shoveling it into his mouth. He starts chewing as he asks me how far I'm willing to travel. I shrug. "I have my bike." "That's far, dude." "I don't know. Maybe I could borrow my mom's car sometimes," I say. Markeith is the one who works. She'd probably be willing to loan out her coupe if it meant I was doing something constructive. "I just need to make my own money." I hate mooching off my parents. "I'll keep an eye out for ya," he says, continuously eating. "Maybe we can go driving around or something." I smile. "That'd be fun." I picture us spending a day together in his car, jamming out to music and making random stops. Maybe I'll throw a little road head into the fantasy. I lean forward and nudge his arm before he puts a forkful in his mouth. "Gimme some of that." He glances at me with a grin. "I thought you weren't hungry." "I changed my mind," I say, opening my mouth. He laughs before bringing the fork to my tongue and letting me have his bite. I chew slowly, relishing the taste. Definitely the best red sauce I've ever had. Apparently it's some secret family recipe. He watches me chew with a smile for a moment before he speaks up again. "Hey, so, I know we've been hanging out a bunch," he says, clearing his throat, "and I won't get mad if you say yes... but... Are you seeing anyone else?" "No," I tell him. I almost want to laugh in his face. Why the hell would I be seeing anyone else? He smiles a little goofily, nodding. "Cool." "Are you?" I ask. "Nope." I look away slightly so that I can smile to myself. "Nor do I want to." I feel his hand on my shin, gently stroking it with his thumb. "Me neither," I say earnestly. Is he basically asking me to be his boyfriend? I feel like a little fucking girl right now, and I'm trying to hold it all in. I just wanna kiss him. "Good," he says, giving my leg a squeeze. "Another thing," he adds. "I'd love for you to meet Riley." I blink. His son? He wants to let me in on that part of his life? I can't stop my mouth from splitting into a wide grin. I feel like this is a big deal. We haven't talked too much about Riley -- all I really know is that he's adorable and that his roommate watches him when Danny is out, or sometimes Riley's mother. I half-wonder if I'll end up meeting her too, but I just smile and nod. "That'd be cool." I don't know why I'm fussing so much with my outfit. I always keep it simple (shorts, t-shirt or a jersey, sometimes my Timberlands), but I can't help but feel like I need something more. Damn, I need to get a grip. Standing in the mirror is making me too damn self-conscious right now. And for what? All I'm doing is meeting a fucking baby. Not exactly someone I'm trying to impress. I tear myself away from the mirror, grab my phone and wallet off my desk, and head downstairs, right into the dining room. Mom and Markeith are at the table playing Rummy. A Saturday morning routine for them. I'm about to speak up, but Mom cuts me off. "Are you three-hundred pounds?" I roll my eyes. She always says this because I have a habit of walking too heavily up or down the stairs. "Mom--" "Are you three-hundred pounds?" "Obviously not," I snap. "Then don't walk like you are," she says, setting a card down on the pile. Markeith grins in my direction before contemplating his next move. "Sorry," I say before asking if I can borrow her car. "Where are you going?" she asks me, not looking at me yet. She seems pretty focused on her cards. "Out." "Out where?" "Just out, Mom," I say. "Work related?" she asks, eyeing Markeith's move curiously. "Damn it!" she exclaims when he sets down three aces with a smug grin, down to one card. "Kinda," I say, hands in my pockets. "Can I?" But she's distracted by Markeith's laughter, playfully cursing him out for hoarding the aces. "Mom!" I say, trying to get her attention. "What?" she asks distractedly. Finally she looks at me and then just waves me off. "Sure, whatever." Sweet. Thank you, Markeith, for helping me avoid more questioning. I just take my leave, grabbing her keys off the kitchen counter and heading straight for the garage. Time to see Danny. It's a perfect day. The sun's out, there are barely any clouds, and it's a dry seventy degrees. That gives me a good feeling about today. And it's nice to have the weather reinforce my positive feelings about Danny. The thought of seeing him again, as usual, excites me to an embarrassing degree. I'm so into this guy. I'm into his energy, his goofiness, his kindness, his sexiness. I can't even count how many loads I've busted thinking about him while jacking off to his pictures or sexts we've sent to each other. He makes me feel comfortable and desirable in a way that I didn't even think was possible. I just feel like a better person around him. He makes me want to give him all of me. Every secret. Every damnable act. Anything that might put me in a bad light, I feel like I could tell him and he wouldn't judge me. Except for the age thing. It kind of kills me to let him believe the lie -- and I don't know how long I can draw it out for, especially since things have been getting serious between us. Serious enough for him to call me his boyfriend. I make the drive over to his apartment, narrowly avoiding a few accidents and wishing I had just sweated it out on my fucking bike. But I manage to find his place okay. It's right on a main street that's lined with tons of different shops. His narrow building is sandwiched between a takeout place and a CVS, with no parking whatsoever. I have to leave my mom's car parked a couple blocks away and then walk back to his building. 2B, he said. I make my way inside, looking curiously at the peeling paint and chipped railings and dusty windows. It's not that this place is decrepit or anything. It's just old and in need of a little maintenance. I'm sure Markeith could fix this place up. Doesn't he do construction? Or is he a teacher? Suddenly I can't remember because I'm distracted by finding myself in front of Danny's door, my heart racing with both excitement and nervousness. I'm about to meet his kid, and I want to make sure I don't fuck anything up somehow. I knock on the door, and I hear Danny's voice shout "It's unlocked!" I take a breath as I open the door, my eyes scanning the place. It's not bad. Clearly he's not "living it up" or anything, but it's a decent place with attempts to make it homey, like photos on the walls and little knickknacks scattered around the tiny dining area and living room. But I don't take in specifics once my eyes land on Danny. I just see his smile from across the room and I find myself shutting the door behind me and walking in as straight of a line as possible, into the small kitchen where he's feeding Riley. I don't even look at the kid. I have one goal: to kiss him. He smirks a bit when I get closer. "Hey, you," he says softly. "Hey, you dumb Brit," I tease, and he laughs before he leans down. Our lips connect and I feel suddenly calm, relaxed, at peace. I smile a little goofily when we pull apart, licking my lips. "Daaaa!" Riley whines, and Danny laughs, remembering that he was in the middle of spoon-feeding his son. "Sorry, buddy," he says apologetically, and I look down at the boy as Danny gives him what he wants. He's adorable. He's at that stage where all babies somewhat look the same, just past that alien newborn stage. He's fucking cute. His cheeks are all fat and rosy, his eyes are wide and sparkling, his hair is sparse like a grandpa's, he's a messy eater, and his thick little fingers are constantly looking for something to grab. I can see a lot of Danny in Riley already. "Say hi to Jax!" Danny says, leaning close to Riley. "Can you say hi?" Riley blinks over at me, and I feel myself soften a bit. I don't know what it is about babies, but I turn into complete mush around them. I want to hold them, rock them, feed them, use the dumbest baby voice I can muster and tell them how cute they are. I think it's because, for whatever reason, babies like me. All my youngest cousins adored me during their first couple of years, and thankfully Riley is no exception. He reaches both hands out towards me and squeezes his fingers into fists repeatedly. I laugh a little, offering my hand, and he grabs one of my fingers like a vice. "Hi there," I say in a small voice. Riley blinks at me again before all of a sudden letting out a spit-filled giggle, making Danny and me laugh. "I think he likes you," Danny says. "He's usually not too keen on strangers." "I'm a baby whisperer," I joke, leaning over a bit to play with Riley. "That'll come in handy," I hear Danny say, and I smirk a bit. I stand with Danny as he feeds Riley, the boy still attached to my finger. While they play airplane with the spoon, Danny and I chat for a bit about his upcoming trip. Tomorrow, he's going all the way to New Mexico for about a week with his parents. I guess they have some "people" out there, and they've been trying to get their son interested in their world by having him tag along on their business ventures. "It's like weird exposure therapy or something," Danny says, rolling his eyes. "It'll be fun to travel though," I remind him. I don't think he's been to New Mexico before. It's hot, but I've heard it's nice there. He chuckles slightly. "You've never traveled with my parents." Eventually we move to the living room and let Riley crawl around on the floor while Danny and I take the couch. It's like watching a kitten at times, seeing Riley absentmindedly play around with his toys. He inspects a few different colored balls before tossing them and then starts banging away at a little Fischer Price keyboard. It's cute to watch, but it's especially nice with Danny keeping a hand on my thigh the whole time. "He really does look just like you," I comment again, switching my gaze from Riley to Danny. He smiles cheekily. "Which means he'll be a handsome devil when he grows up, huh?" I roll my eyes. "Whatever," I say, trying not to smile. Of course, I fail. "I missed you," Danny says. I blink, still finding myself caught off-guard whenever he says things like that. But God, it feels good. "I missed you too," I say back. We haven't seen each other in quite a few days. He's been busy with work, and I've been attempting to find a job myself. "I think I found a gig somewhat nearby," I tell him. He looks intrigued. "Really? Where?" "I forgot what the place is called, but it's that record store just outside of town." "Billie's?" he asks, a grin appearing on his face. "I love that place! How could you not know Billie's?" I shrug. "I don't know. Murph told me about it. I think his cousin owns the place." "Did you interview or something?" "Not yet," I say, shaking my head. "But it could be kinda fun, as far as a job goes." "Just don't steal anything," he says in a teasingly low voice. I don't hesitate to shove him. "Fuck you." He just laughs at me. "I'm kidding," he drawls, putting his arm around me and trying to kiss my cheek. But I push his face away. "Don't kiss me," I say. He smirks. "Don't be mad, baby." Before I can respond, I feel something tugging at my leg, and when I look down, I see that Riley's trying to pull himself up into my lap. My instincts take over, and I reach down, scooping him up from under his armpits and settling him nicely into my lap, to which he gives me a happy little cry. I bounce him up and down gently, smiling when he giggles playfully. "You're a natural," he says, eyeing me with a smile. I just shrug. "I have a lot of young cousins." And maybe this weird energy that babies like. "Mhm," he says skeptically. "Or you're a big softie." "I am not," I say, giving him a threatening glare, but it only makes him laugh. "Mhm. Whatever you say, papito," he says, and his term of endearment both makes me blush and makes me excited. But I keep up the glare, which makes him laugh. "Don't give me that look," he says, amused. "I like that about you." I feel myself getting redder in the face, but the moment is quickly cut short because there's someone at the door. It sounds like someone's struggling to turn the knob before the door bursts open. In comes a short girl carrying what looks to be at least a dozen grocery bags. "Fucking Christ," she mutters, dropping them all heavily by the door and then stretching out her back. "Need help?" Danny asks. "I mean, yeah," she says as if it's obvious. "I need your muscles." Then, when she looks towards Danny as Danny hops off the couch, she notices me. "Hi," she says, raising her eyebrows. I give her a tight-lipped smile. "Hey." "Oh, right," Danny says, almost forgetting introductions. He gestures back and forth between us. "Jess, this is Jax. Jax, Jess." "Nice to meet you," she says with a genuine smile. I nod, but I look at her curiously. Jess... Why does that name sound familiar? I don't know many (if any) Jesses. Part of me wants to ask who she is, but I don't want to come off as rude. I just hold Riley in my lap, watching as Danny helps her with the groceries she brought up. She seems to know where everything goes. Is she his roommate? I get my answer soon, though. She comes into the living room once Riley starts crying lightly. I try to calm him down, but Jess quickly swoops in, saying she'll take him. I just offer him up, and Riley calms down almost instantaneously, even giving Jess a smile as he says "Mama!" in his little voice. Mama? ...God fucking damn it. I feel restless. I keep flipping myself over in bed, attempting to find a comfortable position to brood in. I'm not trying to sleep. It's not even four o'clock yet. But I'm upset, and pissed, and sad, and all I want is for this nauseating ache in my stomach to go the fuck away. My phone vibrates aggressively nearby, and I check who's calling. There's another lurch in my stomach, just above my navel, but I answer Danny anyway. "What?" "I don't want to fight about this," he says. I try my best to swallow my anger, but I have to be honest. "I'm mad." "I know you are," he says calmly. "So let's talk about it." "I don't wanna talk." I'm fully aware that I sound immature, but I can't help it right now. I'm irrational when I get angry, and I don't want to get even more pissed than I already am. "C'mon, Jax," he says with a sigh. "Let me come over or something." "I don't--" "I'm gonna be out of town for a whole week and I don't want to leave things like this." We had our first argument, no more than an hour ago. It was a slow build after Jess showed up. I felt a bit blind-sided by the fact that he's living with the mother of his child. A girl he fucked, impregnated, and is now raising a fucking kid with. And it doesn't help that she's so naturally fucking pretty, with her beachy hair and her perfect smile and her yoga body. It took 0.2 seconds for me to feel completely inadequate compared to her. The fact that he lives with her doesn't sit well with me. At all. I tried to suffer the interaction as long as I could, but after about a half-hour, I couldn't stand being around the both of them simultaneously, seeing them smile at each other, laugh at each other's inside jokes, handle Riley together... It made me sick to my stomach. I sulked for a bit, being almost silent until Jess finally left the room to go shower. Then I rounded in on him. "What the fuck, Danny?" He had a happy expression on his face before I spoke. After, it quickly turned to surprise. "What?" "You live with your ex?" He looked embarrassed as he rubbed the back of his neck. "She's not really my ex, man." Something about the way he said "man" sounded so forced and bugged the fuck out of me. "Why didn't you fucking tell me?" He just blinked a couple times. "Does it... matter?" I scoffed. "Are you kidding?" "We're not together, Jax," he explained, but I just rolled my eyes. "How am I supposed to know?" "Because I told you." He wanted me to trust him. But I didn't know how to do that in that moment. And in the end, I left early. I said goodbye with an insanely, childishly bitter tone and left, ignoring his pleas to stay. Now I'm on the phone with him, debating what to do. I think I'm just scared. He's fucked her at least once already. Who's to say he won't again? She's fucking hot, and I wouldn't blame him for wanting to. I keep telling myself to relax, that it's not a big deal, that Danny's not sleeping with her -- because, deep down, I know that he's not sleeping with her. I'm just insecure. I haven't even really come to terms with my own sexuality, so I'm quick to fault Danny for his and see her as a threat. But those rational thoughts aren't completely calming me down right now. A larger, stronger part of me just wants to be furious, to be the victim, so that I don't feel anxious about potentially being replaced or feel fucking stupid for never making the connection between Danny's roommate and Riley's mother. How did I not think of that? That's really the gist of it, though: I feel fucking dumb. I feel stupid for stressing about his unconventional situation, stupid for forgetting he's made it obvious that he's into me and only me, stupid for projecting my insecurities onto him, stupid for feeling stupid... The list just goes on, it seems like. "Let me see you," he says when I don't respond. "I wanna work this out." But now, after reflecting a bit, I feel too vulnerable. Do I really want to see him right now, with my shell cracked? "I don't know, Danny." "I can come over right now." "No," I say, cutting that option off. "Why not?" "My mom's home." He knows my rule: no coming in the house when she's home. I don't want the two of them meeting in case both of my covers are blown. Mom is not supposed to know I'm gay, and Danny's not supposed to know my real age. "We can talk outside then," he says reasonably. "I don't want to talk right now," I tell him. "But we can ju--" I hang up before he can finish his sentence, tossing my phone to the side. I feel bad, and I don't know what to do right now, so I just go through the motions of the rest of my night. I go downstairs when dinner is ready, eat with my mom and her boyfriend, handle the dishes, spend extra time making sure the counters are squeaky clean, and take an overly long shower. By the time I get back to my room, it's closer to nine. I change into something comfortable to wear to bed, and just as I'm putting on my shirt, I hear a noise that almost makes me shit my fucking pants: a hard knock on my window. I spin around and squint a bit, surprised to see Danny's face through the glass. What the...? I blink, and he beckons me over before I come to the window and slide the pane upwards. "What the fuck are you doing?" I whisper, looking at him. "I came to see you," he says, squatting down a bit. "Through the window?" I ask, looking around. How did he even get up here? I'm on the second floor, and though part of the roof of our porch is just outside my window, you'd need a decent bit of arm strength to pull yourself up. And some luck. "You weren't answering your phone and I didn't want to bust through the door and blow your cover," he says with a slight grin. But his smile disappears when he sees that I'm not amused by his playful jab. He clears his throat. "You gonna let me in?" "Danny--" "Let me in, Jax," he says a little more firmly. I sigh through my nose before stepping aside, letting him climb through the window. I guess as long as he's quiet things won't seem suspicious, but now I feel extra stressed. My mom likes to know exactly who's in the house at all times -- which is fair, since it's her house. But if she happens to walk in (which she's notorious for doing) and see a twenty-one-year-old cooped up in my room with me, things might get awkward. Danny straightens himself out, looking around while he smooths out his shirt. "Cute room," he says. "What do you want?" I demand, rather snippily. Fuck, I'm annoying, aren't I? He looks at me. "I wanna sort this out," he says, sitting himself on the edge of my bed. "Do we have to do this right now?" I ask. "Yes," he says firmly. "Sit down." He cocks his head towards the space next to him, and I hesitate before joining him. I keep a little bit of distance between us though, and I don't really meet his eyes. "For one thing," he starts, "don't walk out on me when I'm trying to talk to you. I don't fuck with that." I feel my face get red with both shame and anger. I don't like being told what to do, or having my flaws staring me in the face, but he's right. "K." He sighs through his nose before continuing. "Second thing: I don't want you to worry about Jess," he says. "It was a one-time thing with us. But we're sticking things out just for Riley's sake, you know?" "I guess," I say. "I wouldn't be seeing you if I was fucking her on the side." I nod. "Right." "I'm being completely real with you, Jax," he says. "Have been since day one." "I know," I say in a small voice, not giving him much to work with. He seems to wait for me to speak. "Talk to me," he says, and after I shrug, he lets out a frustrated sigh. "I don't know what else to tell you," he says. "I mean, I was hoping we would have a conversation." I glance at him but look away when I realize he's staring at me intently. I just sigh, rubbing my forehead. "I'm just insecure," I admit after a long pause. "About?" I shrug. "Myself." I feel really fucking embarrassed admitting this to him. And nervous. I just want to curl up into a ball right now. "I'm sorry," I say softly, putting my hands in my face. I feel Danny sliding closer to me, and when his arm goes around me, my body automatically wants to sink into him. So I let him half-hug me as I put my head against his shoulder. "I don't want you to feel insecure," he says. Usually, I don't when I'm with him. "I'm just fucked up," I say. "You're not fucked up." I grab onto his shirt lightly, tugging on it with my fingers. "I really like you, Danny." He leans over and kisses the top of my head. "I like you too, Jax," he says, giving me a little squeeze. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you specifics. I know how it looks." I relax as I feel his hand slide up and down my back soothingly. "You can trust me, though. And I'm not like, telling you to trust me, but I want you to know that you can. I've been nothing but honest with you." Instead of making me feel better, that actually hurts to hear -- because I haven't given him the same respect. Not completely. It's the least he deserves... And that's why the words slip from my mouth before I think too consciously about them. "I haven't been honest with you." "What?" he asks. "I haven't been honest with you," I repeat, a little more loudly this time. "What do you mean?" I bite my lip a bit, tilting my face into his shoulder a little more and taking a breath. My heart is pounding, and I tense my whole body for how he'll respond. "I'm sixteen." There's a long pause, and then, Danny slides away from me a bit. I look up towards his face, seeing his calculating expression. He looks like he's seeing me for the first time or something. "Are you mad at me?" "I... Um..." He just looks confused, thinking hard as his eyes scan my face. "You're sixteen? Like... sixteen-years-old?" I nod, and then quickly try to deescalate the situation. "It's only two years," I say, hoping he doesn't see it as a big deal. "Yeah, but..." Then he blinks before standing up, running his fingers through his hair. "Fuck!" he groans. "Danny--" "I sent you like, dick pics and everything, man!" he says, looking at me with wide eyes. "We've done shit together!" I feel horrible right now. "I'm sorry." "I could get in serious fucking trouble!" he says, looking worried. I wonder if he could. Even though the age of consent in my state is sixteen, I doubt anyone will like the fact that a twenty-one-year-old has been swapping blowjobs with a sixteen-year-old. Plus there's the sexting issue. I don't know how the age of consent works with nudes. Does that count as child porn? Could Danny be prosecuted along that vein if we were found out? "I don't think you will," I tell him. "What do you know?" he snaps in a voice very unlike him. He seems to notice my expression because he quickly softens and apologizes. "I'm sorry," he says. "I'm just all... This is crazy." He shakes his head a bit. "It's only two years," I say again. "Sixteen and eighteen is a huge fucking difference," Danny says. "I wasn't the same person throughout high school." "So?" I say, squinting. "That's you, not me." "I know, I just..." He struggles to find the words, but I bet I know what he's thinking. Something to do with my age matching how I handle confrontation. He sighs. "I'm just saying, you're too young to know what you want." "Fuck you, Danny," I say immediately, flaring up, hurt by his insinuation. I don't need his assumptions, nor his judgement, because I know what I want: him. "All I'm saying is--" "You don't get to tell me what I know." He opens his mouth to speak but then stops himself, sighing heavily as he sits on the edge of the bed. "You're right. I'm sorry." I expel a deep breath, trying my best to relax, but fuck, I feel overheated. "I'm sorry too." I stare at Danny as he looks down at his lap, wondering what he's thinking. My mind automatically goes to the worst possible conclusion: he'll leave me. After all this good his presence in my life has brought me, I would hate to see it end just because of a number. "Don't leave me," I say, hating the begging tone in my voice. But if that's what it takes, I'll fucking do it. He turns his head towards me, staring for a while, his eyes searching mine. "Jax... I d--" "Don't," I say, interrupting him. I don't want him to continue his sentence. I shift onto my knees, sliding closer to him, and he sighs when he realizes what I'm intending to do. "Hold on--" "No," I say, pulling him in for a kiss. I need to do something physical to remind him that what we have is good. Solid. Our vibe is too comfortable and open and right to just give up on it. At least, that's how I feel. I can only pray that he feels the same. I keep kissing him slowly, hands on his face and the back of his head. I don't want to be vulgar, so I keep my tongue to myself, just moving my lips against his. He kisses back, but it's a little restrained. Then, he takes my wrists, moves them away from his head, and breaks the kiss. "Wait," he says. "I fucked up," I tell him. "I fucked up, and I'm sorry, I should have told you from the beginning." He just clears his throat, nodding slightly, looking like he's searching for words. "I didn't think we'd get this far." He still has his hands on my wrists, and he looks down at them as he strokes them with his thumbs. "I need to think this over," he says finally. That makes me completely, totally, irrationally nervous. "Nothing's different," I tell him. "I'm still me." He smiles sadly. "I know that," he says, but he doesn't sound convinced. Then he gives my hands a squeeze before starting to move. "I should go." "Don't leave," I say, clutching onto him. God, how embarrassing am I? First, I refused to talk to him, and now that I've admitted to lying to him, I don't want to give him space. No wonder he doesn't want to be with me right now. I act my age. "I'll call you, okay?" he says. I sense finality in his voice. That's it, I suppose. I slump, letting go of his hands. He sighs a bit, hesitating before he leans over and pecks me on the lips. Then, I watch him head to the window, step out onto the roof, and disappear into the night. I stay frozen for a moment before I feel it, that fury, rising up inside me. If I could, I'd direct it at myself, right in my fucking jaw. But all I have is a wall. Without even thinking about it, I yell in frustration and throw my fist right through the fucking sheetrock. It doesn't even hurt. That's how much adrenaline is coursing through me. I pull my hand from the hole and lie back on the bed, waiting for the feeling to return to my fingers. We've been playing this damn game for hours, and still, it hasn't lost any of its appeal. Pete and I get intense when we play anything together, especially "Call of Duty," but we do our best to have a good time even though our competitive natures cause us to clash a bit. For me, it's a good way to release some aggression without destroying anything in real life. There's still a hole in my wall from when I threw my fist through it last week. I've covered it up with a poster for the time being so that I don't have to look at it. I hate that it reminds me how volatile and childish I can be. "You're supposed to have my back, you fuckrag," Pete says, hitting my thigh as he struggles to escape the fray. I'm quick to hit him back, driving my knee into his leg. "Shut the fuck up," I mutter, trying to focus. Pete's being overrun with enemies, and I was picking them off one by one from afar to cover him until I myself got attacked. "We're never gonna beat this fucking campaign," he groans. "Step the fuck up then," I challenge. "I swear to God, Jax," he says, but he doesn't really finish his sentence. He leans closer to the television, button-mashing like crazy. Just then, I hear my phone vibrate. I glance at it resting on my bed automatically since I see it light up, and then do a double-take when I see who's calling me: Danny. My heart lurches and, without a second thought, I drop the controller in my lap and pick up the phone. "Hello?" "Hey you," he says, and I smile at hearing his voice. "Hi." "What's up?" "Nothing," I say automatically. "You?" "Not much. I may or may not be back in town." "Are you at your parents'?" I ask. Pete looks over at me, confused before he notices that I've completely abandoned the game. "Dude!" he says. He's right to be pissed. I didn't exactly pause the game. But I'm not even cognizant of the TV right now. All I'm focused on is Danny. "Yeah. I was hoping I could see you." "Want me to come over?" I ask. "If you want to," he says. "I want to," I say quickly, without any hesitation. "Yeah?" "Yes." "Okay," he says. "Come by whenever, then." My chest flutters thinking about seeing Danny. We didn't leave things on the best of notes, but he texted me every now and then when he was in New Mexico. We didn't talk about us, though. Mostly our conversations were about what he was up to across the country, how he was handling the heat, how my interview at the record shop went. Pretty superficial. Beating around the bush. Nothing about our relationship. And I was too afraid to question and pry, so I've been living in total anxiety all week. When I hang up, I realize who I'm with. Pete's looking at me with a curious expression, and I feel my face getting red. I glance at the screen to see that I've died, which means I fucked up our progress again. "You gotta go," I tell him. "Why?" "Because I said so," I say, hopping off the bed. What do I need? Wallet, spare key, phone. "The fuck?" Oh, and shoes. I grab my boots by the door and start putting them on. "I have to go somewhere." "Where?" Pete asks. "Don't be fuckin' nosy." "So you're just ditching me?" I sigh heavily after putting on my second boot. "Can you just fuck off?" I ask, glaring at him. Suddenly his presence is the most irritating obstacle right now. We stare at each other for a solid five seconds before he squints. "Why are you acting all fucking queer right now?" Sometimes I want to punch him. But I just pull an excuse out of my ass. "You can't stay in my house without me. My mom hates you." Which isn't a total lie. She thinks Pete is a delinquent (which she's right about) and a bad influence on me, but she accepts the fact that we're friends. "So you're kicking me out," he says, still looking confused. "Yes!" I say, getting antsy now. I'm ready to go. I need to see Danny, and Pete's holding me back. "Get the fuck out, dude. I'm in a hurry." "Someone better be fuckin' dying," he says, standing up. He keeps muttering under his breath, throwing a mini-tantrum as he scoops up his shoes. He puts them on with a little attitude before eyeing me up and down and then leaving my room. We head out of the house together, both of us grabbing our bikes but heading in opposite directions; once I'm out of the driveway, I veer off to the left without looking back. "Bye!" Pete says with irritation, but I don't respond. I ride a little more intensely than I usually do, and I surprise myself by how winded I am once I get to Danny's street. Not one to embarrass myself, I slow it down and focus on breathing properly. Relax. Fucking chill. I think I'm just nervous as hell. I don't totally know what to expect from Danny, but if he wants to see me, that's probably a good sign... Right? I stop in front of his driveway, looking up at the house. As my eyes focus on the side-door that leads to the furnished basement area, I let my imagination run wild. Which isn't a good thing. I automatically think the worst: that he's inviting me over just to break up with me because he doesn't want to do it over text. I'm too young or too immature or too angry or whatever I'm too much of. Fuck. Maybe this was a mistake. Why couldn't he just tell me over the phone? Make it easy? "Who lives here?" My whole body jolts when I hear Pete's voice behind me, and I snap my head around to see him slowing down on his bike as he peers up at Danny's house. Fucking dick. He followed me. "What the hell are you doing?" "I wanted to see why you were so quick to tell me to fuck off," he says before he looks at me. He cocks his chin towards the house and repeats his question. "Who lives here?" "No one," I tell him, which I now realize only makes things more suspicious. "Go home, Pete." "No," he says, glaring at me again. I hold my ground for as long as I can, but realize that this is a mistake. I don't need worlds colliding. Not right now. I know how Pete acts. He wants to be the all-knowing boss in any situation, and his time takes precedence over anyone else's. He's a stubborn brute and will go to any length to get information out of me, so I make the move to turn around, thinking I could outride Pete and get him off my trail. But of course, Danny emerges from the side door. He must have seen me parked at the end of his driveway. He waves to me and I feel my face getting hot. Fuck off, Pete. Fuck the fuck off. I give Pete one more look before riding up the driveway. I hop off my bike when I'm close to the door and I walk up to Danny. For a moment, he smiles at me a bit before his eyes flicker to over my shoulder. I turn around to see Pete following me still, coming closer and closer. "Can you fuck off?" I tell him. Pete just looks at Danny with mild intrigue. "Who's he?" he asks me, even though he's looking directly at Danny. "I told you. No one." Fuck, why do I keep saying that? I'm just digging a deeper, more curious hole for myself. Pete comes to a halt near me, leaning over the handlebars of his bike all casual-like. It's his way of looking intimidating. "Who are you?" Poor Danny. He's clearly confused, because he looks at me before answering. "Uh... I'm Danny." Pete looks like he's trying to solve a puzzle. "I don't know any Dannys," he says before looking at me. "Who is this guy, J?" "Why the fuck do you care?" "You're being crazy fucking weird, bro." "He's a friend," I say simply, hoping he'll drop it. "A friend, huh?" Pete says, eyeing Danny again. "What kind of friend?" he asks. Even though he's grinning as if teasing, he's veering too close to the truth right now. So now I'm defensive. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" "It means you've been acting weird for a while, man," he says, holding his hands up in mock surrender. I know exactly what he means. I still light up like a little girl whenever I get a text from Danny, and I get super secretive whenever Pete comments on it. "I thought you were pussy-whipped or something and just didn't want to tell me, but..." He looks at Danny again as if sizing him up. Then he laughs, shaking his head. "Never mind." I just glare at him. "You done?" "Don't get so testy," he says, grinning again before he sits up straight in his seat. "I'll go. Hope he's more fun than me, you fucker." "Bye," I say quickly, already turning back towards Danny. But Pete has more to say. "Just don't act so weird about it, J," he adds. "I deadass almost thought you were a fag for a second there." I don't know what it is. How many times have I heard Pete use that word, even against me in some joking manner? Hundreds, I'm sure. But this time, it hurts. It stings. It infuriates me. And before I know it, my body is swiveling around and my fist meets his jaw with practiced precision. He swears after my hand connects with his cheek, and he trips on his bike before falling hard onto the concrete. But I don't stop there. I practically pounce on top of him and deliver two more blows to his face: another to his jaw and one to his nose. Before I can go in for a third, though, something stops me. Danny. I feel his arms wrap around me as he tugs me off of Pete. "Fuuuck," Pete groans, holding his nose as he rolls over onto his side in pain. But I'm fired up. I don't care how he feels right now. "Get the fuck out of here," I tell him, and I even try to kick him. But Danny pulls me back. I grunt, quickly shrugging out of Danny's grip before heading right into his house. My chest is heaving. I'm fuming. I'm upset. I'm embarrassed. I don't know what to do with myself. I kind of want to cry. I don't understand where that sensation is coming from. "Jax?" I turn around and see that Danny has stepped inside and shut the door. I hadn't even noticed. He looks at me with sincere concern in his eyes, and even though the fury takes a backseat, the intensity remains. It's just weirdly replaced by a new feeling: arousal. Extreme fucking arousal. I look at Danny and want to jump his fucking bones. I want to claw his clothes off and gobble up his cock. I want him to pin me down and claim my ass. I want him. I fucking want him. I'm so confused. But I act on it anyway. I step forward quickly and kiss him, pinning him effectively against the door. He grunts hard but I keep my body pressed up against him as I try to make the kiss as deep as possible. But he stops me. "Mmm," he groans, grabbing my arms and holding me back. "Jax, wait." "What?!" I say impatiently. "Shouldn't we... I don't know, talk?" "Why?" I ask. I don't want to talk. I want to fuck. I don't care what he thinks about me wailing on Pete. I don't care what decision he made concerning my age. I want him inside me. So I start kissing him again. "Jax--" "Shut up, Danny," I insist, pressing my lips firmly against him. I moan a bit, driving my crotch against his, feeling that insistent neediness in my groin. I need to be touched, and I need to touch him. To initiate more contact, I move my hands up his torso and grab his shoulders. He winces immediately. "Ow ow ow," he says, pushing me away. "What?" I ask, surprised. He hisses a bit before saying "Sunburn." "Sunburn?" "Yeah." He undoes a few buttons and then pulls the shirt away from the right side of his upper torso, showing me the red shoulder and upper chest area. And all of a sudden, in spite of it all, I start laughing. "It's not funny," he says, but he starts chuckling at my reaction, and soon, I can't stop. I'm clutching my stomach. He looks so fucking silly with his farmer-boy sunburn, but something else is making me laugh irrationally hard. Maybe I just needed a good laugh. I haven't had one of those in a while, and it feels like a more positive way of releasing all this tension I have right now. Soon, our laughs start to die down, and I compose myself as he leans against the door, just looking at me. "Sorry," I say, taking a breath and feeling all sorts of embarrassment. Danny smiles a bit. "You okay?" I bite my lip and nod. "Yeah." Then he cocks his head as he looks down my arm. "How's your hand?" "My hand?" I blink, raising it to my face before I remember: how could I forget? I just wailed on my best friend. "It's fine." Danny nods before turning around and glancing through the little window. "He's gone." "Good," I mutter. "Who was that guy?" he asks me. "A dick," I say, and in spite of it all, Danny smiles. "We gotta get that temper of yours under control." I would love to be a more level-headed person. It's a process -- one that I don't think he could really help me with. But I ignore that and instead become fixated on one word. "We?" He looks down for a moment before reaching out his hand, beckoning me closer to him. I take his hand and let him pull me between his legs as he leans against the door. "I thought about it a lot this week," he says. "I thought about YOU a lot." I look up at him as our bodies nudge each other. "And?" I ask, though judging by the arms around me, I'm guessing it's good news. And that comforts me. He studies my face for a few moments before speaking up. "I just want to know that you're sure about this," he says. "About... us?" I ask. "Yeah," he says. "Maybe it's silly, but I take relationships pretty seriously." "That's not silly," I say softly, wanting to kiss him but holding back for now. "You don't care that I'm sixteen?" He bites his lip a bit. "I would have if you had told me at the beginning," he says. "We probably wouldn't be talking. But... I got to know you before I knew. And that changes things." He smiles slightly, his eyes searching mine. "So," he says, "tell me what you want." I try not to smile, but I can't help it. This is all I needed. The implication is confirmation enough that Danny wants me, and wants to be with me. He probably is still somewhat convinced that I'm too young to know what I want, and in certain regards, I agree with him. But not in this case. "I want you," I say firmly. Danny's smile widens and then he lets out a tiny laugh. "Good answer," he says before leaning down. I quickly meet him halfway, and my eyes close once our lips connect. I slide my arms around him a little more as we kiss and I feel him moan against my lips. I think that little moan (for me, at least) is what switched the kisses from romantic to erotic. Very gradually, we lean into each other more and more. The kisses get a little more heated and breathier, and I can't help but notice the hardness between his legs pressing into me. I feel his hands start to wander a bit more, and eventually, one slides over my ass. He gives it a tentative squeeze, but when I respond with a moan, he grips me harder. I grind into him slightly so that he can feel my hard-on too, and I grip onto him tightly, careful to avoid his sunburn. He pulls back from my lips after a while, pushing me away. At first, I think he's having second thoughts. But then he says "Wanna go to my room?" I just nod, looking at him smiling at me before he takes my hand and leads me to the bedroom. Because this basement is essentially a fully-furnished apartment, there's a bedroom tucked all the way in the back. Danny's parents often have guests stay over, or other family members that may be visiting, but it's most commonly used by Danny. I see an opened suitcase near the bed and raise my eyebrows. Did he not go home first to see Jess and the baby? Does that mean he prioritized me? He pulls me into the room and then shuts the door behind me before grabbing at the hem of my shirt and starting to undress me. I let him strip me, taking off each article of clothing one by one. He does it in a slow, careful, focused way, and once I'm completely naked, he steps back a bit and eyes me up and down. I feel a little embarrassed being nude with my cock sticking straight out until I see Danny biting his lip as he paws at his own crotch. He gives himself a few deep squeezes before his eyes finally meet mine. Then he smiles. "Don't look so shy." "I can't help it," I say, my face feeling warm as I make a half-assed attempt to hide my boner. "I'm naked and you're not." He grins before undoing his shirt buttons and then slowly taking it off of his torso. He drops it to the floor before moving to his shorts. I watch his shorts drop to his ankles, and I eye him closely as he slides his underwear down, stepping out of his clothes and then kicking them to the side. Now we're both completely nude. Nothing to hide. Of course, my eyes find his cock, and I bite my lip a bit when I see that he's just as hard as I am. Danny's eyes go to my groin before he says "Move your hand." I hesitate before slowly moving my hand to the side and completely exposing myself. No guy has ever stared at me the way Danny is right now. Maybe that's why I feel so embarrassed. Any hookup I've been involved in has been very to-the-point: no longing looks or exaggerated foreplay or anything fussy -- just whipping it out and getting it on. But everything's so different with Danny. We ogle each other for a few moments before he steps forward. First, he puts his hands on my hips as he leans in and kisses me, my cock nudging his balls. Then, he slides one hand between us to grip my hard-on. I let out a breathy moan against his lips, feeling him wrap his fingers tightly around my shaft just as his other hand reaches around to give my ass a solid grab. The tips of his fingers are so fucking close to my hole it's like a tease. Touch it, Danny. Take it. He starts shifting us slowly towards the bed, and when I feel the backs of my legs nudge against the mattress, I start leaning backwards. Quickly, I end up on my back with Danny on top of me, kissing me deeply. But soon, he slides away from me, standing up straight and hitting me with a little grin before he looks towards his shorts. I sit up on my elbows as I watch him rummage through his pockets and then pull out his wallet. My hole twitches. If he's getting his wallet, that probably means-- Yep. He pulls out a condom and then drops his wallet back onto his pile of clothes before coming back to bed. He looks me over, yet again soaking in the sight of me. The more he looks at me, the more I want him to look. I want him to stare. I want him to see me. He has this cute little smile on his lips as he pauses before his eyes meet mine. Then, he tosses the condom onto the bed before crawling on top of me again. First, he kisses my lips, keeping it deep and sensual but still tender. Then he moves his lips to my neck, sucking lightly on my skin, and I moan out, totally relaxing my body. He starts to make his way down, body part by body part: collarbone, chest, nipples, stomach, belly button, pubes. Then, with my thighs raised up, he nestles himself between my legs and takes my cock into his mouth. I close my eyes, trying so hard not to moan. I just run my fingers through my hair, holding my hand on top of my head as Danny bobs up and down slowly. His silky tongue mixed with his soft but ticklish facial hair makes everything feel extra erotic. I squirm slightly, reaching down with my other hand to tug on his hair. He pulls off my cock and looks up at me, his lips red and wet, and he smiles a bit as he sticks out his tongue and laps at my sensitive head. Slowly, he goes lower, getting to my balls. He takes them in one at a time, giving them equal treatment with some lapping, kissing, and sucking. I feel almost worshipped, in a way. Danny grips the back of my thighs all of a sudden and quickly pushes them back, causing me to grunt in surprise. Now my ass is exposed to him. I watch as he stares down, licking his lips before moving one hand to my hole and gently petting it with his fingertips. I let out a mewl and his eyes flicker up to mine. He grins. "You've got a cute little hole," he says, watching his fingers circle it. "Shut up," I mutter, my face reddening. He chuckles before leaning closer. I watch him slowly dribble spit down onto my hole, and when he rubs it in with his fingers, I moan even more, closing my eyes. He still has a tight grip on the back of one of my thighs, so I feel totally under his control right now. And I don't mind. This is the only time I ever give up control like this: when I'm about to get fucked. My eyes snap open when I feel his hot breath near my hole, and I barely have time to prepare for his tongue. I swear, willing my body to relax a bit, the sensation almost overwhelming. It's fucking electric. Intense. I feel my cock throbbing in need, and I can't resist reaching up to wrap my fist around it. I give myself slow strokes as Danny gently glides his tongue across my hole repeatedly. Then I feel more of his facial hair adding a competing sensation as he gets into it more. I cry out, my hand sliding up between my thighs to grip his hair and pull him even closer. Deeper, Danny. Slide that tongue even deeper into me. When Danny pulls back, he gasps for breath a bit, licking his lips and panting. "Fuck," he says, leaning down and giving my cheek a playful bite. He kisses that spot before going back to my hole again. This time, his movements are more rapid, sloppily lapping before darting his tongue quickly in and out of me. I'm so warm I feel like I might pass out or something. This feels too good. It's been a long time since I've gotten an actual, solid rimjob like this, and I'm in fucking heaven. Danny pulls away eventually to catch his breath again. This time, he lets go of my thigh, and I rest my backside onto the bed completely. He leans over me to grab the condom packet again and then gets between my legs a little better. What I find weirdly sexy is how intently he stares at me while putting the condom on. He doesn't break eye contact once, like he's daring me to stop him, and I find myself transfixed by his stare. All I can see is his arms moving. I hear the plastic tearing followed by the sound of him rolling the condom onto his cock before breaks eye contact to grab a bottle of lube. After a quick application, he grins at me, leans down, and kisses me softly. He kisses me a few times before looking down between us, reaching for his cock, and then pushing forward. I spread my legs a little more as the head slides in, and I immediately start moaning slightly. Slowly, he pushes in deeper, inch by inch, as if just feeling me out and seeing how I react. Though I'm pretty sure he knows I'm not a virgin, I don't think he knows just how well I can handle it. "All good?" he asks me. I glance up at him and nod, smiling slightly. "Yeah," I say breathlessly. He smiles. "You're fucking sexy," he says, leaning close. I blush and push his face away. "Shut up, Danny." But he grabs my hand and pins it above my head. I swallow as he does the same thing to my other hand too. Now I'm completely at his will. "What are you gonna do now?" he teases as he starts to move his hips. I just don't respond. I'm too distracted by his cock, anyway. I moan, feeling him work his hips back and forth at a steady, mild pace -- not too deep, and with not too much breadth. It's a good way to start things off, especially with him staring down at me so lustfully. He even leans down and starts sucking on my neck, adding enough suction to surely leave a decent bruise. I whimper slightly as he picks up the pace a bit, but it's only by a hair, and after a minute, I want him to take it up a notch. "Harder." He pauses, looking at me and cocking his eyebrow. "Yeah?" "I can take it." He smirks a bit before pulling out. I'm surprised, and momentarily disappointed until he tells me to turn over. I do so quickly, eager to have him back inside me. I'm barely in position when he mounts me and slides himself balls-deep into my ass. I gasp out, clutching the sheets in tight fists. He holds himself in position for a moment as his hands slide up and down my sides before gripping my hips securely. Then, he has at it. He starts off a little slow but quickly rises to a pace that I like: one that has my moans coming out in sharp grunts. He's giving me a longer stride now, too, so I feel the full reach of his cock every time he slides back and forth. My eyes almost roll back, and I almost smile. This is what I've needed for a while, and I'm glad I didn't have to ask for it. In a way, I'm glad Danny's taking charge of this. I can still keep my pride. "Harder," I tell him again. He responds by driving his hips into my ass more, making our skin slap against each other with lewd smacking noises, but I want it even harsher. I want him to take me. To fuck the tension and aggression clean out of me. So I say it again, but I goad him a bit: "Fucking harder." Suddenly, I feel his hand slap my ass with his full palm. I cry out as the smack echoes off the walls, my face flushed but my body feeling so good. He takes it home, now. His hands slide up to my shoulders and he pushes down on me, pinning me against the mattress and having his way with my body. I moan out, biting on the sheets as he pile-drives his cock into me over and over. I almost wish there was a mirror in front of me so I could see how he looks right now. Is he glaring down at me? Does he look super concentrated? I know he looks fucking sexy, though, while he's owning me, and using me, and making me feel so fucking good. Danny grunts and then leans his head down against the back of my neck. "Nnng, I'm gonna cum," he murmurs. I reach behind me and grab the back of his head, curling my fingers in his hair. He leans in, hugging me slightly as he focuses his hips and bucks. I tense up to hold back my moans, because I want to hear Danny cum. I want to listen to his grunts, his heavy breaths, and that sexy, deep moan of his as he pushes himself deep and reaches orgasm. I feel him trembling slightly, his breath getting caught in his throat a few times until the sensation passes. Then, he lets out a long, steady breath. I have to catch my breath too. I'm fucking panting like a dog, feeling dazed but pleased. Danny's roughness with me turns to tenderness as he grinds slowly against my ass and kisses my shoulders gently. "You feel so fucking good," he whispers. I tilt my head as he plants little kisses on my neck, and I smile in a satisfied way. It's been a while since I've had a fuck as good as this -- though maybe it's just because it's Danny. He pushes himself up and then slowly pulls himself out of my ass. And then, he swears. "Are you fucking kidding?" he says, and when I look back inquiringly, he says "The condom fucking broke." I look down between his legs and see that the head of his cock is sticking out of the condom, dripping a long string of cum from the tip. That means he dumped his load inside me. "Why does this always happen to me?" he says to himself, laughing in disbelief as he pulls off the latex. So this happens to him a lot? At least, enough for him to make that comment. I wonder if that's how he got Jess pregnant -- with a busted condom. He must have a shitty brand or something because I've never had this issue. "Maybe you fucked me too hard," I tease. He looks up at me, cocking one eyebrow. "Well, you asked for it." I grin slightly. I did ask for it. And I got just what I wanted -- and with an added surprise: a load of cum in my ass. Maybe it's just me, but I find it particularly hot that he finished inside of me... It's not something I've ever done before, and it's made even more erotic by the fact that that wasn't his intention. Danny sighs when he gets the condom off of him, holding it up for a moment before tossing it to the side. "Well... Sorry for that." "Don't be," I tell him. "It's kinda hot." He chuckles a bit, rubbing the back of my thighs. "You're kinda hot," he says back, leaning down and kissing the very bottom of my spine. It sounds like he's inhaling through his nose, taking in my scent as he works his way up before he rests his body on top of me and nudges his cock right between my cheeks. I reach down between me and the mattress and grip my cock, which is rock fucking solid. I let out a little moan as he nips at my ear. "Put it back in," I tell him. "You sure?" he asks after a moment. "You already came in me," I remind him. I just want to feel him again. He doesn't argue with my comment and merely reaches down, grips himself, and pushes back into me slowly until he's buried. I moan out, lifting my ass up a bit to meet his hips as I jerk myself off. I hold myself up in a slight plank, resting on one forearm as I work my dick. "Want me to--?" "Don't move," I snap, focused. I hear Danny chuckle a bit but otherwise, he listens, staying mostly still for me. The only thing he does is gently kiss my upper back. I just want to enjoy this full feeling he's giving me, with the added pleasure of skin meeting skin. It's almost like a high. I stroke my dick fast, working my fist up and down eagerly until I get closer and closer to the edge, remembering his moans in my ear as he accidentally filled me with cum. That's what really drives me to the edge. And I get too close to stop -- I have to cum. I moan out, almost whimpering as my hole clenches on his cock and I spew my load all over the sheets beneath me. I'm quickly exhausted, though, and collapse back onto the bed with Danny on top of me. I feel Danny's fingers in my hair as I catch my breath. "I love how hard you try to hold back your little noises," he teases. "Shut up," I say breathlessly, making a half-assed attempt to hit him. He catches my hand though and then rests it on the bed near my face, going so far as to place his hand over mine and lock our fingers together. It makes me smile. "It's cute," he says, chuckling before kissing my neck softly, his thumb stroking mine. "How you feelin'?" "So fucking good," I say tiredly. "Me too," he says. Then: "I knew you'd make a good bottom." I look back at him. "What's that supposed to mean?" He shrugs, smiling at me. "Nothing. Just, the whole tough guy act." I blush a bit. "It's not an act." Though I wonder if that's true or not. "Mhm," he says with an unconvinced tone. "I can top too, you know," I tell him. He grins. "You're gonna have to show me sometime." I lick my lips a bit as I look at him, but he just keeps smiling at me, so I look away, resting my head against the bed. His body is covering me comfortably, like a heavy weighted blanket, and I almost feel like I could drift off to sleep. But then he speaks up. "I can't believe you're only sixteen," he says in a softer voice. I look at him nervously and he laughs. "I'm just making a comment," he says. "Don't look so worried." I smile a little. "I can't help it," I say. Seems I can't help a lot of things. "I know," he says, leaning forward to kiss me. It's an awkward kiss, since it's hard for me to twist my neck around like that, but it's cute regardless. Then, Danny starts making a move to get up, but I stop him. "No," I say, grabbing his arms and keeping them around me. "But I--" "Don't go anywhere." He laughs a bit before settling into me, sliding his arms around me even more until we're lying together so snugly it's like we're one body. "Alright, alright. I won't go anywhere."