Opposites (boyxboy)

Things Will Never Be The Same Again

I'd decided to stop fooling around with Dask a year earlier, because it'd seemed like the right thing to do, at the time. The past year, I'd done whatever I could to forget about what we use to do together, trying to stick with what I thought, at the time, was the best decision for us. Somehow, I'd managed each day, to not give into temptation.

I'd tried to put our experiences out of my head, but sometimes it was all I could think about. Sharing a room with him, a bed at that, hadn't made it easy to stay away from him. Spending every day of our vacation together, on an isolated island, urged me closer to him. Dreaming about him and being able to feel him, in that way again, had me practically hyperventilating at the thought of being close to him again. I found myself aching to touch him in ways I hadn't let myself in so long, and reminded of all the things I'd thought about doing to him, as well as all of the things we'd done previously.

Now, having him so close, pinned underneath me on the ground, I couldn't remember in that moment, the reasons I'd stopped messing about with him in the first place, or the reasons I'd given myself to not touch him again. The possibility to do what I'd been wanting to, for so long, seemed to open up, right in front of me. I didn't even seem to decide what I was going to do, it just felt like it happened.

My body remembered how to mold itself into his, enjoying his warmth and enveloped by his familiar smell, which was both exciting and comforting to me, at the same time. His body underneath mine, every part of our bodies pressed together, electrified by his touch, sensitive to his closeness, responsive to any of his slight movements. I was excited, wanting to do anything and everything to make it last, and be closer to him still.

My eyes were pulled towards his full, plump lips, all soft and pillowy looking. They were tantalisingly close, mere inches away, ripe for kissing. Lips I'd been dreaming about for the past year.

He looked up at me with his soft blue eyes, clear and beautiful, that spoke a language that seemed to beg me to come closer to him, to initiate something, anything so that we could be close again.

I leaned down and gently brushed his soft lips underneath mine. His plump lips gave way, and softly molded to my own. His mouth was sweet, and his breath was warm, his taste intoxicated my senses. He trembled beneath me, quiet moans escaping from the back of his throat.

I pulled back a little, trying to gage his reaction. It'd seemed like he'd wanted it, but I could have been wrong. His face was flushed, his lips were red. His eyes were dark with want, flickering between my eyes and lips. I was breathless at the sight of him.

"Do you know how long I've wanted to do that?" I asked.

He shook his head.

"Feels like forever," I whispered. Then I leaned down and kissed him again.

We got caught up in each other and the kiss became more passionate. But then, as quick as it started, and all too quick for me, he gently pushed me away.

I was confused, as I looked down at him. He'd wanted me to kiss him, right? He'd wanted something. The way he'd looked up at me burned with some kind of want, I was sure of it, as sure as I'd ever been of anything. But now, he was looking up at me with a mixture of fear, confusion and a hint of accusation in his eyes.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

I didn't know what to say. I stumbled over my words as I tried to gather my thoughts. "I...we...you...I," I was confused. I didn't know had we gone from passionately kissing each other and perfectly molding ourselves together, to him being unhappy, angry even. "I just thought..."

"What? That I wanted some guy to kiss me?" There was no denying his anger. He gently, but firmly, pushed me to the side, so he could stand up, and brushed himself off.