What I Love About You | boyxboy

Chapter 6

He stared blankly at me. "You said before you wouldn't fuck me."

I made a face. There he goes ruining the mood I finally had. "I'll only have sex with you if we do it my way." Maybe we're both insane.

"That wasn't the agreement."

He was loosening his way out of my arms so I held him closer to me. "I don't care. I hit you more often than we have sex." Not to mention the way he likes it is tiring and sprouts memories I'd rather not have.

His cheeks were going pink again as I reached my hands under his shirt. We were so close I could feel his breath against my skin and feel his chest rise and fall. We'd done this so many times, but somehow this was the first time he was nervous.

Almost like he wasn't used to a gentle touch.

"S-Sen?" His words were abrupt.

"Mhmm?"

He didn't say anything. Slowly, we made it over to the bed when I undressed him. He reached his hands around the end of my shirt, pulling it up and over my shoulders. It certainly felt different doing this kind of thing in a proper bed, but it also felt more romantic. The way I wanted it. Here, with the light shining through the window, I could see his face as more than just a silhouette fading into black.

This was far nicer. Warmer, even. His bare skin against mine, him facing me, felt nice. I leaned down to him, brushing some hair from his already sweaty face to plant a kiss on his lips. Like the very last time, he accepted it, and our kiss deepened with me finally taking the lead. Our tongues danced together and I bit lightly on his lower lip. The more we did this I realized he actually wasn't a bad kisser. In fact, he might have been better at this than even me. Which wasn't too bad.

I left his mouth, trailing kisses along his jawline and down his stomach. He smelled great. Probably the one of the perks of living fancily wealthy. My showers usually consisted of water, baking soda and vinegar as that was easier to get ahold of. Deodorant wasn't exactly within the budget.

Once I made it to his waist, he flinched.

"W-what are you doing?" He demanded. His voice sounded panicked. "Stop."

He observed him. "But you're hard."

"I don't care!" He covered his face quickly with the blanket. Before I could do anything else he curled in on himself, hiding under the blanket.

I sat up, pulling my boxers back on. "Am I embarrassing you, or something?"

"Can you shut up?" His voice was muffled, but I could still make it out.

I leaned against the wall of the treehouse, bending my leg at the knee. He looked like a scared child under there. "Hey." He didn't move. "Taylor."

"I don't want to talk to you."

"You can tell me if I'm embarrassing you." He remained quiet. "I've been wondering, is this why you always want it as violent as possible? Does romance with another guy embarrass you? You're always going on about how I'm treating you like a woman. I'm not, by the way, I just happen to like romancing my partner more than assaulting them."

He jumped up, glaring at me with a hot face. "We are not partners. So there is no reason for you to be so romantic. As you put it."

"Why do you like pain?" He didn't answer me. "You're living seems to be fine. You're wealthy."

"That doesn't mean a damn thing. It isn't my money."

I stared at him for a while. "When we got here you said your parents wouldn't check the treehouse." He started making a face. "And you were really specific about when I could come over." He started backing away. "Do your parents not like you or something?"