Lessons On Kissing Guys (BoyxBoy)

Chapter 7

You'd think that my automatic reaction would be to move my hand and cover the, uh, area on show. But my mind completely stops working as I stand there in utter shock, my face no doubt portraying this as I stare wide-eyed at Blair - gosh, it feels weird actually using his name.

I watch as his eyes trail over my body, feeling overly self-conscious, but not moving out of the way. It completely bewilders me as to why I'm not running away right now, hiding in what I suppose is his closet. But for some reason, I'm completely glued to the spot, which makes not an ounce of sense.

After a few more moments of his gaze attaching itself to every part of my body, I open my mouth, ready to say something, anything, and then get out of here. But as he stands up, I'm silent. Shit. What's he gonna do?

And why the fuck am I even over-thinking this?  I mean, I know I'm not a faggot, so I might as well just laugh it off and leave, maybe go ask to start work a few days early. But for some reason, if there even is a reason at all, I can't fucking move. It's seriously as if someone has placed super glue under my feet that I accidentally happened to have stepped in. Maybe this was all just some trap on Blair's part.

He's way too close to me. I don't like it. But I do. I can't help it, it's as if he's meant to be this close to me. Like I'll go crazy if he doesn't look at me the way he is now, but forever. I swear, I never want his eyes to leave my body, but at the same time, I know this isn't right. Guys shouldn't like guys! It should be fucking illegal or something. But it isn't. Because it isn't actually a bad thing. It's just parents' influence. No, wait, it isn't. It's me. It's knowing what's right and wrong, this is wrong.

Oh fuck it, I can't choose.

And in my ability to not be able to choose, Blair has managed to get miles closer to me. I almost jump back in surprise when I feel his breath fanning my neck. Except, I can't fucking move, so it's more like a tiny jump on the spot, accompanied by a shiver that runs all the way down my spine.

I can't help it. I like it. No girl has ever made me feel this way, this guy is all I can think about and his touch just makes me relish in the fuck loads of pleasure it provides. Except this is wrong. But it isn't wrong. It feels wrong. But in reality, that's just what my parents have taught me. It's what I've grown up with.

Oh, shit, I'm thinking way too much about this. I need to stop thinking about this. As he trails kisses up my neck, over my jaw line, and finally onto my lips, it seems that I have enough of a distraction to just stop thinking about it. Just like that. A click of the fingers, a blink of an eye, and the thoughts are gone.

And by that I mean, I stop thinking about how fucking wrong all this is, or if it's really wrong, if I've been influenced too much, or- Just everything. All my thoughts leave me and all I can think is 'Fuck, this feels good'. And for some reason, I'm perfectly fine with thinking this is good.

After grabbing control of my thoughts, I let myself relax into him, into the kiss, and eventually begin to kiss him back. My thoughts all just escape me as I let my lips follow his lead, until I feel his tongue slip out and slide along my bottom lip. I grant him his wish immediately, allowing him entrance.

Gradually, his body presses up against mine, and I instantly feel much warmer and much... safer? It's weird, feeling safe as another guy wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me closer. Who would've thought- No. It's a good thing. This is good.

Because this is a feeling I could never possibly describe. It's that look in his eyes that I saw as he walked closer and closer to me. It's the feeling I get as his hands trails up my bare back. It's just- It's this. It's this right here. And it's too fucking amazing for words.

And it's making me sound like a fucking idiot.

The thought snaps me out of everything. It makes me wonder what I'm doing here, in the arms of another guy, and why I'm kissing him back, what we're doing. It makes my mind work at full speed once again, but my heart just wants me to stop and let my instinct take over. But right now, I'm kind of finding it hard to distinguish my instinct from my brain. Everything just seems like this huge jumble.

Yet, I can't seem to make myself pull away from him. From his damned lips. From his fucking amazing scent. From him in general. I just can't seem to pull away. I can't open my eyes, remove my lips and step back. I can't do fuck all about this. I just can't help it.

It's like when I saw that girl, who called out at me from her car, and I couldn't resist her, even though it felt wrong. Except this is different. This doesn't feel wrong. Which bewilders me more than the fact that I'm actually doing it.

And now I hate this. I hate this so fucking much, but I can't stop myself from taking part in this kiss. Because it's so fucking irresistable. But, it isn't fucking me. I wish things could be simple again, and I could be partying in clubs (straight clubs) every night, fucking random girls and leaving before the sun rises. I wish I could be getting drunk off sambuca shots and WKD. I wish I could just not be here. But I am. And I can't help myself from being greedy and letting myself kiss this man shameless. Depsite the fact that I'm pretty sure he's at least twenty four. Oh yeah, I should probably ask him about that.

After what feels like an hours worth of kissing, I finally pull back and rest my forehead against his. I let my eyes flutter open, just catching him doing the same, before we just stare at each other, both of us seeming to lose track of time and space and everything.

I'm so far out of my mind right now.

Needing to break the silence, I open my mouth, just letting words flow out; "I'm naked." The statement has me mentally hitting my head against the wall, because I think it was possibly the stupidest thing I could ever say, and well, it's basically the most obvious statement right now.

He chuckles lightly, his eyes closing for a second, and I wonder briefly what images are flashing across his closed eyelids right now. I can only hope they're not of me, and what he saw. When he opens his eyes again, he leans back, taking one step backwards, but he's still so near that I can feel his breath fanning across my cheeks.

His hand weakly lifts as he points towards the closet again, and I finally regain enough sense to remember that I was meant to be going there in the first place. "I'll just..." I don't finish the sentence, grabbing the towel and awkwardly wrapping it around my waist, this time holding it in place as I begin to walk away.

When I feel a hand on my bicep, I stop momentarily, only to feel a rush of air down below as the towel is ripped from my grip. I don't even know what to do, so I just stand there awkwardly with my hands by my side, not exactly sure what to make of this.

His voice startles me ever so slightly, as he whispers; "You look better without it." I can hear his footsteps retreating and the thud of the towel landing somewhere outside the room, before I hear the spring of the mattress, and know that he has just jumped onto his King-sized bed, where he can no doubt have the perfect view of me.

I turn my head slightly, watching him for a moment, before scurrying away to the closet and shutting the door behind me once I'm inside. I suddenly feel five years younger, and it definitely isn't a good thing. Grabbing the first things I can lay my hands on, I throw them on rapidly, one thought reoccuring in my mind as I finally step out of the closet and let my eyes wander back to Blair, where he lays on the bed, turned on his side to watch me as I walk towards him.

Oh fuck, what am I doing?