Interstellar

The Protostar

Pro•to•star [proh-toh-stahr]

(n.) A very young star that is still gathering mass from its parent molecular cloud. The protostellar phase is the earliest one in the process of stellar evolution.

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My dad suggested I invited Steve and Sarah- er, Miss Rogers (I always do that, oops) over for dinner. Why? Well, I really don't even know, at this point. Perhaps my dad has a thing for his mom? God, no, that can't be it. Ew, at least I hope it's not.

So, Steve got here probably, like, an hour early so we could hang out before the dinner- or whatever this weird arrangement was supposed to be.

Oh, and, uh, I may have talked to Rebecca beforehand about it, too...

We started out just sitting on my bed, reading a comic. I looked at him with hungry eyes, like I would tear that comic from his hands if I hadn't just bought it new for 10¢.

"Don't," he started, not even looking up from the page.

"Don't what?"

"Look at me like that, Bucky. C'mon," he replied, closing the pages together before placing it in his lap.

"Why the hell not?"

"Because we can't do this with both our parents in the kitchen," he argued.

"Oh, you see, I'm not so sure about that, Stevie."

"How so?"

"Well, the door's shut. Looks to me like we can do whatever we want," I explained, my hand meeting his thigh.

He licked his lips, attempting to maintain his composure... eventually giving in with a little smile. "And if they come in?"

"They won't."

"But if they do?"

"They won't, Steve," I assured him. "They won't."

I leaned into him, planting a singular kiss upon his lips, trying to show him that the idea of being caught made it all that much more exciting. His hand, then, met the side of my face and, with that, I knew it was on.

I pushed myself onto him, making him fall back onto the bed. I landed between his legs on top of him, momentarily pulling our faces apart. He looked at me like he knew damn well what kind of position we were in and what the hell it all meant. I looked back at him like I wanted to know more about this and what it could be for us.

I let my hands move all across his body on top of his shirt, knowing full well that I couldn't take any of his clothes off just yet... there was no way he'd let me so soon.

His pelvis pushed up into mine, making me rethink what I was about to start doing. Oh, to hell with it anyway- I started thrusting down on him with all I had, running my fingers through his hair and dipping my tongue into his mouth.

I felt him grunt between my lips like he couldn't hold it in as he thrusted simultaneously with me. His hands moved from their position on my face and transitioned so that his arms were wrapped around my neck. Hell, even his legs wrapped around my waist.

"Fu- ugh, god, Steve-" I whispered under my breath into his ear as I moved my mouth from his lips to his neck.

I started kissing down and down until I reached his shirt line and- I can't give him another hickey, god. I started thrusting again, bringing my mouth back up to his lips.

I was getting out of breath myself now... even sweating profusely. I could barely even take this anymore. Ugh, and I was so hard that I could swear the damn zipper on my pants was conspiring to kill me.

Then, a knock at the door. My heart stops. "Jimmy," thank god it was Rebecca. "Dad's coming to your room," she said, followed by her little footsteps clicking down the hall as she ran away.

I looked down at him and his face was blushed pink and his neck and lips were beet red from the stubble on my face and his hair was tousled everywhere but, hell, if he wasn't perfect like this-

I reluctantly sat up and he followed my lead. I looked down at him and then at myself, seeing that we had both been way too damn hard for our own good. I fixed his hair quickly as he readjusted himself and picked up the comic book again.

Just then, my dad knocked and opened the door without hesitation. We both looked up from the pages and met his soft, brown eyes. "Dinner's ready," he told us kindly, before he retreated back to the kitchen without closing the door behind him.

I looked over at Steve and he was still out of breath. I smiled. I motioned for him to follow me, and he did, turning the lamp off behind him and closing the door, too.

We all sat around the table, my dad and Miss Rogers at the heads, Rebecca across from me, and Steve on my left.

We were having chicken and corn and mashed potatoes tonight because, to be frank, it was something simple for a lot of people all at once.

It wasn't like we were eating in silence, because the so called 'adults' at the table were talking about current events and weather and such, but it still felt awfully quiet. They were discussing stuff too complex for Rebecca to understand and too boring for me and Steve to get involved in. Oh, and they definitely weren't flirting, so that was good, too.

My eyes met Rebecca's and she sent me that childish smile of hers, those big eyes shining bright and directly at me. I winked at her as a thank you for warning us about dad, and it only made her smile bigger.

I looked down at my plate, realizing there was only one thing at this table I could possibly be hungry for at a time like this, despite how terrible that sounded.

I let my left hand, which had been resting on my leg, travel over to Steve's as he sat right next to me. I saw him hesitate, but slowly just let it happen because we both knew we wanted something right now that wasn't exactly appropriate for a family dinner.

It started just at his knee before I started moving up. He felt tense but, that didn't seem to do much in terms of stopping me. I started groping his inner thigh and moving up and up and up until there was no further to go. I felt him relaxing as continued to eat and, to everyone else, that's all it appeared to be but, to me? God, he was ever-so-obviously distracted.

Luckily, he had been close enough to me that my arm didn't look out of place because I was really going to town with this. And, well, it was working, too. How can I tell? He was rock hard beneath my hand and- it felt like he was holding his breath, too.

"Anyone want more?" my dad asked, standing. I swiftly moved my hand out of the way and back onto my own lap.

"I'm alright, thanks dad," I replied, along with the rest of us agreeing that we were all full.

Steve looked at me. His eyes said a thousand words in that instant. A combination of you know damn well that was way too close and god, I want you to grind on me again and will this dinner ever end so I can just kiss the living daylights out of you?

To which I say, I know and I do, too and hopefully soon, because you know better than anyone I want that just the same.