This chapter contains some sort of but not really smütty stuff, so if you don't feel comfortable with gay stuff, don't read this.
This story was supposed to be a straight story, and it is, for the most part, but I felt like Malum needed to happen.
I paint my nails a lot. They are very rarely not painted, and I don't do just normal colors. I do things like galaxy nails, or newspaper nails.
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Again, I go still, my lips on his. I'm still scared that if I move, he'll move away from me, even though I closed the space between us and he didn't move.
I don't move my lips, and he doesn't move his. We both just stay perfectly still.
Touching in general is bad enough, but two boys touching is unthinkable.
And then, his lips slowly start to move.
I immediately start moving mine against his, and I hesitantly lace my hands in his soft hair.
We're pressed so close together that I can practically feel his racing heart.
He's never even touched anyone before, so it's up to me to show him what to do.
I slowly, ever so slowly, slip my tongue out of my mouth and gently run it across his bottom lip, and his hands fly to my sides, squeezing hard.
I continue to flick my tongue over his incredibly soft lip, until he opens his mouth.
He only opens it the slightest bit, but I manage to get my tongue inside, and once it meets his, I can't help but moan.
I've liked Michael for almost a year now, and finally kissing him is a relief, but also torture, at the pace we're taking it.
But, then he startles me by slipping his hands under the hem of my shirt, and he grips my hips, making me gasp again, and he slowly moves his tongue against mine.
His fingers are a bit cold, and goosebumps rise up on my skin.
Feeling confident, I tug at his shirt, silently asking if I can take it off, and he breaks the kiss, then helps me get it over his head.
Once it's off, both of us stare at each other breathlessly for a few seconds.
His lips are red and swollen, and his pupils are so blown, that I can only see a sliver of green around them.
He tugs my shirt up and laughs at how it gets stuck on my head.
"Why is this shirt so tight?" he asks, and we finally get it over my head.
"It's Xyla's." I kiss him again, and he immediately kisses back. He moves forward, causing me to stumble back and fall on the bed, and he climbs on top of me, never breaking the kiss.
"Michael, are you here?" I hear Ashton ask.
Before I can even comprehend what's happening, Michael has gotten off of me and pushed me off of the bed.
My thighs scream in pain as I hit the floor, and I bite my lip to hold in a whimper.
Michael throws his shirt on, then gives me an apologetic look.
"Sorry," he says. "I don't want Ashton to see you."
He'd pushed me to the side of his bed that was facing a wall, so unless Ash walks over here, he won't see me.
I lay down on my stomach and watch from under the bed, the concrete floor cold against my bare skin.
"In here," Michael says, climbing back on his bed.
