There's a First Time for Everything

Chapter 1: Well, That's A First

"Wat," says Tine, "my family had a dog once that liked to chase cars."

Sarawat's brain parses that sentence once, twice, three times. And nope, he still can't make heads or tails of it.

"Are you drunker than I realized?" he asks, bewildered. He does a quick mental count of the drinks they'd downed with their friends before adjourning here to Sarawat's apartment, tallying only three for him and two for Tine the entire evening.

Tine sighs and sits up—which is exactly what Sarawat did not want, because damn it he's waited for what feels like an eternity to have Tine stretched out on his bed, eagerly responding to his kisses. What went wrong? They'd been kissing for an hour, and judging by Tine's enticing little moans Sarawat hadn't been doing a half bad job of it either.

So why have they stopped? How the hell are they suddenly talking about family pets?

"Not drunk, no," Tine says, "but my lips are getting sore and I think we need to talk."

Sarawat stares at him. "About...dogs?"

"No, Saraleo, about sex. The dog is a—a metaphor."

Sarawat sits up too, heart suddenly pounding jackrabbit fast. "Tine, if I did something wrong—"

Tine silences him with the gentle touch of a forefinger to his lips. "You didn't, OK? It was all good." He smiles then, that sweet mouth Sarawat adores quirking up at the corners as his cheeks flush pink. "Better than good. You're an incredible kisser, Wat."

"But?"

"This is where the dog comes in." Tine draws a deep breath and Sarawat can't help noticing that yes, those gorgeous lips do look almost painfully kiss-reddened. He still wants to bite them, though.

"The one that liked to chase cars."

"Right. The thing is...he didn't know what to do when he finally caught one."

Oh. Oh.

Now it's Sarawat's turn to blush. "I'm the dog in this scenario, right?"

Tine ducks his head, the soft forelock of his hair falling over one eyebrow—and how, Sarawat wonders helplessly, is every single small thing this boy does so heartbreakingly beautiful? It's more than his poor smitten heart can bear.

"Sarawat," Tine says softly, "are you a virgin?"

Sarawat closes his eyes. And nods.

"How could you tell?" he asks.

"Well, we've been kissing all this time and you never moved your hands lower than my nipples."

"Hey, I've been waiting forever to get my hands on those boobs," Sarawat jokes weakly. He opens his eyes again, risking a peek at Tine, and is rewarded with a teasing little smile.

"Yes, I know," Tine says with a long-suffering sigh. "By now I think the entire campus knows about your fetish for my boobs, you pervert. But you didn't even slip your hands under my shirt."

Was I supposed to? Sarawat wonders. Am I allowed to? Is that second base? He has no fucking clue—and that's exactly Tine's point, isn't it?

Shit. He really is the car-chasing dog.

"It didn't get run over and die, did it?" he asks suspiciously. "The dog?"

Tine laughs and takes his hands, squeezing them reassuringly. "No, it just hung by its teeth from the rear bumper for a couple of blocks before it had to let go."

Sarawat's eyes flicker speculatively in the direction of Tine's ass. "Oh? How far does this metaphor extend, exactly?"

Tine snorts but doesn't take the bait. Instead he shifts position to sit cross-legged on the mattress facing Sarawat, bringing his hands up to cup Sarawat's face. Sarawat leans in to the light pressure of those slender fingers on his cheek, turning his head to nuzzle at one palm.