Sol’s already shoving at the clothes I’m still wearing. I lost my shirt a while ago and he makes short work of the rest. Wraps his hand around my dick and my eyes roll to the back of my fucking skull.
“That a yes?”
“Yes. Fuck me, Jack. I need you so much.”
He doesn’t have to need me. I’m right here. In his bed, sheets already twisted around us, pillows everywhere.
Sol’s bed is shoved into the corner of his room. I grab lube from his bedside table and roll him to face the wall, bracing my palm on the painted bricks.
He goes with it so easily. Breath catching as I align us and inch inside him from behind,carefuluntil I feel him relax around me, curving around him from our feet to where I bury my face in his neck.
And then I fuck him with the slowest grind of my hips, holding him pinned between me and the wall. Keeping him steady while the bed shifts beneath us. Deep inside him. Deliberate. Only pressing harder when he asks me to. Only fucking him faster when his cock begins to pulse in my hand.
The wall keeps me from crushing him.
But only just.
Because despite my best intentions, what Sol seems to want—what his body keeps straining for—is the weight of me. The pressure. The certainty that I’m here and not going anywhere.
So I give it to him, roll him onto his belly, and hold him there as I keep driving inside him until the world disappears. Until he comes with a shiver and a low, wretched cry that sends me tumbling into the sweetest abyss.
Sweet because he’s right there with me. His body is so tired, but something happens as we come. New magic coalesces and we fall into mind-blowing sync.
I don’t know when it ends.
Just that it doesn’t for the longest time and when I drift back to earth, I’m still inside him.
Still on top of him.
I kiss his neck and ease back, tipping him over so I can see him.
His face.
His eyes.
His dazed smile that turns speculative the longer he shines it at me.
“What are you smirking about?”
“I’m not smirking. I’m thinking—” Sol yawns. It’s so sudden it seems to shock him, but I’m too curious to laugh at him.
“Thinking then. About what?”
“About how you’re so good at man sex when you’ve barely ever done it before.”
“Good, eh?”
“Beyond good, Jackie. Trust me.”
I do trust him. And I don’t even mind that he has a lifetime of fucking other people to compare it to. Reckon I know the answerto his pondering too. But first, I want to know something from him. “What did we do? That first time?”
Sol’s eyes are heavy. And the sweat on our skin is cooling fast. He slips away to the bathroom, then comes back to bed.
I drag the rumpled sheets over us and wait.
Sol nuzzles my cheek and finally—finally—lets go of what he’s been holding all these years. “We kissed a lot. Then you asked me to teach you how to suck my dick. So I did, and eventually we had the most banging sixty-nine. I thought I died when I came. Thought I’d dreamed it, but you were so chill the next morning. You had to go, war was always calling you somewhere else, but you said we’d figure it out, that you wanted to, and that kept me breathing until the sky fell in on us.”
He says it all in one breath and I can see he’s different after. That maybe he’s no longer afraid. And I love that too. “Can’t believe I forgot my first blow job.”