I would like to append to my earlier statement that making love in the warm isn’t half bad either.

It’s… different, this time; frightening. His lips find mine the moment we reach his apartment. I’m pressed lightly against the wall, his hands at my waist. His frame is so much broader than mine.

I feel caged.

I let out a little whine, and push him back, not actually strong enough to make him stop. But he gets the message. He pulls away.

“Something wrong?” he asks, a light concern alighting across his features. “Not as up for it as you thought?”

“I… I dunno,” I mutter, unsure of why I’m ashamed. “It’s… It… You know I’m not the boy from last night, right? That was… that was me when I thought I’d never see you again. That was me when It didn’t matter. I’m not… not that cool."

Of all the responses he could give, of course he decides to go for a grin.

“Oh jeez,” he laughs. “Are you getting performance anxiety right now? That’s adorable.”

“... Shut up.”

“Nah.”

Then, he’s kissing me again. My lips, my nose, my jaw. It stings. I try to ignore it; the memory of his fist against my face. This is supposed to feel good. Why does it feel wrong?

My fingers slide under his shirt and up along his chest. I catch a glimpse of his wave-suit beneath the clothes.

My heart beats faster, but there’s no pleasure to it. Why am I scared?

I squirm slightly against the wall, trying to ignore the feeling of his body pressing against me. I run my fingers over his shoulders. The muscles used to turn me on.

His fingers find my crotch. Another memory flashes in my head. Him standing in front of a body, looking at me with nought but rage in his eyes.

He stops.

“... You okay?” he asks. “You’re not hard at all.”

For a second, I just stand there, uncertain, small; cornered. Why do I feel so sickened?

My mouth speaks before my brain can find the words.

“Could…” I swallow. “Could you stop being all... big?”

He raises an eyebrow. I almost feel like doing the same. I’m not sure where the words came from. They’re honest, though.

“Uh what?” he asks, confused.

My tongue seems to know more about me than my head right now, so I let it have its way.

“It’s…” I let out a groan. “You’re just big! And tall! And way, way stronger than me! Last night, it was hot... But now I keep getting flashes of you punching me through a door.” I frown, a little dejected. “It’s a scary thing to be making out with.”

Almost immediately, he backs off, once again concerned.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter. “I thought I wanted this.”

He lifts a hand to the back of his head with a chuckle, the sound a little rueful.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“Not your fault,” he mutters. “I have a thing for being the big guy, you know? Kinda forget that the twink doesn’t always feel the same.”

“... Did you just call me a twink?”

He snorts.

“Well, I mean, you are one.”

I scowl.

“Am not,” I mutter. “Twinks are all small and delicate.” He gives me a wry grin, and raises a hand in my general direction. I tell him to shut up again.

For a few minutes, we both just stand there.

“Can you take off the suit?” I ask.

He nods, one hand moving to his wrist, the fabric sliding across his skin as it re-forms back into a watch.

“Better?” he asks.

“... A little.”

Another long silence. He sighs.

“Look,” he murmurs. “If we’re not gonna fuck, can you give me a couple minutes? I gotta go take a shower. Take uh. Take care of a few things.” He gestures vaguely at the lump still visible in his jeans. I snicker. The idea of him taking a lonely rub out session while I wait in the other room is amusing to me for reasons I can’t define. The shower’s barely big enough for him to move around in. I remember how awkward he was in there last night.

Then, I feel a pulse. Arousal. I blush.

‘Yeah,’ murmurs a voice inside my mind. ‘That could work.’

“... Mind if I go in with you?” I ask.

He frowns.

“While I appreciate the offer of fap material, you remember how small my shower is, right?”

“Yeah,” I reply, stifling a giggle. “I remember. I remember you almost knocking us over when you slipped on the shampoo.”

His frown becomes a scowl.

“... Are you teasing me right now?”

I grin.

“Maybe.” Then I step forward, rest my hands against his chest, and give him a push. Once again, I’m not strong enough to move him; but he still shifts, one eyebrow raising as he moves beneath my touch. His back hits the wall. I hold him there, my hands resting lightly across him, and stand on my tiptoes to give him a kiss.

It’s a light kiss. No tongue. Gentler than when he was in control. It takes him a second to respond to it. When I pull away, my cheeks feel warm enough to be on fire.

“You’re hotter when I remember you’re a goof.” I murmur, barely audible.

“You what?”

I roll my eyes.

“Just get in the shower so we can bone.”

“... Okay.”

For a moment, he stays exactly where he is. I wonder why. Then, I remember my hands against his chest, reminding him to stay against the wall. I pull away, the both of us taking a step or two from the wall.

I give him a hug, my arms slipping under his coat to wrap around his chest. He hugs me back, his larger form curling in around me like the world’s biggest, warmest blanket. Then he realizes that I’m trying to remove his jacket.

I call him a dork. He laughs.

We step into the shower still mostly clothed. We only bothered to remove our shoes and coats. Daytime or not, it’s still cold up here.

I turn the tap, and for a moment, the both of us flinch as our clothes are soaked in a spray of freezing water. He holds me while the shower heats. His chest is very warm.

I give him another kiss. It lingers. His hands rub my back through my shirt. The water grows warmer.

We only break apart when I hear David chuckle; a light rumble in the back of his throat.

“What?” I ask, my voice quiet.

He gives me a grin.

“I can feel it on my leg,” he murmurs. “You got hard.”

I smile back, a little shy.

“So what if I did?” I ask. “What’re ya gonna do about it?”

“Oh, you know,” he replies with a snicker, his fingers trailing down my waist towards my jeans. “Just figured I’d say ‘hi.’”

I quirk my eyebrow at that.

“You what?”

He gives me a wink.

“Mind closing your eyes a sec?” he asks, his fingers making short work of my belt, before starting to slide my jeans down around my legs.

I scowl.

“You realize I’m supposed to be in charge today, right?”

“You are!” he laughs. “I promise! I just wanted to give you a surprise!”

I cross my arms and roll my eyes. This dude has no concept of tone. Still. I’m curious. I grudgingly close my eyes.

I feel my briefs being worked down around my knees. I pretend I’m not embarrassed about being exposed and blind in some dude’s shower. His fingers peel back the skin. I hear a few grunts; the rustling as wet fabric shifts in the enclosed space. I feel something at my tip. Is that a thumb? Am I getting a handjob?

‘No… It’s too soft to be his thumb. Is it his di-'

I realize what he’s doing with a short, oddly surprised whine as his tongue slides down something very, very sensitive. I feel his lips wrap gently around me.

I go still. He starts to move.

I try to hold in the moan. I fail. My fingers reach out blindly in the dark. Find his hair. He moves again. My eyes snap open. I let out a noise somewhere between a groan and a hiss, trying to hold it in with just my teeth.

“D-david. Fuck.”

He stops. He looks up at me; his eyes wide; caring. My next move might be a misstep.

“Y-you…” I hesitate, trying and only somewhat failing to regain a measure of composure. I’m meant to be in charge here, dammit. “You uh… You have the captain’s permission to continue!” I try to sound stern. I really, really try.

The sensation as he bursts out laughing around my cock will go down in my memory as the weirdest thing to ever turn me on.

I hope.