Yes, You Are by Willa Okati
“Are you done?” Coby asked.
Darian glanced over, if not up, at Coby. They’d given up sitting on the edges of their beds pretty soon after the pizza arrived, mostly since they didn’t want their sheets to look like a murder in a marinara factory. So they’d shifted from the bed to the floor, cross-legged in front of Coby’s laptop loaded with every Call of Duty and a few weird-ass alien shoot ‘em up games, beating the electronic shit out of each other between bites. Then, one bite past one too many, they’d slid to the floor and sprawled out like starfish who’d completely failed an attempt to sixty-nine.
Probably looked like idiots, but what the hell. Darian’s pride could take the hit this once. Coby’s cheeks were pink, the tension he carried in his shoulders had mostly melted away, and with all the calories a body like his needed to run packed in there doing their thing, he was damn near content enough to purr.
Looked good on him.
Fuck. Darian looked away, pretending to be fascinated with the pizza box resting on his chest. “Done with this? I’m wearing more than I’ve eaten at this point, so I’d better be.” He flipped the lid closed. He made a disgusted face at the mess on his hands -- when he’d told the shop they wanted a train wreck of everything bad and good and delicious and filling on a crust, they’d taken him seriously. “Take this away before either of us hurts ourselves.”
He tossed the box frisbee-style at Coby, who groaned but laughed as he caught it and sent it skidding bumpily across the floor toward the kitchen. “There. Away.”
“Out of sight, but not mind.”
“I know how to fix that.” Coby flailed an arm around until he found the bottle of tequila, carefully capped when the pizza came and set aside for later and waved it at Darian. “Think you can fit some of this in there?”
“You think you want to watch me do a technicolor yawn?”
“A what, now?” Coby laughed harder, then rolled on his side and groaned through the laughter. “Oh God, don’t, you’re going to make me hurl now.”
“Then lie down like a sane person and digest already, dipshit.” Darian crooked his fingers. “And pass that bottle over here. I’ll fucking well make room.”
Coby shook his head, but his arms were long enough to stretch across the distance between them and shove the tequila at him. He dropped bonelessly to the floor afterward, stretching luxuriously and contentedly. “Don’t say you didn’t warn yourself.”
“Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.” Darian crossed his arms behind his head and kept his gaze tilted Coby’s direction, sizing him up while the Omega was distracted. And that was fucked up right there. Coby wasn’t just a gender, Goddamn it. Darian scowled at himself and that Alpha hindbrain of his that kept on beating its chest regardless.
But Coby did look better now. Less ragged, less raw, more like -- hell, like someone was looking out for him, taking care of him. Wasn’t as hard as Darian had thought, on the very few occasions he’d idled the maybe someday I might want to with someone idea around. A little pizza, a little shooting the shit, a little booze.
Kind of fun. No, actually fun.
Weird as hell.
He liked it.
Darian eyed the tequila bottle thoughtfully. On a night like this with anyone else -- Oscar, say -- he’d have figured the hell with it and poured a shot. Or two. Or three. But that had been excellent pizza, messy or not, and he didn’t want to bring it up for a second look, and who knew if Coby was a sympathetic puker? Then he’d have to start from scratch with getting some calories into the guy, and one carb banquet had already stretched his credit card to its breaking point.
But there were other options.
Putting the bottle aside, Darian patted his pockets until he found the vape pen he’d lifted from Oscar earlier, clicked it on, and took an analytical drag that he let out with a satisfied sound. Yup. So that was why Oscar was wearing his wiser-than-thou philosopher’s hat earlier: boy had been baked like a cookie. What he had in there was so not tobacco based.
He could hear Coby sniffing. “Is that what I think it is?”
“Probably. Try it and find out.” Darian figured out a way to eel himself around where he and Coby were mostly at the same head level, about one of his arm’s lengths apart, and offered him the pen. “You ever had some of the good stuff before?”
“No. Is that what this is?” Coby took the pen between two fingers, looking dubious and wrinkling his nose. “It kind of smells like… it smells bad. Almost like boiling broccoli or skunk spray.”
Darian snorted. “You haven’t smoked much, have you? That’s not skunky weed. That’s the good shit, or at least it’s the best a guy can find on short notice. Or steal.”
“Huh.” Coby had to figure out how the pen worked, but once he had it down he took a thoughtful drag and only coughed a couple of times. His eyes went wide and dazed. “Holy shit.”
“Hell yeah.” Darian stretched out his legs, pointing his toes. They’d lost their boots and sneakers, and while the floor was cold it felt good on his bare feet. “Smoke ‘em if you’ve got ‘em, boys. Good life tip.”
“And pass it back.”
Coby made a sure, if you want gesture and handed the pen over. Once again, his fingers brushed Darian’s. Darian was ready for it this time and held himself still, but he couldn’t miss what that little bit of contact did for Coby: he shivered, curled briefly in on himself, and his muscles quaked on the exhale.
Goddamn, that poor guy. How long had it been since anyone had touched him without him having to get all tense about what they wanted? Darian doubted his family would’ve gone near him after he presented Omega -- probably thought it was catching or some such stupid shit -- and anyone else would have been on the prowl, looking to get their dicks deep and wet.
Someone in the room was growling under their breath -- wait. Damn. It was him, and Coby had heard it too and was giving him the oddest look.
Way to prove he wasn’t like other boys. Darian shrugged it off with an irritated jerk. C’mon, be better than this. “Why teaching?” he asked, grabbing a topic partly purely out of the blue and partly because he’d been curious. “I know why I wanted to be a teacher. I like showing people they don’t know as much as they think, and how things actually are. But you?”
“You mean, since teachers are mostly Omegas, why did I want to go into this when I thought I was going to be an Alpha?” Coby asked frankly.
Darian raised one shoulder. Since you put it that way…
He watched Coby take the question seriously, lifting himself to rest his elbow on the floor and his chin in one hand, thinking. A comma of dark blond hair flipped down over his forehead, making Darian’s fingertips itch to nudge it back into place.
He didn’t. Last thing Coby needed was another horndog Alpha fixated as fuck on his ass even though -- fuck it, fine, Darian wasn’t into lying to himself and he wanted his cock as deep in Coby as he could go, but that wasn’t what Coby needed. He needed a friend, damn it, so all that gotta-fuck-gotta-fuck-gotta-fuck could go ahead and piss off, mkay?
Not that it’d be easy.
“I want to be a teacher now because I know, in my head, I’m not the only one like me,” Coby said slowly. “Even if I feel that way most of the time. Not this minute, but…” He glanced almost shyly at Darian, quick-and-gone. “I wanted to teach Alphas they don’t have to be animals and say ‘oh, we were born this way, can’t help it.’”
“You can do that either way. Walk into a room, and you’re your own best example.”
“Yeah. That’s the hard part.” Coby looked down, mouth twisted. “I still can’t wrap my brain around most of it, and I’ve tried, Darian, I swear to you I’ve tried. It’s nothing like… what was it like for you?” He cocked his head. “When you, uh…”
“Grew a few extra inches of dick overnight and my voice dropped about as many octaves?”
Coby chuckled. “I always liked the way you put things. No sugarcoating.” His fingertips strayed slowly toward Darian until they touched the edge of his sleeve and stayed there, idly playing with the fabric. From there he drifted downward, tracing a pattern on the back of Darian’s hand. “Tell me?”
Darian wasn’t entirely sure he knew he was doing it. Problem was, whether he knew it or not, having him so close, his scent pooling in the shared air between them, was going to make the issue hard to avoid pretty soon.
Hard. Ha. Like that wasn’t an issue already. Whatever happened to whiskey dick when you needed it? Did tequila not do the same thing?
“I think…” He looked up at the ceiling, gathering his words. “I think it wasn’t much like what you went through. I woke up, took a deep breath, and thought oh. Okay, now it makes sense. Then I went apeshit for a while, had the sense to find a friend who was willing to fuck me blind and stupid and back into my right mind, got my shit together, and then I was still the same old me again. Only now I knew why I’d always been like that.”
Silence fell, broken only by the soft shushing noise of Coby’s fingers moving lightly across his. Without his permission, Darian’s hand flexed, and somehow Coby took that as permission to link them lightly together. He still looked so faraway, though. Darian couldn’t tell and Coby’s scent wasn’t giving away much in the way of hints.
“Did you learn to control that?” Darian asked. “Most Omegas can’t.”
“Mm. Seemed safer. You’re right. It wasn’t like that for me. I woke up that first day…” Coby’s eyelids fluttered shut and he swallowed hard. “I woke up wet. You know? I thought it was the dream I’d been having… it wasn’t. I’d… opened. I reached down looking for those inches and I found this tight pocket between my balls and my ass instead, all puffy and swollen and --”
He shuddered to a stop, lip caught hard between his teeth -- and would you look at that, he didn’t have perfect control over his scent. Memories of what that must have felt like damn near wafted out of his pores.
“I fucked myself on my own fingers,” Coby said in a rush, eyes shut tight and cheeks red. “I came, and I fucked myself some more, and I came, and I came. I made the biggest mess, and I made the whole house stink like we were renting rooms by the hour.”
Darian scowled. Yeah, he bet he knew who’d phrased it like that, and if he ever crossed paths with any member of Coby’s family they were going to have some words nobody but him would enjoy. And by words, he meant punches being thrown, but whatever. Coby wasn’t done yet.
God, Coby had started panting. Darian watched him, a little awed. What did that feel like, for an Omega? An Alpha wanted to give, give, give, but an Omega -- did they walk around with that kind of hunger gnawing at them all the time? Alphas could take the edge off with willing partners, but did Omegas dream, every night, of being fucked until they were satisfied? When they did fuck, was it enough?
He licked his lips. “And then?”
Coby dropped his head onto his forearm. He shifted his hips, trying to be subtle about it, but a man that big couldn’t hide it when he’d gone hard. “Checked into a strip motel and fucked myself until I was coming dry. I put on a hoodie big enough to hide my face and went into a shop and bought some things, and they still weren’t enough.” His hips shifted, and the smell of Omega arousal grew stronger. “Nothing ever was.”
It was already a hot night, but Darian’s skin went warm and damp with sweat. He rested his hand on Coby’s forearm to ground him. “Okay. That sucked.”
Coby snorted. “Tell me about it.”
“But it was different the first time you had an Alpha,” Darian said. “That helped some, didn’t it?”
Coby went very, very still, and very, very quiet.
Darian didn’t get it at first. Every now and then he could be slow, and pizza/tequila/pot/being horny as hell didn’t do his brain many favors. When he did, he jerked back before he could stop himself, because damn it, he could feel the sharp spike of embarrassment coming from Coby right away at that.
He wasn’t. He couldn’t be. A man who looked like that, Omega or not --
Darian opened his mouth to ask anyway and caught himself barely a breath away from blurting it out like an asshole. He tapped one fingertip on Coby’s forearm to get his attention, to let him know he might have been surprised, but for shit’s sake, not judging. Who the fuck was he to judge?
But he did need to know this, because everything else that hadn’t made sense before would now, if he was right.
“You’ve never been with anyone, have you?” Darian lifted himself on his elbow because he needed to look down at Coby and study him when he answered. “Open your eyes. Look at me. You’ve never had sex, have you? Real sex.”
Coby shook his head. “Who’d want me?”
“Anybody with half a working brain,” Darian snapped back. “I told you before. You’re not a freak.” He slid upward a few more inches to take Coby’s chin in his hand, wanting that attention fixed good and firm on him. With the height difference between them that meant his leg came up too and slipped between Coby’s, but he didn’t pay it any real mind. “You. Are not. A freak. Maybe you don’t believe yourself when you say that, but you’d better believe me. Get that?”
Coby’s mouth had fallen open as Darian spoke, and Darian thought at first it was the speech. And maybe it was. In part.
But a small part.
Slowly, uncertainly -- and Darian had plenty of time to move out of the way, dumbass, he didn’t know why he didn’t -- Coby let his legs slide apart, easing Darian down into the cradle between them. His hand shook as he reached up to slide his fingers through Darian’s hair, and the way he looked at Darian made Darian wish he’d been a better person.
He absolutely hadn’t. He caught Coby’s wrist and though he wasn’t strong enough to move his arm out of the way, he could keep him from moving forward. “Don’t.”
Hurt flashed over Coby’s face, but he came back quick. He was learning. “Why not?” He twisted his wrist free, not that Darian had been holding it all that hard and slid his fingers through Darian’s hair. “I want --”
“Your hormones want. Big difference.”
“Not from here.” Coby licked his lips. For someone who hadn’t managed to make eye contact less than a day before, he sure had a handle on it now. “I want you.” He lifted one knee, bringing it between them and barely against Darian’s crotch. Still shy, but not nearly as shy as would be smart, he flexed his thigh muscles just enough to hint at a ride. “You want me too.”
“No shit I do. Doesn’t mean it’s a good idea.”
“Why not? I told you, I don’t know anything. But I want to learn.” Coby rubbed his thumb behind Darian’s ear, looking at him like he was special or some kind of shit. “I want you to teach me.”
Darian leaned back out of Coby’s touch and raked at his own hair, but too riveted to look away from him. Judas fuck, he was an Alpha’s wet dream. Hot-blooded and hard and from the smell of him, easing open. Pink and willing and on the edge of begging for it. “You don’t want me to teach you this.”
For fuck’s sake. Darian grabbed both of Coby’s wrists, squeezing hard this time. “Okay, why? Why me?”
“Because you know how to be true to yourself.”
“Yeah. An Alpha.”
“I know.” Coby was winding him in, slowly, inch by inch, with those long arms; somehow, he’d ended up lying on his back again, but he’d brought Darian with him until Darian had to brace his forearms on the floor and they were nearly nose to nose. “You can’t teach me how to be an Omega. But I can find out what it’s like to be an Omega from someone who gives a damn. And…”
He lost his words then, shaking his head instead, pleading with Darian to understand.
The bitch of it was that Darian did. He closed his eyes, letting everything going on here play through his head. Coby wanted someone who could teach him how to be true to himself, and glad to be that way no matter what anyone else thought -- rough like him, or sweet like Coby was on the inside.
“Don’t make me beg,” Coby said, moving so that Darian settled between the cradle of his legs. “But if I have to, I will.”
He would too. Darian couldn’t answer that out loud, and did the only thing he could instead, the thing he’d wanted to since the day they’d fucking met if he was honest with himself: he brought their heads together, put his mouth to Coby’s, and kissed him with everything he had. Kissed the hell out of him and didn’t stop.
No turning back now for either of them.
* * *
Coby arched up, kissing back -- and fuck, he really was a virgin. Darian hadn’t been kissed like that since before he’d met the guy, all uncertain slides and tentative tongue and zigging left when he should zig right. Clumsy as hell, and he knew it. He broke away, his face cherry red. “I told you I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“That’s all right,” Darian said. “I do.”
Because he wanted to -- and now he was letting himself want, he really wanted to -- he kissed Coby again, teaching him like he’d promised this time. How to tilt his head, how to give way, when to push back. The way tongues should slide and stroke instead of blindly jab, the way teeth didn’t have to crack against each other. How to go deep, and wet, and to copy what it felt like to fuck and be fucked.
God -- damn it. Darian’d had a purpose in mind when he started this. He distinctly remembered that but following through took more than he’d thought it would. He waited for Coby to be good and out of breath before he took hold of the man’s wrists and held both hard, jolting him out of the moment on purpose. “One of the things I know is when to set some ground rules. That happens first. Understand?”
Coby was strong enough to fight back, but there were instincts there too, and he didn’t. He let Darian pin him and stared up with his eyes wide enough to see the whites around those gold irises. “You didn’t strike me as the type.”
Fuck, a man could drown in eyes like…
Darian shook it off. Focus, damn it.
“I’m whatever type I want to be when I want it. There’s things you need to know, and I need to know you know.” He made sure Coby was tracking before he went on. “You and me, this isn’t the usual. We’ve got history and chemistry and matching hard-ons, but I’m not looking to fall in love with anyone. What you’re feeling right now? That’s hormones. Don’t go thinking you’re in love with me. All right?”
Had to be said. Good sex, if you wanted it to be good, had to come with hard truths sometimes.
Hurt flashed across his face, but Coby had enough sense and sanity in left amidst all the endorphins that it passed fast, and he moved his head to say okay, he got it, they were on the same page. “And?”
Darian put a finger to Coby’s lips. “And let me finish. I’m only going to say this once, because my God.” He rolled his hips down to check and make sure he’d assessed the situation correctly and had he ever. “Let me tell you from someone who knows, you’ve got a monster cock for an Omega and I’m seriously about to either drill you through the damn floor or flip over and ask to get drilled, so we’ve got a limited window here.”
Coby groaned and matched his grind down with a roll up before he got control of himself. Except for hands that shook, he did his best statue impersonation -- if statues could go pulsing, soaking wet between their legs, anyway. “Don’t say things like that.”
“Not into that?”
“Fuck you, I didn’t say that. I just don’t want this to be over before it starts.”
Hmm. That’d do nice things for any man’s ego, but fair point. Darian had never really liked going to town on someone who’d already blown their load. Felt too much like making use of a sex doll to him.
Not that he had to worry too much about it with Coby, not when Coby was the type to grin at him, full of mischief, and who knew how to play. The quick bastard caught the finger Darian had put to his lips, drew it into his mouth to suckle on it, then bit.
Fuck, and while he was at it, hot damn.
Darian rolled his hips down again against Coby’s groin -- seriously, any Omega or Alpha would have been proud of that kind of dick -- and yeah, they were setting a rhythm but it was good and slow, promising instead of delivering, and it kept them both hot without boiling over. Still, he tugged his finger loose and rapped Coby sharply on the nose. “Bad dog. Rule one: condoms. Both of us. Not negotiable. I’m not getting you pregnant.”
Another flash of hurt -- instincts again -- was followed by a flicker of horror, and then wryness. “Oh God. Can you imagine?”
All too damn well, and that was the problem because what the hell, Darian was so not into the daddy thing unless he was on his knees for someone with a hairy chest and a leather crop.
Moving on. “Rule two: no strings. You want to learn, and I’ll teach. We stay on good terms outside of this.”
To his surprise, Coby shook his head. “Friends,” he said. “We’re friends. Call it what it is.”
Darian wrangled that over inside his head. They didn’t know each other well enough to be friends yet, but… that didn’t make it not true. What even?
“Friends,” he agreed. “Friends who do this when they want.”
“Good.” Coby’s mouth curved up. He stretched out one long leg and hooked it over Darian’s, lazy but with intent. He’d be an octopus lay, all miles of arms and legs and Darian was very there for that. “Friends who do this whenever, as in more than once?”
“As long as one of them isn’t a pushy bottom from the jump and gives the teacher a chance to actually fucking teach.” Darian drew his wet finger down Coby’s chin, his throat, and his chest, down and down and down. “That’s rule three. I lead, you follow.”
Coby bit his lip, briefly uncertain. “If I can. If I’m okay with what you want.”
“That right there? That was the right answer.” Darian lifted Coby’s chin. Confidence sat better on his face than doubt, and that was all part of the lesson plan. “Whenever you can’t follow, you say ‘no’ or ‘stop’ or ‘I’ll fucking twist your nuts off if you don’t quit it.’”
Coby covered his face, laughing too hard to even think about developing a case of nerves now. “Oh my God. Okay. Fine.”
“Good.” Darian kissed him again, because some temptations weren’t made to be resisted and Coby had the sweetest mouth now he was learning how to use it. “Lie still.”
“Shush.” Darian lifted Coby’s hands above his head, wrists together, and pressed down. “Keep them there, out of the playing field.”
“Pushy question-asking bottom. Because I need room to work.” Darian studied Coby’s shirt, gave it a good sharp tug, and grinned fiercely when it ripped at the collar. Cheap cotton, easy to shred threads on once he’d gotten it started, and he parted that motherfucker like the Red Sea with his hands and his teeth, letting it come apart and fall at Coby’s sides.
Now that was a stare of awe that he’d fucking earned. Coby lifted his hands carefully and put them at Darian’s hips, a hard flex of his fingers the only clue -- besides his silence -- that he’d gotten too turned on to speak.
But that begged the question… Where to start? Coby had a hell of a lot of real estate to explore on him, and Darian hadn’t been with someone so much taller and broader before. Made him feel like a wildcat stuck on a redwood branch -- and good God, a man could hope that’d happen in the next round or two, anyway. Darian bent his head to press his nose to the soft spot under Coby’s jaw and breathed in deep, thoroughly satisfied when Coby gave a helpless grunt and jerked up.
Scent. That was what he wanted. What Coby would want too. “Breathe me in,” he said, pushing himself back and down inch by inch, scenting everywhere he went. Muskier at the pits, but good musk overlaid with a hint of soap. Darian had to taste that, no choice about it, and flickered the tip of his tongue wherever he wanted to put his tongue -- first, second, didn’t matter. Coby lay beneath him, but he couldn’t stop moving his hips and it made the way he smelled even more lush. Darian could have gotten drunk off it, for fuck’s sake.
But he’d better watch that and keep his head in the game. He’d gotten his dick wet plenty of times, but he’d never broken in a virgin before. Losing his own V-card had been so damn awkward he’d done his best to block it out of his memory and he wanted to give Coby a better experience.
Why? Be-fucking-cause, that was why.
Darian nosed and nuzzled his way down, but deliberately didn’t make contact with anything between waist and thigh. He got plenty of scent, especially when he and Coby wrestled his jeans down and out of the way. Coby kicked them off, putting those miles of leg to good use. Darian took in as deep a breath as he could and held it, savored it.
At first. But when he spread Coby’s legs open, his face good and in the crux of his thigh to get a deeper breath still, a glossy trail of Omega slickness slid down his skin and landed on Darian’s tongue. He swallowed, and -- fuck. Either he’d been with some shitty lays before or he’d had a few fakers, because tasting that damn near made his brain explode. Bursts of color filled his vision like reverse fireworks.
Holy shit. Nope, no turning back now, Darian had to have a taste of everything. He raised himself on his elbows and put his mouth over the bulging head of Coby’s cock to suck hard as he could.
Coby arched up with a cry that made Darian think he’d come, but he wrenched himself back at the last second and panted himself back down.
One word made it out through his ragged breathing: “More.”
Toppy for someone who wanted to take it, but did Darian care? Hell no. He was busy being too breathless himself to object, and far too damn hard to protest. He’d believe Coby hadn’t been with anyone before, it fit his nature, but there was such a thing as natural talent. If he could rev up the engines like this now, what would he be like with some practice?
Darian might not survive that, but it might be worth it.
And -- yes. More, all of the more. He shredded open Coby’s jockeys the same way he had the man’s shirt and got rid of his jeans while he was at it. Shorts could go as well, those wouldn’t be needed, and for good fucking measure his shirt too. They’d lost their socks and shoes somewhere between the tequila and the pizza, getting comfortable, and there wasn’t anything left between them now but sweat, Omega slick, and a matching case of need-to-fuck-right-now-now-now.
They were so close and Coby so wet that Darian really couldn’t have stopped it. His cock slid down into Coby’s cleft, not inside but kissing those hidden lips, rubbing at them and bumping the soft-swollen-open rim. Coby bowed up, arms and legs winding around Darian to clutch him tight. Exactly as Darian had wanted. He pulled back, and best believe that took some effort, and curled his fists against Coby’s chest. Lightly, he scratched faint marks down Coby’s chest. “You good?”
Coby let go to press a hand to his forehead. “Good. So good. Condom. Now.”
“Hurry, hurry, hurry,” Darian chided -- like he was any better off. He genuinely couldn’t stop moving once he forgot to distract himself, and he’d slide right in if he wasn’t careful. No one could have held back for long. Omega bodies were made that way on the regular, and when they were aroused they were like magnets with how they drew an Alpha in. “Fuck. Where did I --”
“God, tell me you have some. I don’t.”
“I’m an Alpha, I always carry at least one.” Darian reached for his jeans, dug through the pockets until he found his wallet and aha, there it was, a foil square so new it still had a shine on the wrapper. He held it up between two fingers, considered, then decided it was Coby’s turn to have a little fun. More fun. He dropped the foil packet on Coby’s chest and sat back with everything on display, loving the way Coby’s pupils dilated until there was barely a rim of gold left to see. “Well?”
Coby swallowed so hard Darian could tell his mouth had started watering, and pulses of slick washed out of him at about the right speed of a heartbeat. They’d have to hose down the damn floor after this but nope, still didn’t care about anything else.
His hands shook as he tore the packet open -- inexperience showed there too but Darian wrestled his patience into the forefront and waited, letting him learn until he got the thing unrolled and, clumsily in a way that made it even better somehow, rolled it down the length of Darian’s dick. “Monster dick yourself,” he rasped when he let go. Then, he bit his lip again. “Don’t laugh.”
Like he could, but Darian shrugged anyway. “Why?”
“Oh God.” Coby’s face went redder still under the sex flush. He touched Darian with one tentative finger, jerking back when Darian jolted at his touch. “How -- how does it fit?”
Darian smoothed his hair back and kissed him one more time. Mmm. “Baby, your body knows the answer. You lie back and let it happen. Or get in the game and help make it happen. Two guesses which one I like better.”
There went Coby’s grin again, and Darian resigned himself to that being an addiction already. “Same one I think I like.”
Good bravado. Darian would have applauded it and probably would later, but -- performance reviews: later. Getting inside Coby: now. “You ready?”
He was, and he wasn’t. Scared out of his mind and desperate at the same time, but still brave. Coby nodded, put his arms around Darian’s shoulder and let his legs fall apart wide enough to give Darian all the room he needed. “Ready.”
Darian made himself move steadily. He positioned himself right where he wanted to be, flush against that wet opening, and nudged. “Getting started feels weird, the first time. Hold on and breathe. I promise you it gets better.”
Slowly as he could, careful as he never had been before, he eased his way inside. Coby grunted and squeezed his eyes and his fists tight shut, but that was natural, that was what it felt like to have someone inside for the first time. Darian went slow, letting Coby adjust, little push by little push until there was nowhere else to go.
Coby’s fists dug into the meat of Darian’s back, and those would be some pretty, pretty bruises later. He panted, almost sobbing, more so when Darian kissed him every-damn-where he could reach because he had to have his mouth on the man. To soothe him too, let him go from too full and tight to slippery-smooth and accommodating.
He unclenched as slowly as Darian had slid in, and in waves that coated them both. Darian bit down on one of Coby’s nipples, surprised and pleased when that made Coby moan and squeeze around him. He slowed from panting to gasping, his gaze wild and dazed and high on adrenaline. Though his mouth moved, no words came out -- but that didn’t matter. Darian could just about read the man’s mind from the look on his face and the movements of his body: I didn’t know it would be like this. I didn’t know I wanted it this much. Don’t stop.
Darian took Coby’s hand, kissed every finger without thinking about it, and moved. Started slow, like before, each stroke a long drag in and out.
“Don’t try to be gentle,” Coby said one word at a time, between breaths. “It’s not you.”
“Want it to be good for you.”
“Already is. I think -- better if it’s harder.” Coby brought his thighs up to cradle and clutch Darian’s hips. “Fuck me like you mean it.”
So help him. Darian did. Deeper, faster, harder. All the brainpower he had left melted out of his ears. The only thing he could concentrate on was how it felt to be inside this man. The way Coby reacted, so Goddamn responsive with wild clutches at him and nails scoring his skin. The heat of Coby’s rapid breathing and the pounding of his heart.
When he started to make desperate noises and his cock throbbed where it was trapped between them, Darian had enough thinking brain left in him to recognize what that meant. He didn’t stop fucking, couldn’t have even if he’d wanted to, but he could take hold of Coby’s cock and pump it in time with his pushes inside. “Come on,” he muttered, over and over. “You can do it, you’re doing so fucking good at this, come on, damn it, let yourself go and come.”
Coby’s back left the floor, only his shoulder blades bracing him there, and bucked like a wild thing. Hot fluid flooded them front and back, and with one more deep, deep, deep shove, Darian let go too. Coby’s startled gasp at what that felt like brought him over a second time, which was a whole new kind of treat, and he stayed right where he was until he’d finished.
Beneath him, Coby shuddered and shook as if battered by a strong southerly wind, but his lips were parted in pure blissed-out satiation until they softened into a disbelieving smile. “I didn’t know,” he said, out loud this time. “I didn’t know.”
Darian rolled his forehead against Coby’s chest. “Mmf.”
Slowly, Coby ran his fingers through Darian’s hair. “Is it like that? Every time?”
Nope. It absolutely wasn’t like that. Darian didn’t say it and didn’t know if Coby could see it written all over him as he propped himself on his elbows, slid out -- carefully, that condom was damned full -- and indulged in one more deep, wet kiss that was the only answer he’d give.
Coby didn’t seem to mind. Nor did he realize, Darian thought, exactly how much trouble they were getting themselves into.
He should have been worried about that, himself. It’d be sane. It’d be savvy.
Yeah. He’d never been good at either of those.