What the hell am I doing?
I keep asking myself that as I let Evan draw me further into the bed. Evan. My best bud. Evan...who is a guy. This was Evan. EVAN. What the hell did I think I was doing? Why am I kissing him? Why? It was something I needed to find out.
Evan broke the kiss and stared at me. I stared back, wondering why I haven't noticed before how green his eyes were. How they burned bright even in this dim lightening under thick lashes. Damn. Why the hell am I noticing all this now? He had said that homoness wasn't contagious...so why was I feeling this way? Even though he was a guy...why did I find him so damn pretty?
"You changed your mind," his soft voice brought me back from my thoughts. "I knew that you would...it's for the best."
"No," I grasped his wrist, "no. I didn't change my mind."
I shook my head. "I wont."
"You're so stubborn."
"You should know that by now."
My eyes searched his face and frowned. Why the hell did he look so calm? I couldn't tell anything from that stone face of his. What was he thinking? Damn it, why wont he let me in?
I shook my head. I knew that voice. I wasn't going to let him talk me out of this. This was something I felt like I had to do to confirm my own identity. I'm not the kind of guy who keeps running from the truth. If what I felt for Evan was attraction...then so be it.
"I'm going to touch you more," I told him, trying to prepare him when I was actually trying to prepare myself. Touching another guy...a part of my brain told me it was sick. But damn it if an even bigger part wasn't more curious. It didn't make sense. The thought of touching another guy made me feel weird and disgusted. But the thought of just touching Evan...well...that was a different story.
"Go ahead," he said, laying back against the pillows, "touch me."
I stared at his chest to his stomach. I've known that he'd always had an athletic figure, the type that girls drooled over. Taunt muscles, flat abs that was forming a six pack. Yeah, he was a guy alright but for a guy he sure was slender. Of course he was bonier looking than a girl. Girls were softer but still...Evan looked soft.
I found myself reaching out a hand to place a palm against his stomach. I felt him stiffen and I looked up. Evan stared back at me, waiting, watching. Calm and composed as ever. And you know what? That irritates the shit out of me. Makes me want to see a totally different expression on his face, one that he's never shown to others.
What did he look like in the throes of passion? Suddenly, I wanted to find out.
My brows furrowed as I stared at my hand on his stomach. Okay...what do I do now? If he had been a girl I would have fondled her breast until she begged me to stop then keep going. But Evan wasn't a girl. And he didn't have breasts. Not female ones.
"Hold on," I said, "let me think."
"Think about what?"
"How I'm going to start this."
"Do you want me to..."
"No," I shook my head. "I'm doing this." I started it and I sure in the hell will be the one to finish it.
Alright. In the homo comics the guys playing the bottom role always like to have their nipples touched. I glanced at Evan. Would he like that sort of thing? Only one way to find out. I hesitated for a second but went right ahead and brushed a thumb over his right nipple. Almost instantly, they grew hard.
I looked at him under my lashes, checking for any sign of response, any sign of emotion on his face. Evan stared back at me. Damn, he still wasn't showing anything. So I tried again, this time delibratly slowing my pace as I brushed my thumb against his nipple again. This time there was a reaction. Something flashed on his face but was quickly gone.