Duck and cover. (On hold. Do not start reading.)

Almost first

The drive home was awkward and slow, almost as if he was driving slower on purpose. It seemed to take twice as long just to get half way home. "Troye?"

"Yeah?"

"I haven't ever- well, you know.." He whispered out, blushing.

"I don't know," I mused out, enjoying how awkward and fidgety he got. "Please, elaborate on what it is you haven't-"

"I haven't ever fucked anyone. Or been fucked," He grumbled.

"Awe, Tilly, we don't have to do anything you don't wanna do."

"I want you to tell me about your dream."

"But Tilly-"

"It's important. It's important to you, obviously, because it haunts you. And it's important to me because I need to know you trust me."

"I do trust you! It's just.. It's my past. Can't we just leave it there?"

"Babe, look at me," He demanded, grabbing onto my hand. He kept glancing my way, worry obvious in his face. "I know this is hard, trust me. But please, please tell me," I took a deep breath, knowing he was right. He was absolutely right. So I told him. I told him everything. Everything from my dad beating me to my mom being a drunk bastard to my cutting. I told him about the dream, about how scared I was when I woke up. I also told him how I was honestly worried that some part of that dream was true. "You think I'd use you?" He asked, dumbfounded.

"No! No, it's just- he hurt me. And I-"

"What do I have to do to make you believe I'm here for you? That I won't use you?"

"I-I don't- I mean, I'm sorry!" He pulled over, we were still a good fifteen minutes away from home.

"Troye Sivan, I am not using you," He leaned in and kissed me. "Not using you," He said again as he kissed my jaw. "Not. Using. You," He said between kisses. "Still not using you," He pulled down my shirt, just a bit, and began sucking on my collar bone, undoubtedly leaving a deep purple mark.

"Tilly-" I gasped when he licked the shell of my ear.

"Still not using you," He growled.

"Tilly, can I- I mean- fuck!" I moaned when he kissed just below my ear.

"What do you want me to do, Troye?" He asked, his voice beginning to drop and get gravely.

"I want you to-" Suddenly his phone went off.

"Shit. I'm sorry," He said, throwing me an apologetic smile as he fished his phone out of his pocket. "Hello?" He asked, slightly annoyed. "Yes, this is he... Oh! Hello, Mrs. Mellet! No no, we're fine... You what?... Oh, we were just out getting food... Yeah, he's fine... No, no ones been over.. Of course!... Alright, will do... You too. Bye!" He laughed, hanging up the phone. "She's very blunt. 'Did he have someone over to fuck him?' Exactly her words!" He cackled, raising his voice to almost match my mothers.

"Oh, the irony," I mused.

"Are you saying you're gonna have me fuck you when we get home?" He asked.

"A round or two, yes," I said. "Let's get going. The car isn't too romantic either," He quickly started the car, pulling back onto the road and driving us home, speeding most the way there.