Then
This is how our friendship changed for the first time.
The snow was falling outside, causing me to worry about my mom commuting back home after her shift ended at eleven. I told Charlie I was worried and he tried to reassure me that she would get home safely. The snow accumulation was supposed to be six inches overnight, which he claimed wasn't too bad. He pulled up the weather forecast to try and dispel my fears. It didn't help, but I pretended that watching the weatherman point out the storm on a thermographic map comforted me.
Despite being raised in Connecticut, I never became fully used to the snow. Every year the winter season came in a gust of snow and sleet, making the lake freeze over and become unrecognizable. I hated the cold world, the dangers of driving over black ice, and being trapped at home when it was too snowy to drive. If I was being honest, the winter felt suffocating and frightened me. It took away my ability to get out of my house during heavy snowfall and left me trapped at home. My mom told me that my original people were from a warmer climate and that maybe one day I would find it in myself to move back to Mexico.
"Do you want to watch something on Netflix?" Charlie closed the weather app and dropped his phone down on the sofa. "Sometimes when I'm upset, I watch a horror movie. The people in those films have it so bad, it makes me feel better about whatever situation I'm in."
"I hate when my mom works late shifts." I glanced out the window, into the dark. The lights on the front of the house illuminated the snow as it fell, causing my anxiety to grow as I watched how heavy it was becoming. "I don't like being alone all the time. You'd think it would be fun, but it sucks."
"I get it." When he tucked his hand into the crook of my arm, I didn't pull away. He gave me a tug to try and turn me from the window. "I feel alone a lot, too. I wish I had siblings or a dog. I fucking love dogs. You should get a dog, Lucas."
I looked at him in surprise. "You have two parents. Aren't they usually home?"
"They make me feel more alone." His palm felt warm against my skin. "Sometimes they make me feel like I'm the only person like me."
"Like what?"
He didn't answer me, only dropped his hand and went to sit on the sofa. I watched him tuck his ankles underneath him and pick up the remote, then pat the empty space beside him.
The snow fell.
We already knew we had a snow day the following day and didn't need to go into school. By the time we put on the movie we chose, it was already nine at night. I thought he would be getting ready to walk home, but all he was doing was sinking deeper into my couch as we watched The Shining. He started to get sleepy, his eyelids closing and then fluttering open, his body tilting until his head was leaning against my shoulder.
I don't know what I was thinking when I looked down at him, observing the color of his hair and the way he had his arms wrapped around his body like he was giving himself a hug. His cheek was squished against my shoulder, when I shifted underneath the weight of his head he started awake.
Then we were looking at one another.
"Are you still worried, Lucas?"
"Not as much." I missed the feeling of his head on my shoulder. I could feel the absence of him where the weight had been pressing against my shoulder. "Thanks for hanging out."
"It's cool," he murmured. "I like hanging out."
I looked at his hands and realized I wanted them on me. I wanted him to touch me, stroke me, grab me.
I will take the blame for changing our friendship.
My hand went lightly to the side of his face while we looked at one another, my thumb brushing his lower lip. I cupped his cheek with my hand, my heart stuttering to nearly stop while he leaned into my touch. My thumb slid over his plump lip from his movement. I tested the waters, my eyes flickering down to his mouth as my thumb began to creep to the inside of his lip. I found the warmth inside his mouth when he opened it slightly for me, his lips opening to give me entrance. I wanted to slide my finger into his mouth, all the way to my knuckle to feel what it was like to be inside of him.
"Kiss me." His voice sounded like I was strangling him. "Do it, Lucas. Stop playing me."
His lips were soft underneath mine. They were unmoving when I first kissed him, then pressing into mine as we continued to kiss. I pushed into our kiss and he pushed back. When I put a hand on each of his cheeks to draw him deeper, he came closer. Charlie was receptive to everything I was doing, following my lead perfectly.
"Sorry." I broke away and scooted a few inches away from him. The space between our bodies killed me, but I knew it was for the best. "That was weird."
"No." He was looking at me with an intensity I hadn't seen in him before. "No, that was nice."
The movie droned on behind us as we came rushing together.
I accidentally bumped his forehead with mine, causing us to both laugh. My lips felt bloated from his kisses and nipping teeth. Our chests crashed together, our elbows knocking as our hands reached.
I liked the feeling of the hard lines of his body underneath mine when I came over him. There was no softness to Charlie's body, unlike the girls I had been with. I realized I liked this difference.
Underneath me he was breathing heavily, his eyes filled with trepidation and longing. It never crossed my mind that it might be an experience he never had. I knew Charlie had sex before, it was obvious when he gave me head.
"Am I a good kisser?" He sounded worried when he asked this.
It seemed like a childish question for him to ask, but I didn't laugh at him or make him feel bad about it. "Yes." I tangled my hands in his hair, my face inches above his. "Amazing."
I moved slower and became more tender. I could tell Charlie wanted to be led and I didn't want to rush him too fast. The snow subdued me, the way it fell in soft blankets. I could feel his pulse and the warmth emitting from his body. He was alive underneath my hands, responding to my touch with tiny sounds and small movements.
I took him to my bedroom, where he sat on my bed. I pulled my shirt over my head while he watched, color blooming on his pale cheeks at the sight of my bare torso. Clumsily, I took off my jeans, getting them caught on my ankles. When I was finally wearing only my underwear, I crawled over to him and gently pushed him onto his back.
He squirmed when I began to unbutton his pants and started to tug them down. It looked like he was feeling unsure while I was undressing him.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah," he said quietly, helping me take his pants off. I dropped them onto the floor on top of my pile of clothing, then began to rub his erection over his underwear.
"Let's take off all our clothes." I gasped at the feeling when his hand first met my crotch. "Take off your sweater."
He hesitated. "You want to see me naked?"
I groaned as his hand continued to rub. As soon as we had entered my bedroom I was already rock hard, all it took was his kisses. There was something entirely erotic about Charlie, from his plush lips to his blue eyes.
"Yes, yes. I want to touch you and for you to touch me." I was getting excited. "I want to see all of you."
"Okay." I could hear him swallow hard. "Okay. Yeah." It sounded like he was trying to hype himself up about being naked.
He scooted up from underneath me and sat, his hands trembling as he found the hemline of his bulky sweater and began to expose his torso. In one swift movement, he had taken it off and dropped it to the floor, parts of him exposed that I had never seen before. He crossed his arms tightly around himself at first, then slowly let them fall to his sides.
Charlie didn't have eczema.
On his forearm was a word, carved there forever in his skin. It was written in jagged white scars, the edges pink. Though it was healed, the sight was absolutely disgusting, as if it was a fresh wound bleeding profusely. It wasn't a word I was familiar with: faggot.
Inside of his arms, there were scars I recognized as burns, the fragile skin mottled and flushed. It looked like someone had held an iron to his body, the marks placed in neat patches. There were a few more thin scars on his upper arms, ones that took confusing shape.
He ducked his head, staring down at his naked torso in shame. I watched while he started to play with a loose string on my quilt, pulling it anxiously as I gazed upon him.
"Wow," I breathed.
He looked at me in surprise.
"You're beautiful," I told him gently. "Look at you, Charlie. I'm really turned on by you."
"Are you being serious?" He was making this face like he was going to cry. "Don't fuck with me."
"I wouldn't fuck with you," I said, trying to reassure him as I came over and kissed him again. My hands ran over the scars and his abdomen, down his groin to lightly brush his most sensitive area. I kissed the ugly word. I pulled his arm from his side to kiss the inside of it, over the blemishes.
Finally, my hand slid underneath the elastic of his underwear.
"Let's have sex," he gasped out when I grasped his cock. "I want to do it with you."
The bedside lamp was giving the room a soft glow, bathing us in yellow light. Charlie looked ethereal in the light, his lips parted and his eyes glassy and wet. I watched the way his face changed as my hand moved, a color spreading across his pale cheeks. I could touch him forever if he let me.
"Okay, I would really like that. I have condoms. I don't have lube, but I have vaseline."
"Alright." His hand was on mine, guiding it a so continued to stroke him. "You can be on top, I don't mind."
I tried to be as careful as I could. He moved with expectation, turning over onto his stomach and lying still while I fumbled with a condom wrapper. I tried not to think about the way he tensed when I moved his legs further apart and began to dip my fingers inside him, trying to massage him until he was loosened up. At first, there was no sound from him, but as I began to curl my fingers he started to whimper into the pillow.
I wasn't sure what I was doing or how to make him comfortable. My movements were slow, despite the feeling of urgency I felt now that he was lying naked before me. I knew going too quickly would make him panic, I could tell by the way he was still avoiding eye contact.
Charlie's behavior didn't strike me as entirely strange back then; I thought maybe he just hadn't been sexually active for a while.
"How does that feel?"
He nodded.
"Why don't you lay on your back? That way I can look at you." I didn't like the lack of eye contact from him and was longing for a deeper sense of connection.
"You want to look at me?" He sounded bewildered. "Like, instead of doing it from the back?"
I flipped him over, giving him a reassuring smile instead of an answer. Once I had positioned myself between his legs, he instantaneously lifted his hips for me to slip inside of him.
"Wait a minute."' My hand crept back between his legs, my fingers carefully working. "Let's loosen you up a little more."
"Oh." He looked at me in confusion. "Why?"
"Because..." I almost couldn't believe I was having this conversation. "I don't want to hurt you. You're super tight, which is nice, but I want to prepare you."
"Thank you." He gave me a flustered look. "I think I'm going to touch myself while you do that."
It's always awkward the first time. With Charlie, it wasn't. I don't know why. Maybe it's because we moved slowly as if we were buried underneath the snow. Maybe it's because I didn't want it to end. Maybe it's because I'd spent hours staring at him when he sat on my front porch and I felt that made me know him well. Maybe it's because I was more attuned to him than I'd ever been attuned to anyone else in my life; hyperfocused on his facial expressions and the way he arched his back when I first pushed into him.
When I first entered him, he made a pained noise. I stayed still, afraid to begin to move despite how terribly I wanted to start thrusting as fast as I could. There was anxiety throughout his rigid body, running like an undercurrent beneath his skin.
"Do you want me to stop?" I asked in concern. "I can pull out if it hurts too much."
"No, don't stop." His determination and the stubborn expression on his face surprised me. "I need to be able to do this."
"Alright." I wanted him so badly, that I could barely breathe under the weight of my desire. "Let me know if you want to stop. I'll be gentle," I promised. "I won't hurt you."
I touched his mutilated arms, his lips, his dick, and then I started moving when he began to relax beneath my touch. I realized at the moment that I began to find a rhythm and our bodies fit together, that I would forever compare every other person I slept with to him. I'd never experienced a longing this strong before and I didn't know that I ever would again.
"Do you like this?" I asked him, even though I knew the answer. I was thrusting as shallowly as I could, my movements slow because that was what was getting the best reaction from him. I didn't attempt to go all the way in or deeper because I knew it would hurt him too much.
"Yes," he moaned. "Yes."
"Good." I felt triumphant at the sound of his pleasure. "I'm going to make you finish."'
I watched the way his mouth parted while he panted, his eyes closing only to open and gaze into mine. His fingers tightened around my ass, a shudder rolling through his body.
"Keep moving like that," he whimpered. "Please. I'm going to cum."
I kissed him feverishly, my tongue sliding between his lips and hitting the upper row of his teeth. "There you go," I said into the warm cavity of his mouth. "Don't be shy."
His body went stiff and one of his hands found mine, his fingers twisting as he threw his head back with a final groan. At the sight, I felt a familiar throb that meant I was going to climax, which I did immediately after him. It was better than any of the other times I'd had sex, the relief after my release completely numbing.
I felt like I'd been killed and resurrected on my twin-sized mattress. I laid on top of him after, going flaccid inside of him while I tried to fill my lungs with much needed air. Underneath me he began to laugh in astonishment, his chest rising and falling with frantic breaths.
"Holy shit Lucas," he wheezed.
"Was that good?" I felt desperate for his approval.
"Yeah." He laid limply on his side after I peeled myself off of him. "That was incredible."
"Oh, good." I couldn't help but grin triumphantly, a grin that was met by his own. "It sounded like you enjoyed it," I said teasingly.
He gave me a sheepish look and I ran my thumb over his cheek at the sight.
"I'm going to go clean up, you can just relax."
"It doesn't look like the snow is going to let up." He glanced out the window, at the swirling white contrasting against the darkness beyond the light from my window.
"Do you want to stay over? I don't think you should walk home."
"Is that okay?"
I nodded. "Yeah. You can borrow some sweatpants."
We cleaned ourselves and changed into comfortable clothing. I gave him a sweatshirt without him needing to ask because I knew he didn't want his arms to be showing when my mom came home. I hate to admit that I didn't want to see his bare arms all night, either.
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Author's note: here's a peek into how everything started up between Lucas & Charlie!