10:01pm. My bedroom. Where the hell was he? Surely he'd be here by now, unless he'd bombed me off. Or forgotten. Or worse yet, this meant nothing to him and he just couldn't be bothered to show. He probably thinks I'm a thirsty bitch and wants nothing to do with me. I wouldn't blame him. I mean, look at me. I sat perched at the edge of my bed, twiddling my thumbs, buckets of sweat trickling down my forehead. If you couldn't already tell, I was pretty nervous. I'd never done anything like this before, not even with a girl.
The house was deathly silent. My parents were in bed, so was Bobby, and Steph was out with her friends and most likely wouldn't be back until at least 3am. That gave me plenty of time to have a good fuck before I kicked that silver-haired bastard out of my life for good. I'd realise my curiosity towards dicks is just a phase and I will be able to move on with my normal life that had seemed to run away from me in the last few of years. He'd be out my mind for good. No more Finley Renolds. No more sarcastic twat. No more smart-arse comments. Just me and a long line of pussy following my every step.
10:04pm. Now he was definitely considered late. And he had no excuse either. It's not like there's going to be traffic at this time of night. My blood was fizzing out of control. I felt like I could pop at any given moment. No, scratch that, I felt like I was going to spew. How dare he be so care-free as I sit here bordering a mental breakdown? How did he do it anyway? He didn't seem bothered about anything. Despite all the shit he's experienced, he seems practically invincible. I'm jealous. I'm jealous of his smoothness. I'm jealous of his finesse. Heck, I'm jealous of how effortlessly his lips crack into a smile.
That might be why I feel so drawn to him; I want to be him. And there's me thinking I'm gay, huh. Idiot. But then... that kiss. Wow. I've never felt such sharp impulses of passion and lust before. I've never felt so alive. So then... I must be gay? Or bi? But then, girls just make me cringe more than anything. I guess we'll see in about an hour or two.
Just then, my phone pinged from my bedside table. It was a text from Jessie, Finn's carer. It read: "Hey Zak, just dropped off Finn. He's at the front door now". I typed a quick "okay" and was soon creeping down the stairs to let him in.
When I opened the door, he was stood with his hands shoved in a pair of black skin-tight jeans and a grey hood was hanging over his head. He looked good. Really good. "Hi," I whispered.
"Why are you being so quiet? You're gonna be screaming with pleasure in less than ten minutes anyway," he smirked.
"Ya' know, I can quite easily just leave you here on my porch with no ride home, if that's what you really want," I shrugged, dryly.
"I'd like to see you try."
"See?"
"Fuck off."
"Hahaha, come in, shithead," I chuckled. He followed me inside and up the stairs to my room. At least he wasn't able to look at the mess I'd forgotten to clean up earlier.
"So...." he said, clicking his tongue.
"Erm... yeah, uh, what do you, um, do when you, like... umm.." God, he knows I'm nervous. He's figured me out. He's laughing at me on the inside. He thinks I'm a retard with no life.
"Zak..." he walked up closer to me, dropping his walking stick and interlocking our fingers together. "Calm down," he kissed the chowie (hickey) he'd left earlier, very tenderly. "Gather your thoughts," he moved higher up my neck. "And breathe." By this point, he had latched his lips onto mine and was kissing me like I was a priceless artefact. His hands let go of my own and snaked their way up to cup my cheeks, pulling me in closer. I lost myself in the feeling. It was soft, yet passionate. Warm, but not quite hot. It just felt nice. And I was scared.
I didn't want to feel this way. I didn't want to melt in his touch. But then I did. I yearned for the feeling of his fingers tracing over my skin or his teeth sinking into my lips.
His hands dropped back down and slipped under my Adidas shirt. They were cold as they stroked along my well-defined stomach. I jerked at first, but soon leant into it. I didn't notice him pushing us over to the bed until the back of my knees hit the metal and we collapsed on the duvet. His body was light on top of mine. It molded perfectly as if it was made to be in that position.
I moaned quietly, which made Finley moan, too. "Enjoying it so far?" He murmered, parting our lips for a few moments to catch his breath.
"I guess," I winked cockily.
He laughed before crashing our lips together once again. He felt so perfect. He was so perfect. This whole thing just felt good. I can't even put into words how I was feeling. Now I know what people mean when they talk about Heaven.
But that was when it sunk in. I snapped back into reality, suddenly painfully aware of my shirt on the floor and the bulge in my trackies (sweatpants). I leapt up off my bed, pulling Finn up with me. I was gasping for air. His eyebrows were drawn together in confusion.
"Sorry, I-I..." I couldn't finish my sentence before I burst into tears. I seemed to be doing that a lot lately.
"Ssh, ssh, it's okay." He patted my back, rubbing circles over my shoulder blades. We sat back down on the bed. I noticed he was only wearing a pair of Calvins but I didn't comment on it.
"Fucking hell, man," I cursed, infuriated with my own selfishness. "I'm such a screw up."
"No, you're not, Zak. You're just overwhelmed. I get it. Nothing to be ashamed of."
I didn't say anything else. Instead, I just looked at him with big, puppy-dog eyes. "God, you are perfect. Why would you even want to be near a scumbag like me?"
"Because," he wrapped his arms around my head and pulled me under his chin. "You are perfect, too. You may have your moments but overall you are an incredible person, Zak. Together, we're, like, the dream team," he chuckled.
I smiled. "Thanks. You probably don't wanna go any further now, huh?"
"Believe me, I do. But you're not ready. I think we've already gone further than we need to," Finn whispered.
"Okay." I whispered back.
We ended up cuddling under the duvet listening to music, both having an earphone each, and talking about whatever came to our heads. Despite the fact that we were both only in our boxer briefs, I didn't mind. I may not have had sex with him but spending the time together was just as rewarding. We kept brushing our feet together and I would occassionally comb his silverly locks with my fingertips. His hair was as soft as cotton candy and it smelt like it, too. I loved it.
Finley put on a song for us to listen to, claiming it was his all-time favourite. It was called "She Tastes Like Summer" by Spilt Milk Society. As the song progressed, I found myself getting lost in the sound, until I was completely submerged. I notice Finn shut his eyes, so I assumed he was fallinf asleep. I was, too. My eyes were droopy and the lyrics to the song were scrambling in my head.
I curled up further into Finley, wrapping my legs around his waist. "Goodnight, blue," I uttered.
"Goodnight, Hazel."
Song : 'She Tastes Like Summer' - Spilt Milk Society