“I mean, that plain, what, olive? sage-colored set more says, ‘This boy has matured. He’s on his becoming-a-man journey.’ It’s not flashy or bold; a neutral color. And your room back at the complex looks like you put a little more effort into decorating. It says, ‘Could very well be from the streets, but in that way where you won’t regret waking up in his room the next morning.’ Honestly, much closer to your actual energy. You aren’t really a navy-sheet boy. Sage-y earth tones for my Taurus sun.”
“That feels like a compliment.”
He steps up close to me, in between my legs, and his hands brush my head, landing at the back of my neck while mine go under his shirt, holding his waist. “It is. I know tóxico. You’re not one of them. Just a little hardheaded sometimes. Stubborn. But, again, that Taurus sun.”
“I feel like, though, I’ve got to admit that Peso Pluma was my number one artist on my Spotify Wrapped. Him, Bad Bunny, Grupo Frontera trinity.”
“Well, if I can look past you raw-dogging Crocs—”
“I’ll raw-dog you too,” I say, a shameless smirk planted across my face, giving him eyes that sayif you’re down, I’m down.
Which only gets me a palm right to the face as Vale pushes my head back. “Pinche futbolistas.”
“Tu futbolista.”
Vale lets out a happy hum as he tilts my head back up to look at him, saying, “Mi futbolista,” before he starts kissing me. His lips go to the top of my head, letting out a quiet laugh when my short hair tickles his skin. My forehead. Near my eyes. The bridge of my nose. My cheeks. His tongue does this thing where it grazes my earlobe and I involuntarily clench my fingers into his skin and do my best to hold in a moan. And, finally, after that tongue glides over my bottom lip, it’s inside my mouth and my hands are inside the back of his shorts.
We can’t stay here for much longer. I realize that. And we shouldn’t be making out when all the people I don’t need knowing about us are only steps away and just on the other side of an unlocked door. Butfuckdid I need this. A reminder I can hold on to whenever we’re busy living whatever fake stories we have to come up with to keep him safe and my future intact.
He backs away, letting out a laugh when I try to follow his mouth all, “Just one more, baby,” until I’m stopped by him putting a hand to my chest. “I won’t get carried away. Lo prometo.”
And he lets me have that one more kiss, and then a few more (because I’ll always get carried away with him), before I’m letting out a sigh, my forehead planting onto Vale’s chest.
“That was nice.”
“I know,” Vale replies with a breathy laugh. “And we’ve got to stay in here for a few more minutes now otherwise everyone will be able to see how nice you thought it was.”
“Can’t help myself when it comes to you.”
He scratches the back of my head, and, honestly, lock the door and let’s stay just like this for a couple hours. And then we can get back to sucking on each other’s tongues and whatever other parts of our bodies our mouths might end up at. Third time’s the charm and all.
Nah. We need to get going. If anything, because I feel my stomach getting needy for some asada.
“Talk to me,” I tell Vale. “I need to be distracted otherwise it’s never going down.”
“Ching—” He sighs, his lips pressing at the top of my head again. “So you’re scared of cavesand rivers?”
“I was akid.”
He laughs, his mouth still pressed to my skin, muffling the sound. “You know, if I didn’t already assume you being an only child in a Mexican family meant you were spoiled, meeting your parents would’ve immediately told me so.”
“I’m notthatspoiled.”
“Spoiled enough. They are really nice, though.”
“Hmm.Yeah. They’re really good people. And they like you a lot.”
I can feel him thinking. The thing about being incredibly into a guy when one of his majors is literally thinking, it becomes easy to realize when he’s getting into a brain hole.
“I … can I ask you something?”
“Always.”
“Do you think they’re the type to be disappointed about you liking a boy? If your dad found out you aren’t just good with the girls.”
Another deep breath in and slowly out and I shake my head. “You want to know a tóxico? Him when he was younger. Player. The stories I’ve heard from his friends and mis tíos. Wild.”
“Well, he is really handsome. I bet when he was our age, he—”
