“Your type?”
“What? No.” Devon clicked the pen and drew a star on the edge of the paper. His heartbeat went all wonky. “You’re pretty much exactly my type except for how you’ve always acted like a little stuck-up shit around me.” He met Carl’s eyes again. “I was going to say you’re not exactly hard to want, so you don’t have to make stuff up.”
“I wasn’t making anything up, but okay, if you don’t want to hear it, I won’t say it again.” Carl’s mouth turned down slightly at the corners, and the blue of his eyes seemed to crystalize a little more.
Oh.
Maybe Carl was a subtle guy and reading him took more effort Devon was used to. The idea that he wasn’t devoid of true emotion was reassuring. Devon cleared his throat, deciding that if all this was going to happen, then he should take charge and act like he knew what he was doing.
He clicked the pen and declared, “First rule for the weekend: If we do fuck, we use condoms—no exceptions.” He wrotecondomson the yellow pad.
“Condoms. No prob.” Carl tapped his fingers on the table in a slow rhythm.
“Second rule for the weekend: we agree to boundaries ahead of time, and we don’t cross them.”
Tap, tap. “Sure.”
Devon said, “Boundary number one: no, means no. Stop means stop.”
“Of course. What else would it mean?”
“Some people like to play games where no doesn’t mean no, and stop doesn’t mean stop, but that should always be made clear in advance—”
“I know, Devon.” Carl’s lips curled up into a small grin. “I’ve watched porn. I’ve read about stuff.”
Devon rolled his eyes. “I just want us both to be clear that everything we do is mutually consensual.”
“I wouldn’t want it any other way.” Carl snatched the pen from his hand and pulled the yellow pad toward him. “Let’s get started,” he said, writing the wordsTHE PLANacross the top of the pad.
“I’ve never been kissed, so I want to learn how,” he said, writingkissingat the top. “I’ve never sucked cock, and I want to be good at it, so—”cocksuckingappeared beneath kissing. “And reciprocation there would be great.” He drew a two-way arrow beside it. “Fucking, obviously, topping and bottoming.” He drew an up and down arrow. “Rimming. I’ve seen it in porn. Not sure how I feel about it? Is it gross?”
“It feels amazing, but if you don’t want to do it—”
“Rimming,” he said, writing it also with a two-way arrow and a question mark.
“Put down fingering,” Devon said. “You’ll want to get good at that. If you can finger a guy well, then he’ll be eager for whatever else you want to do with him, I promise. And you’ll want to experience it yourself too.”
Fingering went on the list.
“And then I guess I want to put it all together.” Carl drew a circle around it all. “Do you have any objections? Do you consent to teaching me all of this?”
“You’re such a control freak,” Devon said, pulling the pen away and adding at the bottom,Lose control.“That’s the goal for the weekend. I want to see you lose it.”
“All right,” Carl said, and his voice was low and throaty. His pupils had gone wide and dark. It occurred to Devon that Carl hadn’t stuttered even once since he’d taken hold of the pen. “Can we start now?”
“One more thing: nipple play. Guys either really like it or don’t much care for it, but we should give it a go.”
“Whatever you want to do to me is fine,” Carl said. “If you want to lick the backs of my knees, I’ll let you. I just want you to touch me, Devon.”
Nipple play went on the list, as Devon’s heart beat triple time and his cock thudded against his jeans.
“Never been kissed, huh?” he asked in a whisper.
Carl shook his head and leaned forward. “Kiss me.”
Devon stood, the front of his jeans bulging with his arousal. Making the list and thinking of doing all those things with Carl until he came apart for real, until he lost this icy control, had turned him on.
“Not here.” He took hold of Carl’s calloused hand, the fingers fitting well in his own. “Upstairs. Where we can be comfortable.”
