FicWad

We’re 18 and in our last year of High School. It’s Valentine’s Day. I’ve finally plucked up the courage and pushed a small piece of paper through the grates of your locker before walking off to my math lesson to learn all about advanced trigonometry.

I couldn’t give a shit about math; I was never going to use any of this. All I really needed was simple addition, subtraction, multiplication and division. I was never going to use algebra or Pythagoras’ theorem and it wasn’t what I wanted to study at college. I wanted to major in music and do something within that industry.

You wanted to do something with History. You were such a History geek, always reading books about the middle ages and the world wars. You suited that kind of topic. You had glasses, you were tall and skinny – you looked a little nerdy. But in such a cute way.

I carried out the calculations on my calculator and wrote them down on my paper until the lesson was over.

“Frank,” you say when you next see me. You found me in the canteen and I’m sitting at a table with Georgia and her new boyfriend; Sam. She and Andrew broke up last year but I’ve managed to keep a slight friendship with him. “Can I talk to you?” you ask and I look at you with a questioning look, though I know exactly what you want to talk about and why. You hold my note in your hand.

I nod and follow you out of the canteen and outside. We sit on one of the silver metal benches where there aren’t many people around and you unfold the note, showing it to me.

I look at you and you say “I know your handwriting, Frank,” you tell me.

be my valentine?♥ it reads.

I can usually read you like a book but not now. You’re face is blank to me. The pages torn and worn out. I don’t know what you’re thinking. You just continue to look at me, asking me with your eyes what I really meant by the note – though in my opinion, it’s pretty obvious.

“I love you,” I say with honestly. And I do love you. I like you more than like. I love you like my mum loves my dad, like your dad loves your mum. I love you more than you would love a best friend. I love you in the way that I want to just rip your clothes off and have my way with you. I love you in the way that I just want to hold you all day and press kisses to every inch of you that I possibly can.

You choke slightly and your lip trembles but you’re not going to cry. You hold it in and I look away from you, unable to look into your glare anymore. I don’t know what you’re thinking, and it scare me.

“I love you, too,” you say back and I finally look up to you. Your eyes are slightly more damp than usual behind your glasses.

“R-really?” I choke and you just nod your head. “Can I kiss you?” I asked and again, you just nod.

I lean forwards and press my lips hard against yours so that our teeth clash and our noses squash against each other. We don’t move our mouths and they don’t open. My eyes are squeezed shut and I don’t dare open them and look into your face. I’m not breathing and neither are you. Our hands are still in our own laps, not touching each other. Only our faces touch but that’s all I need right now.

You begin to move your mouth slowly and I follow suit, following your lead. Our mouths open and you take my bottom lip in between your two and we move in sync with each other. Our tongues don’t meet during the kiss and our hands don’t stray from our laps. It’s still a bit awkward. You’re my best friend and I’m yours. We know each other too well.

We’re still in school so we pull away all too soon. I miss the feeling of your mouth against mine instantly but there’s only so much we can get away with here. I didn’t want someone to find us.

I ask you if you’re gay and you tell me that you are, that all those girls you kissed were just your way of ignoring your sexuality. You didn’t want to be gay. I nod my head, understanding. I don’t want to be gay, either, but if you’re gay too, then I don’t mind. Especially if you’re gay with me.

You then ask me what we are now and I reply that I want to be your boyfriend and you nod your head and tell me that you want to be mine, too. I smile at you and we move our hands so that they’re now touching.

We’re sitting awkwardly. We’re facing into the field, not looking at each other, and sitting upright and rigid, only our hands touching. This is going to take some getting used to.

But I love you and I want to get used to this.

--

We first have sex in your bedroom when your parents were away for the weekend. Gerard’s away at college so it’s just the two of us. It’s awkward and we make it too complicated. You lean above me on your small bed and I look up into your face. We’re completely naked and I’ve never felt so exposed. But I don’t mind, you’re my best friend. I trust you. We bought lube and condoms from the pharmacy in town. Neither of us have had sex before. This is a first time for both of us; our first time having sex and our first time together. In a way, it makes it all that much more special.

We discussed it and I’m going to be the one taking. I don’t know how we came to that agreement but we did and so now you’re straddling me. Your knees are bent, your lower legs facing the end of the bed and you’re sitting on the tops of my thighs. Our cocks are brushing every now and then and it’s taking all my power to not moan. I don’t want to make a lot of noise. I don’t know if it’s allowed.

You’re coating your hands generously in lube, biting your lip gently. I’m watching you with half-closed eyes and you move off of me slightly. I open my legs for you and lift my hips slightly so you can find my hole. You prod around a bit, probably feeling a bit awkward. I would feel awkward if I was about to stick my fingers into your asshole, too. You look me in the eyes and I give you an encouraging nod. You push one finger into me up to the knuckle and I hiss out in pain as you add another. You move your fingers gently inside of me, using your other hand to rub my hip gently. I grip your hand over my hip and press my nails into your bones but you let me and, for that, I love you.

You pull your fingers out and coat your hand in lube again before spreading it over your erection. You let go of my hand so that you can use them both to tower above me and you look into my eyes as you push into me. I let out a small noise of pain and you mumble “sorry, sorry, sorry,” over and over as you lean further into me.

Tears are welling up in my eyes and I squeeze them shut, a few of them escaping down the sides and down my cheeks. You stop movement and I open my eyes.

“Shit, Frankie. Shit, shit,” you mutter and go to pull out. I shake my head and place my hand over your upper arm. I want to do this. I love you and I want to do this.

You nod and wipe away my tears before repeating the process. You push into me slowly and I breathe deeply until you can’t get in any further. You stay still for a while and you’re breath is shuddering. Your eyes are closed, mouth open, head hung low.

I laugh at you gently and you look up at me. “Oh, God,” you grunt, grinning at me and I chuckle before telling you that you can move.

You begin to move in and out of me and I can feel my ass stretching. It’s a weird sensation and it’s making my stomach fill with feelings I can’t describe. But it feels good. The pain is subsiding and has changed to a dull ache that’s adding to the pleasure you’re giving me as you pull in and out of me.

We don’t last long at all and you come slightly before me. You fall slack against my chest, still inside of me, and you pull out before tossing the condom in the bin. My abdomen is covered in my seamen and some of it is on you and you grab the tissues off of your bedside table to wipe us off.

I sit up against the headboard, my ass pounding, but I have a massive grin on my face that matches your own one.

“I love you,” you tell me and I repeat the three words that I mean more than anything.

---
there are 7 parts to this