I still think about that afternoon, more often than you'd probably expect. It wasn't the last time something like that happened between us, of course - but it was the first. There we were, writing a song, and I couldn't take my eyes off you as we worked out the verse; had to keep glancing away every time you looked up. You were hunched over your guitar, hair falling into your eyes and an expression of complete concentration on your face, a tiny frown that anyone who knew you less well than I do would probably have interpreted as irritated. I know better. You're always completely absorbed in whatever you're doing, and you forget to school your expressions; makes a change, when you're aware that people are watching you, you're usually so careful to project the image you want to convey. Mr Big Rock Star, smoking your cigarette and playing your guitar, too cool to acknowledge the rest of the world...too cool to smile, most of the time, unless I distract you, and then you can't help yourself. One of the many things I love about you.
We got the verse sorted, even gave you an opportunity to solo, and I announced it was time we had a break; you looked up and I saw my chance, decided I had to take it, hoping I hadn't misread you. I leaned forward and kissed you long and hard - hard enough to convey my meaning, I hoped. You stared at me, a little bewildered, when I pulled away, but you didn't fight when I leaned in again; far from it. You're a fucking amazing kisser, and for a straight boy you're surprisingly good at kissing me back.
It's not difficult to lose myself in the memories; it's as though it's happening now. It's always the way - when I think of you I can't help myself, you're so absorbing, so distracting. I close my eyes and let the memories take me.
You kiss me again, harder than I'd expected, and your hands come up to frame my face briefly before one of them slips round to the back of my neck, under my hair, and the other begins to make its slow way down my chest. You brush against my nipple-ring on your way, and I gasp involuntarily into the kiss. Pulling back just the slightest bit I whisper against your lips. "I want you, so badly."
You just stare at me and for a moment I wonder if I've crossed the line, pushed you too far, but then I recognise the slightly puzzled expression on your face and I laugh. "Stop thinking, Lauri. You always think too much." I let my fingers trail down your chest. "Do you want this? Do you want me? I think you do." I'm being a little more brazen than I would usually be, but I sense that if I don't spell it out for you, we'll never get any further than this.
You've closed your eyes, still thinking of course, but you nod, and you whisper "Yes," and I smile, kissing you again. That wasn't so difficult, was it?
Your hand moves to the buttons of my shirt, struggling to undo them one-handed and eyes closed, and I decide to come to your rescue. Gently moving your hand I unbutton the shirt and push it back off my shoulders, letting it fall off my arms and pulling my wrists through the cuffs. You open your eyes then, and your hand returns to my chest, touching me very gently and tentatively, as if you're not entirely sure I won't melt away under your fingers. You brush a little hesitantly against my nipple-ring and I gasp again. A fascinated little smile breaks across your face at that, and I shift to kneel astride your outstretched legs, pulling at the hem of your t-shirt. I ease it up and over your head, and you obediently lift your arms so that I can take it off you.
I smooth my hands down your chest and stomach, revelling in the feel of your muscles, taut and well-defined under your skin. You don't like people knowing how much time you spend in the gym, but personally I think it's time very well spent. Your breathing deepens as my fingers skate over your abs, heading south, and I smile, pulling back a little. "Up," I murmur, gesturing to the sofa behind you, and you hurry to comply. We shuffle and hoist ourselves up onto the sofa, not wanting to move apart, and when we're up there, you stretched out beneath me, I finally let my hands stray to your belt buckle, easing it open, pushing it aside and working on the fastenings of your jeans. I'm privately a little amazed that you haven't stopped me yet; this has got to be your first time with a guy, and I'm certain you're still pretending to yourself that you're straight, reasoning me away as an exception. But you let me slide my hand inside your jeans, you let me wrap my fingers around you with no protest at all, a tiny helpless moan the only sound from your lips.
I pull your jeans down over your hips - not that they were doing much more than clinging to them anyway, I don't think I've ever seen you in anything that doesn't just about skim your hipbones, which makes concentrating on anything very difficult indeed when you're around - and you wriggle out of them as I push them down your legs. Kicking them off your feet, you grab me and pull me down for a kiss, giving me no time at all to appreciate the fact that I've finally managed to get you naked beneath me. You really do want this, don't you? I can't believe my luck.
Pulling away rather reluctantly, I get to my feet, just long enough to shimmy out of my jeans, then I kneel astride you again. You reach up to me, as if you don't want me too far from you - are you trying to hide against me? - but I resist for a moment, just a moment, looking down at you, drinking you in. You're gorgeous.
And then I let you pull me down again, and this time I take the opportunity to flex my hips, just a little, rubbing myself against you. You moan again, a hoarse, desperate little sound in the back of your throat, and I'm not sure you know you're doing it. I move again, and you do it again, and the sound arrows straight through me, arousing me even more. I shuffle a little, turning us over; suddenly I want to be beneath you, want your body covering mine.
"Touch me," I gasp, and you hesitate. I just have time to wonder if maybe I've misread you, maybe you aren't quite as ready for this as I'd thought you were, maybe you can't go through with it after all; and then your hand moves, a little tentatively, right to where I want it to be, and I can't help the smile that spreads across my face at that. Your touch is gentle, almost nervous at first, but that doesn't last long. You might not have done this to someone else before (though my mischievous mind suggests that someone who loves himself as much as you like to make people think you do has to have had some experience of this sort of thing) but you're very good at it all the same. My eyes flutter shut for a moment and I concentrate on the sensation of your hand on me. I've been thinking about this for a long time, but it's turning out to be so much better than I'd imagined. I pull you down and kiss you again, crushing your mouth to mine as your fingers begin to increase their pace, stealing my breath, you're so good at this...
"Aah! Lauri!" My voice catches over your name and you let out a tiny, helpless moan. Oh, so you like that, do you, hearing your name in my voice when I'm almost incoherent with arousal? I file the information away for future use - never let it be said that I fail to take advantage of any weakness that might present itself - and gasp your name again, shifting a little beneath you and gently moving your hand to where I want it now. I'm not going to take you, not this time. You've been remarkably easy to persuade so far, but I think that might be a little bit much. No, I'm simply going to see how far you're willing to go towards taking me, instead. I really hope you're feeling open-minded though, because I'm not sure I can cope with much more teasing.
You stroke, gently, tentatively, and I shiver at your touch as you begin to press a little more firmly, not quite inside me, not yet, but you're really going to do this, aren't you? You really do want this after all. In which case, there's a couple of things we're going to need. I wriggle underneath you and a concerned frown crosses your face.
"Are you okay?" you whisper, the first thing you've said since I made you tell me you want me, and I flash you a smile.
"More than okay, Lauri. There's just something we'll need." My voice is husky, dark, and I can tell you like the sound of it. I lean over the end of the sofa and grab my jacket, fumbling in the inside pocket. My fingers close around what I'm looking for and I settle myself back underneath you. You're looking a little puzzled, and I can't help giggling. I never had you down as innocent, but it really looks as though you haven't figured out what I was getting. I open my hand, dropping a small tube and a little square packet onto my chest, and your eyes widen. I laugh a little harder at the expression on your face. "It's not like being with a girl, Lauri," I point out, more gently than the words suggest. "It needs a little...help. Give me your hand."
You obey, still giving me a slightly odd look. I know what you're thinking - what am I doing carrying this stuff around in my jacket? Well, it doesn't hurt to be prepared for every eventuality, does it? Not to mention I've been waiting for the opportune moment to jump you for what feels like for ever. I uncap the tube, squeezing its contents onto your fingers, then I take your hand and move it back to where it was. You move your fingers tentatively, that slightly puzzled look still on your face as you feel them slide against my skin, slipping one of them a little way inside me. I gasp at the sensation, this is what I've been imagining, or on the way to it, anyway, and try my best to restrain myself from pushing down on your finger. I think that would probably freak you out.
Gently, almost hesitantly you prepare me, the look of puzzlement slowly giving way to one of fascination and wonder at the sensations you're evidently provoking in me; I can't quite catch my breath, and your name keeps falling hoarsely from my lips, over and over. I'm not exactly thinking straight any more, this is too intense for thought, just sensations, your touch sending shivers and waves of pleasure right through me with every tiny move you make.
Eventually I decide it's time to move this on a little. I'm absolutely frantic to feel you inside me, properly inside me. "Lauri..." I murmur between snatched breaths, "I'm ready when you are."
Your hand stills and you give me a look that I've never seen from you before, a look I must be the first guy to see, though I'm sure there are a few girls out there who've seen it. Intently, intensely sensual, it tells me exactly what I wanted to know, and I retrieve the little packet from my chest where it's still sitting, tearing it open with shaking hands and tipping the contents into my palm. Sitting up a little I ease it onto you, making sure to touch every inch of your so-sensitive skin as I go, kissing my way across your chest as my fingers do their work, slicking you with a flourished squeeze of the lube. And then I settle back onto the sofa again, raising my hips and pulling you down to me, wrapping my legs around your back and guiding you into me with one hand, slowly slowly easing in until we're irretrievably joined, no going back now, the final line between us well and truly crossed. I hold you there for a moment, just losing myself in the sensation, and then I let you move and you let out a strangled gasp.
"Fuck...Jonne...you're so...oh!" Your eyes are wide, surprised, and I can't help but laugh, this is so much more than worth the wait. I pull you into a kiss, trying to concentrate on the feel of your mouth against mine, trying to take my mind off the fact that I'm not going to last much longer, you're so good, so good...and then your pace picks up and I'm rising to meet you, can't help myself, can't stop, can't stop, christ, this is...this is...my mind loses the capacity for coherent thought and all I can do is gasp your name.
"Lauri...ohmygod...Lauri, I...ahh...ohgod..." and then even words are beyond me and you're pushing me over the edge, can't hold on any more, and oh god that's so good and now you're falling too, your voice hoarse and surprised as you cry out something that I'd probably recognise as my name if I wasn't so completely gone.
And then you collapse onto me, your hair in my face, and I hold onto you as tightly as I can manage, given that my bones have turned to water inside me, and we lie quietly for a while, trying to get our breath back. I pet your hair absently, breathing you in, committing everything about this to memory and promising myself that I'm going to make sure it happens again as soon as possible, because that was even better than I imagined.
I blink, coming back to myself with a jump. On my own again, wide awake in an anonymous hotel bed with no prospect of sleep any time soon. I can still feel your hands on me, the memories are so vivid...there's only one thing to do. I shuffle out of bed and climb into my jeans, then I go in search of your room. I'm sure you won't mind a visitor.