Beginners. Tobias wondered what that made Sullivan. “You’ve done this sort of thing before, haven’t you?”
Sullivan’s hand paused. “Yes.”
“A lot?”
“Yes.” There was a tiny hesitation. “Is that a problem?”
“No,” Tobias replied honestly. “If anything, it’s a relief, I guess. That you know what you’re doing. It’s...everything sounds okay so far.”
“Okay.” Sullivan’s fingers started tracing through Tobias’s hair again. “You’re all right with ass play? Do you bottom?”
“Yeah.” That came out breathier than Tobias had meant for it to, but at this point, he wasn’t sure he cared.
“Mind some teasing?”
“No, that’s actually—no.”
“All right. Any questions before we start?”
“Um, no.”
Sullivan stood up, tugging on Tobias’s shirt to get him to rise too. “Take your clothes off for me, then.”
Tobias’s fingers shook as he pulled his shirt off, and it only got worse. He faltered when he got to his boxers, but Sullivan waited expectantly, so he pushed them down and stepped out.
Sullivan trailed a hand over Tobias’s chest, lingering on the sensitive skin below his belly button. “Nice,” he murmured. “Very nice.”
“Oh. Um, thanks.”
Sullivan smiled. “You sound nervous.”
Tobias blew out a breath. “Yeah, I am.”
“Good. Stay here.”
Then Sullivan was gone. Tobias shifted his weight and a terrible sensation of discomfort welled up in him. He felt alone, which—of course he did, he was alone, and that was a silly thing to be made uncomfortable by, even as exposed as he was. Silly or not, though, it was real, and getting stronger by the moment. Seconds went by and turned into a full minute, and by the time Sullivan walked back into the room with a tube of lube and a towel, Tobias was verging on jumping out of his skin.
“That wasn’t good, huh?” Sullivan studied him. “Don’t like waiting?”
“It’s the...” He gestured at his whole body, miserable that he’d somehow managed to mess this up already.
“Hey, no. That’s good. I’m glad we figured it out. It’s a small thing, and now we know that you don’t like being left alone when you’re feeling vulnerable. Won’t happen again.” Sullivan pulled him in so that Tobias’s face ended up buried in his throat, and the feeling began to subside, replaced by warmth and surprise that the mess had been so easily cleaned up.
“Sometimes things hit us wrong or weird; it doesn’t have to make sense. That’s okay.” Sullivan’s hand rubbed firm and soothing along Tobias’s spine. “For this to work, we have to be able to share this stuff. It’s good. You did good.”
Tobias nodded. Sullivan didn’t seem to think anything of it, so Tobias decided he wouldn’t either.
“How are we doing now?” Sullivan asked. “Green? Yellow? Want to put your clothes on and watch TV?”
Tobias laughed, and something about it made Sullivan’s eyes crinkle like he was happy, which was nice. He liked the idea of making Sullivan happy. “Green.”
“Cool. Come on over here.” Sullivan threw the towel over one arm of the big, overstuffed chair. “Lie across this on your belly. Feet on the floor, face on the cushion.”
Tobias hesitated, a million thoughts rioting through his brain. This felt different from yesterday, when he’d been caught up in the current. This was a choice.
He glanced at Sullivan, taking in anew the narrow, handsome face, the calm, dark eyes, the tattoo sleeves that disappeared under his T-shirt. He waited patiently, like he had countless hours to fill and this was one of a million unimportant ways to fill them. It might feel like a dive into deep water for Tobias, but Sullivan’s body language said this was nothing special. Even if he agreed to do as he was told right now, there was no commitment to it. He could say red at any time, and Sullivan would back off.
He was pretty sure he believed that.
With his pulse thundering, he leaned forward over the arm of the chair until his face pressed against the seat. He didn’t quite have to rise onto his toes, but his ass was up in the air, his most private parts on display. He was shaking; he was hard enough that the pressure of his dick against the wide, soft armrest felt amazing. He was tempted to rock against it for friction, but some instinct told him not to, and he was rewarded with an appreciative murmur from Sullivan, his hand sliding along Tobias’s back and sides like he’d never touched anyone worthier.
“This okay?” Sullivan asked.
“Yeah.”
“Good. Spread your legs for me.”
“Jesus,” Tobias whispered, and with heat curling in his stomach at the command—delivered so casually, as if it never occurred to Sullivan that he might be disobeyed—he did as he’d been told.
“Here’s the deal.” Sullivan sounded easy, like they might be talking about football or fishing. That was equal parts disorienting and reassuring. “You don’t come until I give you permission. It’s okay to say that you need time to calm down, or if you need to say yellow or red—all fine. I’ll never be unhappy with you for any of that. But don’t come. Green?”
Tobias nodded, his cheek brushing the soft fuzz of the cushion.
“I want you to respond verbally when I ask for a color.”
“Green,” Tobias managed.
There was the sound of a lid opening and closing, and then Sullivan was sliding lube-wet fingers between Tobias’s cheeks. The cold damp made him jump.
“You’ve done this before, yeah?” Sullivan explored that crease gently, taking his time. His hand left, then returned, wetter than before. “Anal, I mean?”
“Yes.”
“Just been fucked? Or toys, too?”
“Just—just sex.”
“Did you like it?”
Tobias was paying more attention to Sullivan’s hand than his words; it wasn’t until Sullivan dug his thumbnail into the sensitive skin of one cheek that he realized he’d let the conversation falter. He gasped, “Sorry, what?”
“Did you like it? Getting fucked?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.”
Those fingers were clever and quick; one was inside him and gone again almost before he’d felt its presence.
“You don’t know if you liked it?”
“I was—um...” Tobias bit his lip on a moan as Sullivan pushed inside him with two fingers this time, the lube plentiful,
