Ash took a step toward him, but Dan stiffened. What was going on in that head of his? Was he embarrassed by what he’d said? Surprised that Ash felt the same way? Freaking out that he’d laid it all out there in the first place?
All of the above. Definitely.
Ash might freak out later himself. Knowing he was bisexual was one thing. Acting on his attraction to men—to Dan—after spending his adolescent years in locker rooms where the words gay and fag and homo were used as insults by clueless teens? It was like getting used to a new coach after playing for the same one for years. Like climbing the Himalayas after practicing solely in Yosemite.
It’d take practice. Lots of practice. Lots of practice kissing Dan.
He was so on board with that.
Dan was no longer looking like the top of his head was about to fly off. Ash chanced another step closer, and Dan watched him, not moving, not even blinking.
Was he breathing? Ash certainly wasn’t.
It was Dan who closed the distance between them, tentatively, hands curling around Ash’s upper arms. Ash snaked his arms around Dan’s waist, bringing them chest-to-chest and lifting Dan up onto his tippy toes, making Dan’s breathing hitch and his hands clamp onto Ash.
Holding a man was different than holding a woman. Dan was harder, sturdier, curved in different places. But it was nice not to have to watch his own strength for once. Dan looked like he could take a pounding.
Fuck. When had he gone from kissing Dan to pounding him?
Now that his brain had gone there, it was impossible to rein it in, and he kept picturing Dan on his back underneath him, head thrown back against the pillow, mouth open in an O of ecstasy, sweat dampened curls clinging to his forehead.
Jesus. The air was sucked out of the room, and yes, that was his dick thickening in his pants, right up against Dan’s thigh. There was no way Dan could miss it.
And he certainly didn’t. Gasping, his gaze snapped to Ash’s, eyes dark and wide. His hands came up to Ash’s face. “You do want to kiss me,” he breathed.
“Yes. Yes, I really, really do.”
Dan reared up, nuzzling Ash’s face with his nose, breathing him in. Ash returned the gesture, arms banding iron-like around Dan as he inhaled. Dan smelled mostly of soap and a little bit of aftershave, scents Ash had never been turned on by before. But on Dan, it made him want to pull him even closer.
Ash pressed a tiny kiss to Dan’s cheekbone, the skin warm and soft. “I’ve never kissed a guy before.”
“Me neither.” Dan pulled back, just a bit, and smiled quietly at Ash. “Hi.”
Something soft and warm tumbled in Ash’s chest. “Hi.”
© Amy Aislin 2019