Page 20 of Fruitbat

I can’t resist and lean in, pressing my mouth to his, before I miss my chance. His lips are every bit as pillowy as I imagined, and he tastes even sweeter. The hairs all over my body are lit with static and dancing in the autumn air.

Our sticky mouths peel apart as I step away, dumbfounded and intoxicated..

“Happy Birthday,” I say with a smile.

He wraps his arms around my neck and dives back in. Smashing our faces together.

He pulls me forward, stumbling with him, as he backs against the brick facade of an old factory, turned art gallery.

Neither of us want to break the kiss. I trip over my own foot but catch myself with my hand on the wall over his shoulder and push my belly against him.

Si whimpers into my mouth and his tongue meets mine. He’s dessert and I’m still fucking hungry.

His fingers tangle in the thick fringe of hair on the back of my neck, sending shockwaves down my spine that reverberate out to all of my limbs.

My fingers wrap his hip, and climb up his back, beneath his shirts. His skin is like velvet to touch.

Hot breaths flare from our nostrils, warming my frozen face and the goosebumps that cover my skin are no longer caused by the late autumn air. My cock is ravenous against the denim constraints holding it back and his swells against my thigh.

Fuck!

He pauses the kiss, but doesn’t move away, both of us exchanging breaths. “Is your place close by?” he whispers between our lips.

“Around the corner.” I breathe into the side of his mouth.

“Take me there.” His hands bracket my face as he pushes away and stares into my eyes with golden flames lit in his.

I swallow the thickness catching in my throat and grab his hand, leading him toward my building.

My lips tingle from his tantalizing magic.

We round the bend and hop up the stoop, through the door, into the dim entry. Peanut butter cookie air follows us, whirling through the brown and beige art deco foyer, and climbing up the stairwell that twists and folds through the three-story climb.

I keep my eyes ahead, fearing if I look back he’ll have vanished on me, and keep hold of his static until we reach the landing outside my apartment door.

When I finally do look back, he’s still there, and I smile.

I know he doesn’t know, and I can’t read why he’s so special.

It’s not for me to tell . . . He’ll figure it out.

I’ll let this new thing unfold as it will.

I turn the key, and wriggle the old knob, until it releases, then push the door open. It bounces against the wall, cracking the old plaster, but I’ll worry about that later.

15

Si

3:44 am

I stand in the doorframe, folding my upper body inside, scoping out his little crow’s nest at the peak of this building.

“It’s warm up here.”Or is it that makeout session lingering on my lips, or the steep climb up three flights, that has me on fire and gasping for air?I unzip the hoodie and hang it on a hook, next to the entrance.

Danny switches a lamp on, next to the bed, that’s just three or so steps away from the kitchenette along the far wall. The eclectic but organized space fills with a soft glow, enhancing the moonlight spilling in from two windows—or are they skylights?—on a slanted wall that huddles over the cozy attic.

I slip inside and close the door.

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