Page 48 of Men in Shorts

So by the time they reached his bedroom, Duncan was too turned on to be nervous—for now, at least.

As they stepped inside, the door brushed a piece of notepaper on the floor. Duncan picked it up.

I hope you come to the dance so we can talk. So I can tell you I’m sorry.

-Brodie

At the bottom were the dance party’s time and place.

“You didn’t see the note earlier?” Brodie asked. “It wasn’t why you came?”

“No, I went there from my parents’. I was never not coming.”

“That’s…wow.” Brodie took the note from him and examined it. Suddenly his face fell. “I never actually told you I was sorry, did I? I thought it, in my head.” He passed a hand over his hair, giving it an exasperated tug. “But I didn’t have the balls to say it.”

“You don’t have to?—”

“I do. The things I said to you Saturday at the bus stop…all week I couldn’t stop seeing your face. It killed me knowing how much I’d hurt you. The thing is, in that moment, Iwantedto hurt you. It felt like the only way to protect myself. But you didn’t deserve it.”

Until now, Duncan hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear Brodie apologize. “Maybe I did deserve it. Obviously I’d hurt your feelings too.”

“Not on purpose. It’s one thing to be insensitive. I was cruel.” He lifted his eyes to meet Duncan’s. “Can you forgive me?”

“Of course.” Duncan moved closer and kissed him softly. “As long as I never hear the phrase ‘meaningless hormonal caper’ again.”

Brodie groaned. “Sorry about that.” He tapped his forehead lightly against Duncan’s. “What about ‘meaningfulhormonal caper’?”

“Ooh.” Duncan reached under Brodie’s shirt. “That sounds a belter.”

They undressed quickly, hands trembling more than ever, then Brodie pulled Duncan to lie beside him on the bed. As they kissed and touched, Duncan struggled to fathom how this lad could think his body inferior to anyone’s. It felt more than equal to his own. It felt perfect.

When the time was right, he pulled away long enough to retrieve the lube and condoms from the bottom drawer of his desk. Then he came back to the bed and propped his pillows against the wall. “Sit up here.”

Brodie looked confused, but did as he asked. Comprehension dawned on his face as Duncan straddled his legs.

“This way, I do all the work.” Duncan carefully rolled the condom down over Brodie’s long, stiff cock, biting back his own moan of anticipation. “You just relax and enjoy it.”

“You sure there’s nothing I can do?”

“Well, there’s one wee thing.” He slicked the lube over the surface of the condom, then took Brodie’s hand and added a dollop to the tip of his middle finger. “Okay?”

Brodie nodded eagerly. His left arm drew Duncan close while his right hand snaked around, fingers slipping between Duncan’s cheeks.

Duncan whimpered at the first tentative touch of Brodie’s fingertip to his hole. He pressed against it, drawing him in. As Brodie grew bolder, probing deeper, Duncan couldn’t help moving his own hips, rubbing his cock against the smooth skin of Brodie’s chest. The feeling was so intense, it seemed impossible this was mere foreplay.

“More,” he urged. “Two fingers now.”

Brodie obliged, and Duncan’s pleasure quadrupled rather than doubled. He pressed his mouth to the top of Brodie’s head, muffling his cries in the thick, soft hair.

“God…” Brodie’s whisper held an edge of pain, the torture of restraint. “You feel amazing.”

You have no idea.Duncan was past coherent speech now, as Brodie’s fingers curled, finding the sweet spot inside him. They massaged it again and again, until Duncan’s breath hitched into near sobs. He was ready for more, ready for everything, but he couldn’t bring himself to make this end.

Brodie’s strokes slowed. “Wasn’t there something you wanted to ask me?”

“Hm?” Now trembling with need, Duncan blinked himself back to semi-reality. “What do you mean?”

“In the student union, you said something about how in ten minutes, you’d take me back to your room and ask me to…” His fingers went still, and his tone turned cheeky. “What was it again? I forget.”

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