Page 129 of The Pairing

I direct Theo to the lube in my bag and watch over my shoulder as they slick up their fingers with the swift confidence of an expert. It occurs to me distantly that Theo has done a lot of fucking since the last time they fucked me, and knowing them, they’ll have picked up a million new ways to be good at it. They were already the best fuck I ever had, and now they may be even better.

I may go out like Raphael tonight in this hostel bed. Theo may actually kill me.

They ease me open with smooth, deliberate purpose. I haven’t let anyone inside me like this since I left home, but Theo is patient, as promised. They kiss the small of my back and work their way inside until the stretch becomes more pleasure than pain, and then something past pleasure, a breathtaking fullness, as if some missing piece of me has been returned at last. And then their fingertips graze that bundle of nerves inside of me.

“Fuck,” I gasp, my back arching at the shock of sensation. Theo smiles against my skin.

“Right where I left it.”

“More. Please.”

They push in again, brushing the same spot, and a broken sound wrenches out of me. My shoulders finally give. I scramble to pull a pillow under me, tucking my chin into my shoulder, desperate to watch as Theo balances on their knees and lines theirhips up behind me. Their fingers are buried so deep that their palm presses against my ass, and when our eyes lock, they reach around with their slicked left hand and—Jesus,fuck—wrap their fist around me.

“I’m gonna fuck you like this,” Theo tells me, voice rough but determined, “and just when you’re about to come, I want you to tell me. Then we switch, and you fuck me until we both finish. Okay?”

“Yes,” I manage to say. “Fuck, yes, that sounds perfect. I want that.”

“Until then,” Theo says, “I want you to be a good boy and take it.”

“Yes,” I say, more aroused than I’ve possibly ever been in my life. “Yes.”

They brace their pelvis against the back of their own hand and fuck me like they said they would, using the steady, relentless roll of their hips to guide their fingers in and out, fingertips skating over that sensitive spot inside me. Their other hand matches the rhythm, so that every time they push inside, their hips push me into the tight circle of their fist. I was right—they’ve never fucked me like this, never pinned me between two points of pleasure and held me there with their full strength. They’re stronger, surer, and I feel so fuckinggoodbeneath them.

“God,” Theo groans. “You’re such a little slut sometimes.”

My heart clenches, a weak, grateful sound breaking loose.

“You like that?” they ask. “You like when I call you that?”

“Yeah, yes, fucking—love it. Feels good. Feels like—praise.”

“It is,” they say in the lowest, gentlest part of their voice. “You’re so good. So sweet. Such a perfect slut for me.”

I let my mouth hang open so they can fuck all the sounds they want from me, one of my hands braced against the headboard to take it better. It’s so good like this, so good when it’s Theo, so good to be home in capable hands. Complex thought evaporates into sparkling firmament overhead, and far below, I bite the pillow and want only very simple things, to be held and fucked and told I’m pretty, to be good for the person I love.

“Theo,” I stammer, barely holding myself together. “Theo, I’m—I’m close.”

“Yeah?”

The last thing my body wants is for Theo to stop stroking me, but I find the fortitude to reach between my legs and guide their hand away, down the wetness I’ve been steadily leaking onto the sheets.

“Yeah.”

All at once, Theo’s hands and body leave me.

The parts of me that had gone pliant and molten instantly cool like volcanic rock. Hard with need, with intent, with a consuming desire to release everything that’s been locked inside me for so much longer than we’ve been in this bed. I gather myself, wanting to use my strength. I want to be the one giving. I want to hear Theo beg for me the way I did for them, to—

Something light smacks into the side of my face.

I blink down at the bed. It’s a condom. The foil wrapper says,JEANS.

“I—I thought we didn’t save any of those.”

I turn to see Theo naked atop the sheets, propped up on their elbows with one knee bent, freckled cheeks red with exertion and a halo of sweat on their brow. They’re smirking, pleased with their performance and now their comedic timing.

“Fabrizio slipped me one before we left,” they say. “Come on, I wanna see you.”

In a second my feet are planted on the floor and I’m dragging them to the foot of the bed by their ankles as they laugh out a yelp of surprise.

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