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Matt had recently moved back to Cullfield, a town he called home, up until his parents’ messy divorce when he was thirteen. He hadn’t missed it for the neurotic weather and underfunded public schools; only for the friends that he was forced to watch go through adolescence through social media. Although there was one friend that he couldn’t keep tabs on no matter how hard he tried. Incidentally, he was the friend that meant the most to him.

He’d met Owen in kindergarten when he saw him drawing shapes in the silt at recess and decided to join him. Painfully shy from day one, Owen had just started to find his footing when they entered middle school. Matt brought him to every hangout, party, and school event until Owen felt at ease interacting with the world around him. Still timid, but functionally timid.

Once Matt was gone, their mutual friends found less reluctant people to hang out with.

Owen was on his own for the first time since age six.

This time, no one came to play in the dirt with him.

After Matt’s return, they’d been hanging out at shitty dive bars with the same friends who ditched Owen—-catching up, talking shit, and getting drunk. Postpubescent faces contrasted with their childhood mannerisms.

During a smoke break behind the back of a brewery, Owen his lungs followed suit.

“Yeah, ‘people’,” Matt nonchalantly confirmed, not missing a single beat, “I don’t care what the person I’m getting with is. Especially back then, I’d fuck anything that moved,” He took a sip from his beer before continuing, “I fought it for a while—-which is why I never talked about it with you. I’m cool with it now, though”.

Owen had spent his entire childhood knowing that he was attracted to men but never told a soul. His mother had inquired about his sexuality once or twice, but he didn’t feel like he could confide in anyone without judgment—-not even his closest friends. Regret and relief washed over him. He wondered if his social ineptitude was partly due to the burden of secrecy.

A few seconds passed before he gained the courage to respond.

“Oh. Me too—-the people part, not the fucking part”, Owen confessed, “I never got that far”.

He cleared his throat, eyes glued to the floor. A fire of shame roared inside him, flames licking at his belly.

“Wait, what? You’re still a virgin?” Matt uttered with a light laugh, brows perched high on his forehead.

Owen’s face heated up at the sound of the word.

“Yeah”, he sheepishly confirmed.

“Handjobs, blowjobs, anything?” Matt playfully prodded with a coltish grin. Long limbs lay loose, and open, completely free of the awkwardness Owen exuded.

“No”, Owen clarified, abashed, “I haven’t even kissed anyone yet”.

He regretted it as soon as the words escaped his mouth. He tucked his hands into his pockets to soothe himself.

Matt’s chuckling had grown into a pitchy laugh of genuine disbelief.

“No way. That’s fucking crazy,” Matt said, pushing stray blond strands from his forehead, “I mean, how’ve you gone nineteen years without kissing anyone?”

The room felt two feet wide, getting smaller by the minute. His chest stung from the blow to his already below-average ego.

“I just haven’t found any people I felt like kissing, I guess” Owen stammered, “I don’t know”.

He felt splotchy redness burn across his cheeks and considered retracting into the safety of his hoodie to escape.

“Fuck, dude. I could teach you. It’s not that hard”, Matt said, an easygoing smirk posted on the corner of his mouth.

Owen’s wry laugh in response was short and dry, humiliation evident. He looked down to play with his hoodie strings, toying with the frayed edges as he spoke.

“Y’know, I missed out on a lot of shit without you here. You helped me put myself out there and made me talk to people. When you left it was easier to avoid social situations altogether than to, like, fuck them up and make an ass out of myself. So, that’s partly the reason I never tried to make it happen,” Owen lamented.

When met with silence, he cautiously looked up at his friend. The blond had turned to be face-to-face, pushing his broad shoulders forward to inch into Owen’s territory. There were a few beats of neither men speaking, just staring at each other.

Matt draped his arm to rest on the upper cushion of the couch.

“You ready?” He inquired, russet eyes boring directly into Owen’s.

“For what?” Owen asked, clueless. istanbul travesti He sustained eye contact while finishing the last of his beer.

“I said I’d teach you,” he replied, head tilting slightly. Matt’s voice was steady and relaxed—-almost lazy in how he drew the words out.

At that moment, the world ceased spinning. Owen broke glance, his throat drier than ever. A succession of anxiety blazed from his crown to his soles. He swore he could hear his heart jackhammering outside his body. Thump, thump, thump, thump.

“You’re fucking with me” Owen half-chuckled, remnants of a grin fading into quiet panic. Every vellus hair on his body stood erect as he waited for Matt’s response.

“I’m not”, Matt assured, tone warm and resolute.

Owen tried maintaining composure in spite of the chemical tsunami flooding his brain. He was a complete deer in headlights. A few moments of silence passed as he processed the situation.

“Owen, you good?” Matt asked, narrowly ducking his head down to meet the other man’s line of sight.

Owen carefully swallowed as he reeled himself back from the depths of his thoughts, eyes timidly rejoining Matt’s. “Yeah”, he mumbled.

“Can I teach you?” Matt asked, earnest in his delivery. The light of the lamp next to them shone on his glossy hair, golden highlights floating in a sea of dirty blond.

“Yeah” Owen repeated, a red tint washing over his face.

That same heartbeat thrummed even harder now. Thump, thump, thump, thump.

Matt’s heart was pounding almost as fast—-the only difference being that he could effectively hide it.

Owen took a swig from a nearby water bottle in an attempt to calm his nerves. Matt watched the knot of Owen’s adams apple lightly bob as he drank.

Feeling the nervous energy radiate off the other man, he extended a hand out to comfort him. It rested on Owen’s knee, patting the dark cotton of his joggers.

‘You’re safe’, he said, without using a single word.

Owen felt Matt’s sight on him while he snuck his own intimidated glances, suddenly too aware of his insecurities—-prominent dark circles and the mosaic of acne scars scattered across his jaw. His head felt as light as air, floating him off to a land of epinephrine and nerve-wracking temptation.

“Close your eyes”, Matt prompted, voice low and slack.

Owen inhaled slightly before he followed Matt’s direction. His eyelids fluttered shut, pale brown lashes now gently resting against the apples of his cheeks.

Owen’s heart was drumming heavy, rapid beats. He felt like it might break his ribs.

“Open your mouth just a little. Barely open”.

Owen’s lips part, leaving a sliver of space unshut. He imagined how ridiculous he must look, sitting in front of Matt with his face completely relaxed, mouth pouting. His overwhelming self-consciousness urged him to speak.

“I feel stupid”, he murmured, keeping his eyes shut tight.

“You don’t look stupid,” Matt reassured, a hint of a chuckle catching the front of his sentence.

He proceeded to move further into Owen’s space, a mere few inches separating them.

“Most people like cupping faces. It’s an easy way to find a position that works for both of you,” the blond continued, placing his hands on each side of Owen’s face, thumb brushing against the entrance of his ears, “You comfortable?”

Owen aptly nodded in response, sneaking in a quiet breath.

Matt’s body heat wafted over as he inched closer, hands still firmly resting on Owen’s cheekbones as he closed the gap between the two.

Owen’s breath hitched before Matt even touched his mouth. He felt the tiniest change of pressure–lips being grazed with barely any touch at all. It wasn’t until Owen exhaled through his nose that Matt pressed forward, sending a rush down the brunet’s spine.

Closed, warm mouths met, lips joining once with a distinct sound as they pulled apart. Owen inhaled deeply, feeling a warm shiver run down his extremities, eyes still partially lidded. Matt’s hands continued to gently grasp Owen’s slim face, checking his reaction from up close. Both men shared a meek smile, taking a moment to listen to the quiet hum of the air conditioning; absorbing the newfound tension in the room.

Matt then circled back, leaning in for a second kiss with a bit more force, deepening it just enough to not overwhelm the other man. Their lips crashed for a few beats longer than before, leaving the brunet breathless.

Owen felt his skin prickle, istanbul travestileri goosebumps dotting every inch. He was hypnotized by the feeling of Matt’s soft mouth pressing against his own to the point of being numb to every other sense. Having no idea what to do with the rest of his body, he instinctually rested his hands by Matt’s waist. Not holding him, just lightly touching his sides. His hoodie sleeves were far too long–loose fabric falling past his knuckles as he moved.

They hovered over each other’s faces again after they parted. Matt had opened up to see Owen wearing a dopey expression. His denim blue eyes were drunk on contentment. His fear had begun dissipating; billowing like black smoke off burnt rubber. His attraction was only revving up, thirsty for more contact now that they were apart.

“Feel good?” Matt said with a casual smirk, intermittently glancing at Owen’s lips.

Owen nodded meekly in response. It wasn’t unusual for him to fall silent when he’s flustered—-it’d been a habit of his since childhood.

“Nice. You wanna try me now?” He offered. His irises resembled the amber of their beer bottles in the light. Owen felt himself being drawn into them, like a moth to a flame.

Owen took a moment to deliberate until he was ready to whisper back, “Yeah”.

He felt like he was on a fucking cloud—-every subtle sensation amplified tenfold. He brought his hands up, gingerly placing them on Matt’s jaw. He felt the ever so slight grit of a freshly shaved face underneath his fingertips. A spoonful of confidence rattled inside his chest.

He went to lean in but couldn’t help hesitating. Hovering over Matt’s mouth, he asked, “Do I just… go for it?”, his voice trembling a bit.

“Dude. Don’t overthink it. Focus on what feels good,” Matt replied as he closed his eyes, “That’s the only shit that matters”.

Owen nodded to himself as he mirrored Matt, eyelids fluttering shut. He could barely hear himself think over the thudding of his pulse. Instead of indulging in his insecurities any longer, he made a conscious effort to try and let his body do the work for him.

He let himself linger over Matt’s mouth for a few more seconds before he pushed forward and committed to a tender collision. His body instantly reacted to the millions of tiny nerve endings on his lips being triggered at once. It felt like a matchbook striking a blaze inside of him.

To remedy the discomfort of their mixed-height position, Matt pushed himself down into Owen’s territory instead. Their clothed torsos slanted against one another, continuing to deepen the kiss with the newfound room. It was no longer going to be a simple few consecutive pecks; it was evolving into something much more intense.

The heat burning a hole through Owen’s abdomen was almost unbearable. A trail of electricity sank into him, red-hot by the time it made its way to his groin. He could feel the blood racing into his pants when Matt began to take the lead again, inching them both further down onto the couch. There was a symphony of heavy exhales between them as they played off of each other. What Owen was lacking in experience he made up for with boyish enthusiasm.

“You’re doing so good”, Matt mumbled between heated breaths.

A sudden onrush of hormones flooded Owen when he felt Matt’s tongue slip into his mouth, filling the last gap between the two. The foreign sensation was turning his mind to buzzing static. He followed the lead, weaving his own into the mix. Wet tongues passed over one another, clumsily gliding with little constraint. Matt tasted of tangy citrus, beer, and clove cigarettes. Owen couldn’t get enough of it. Arousal was thundering through his body like a shockwave. Everything was happening too fast for his anxiety to catch up with. His system clamored for much more.

Owen then moved his head too suddenly, causing their teeth to awkwardly clack together.

His eyes snapped open as he pulled back, a thin strand of spit connecting the two, “Shit. I’m sorry”, he muttered.

“Don’t worry. It happens. Keep going”, Matt hurried back, sneaking a quick kiss mid-sentence.

They returned to their previous frantic rhythm, too worked up to let teeth get in the way. Their legs began to intertwine with every new, small movement. Owen was starved for more contact—-even an ounce of friction would help sate his desires.

Once he felt the deep vibrations of Matt’s hum echo down his throat, he lost control—-instinctively travesti istanbul bucking his hips directly into Matt’s coarse blue jeans. One hardening cock crashed into another.

Matt pulled back as if he had touched a hot oven with an ungloved hand.

“Okay, slow down,” he whispered, a firm grip on Owen’s slender shoulders.

A painful pit formed in Owen’s stomach; worry cracking like a whip inside him.

“Did I do something wrong?” He blurted with widened eyes. He hadn’t realized how sweaty they’d gotten until that very moment, looking at Matt’s glistening forehead to escape meeting his glance.

“Christ, no, man. Not at all”, Matt clarified, shaking his head. He hovered over Owen’s flushed face, carefully choosing his next words,”I just don’t know how far you want to go,” he said, his hands lightly resting against the brunet’s collar bones.

Owen paused, faltering, “I don’t even know what the fuck I’m doing. What do you want to do?”

“I’m down for anything you want. No pressure, alright?” Matt said, clutching Owen’s shoulder, “Give me your plan and we’ll do it”.

Owen couldn’t even look him in the eyes as he mulled it over. Matt’s grasp wandered up his neck, a lax hand lacing into the brunet’s hair. Owen felt naked while fully dressed, his dick still firmly pressing against his tightening joggers. His insistent libido pleaded with his timidity.

“Just this. Through clothes”, he replied, tripping over his words.

His eyes reflexively slammed shut when Matt’s fingers got caught on a knot in his messy mane. A slight, breathy moan uncontrollably escaped his throat, followed by self-conscious laughter.

“Oh my God”, Owen silently mouthed, covering his face with his hands.

He thought he’d met the threshold for embarrassment by that point, but had clearly been mistaken.

Caught off guard, Matt joined with his own growing laugh, “So that’s what you’re into, huh?”.

A few moments passed before Owen felt ready to speak again, finally uncovering his face.

“Sometimes I’ll tug on my hair when I’m jerking off,” Owen stammered while staring up at the ceiling.

He puffed a sigh, chuckling to himself, “I can’t believe I just told you that”.

Matt’s pupils enlarged in response, black pools drowning his whiskey-brown irises.

“I’ll remember that,” he replied. “C’mere”, he continued, gesturing for them to switch positions. Owen fumbled his way into straddling Matt’s sturdy lap on the couch.

Matt thought Owen was most beautiful in this light. Shadows contoured the hollows of his cheekbones. Deep-set, sleepy eyes were illuminated by the dim television beside them. Light caught the glossy spit on his soft, pink mouth. There was a single cut on his bottom lip from his habit of nipping at it. Matt wanted to tug on it with his teeth until he could taste the iron on his tongue.

Owen’s skin was so flushed that he practically glowed pink as he sat above Matt. He peered at him, breathing heavily in anticipation of action. Matt could see the tinge of fear in his eyes as Owen second-guessed himself.

“If you feel like stopping at any point, tell me. It won’t ruin anything or piss me off,” Matt reminded him, maintaining careful eye contact.

“Yeah, I know,” Owen said, nodding. His shoulders shed a bit of tension, letting himself hang over the blond. His posture continued to sink lower as they stared at each other, mouths ajar.

Matt soon laced his fingers back into Owen’s dusky strands, gently pulling as he rolled his hips upward tepidly.

“Oh, fuck”, Owen murmured, closing his eyes. His cock was completely rigid against Matt’s.

He harshly ground his hips into Matt’s lap in response, earning a breathy grunt back from the other man. Their bodies were grating against one another in slow, tentative surges, sparking with every single stroke.

Their hungry eyes met once more and the tension became too overwhelming to bear. Within seconds, their mouths collided again, furiously lapping without any concern for precision. All Owen could focus on was rocking his hips into Matt’s stiffening cock. Matt swore he could feel Owen’s length throbbing between them in short pulses, but the heavy denim he was wearing was too thick to truly tell.

Matt pulled their mouths apart with a slick pop and rasped, “Can we take our pants off? Not naked–just underwear”.

Owen didn’t verbally respond. Instead, he jumped up from the couch, his hard cock bouncing in his tented briefs when he kicked the legs of his pants off. Matt pulled his jeans down to reveal boxer-briefs with an unexpectedly dense outline, his pink tip poking out from the tight elastic band. Owen’s head was spinning from the sight alone, beholding it for a moment before getting back on top of Matt.

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