STOLEN DANCE

MATEO

I’m high out of my mind. It’s a good kind – borderline euphoric where everything seems funny and unimportant now. A distant concern. I take another hit, leaning against the wall and staring up at the ceiling from my place on the floor. I barely react when my door swings open, hardly registering the boy tiptoeing down my stairs at midnight.

“You could knock, you know,” is all I say as Kieran stares at me. Or maybe I just think it. I don’t know, nor do I care.

Kieran looks at me with those furrowed eyebrows of his as he walks over. It seems like he’s moving through honey with how slow he is. I let out a laugh at that.

“Have you been smoking?” he asks, concern lacing his voice. I laugh harder, which makes him slam his hand over my mouth. “Shut up, you’ll wake your parents.”

Normally the threat would shut me up in an instant, especially since the debacle in junior year where I got caught vaping in the bathrooms. The lecture and month-long ban on “privileges” such as my phone, car and going outside had deterred me from the habit – mostly. However, I couldn’t care less right now. It’s the only thing that numbs my debilitating fear of being alone.

I don’t think. I just act. I grab his hand, tugging him down to my level. His knees land either side of my legs and he leans back, his worry moulding into a look of bewilderment as I move closer. I blink, and suddenly I’m right in front of his face, my lips hovering over his. I watch as his lips part. His shaky breath ghosts over me, and I feel so warm.

Don’t think. Just act.

I close the gap. My eyes drift shut, and I focus on how soft his lips are, how warm I am, how warm he is. He throws one arm around my neck and deepens the kiss, his mouth gasping into mine. My tongue slips past, and I feel whole. We slide together, drifting closer and closer to the floor until he’s lying on my carpet. I pull back just to admire him. It could be the joint talking, but he's so pretty. Every part of him, in every moment – but especially like this. Cheeks flushed, eyes hooded and lips red from what we've done. I want to kiss him badly – so I do.

Nothing matters. Not me, not Kieran, not the girl. There's only us and a stolen dance. Right now, he's mine. Not hers. And I intend to enjoy it.

One hand goes down to grip his waist, then slides up under his hoodie – my hoodie, I notice with a grin – and runs along his sides. The way he shivers makes the heat in my stomach blossom, so I keep sliding my hand up and up until he gets the hint and takes the hoodie off. He doesn’t look it, but he has a toned stomach. His abs flex and relax as I move in again. He doesn't say anything, and neither do I, but we understand each other. In moments like these, we're completely in sync – we don't have to talk about it.

I go back to kissing him, and I sneak my hand into his hair, lightly tugging it just to feel him gasp. I get drunk off of his sounds, so I do it again, just a little harder. He whimpers this time, arcing into me. I don't want to pull away, but the warmth has become unbearable. I lean back to take off my shirt, then start tugging at Kieran’s pants. He lifts his hips up, and they slide down easily, leaving him bare. I love his body so much. It’s the perfect mixture of lean and muscular, and it suits him.

I sit back on my legs and push his legs up then out, and dive down to lick a stripe up his length. Kieran absolutely keens, hands shooting down to entangle themselves in my hair. I love making him lose control, so that's what I do. My lips wrap around him, and I pump him in and out of my mouth, slowly at first, but when he tugs fistfuls of my hair, I increase my speed. He becomes unravelled – the noises I love so much spilling out of him. He writhes beneath me, and I come up just to see the desperation on his face. He looks wrecked – his hair dishevelled, his bottom lip between his teeth and his breathing erratic.

His hands let go and start pulling at the strings of my pants. His whines are music to my ears, so I watch him struggle until he huffs and throws his hands over his red face in a fit. I let out another laugh, and finally take them off, chucking them in some far corner of my room.

I prep him quickly, but there's something different in this encounter that makes both of us impatient. I lock eyes with him as I enter, gentle as I can. The urge to go fast is overshadowed by something else – something that makes me want to make this last forever. I want him, like this, for the rest of time. I want to make it good, I want to make this special. I refuse to let this be just another notch on our bedpost. I want him – more than anything.

Our hips flush together, but I never break eye contact with Kieran. It's like we're locked in a silent staring contest. If I blink, or if he speaks, this moment, this feeling, will disappear. And I can't let that happen. The way he's looking at me makes my heart pound in my chest, but not just from lust. There's something else.

I start to pull out, then thrust back in at a leisurely pace. His legs wrap around my waist; his ankles hooking to pull me in closer, closer, closer. I fall forward, bracing myself with my arms beside his head. Our noses are almost touching, but I'm still looking at his eyes, searching for something. I don't know what, I don't know why, but it's like there's a message in there, waiting for me to find. But I can't ask him. We don't talk about this – we can't. I'm not willing to break the spell, not even if it means I'll finally find what I'm looking for.

He moans, mouth falling open in ecstasy as I hit somewhere deep inside him. Kieran reaches one arm up to pull me into a kiss. It's not like our others. It's not fast, desperate and sloppy. It's slow. It's soft. It's...

The thought leaves my head, and it's just me and him again. Only the two of us, here, in our own world. How it should be.

I speed up – not enough to disrupt whatever the electric feeling surrounding us is, but enough that his head thuds against the floor and his moans increase tenfold. They reverberate inside my head, inside my soul. I love this.

I love...

He starts pushing back to meet me, tightening every time we collide, and it drives me crazy. I attach myself to his neck, biting lightly and sucking a dark bruise there. He’s mine. This is proof.

His legs start to slip down, his hand loosening, and I can tell he's close. I lift my head back up to look at him. He smiles ever-so-slightly, his eyes softening as he gazes up at me. I know I’m giving him the same look back – one so full of tenderness and endearment. We’ve always been known to copy each other. It’s like we’re a single soul split into two, and this is us reconnecting. I don’t want it to end.

Still, my breath starts to stutter, thrusts faltering, until I'm spilling inside of him. He releases too, whining high and loud as we rock together for a few moments, carrying out this high.

My arms shake, so I pull out and gently lower myself beside him, staring up at the spinning ceiling with Kieran beside me. This is paradise, I think. I look back at the boy catching his breath and catch him staring at me, and all I can think is, You're my paradise.

And I tell him.

Kieran frowns at me as if he's trying to figure out what I mean. I don't explain any further – I’ve already forgotten what I said. All I care about is him. All I want is him.

I inch forward, pressing our bodies together, and just hold him. But that's not enough – the warmth is back, flooding my veins, making my fingertips burn in the best way possible as they rest on his cheeks. And I kiss him. Not because I'm being driven to by teenage hormones, but because I want to.

It feels right, but at the same time, I’m drowning in guilt. He has someone else. And I’m stealing him for myself. Still, he moves in for another, and who am I to deny him? We never kiss outside of this – it’s another one of those things we don’t talk about – but I realise now that this is what I want. I want to feel his lips on mine whenever and wherever, not just in the dark. Not just behind closed doors.

The thought would scare me if I could comprehend it beyond the haze in my mind. As it stands though, the realisation feels unimportant. All that matters is that we stay connected like this.

After a while, the tiredness hits me, so I pull back to smile down at him.

“What?” he asks, whispering, so the bubble isn’t broken. He’s smiling too, which lights the flame in my chest again.

I let out a content sigh and try to stand. I stumble a little but find my footing soon enough, and I help Kieran up. I grasp his tiny hands in mine, intertwining our fingers and stepping closer, bending my neck down so our foreheads touch. I kiss him again out of instinct, savouring the moment. He doesn’t react negatively, so I keep doing whatever thought pops into my head. I start to cross my room, one hand still gripping his.

“Where are we going?”

“Shower,” is all I reply. It’s enough. Kieran follows me into my bathroom without another word.

I twist the taps, testing the water with my arm until it’s perfect. I want it to be just right for him – I don’t know why. It just has to be.

I finally motion for him to step in, and he does, shivering slightly when the spray hits him but relaxing almost immediately. I pull him in, holding him against me. His arms hesitantly wrap around me, like he’s testing my reaction. I grin, not that he can see it, and rest my chin on top of his head. His hold tightens, more sure of himself. I shut my eyes, letting the water run down my face.

A feeling of content washes over me. Holding him feels right. He fits perfectly within my arms. I don’t know how long we stand there for, but it doesn’t matter.

“Mateo?” he speaks up after a while. I hum, still not letting him go. “Are you okay?”

I ignore the question and dive straight into what’s wrong. “Don’t leave,” I tell him. I don’t think he understands, but I feel him nod.

“I’m right here.”

“Don’t leave for her,” I try again, voice low and thick with fear.

Kieran goes quiet, mulling over his words. I screw my eyes shut tighter and strengthen my grip on him as if he’s going to slip through my fingers and down the drain if I give him the chance.

“You’re the only one on my mind,” he finally replies. There it is again – the slight inflection in his voice that lets me know there’s something he’s not saying.

But it’s good enough for now.