First Time, Last Time

Nate's Point of View

This had never crossed my mind before. I had no idea sex with a guy could feel like this. I'd always thought about it vaguely, joked about it even, but never seriously. And now? Now, I was breathless, trying to stay in control of something I had clearly underestimated.

I'd let Seth top for our first time. Not because I wanted to be submissive—I definitely didn’t—but because he was nervous. I could tell he needed the comfort, the familiarity, the illusion of control.

So I gave it to him. Not gonna lie, it wasn’t all roses at first. It felt like someone took a steel bat to my spine in the beginning. But I didn’t let it show—not fully. I wanted him to feel safe, wanted.

And then...

Sweet holy Christ.

He kissed me, deep and slow, pouring so much of himself into it that I almost forgot the ache. His hips began moving, unsure at first, but gaining rhythm. I clenched my fingers into his shoulder the second he brushed a spot inside me that made my back arch. Fuck.

"Do that again," I breathed.

"This?" he asked, thrusting forward again, grazing that same spot.

I let out a low moan and bit my lip, my head dropping back against the pillow. That sweet friction came again, and again, and again. I felt like I was floating—high on pleasure, high on him. My body trembled with how close I was.

"Oh g-god... I—I'm close," I stuttered, my voice barely above a whisper. He started slamming into me a little harder, more confidently.

"You like me pounding you like this, Nathan?" he asked, voice thick with lust as he rolled his hips just right.

My eyes snapped open, narrowing.

"Don't you fucking dare, bitch," I gritted. He just laughed, leaning down to kiss me hard, biting my lip before moving to my jaw, then my earlobe.

"You feel so good wrapped around me," he groaned. "I could never get tired of this. You make it feel like heaven."

His words, his touch, the way he moved—everything made my stomach twist and coil. My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to keep myself grounded, but I was losing the battle. His voice in my ear, his shaft hitting that same spot—it was all too much.

"Fuck, Seth—" I cried out, spilling onto my stomach with a moan I couldn’t hold back. I really hoped no one heard us.

Then again—fuck it.

I didn’t care.

I could feel Seth’s breath hot against my ear, his body tense but trying to steady himself as he moved inside me.

I had to admit, there was something about the way he looked—vulnerable yet desperate—that pushed me further into this strange mix of dominance and tenderness.

His grip on my hips tightened, but his eyes flickered with uncertainty, like he was trying to gauge how far I could go, how much I could handle.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice rough and a little breathless.

The softness in his tone almost made me lose my grip. I wanted to be in control, wanted to keep him on edge, make him crave every second of it, but the way he kept checking on me—every little glance, every tiny whisper of care—had me questioning my own resolve.

“Stop asking me,” I growled, but it wasn’t as harsh as it probably should’ve been. “You’re doing fine, Seth. Just fucking move.”

It wasn’t that I wanted to be harsh. It was just… I was trying to hold on to something, anything that kept me grounded while he moved inside me.

It felt good, but in a way that had my head spinning, my body responding in ways I wasn’t ready for. Still, I wanted him to feel what I felt—wanted to show him that I wasn’t some delicate thing that could be broken.

I was in control here. Even if it felt like my body was betraying me.

His movements grew more confident, quicker now, the rhythm building as I felt him push deeper. It was a mix of sharp pleasure and something darker, something almost like a hunger inside me that I didn’t quite understand.

My fingers dug into his shoulder, pulling him down so I could kiss him, hard and demanding, trying to take some control back. He moaned into my mouth as I coaxed him deeper, my tongue tangling with his as he began to fuck into me with more purpose.

But then, there was that flicker in his eyes. Something changed—softened. He slowed down, his gaze locking with mine in a way that made me pause, make sure I was seeing it right.

It wasn’t the desperation I had expected, not the frantic need for control or validation. It was something else.

Fear? Maybe.

Vulnerability, for sure.

But there was also something else. A quiet trust, an understanding that I was in control, that I was the one guiding him through this.

That was when I realized: Seth wasn’t just submissive in this act—he was giving me the space to guide him, not just physically but emotionally, too.

I pulled him closer, wrapping my legs around his waist as I shifted beneath him. “Don’t stop,” I murmured, my voice rough, almost pleading despite myself. “You’re doing fine.”

His eyes flickered again, soft and a little unsure, but the tension in his shoulders began to relax. He moved with me now, not in a frantic rush but with the slow, deliberate rhythm of someone willing to follow, someone wanting to be led.

I felt a surge of something unfamiliar—something that wasn’t just physical. It was the way he was looking at me now, the way his body softened with each thrust, the way he let me lead.

It made me want to be rougher, to take him further, show him that I could do this, that I could handle it. So, I did. I tightened my legs around him, making him stay deep, feeling every inch of him, and then I pulled him into a kiss that was full of everything I couldn’t say with words.

“You’re mine,” I breathed against his lips, low and demanding. "Don’t forget that."

He moaned softly in response, a soft shudder running through him as his movements faltered for just a moment, as though the words hit him in a place deeper than just his body.

But then he picked up the pace again, his hands gripping my hips harder as he lost himself in the moment, giving in to the feeling, to the need.

I felt my own body responding, the pressure building between us as his thrusts became more insistent. My heart raced in time with the rhythm, the urgency of the moment pulling me higher and higher, until I couldn't hold it back any longer.

My breath caught, a sharp gasp slipping from my lips as the world seemed to explode around me.

“Fucking hell, Seth,” I gasped, unable to hold back the groan that ripped through me as I came undone, spilling out in shuddering waves.

It was intense—too much, too fast, but in the best way possible. I dug my fingers into his back, pulling him down into me as I rode out the last waves of the orgasm.

But even then, I wasn’t done. Seth wasn’t done. As I came down from the high, I felt him twitch inside me, his grip on me tightening, his pace faltering as he reached his own peak.

With a low groan, he spilled into me, his breath hot and ragged against my skin.

For a long moment, neither of us moved. He stayed there, pressed into me, his forehead resting against mine as we both caught our breath.

I could feel his heartbeat against my chest, and his body trembling slightly—whether from the intensity of the moment or from some other reason, I didn’t know. But I could feel it, that vulnerability, that softness I hadn’t expected from him.

I pulled him in, my arms wrapping around him as I held him close, soothing him in the aftermath.

“You did good,” I whispered, running my hand through his hair.

The words feeling strangely comforting coming from me, even though I hadn’t meant them to sound so… tender.

He looked up at me, his eyes wide and still clouded with the aftereffects of everything we’d just shared. “You sure?” he asked, voice soft, like he needed me to confirm it.

I smiled, brushing a thumb over his cheek. “Yeah, I’m sure. You were perfect.”

His face softened, a shy, almost embarrassed smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but... this was better than I thought.”

I chuckled, gently pushing him off me so I could sit up. My body was sore, the kind of soreness that would probably make me regret it tomorrow, but for now?

For now, I couldn’t care less.

I pulled Seth close again, kissing the top of his head as we lay back, letting the quiet moments between us settle in.

Tomorrow, we’d talk.

Tomorrow, we’d figure out where we went from here.

But for now, I was content with just this—just being with him, feeling the weight of everything settle over us.

He groaned something close to a curse, then collapsed on top of me, panting. I could feel his heartbeat pounding against my back. He pulled out gently and disposed of the condom, then slid back in beside me.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked, propped up on one elbow, eyes soft.

I gave him a small smile and kissed his lips. "I'm fine, Seth. You don’t have to ask me that every time."

"I can't help it," he said with a light blush, lying next to me. "I just want to know if I hurt you."

"It hurt at first, yeah," I admitted, stretching. "But not anymore."

He hesitated. "And I want you to be brutally honest this time. Was I... any good?"

I laughed softly, sitting up a little. "No. You were mind-blowing. Honestly, I didn’t think sex with a guy would be like that. I didn’t expect it to be..."

"Amazing?" His face flushed a bit.

"Not the word I was looking for, but yeah—it fits."

He grinned and I rolled my eyes, slipping out of bed and heading for the bathroom. He followed, and we showered quietly. Got dressed for bed and crawled under the covers. He turned to look at me, his expression unreadable.

"What?" I asked.

"Don’t you think it’d feel better if we cuddled?" He asked, quietly.

I sighed, knowing exactly where this was going. He was all about the post-sex cuddles. Since the moment he kissed me, he’s been on a mission to melt every hard edge I had.

The problem? It was working.

I laid beside him and let my head rest against his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and for a second, it felt... perfect.

Real.

Like this wasn’t just lust or convenience or whatever.

"I like this," I admitted.

He chuckled, softly. "Me too. You’ve never cuddled with anyone before me?"

"No. Aside from my family, no one."

"What about all the girls you’ve slept with? Not even once?"

"I leave after sex," I said honestly. "No cuddling. No kisses goodbye. Stuff like that gets you attached. And getting attached? That leads to falling. Falling leads to getting hurt. And I don’t want to get hurt."

"You’re afraid of love?" He asked.

"No," I said, a little too fast. "I want love. I want someone to love me and give me no reason to question it. Loyalty. Faithfulness. What my dads have—that’s what I want. I’ll fight for that, but I won’t fight for someone who isn’t worth it."

He was quiet for a while. Then:

"What if someone did love you like that, but you didn’t feel the same?"

"Then they don’t know me well enough to feel that way. I’m cocky, a smartass. I get that from my dad, Leon. I always tell girls beforehand—it’s just sex. If they catch feelings, that’s on them. Honestly, I don’t even get why people like me. Aside from the looks, I mean."

"For me it’s different," he said, voice quiet. "I’ve liked you since I was sixteen. At first, sure—it was your appearance. But the more I got to know you, even your annoying traits just... made me like you more. Being around your family, seeing how sweet and caring you are underneath all that attitude—you’re strong, Nathan. And I admire that. Sometimes I wish I had someone who could be my strength."

I stayed quiet, letting his words settle over me. His fingers traced slow circles on my side. It was calming.

"I get what you’re saying," I murmured. "But it’s not love, Seth. Not yet."

He frowned, looking at me. "How can you be so sure? These past two weeks... we’ve had fun. I know I was with Amber, but something changed between us. You can’t deny that."

"Are you saying you love me?" I asked, sitting up. He smiled shyly.

"I’m not sure, okay? But when I see you with someone else, I get jealous. When I’m near you, my heart races. Even when I was just flirting with you, I meant it. I just pretended I didn’t because I knew you hated me. I used to imagine your looks of disgust were just you hiding your feelings in public."

"So you were delusional," I said flatly, but there was a hint of amusement in my tone. "I really did hate you. And after the Serena thing? You were a dick. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t still wonder if this was some long game to screw me over."

He pulled me back down beside him, his arms warm around me.

"Nathan, I’m not trying to screw you over. I want to see where this can go. If we can go from hate to... whatever this is in three weeks, then I’m willing to wait until you tell me you’re falling in love with me. Because I know I will."

I didn’t say anything. I just kissed him, slow and soft, then whispered, "Let’s get some sleep."

He nodded. "Can you hold me instead?" He asked, quietly.

I nodded and he turned his back to me, pulling my arm around his waist. The comforter pulled further over us and I inhaled the scent of his shampoo. He relaxed against me, rubbing his feet against mine.

"Good night, Nathan."

I sighed, eyes closing. "It’s Nate."

"Hmm, you're whoever I say you are." He laughed, rubbing his leg against mine.

・・・

"I can’t believe you guys have two dads. That’s so freaking cool," Kris said over breakfast.

"How is that cool?" Collin asked. "Not saying it’s not—but why?"

"Because if they’re gay, they won’t be afraid to say it," Kris replied.

Seth walked in then, dressed in blue jeans and a white long-sleeved tee. He looked good—too good. He sat next to me and leaned in.

"You alright?" He whispered.

Oh my God, he needs to stop asking me that.

"I’m fine. You?"

He nodded, squeezing my hand under the table.

"What’s going on between you two?" Declan asked, eyeing us.

"What do you mean?" I asked, feigning innocence.

He narrowed his brows. "You’re not arguing anymore. Always smiling. It’s like you’re stealing my best friend."

"Maybe he is," Seth said with a grin.

"Let me tell you what I noticed," Leon said.

"What?" Nick asked.

"Nate always gets pissed when he loses a game. Doesn’t talk for three days. He lost yesterday—and now look at him. Maybe having Seth around isn’t such a bad thing."

"I’d almost believe they’re gay," Kris joked.

"Maybe we are," Seth teased. I shot him a look, but no one took him seriously. That was just how he was.

"No one believes that," Nick laughed.

"He lets Seth call him Nathan. We can’t even say that without getting glared at," Evie added.

"Maybe Seth is special," Lee said.

"He’s not," I said, deadpan. "He’s just hard-headed. Every time I tell him it’s Nate, he says, ‘Okay, Nathan.’ He’s annoying and slow."

After breakfast, everyone trickled out. Nick waited in the car while Seth searched for his socks. I told him they were in his football boots—in his bag—but of course, he didn’t listen.

I walked upstairs and found him lying on my bed, grinning.

"Seth! We have to go to school. What the hell are you doing?!"

"Took you long enough," he said.

"What are you talking about?"

"I wanted a kiss before we left. Thought you’d pick up on that, babe."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Seth, are you serious? We could be halfway to school."

"Yeah, but I need your kisses. Like people need coffee."

He leaned in, brushing his lips against mine. He was so damn cheesy—and I hated that I loved it.

"You’re gonna get us caught," I muttered, grabbing him and kissing him hard. He smiled into it, kissing back just as fiercely. When he tried to deepen it, I pulled away.

"Oh come on, Nathan!"

I was already out the door.

"It’s Nate," I called over my shoulder.