Black Velvet (46) (Patreon)

(Hey guys! This first kiss is a lot tamer than in previous versions.  The reason for this is that  I think it suits the flow of Oliver and Tobias’ characterization.  There’s a certain growth between them that I want to portray realistically this time around.  

That isn’t to say that things won’t get a lot more hot and heavy in future chapters, 😳

I was so happy to read all your comments on the last chapter! I’m so happy that you guys are happy/satisfied with the changes! I hope you continue to feel that way! Thanks so much! ❤️)

—

"Back...?"  I repeat the tail end of his sentence, stunned at the thought of Tobias kissing me, though I kissed him only moments before.

My nerves are alive, my heart fluttering in my chest, and I'm more hyper-aware of our proximity than ever before.

Tobias is tilting my face to the side, eyes scanning my features slowly — with a look more open and intense than I'm accustomed to. I stay silent, can feel my heart thundering in my chest. I should say something but can't find a way to wrap my head around the invitation.

I meet his eyes.  His irises have so many hidden shades of grey that reflect dimly in the blue lighting of the television; his walls stripped and letting in light,

"Do you?"  I whisper, like somehow, someone might hear me.  Tobias' face is close to mine, and he leans further into me, our gaze weighted.  I look up at him from under my lashes.  I feel like he really sees me.  I feel like I see him.  "Um.  Do you really...  Want to kiss — me?"

"... Do you want me to?"  Tobias laughs again, and his tone is a low thrum through my chest, through the tops of my reddening ears, the nerves that light the tips of my fingers.  It's warm, unyielding, and everything that I had suspected him of being.

I nod.

I nod again.

"... Okay, then."

I feel my hands tremble when his encircles my wrist — when his thumb runs up the pulse of it.  His jaw is tilted enough that when I look up, all I can see is him, his dark eyes and his honesty, his sincere and startling desire.  My skin is a forest fire of forming goosebumps, my cheeks warm, eyes wider.

His regard flickers over my face before his gaze rests on mine.  The credits feel louder, my heartbeat in my ears.

"Don't regret it, Oliver."

Black velvet.

That's what his eyes are.  Dark, somehow soft.

"Regret — ?"  My quiet sentence dies.  Tobias leans forward, and suddenly his hand is steadying the arch of my back, warm from where he holds me, his nose against mine, the tilt of his head something promising.

I blush, nerves alive, blinking — and then his lips meet mine, a soft and sure gesture, parted and imploring.

It's everything.

I feel my hands shake like a leaf against my chest as he pulls me closer. He wraps his arms around me until I meld against him, my breath quivering — a gasp turning into something heavy.

"It's okay."  He hums against me.

Tobias pretends, for a moment, to be gentle with his affection.  And in that, I let out a broken sigh — too surprised to be embarrassed by the unwelcome sound.

I'm unsure if I should press back, inexperienced to a fault, but I can already feel my nerves spiking when his tongue swipes against my lips — I have to lift my hands to hold onto his shoulders because I feel dizzy with a sudden rush of want. I open my mouth just enough for him to slip past — and I melt.

He's kissing me.

Tobias is kissing me.

I think, when his tongue slides against mine roughly, when his fist lifts to curl into my hair tightly, and he pulls me forward, hands slinking underneath the backs of my thighs and squeezing.  There are too many sheets beneath us, and my pillow sliding with our movements, fabric, and then skin — too much and too little.

My thoughts dance between the two until Tobias presses me against the dark blue of my comforter.  I feel his hips pressed into mine, his hands lifting my legs to hook around them.  Another unwelcome noise slips into his mouth, and another, because I can't hide the enormity of what I feel.

Tobias can't either.  I could be happy just for that.

His movements are something reckless in one touch, somehow fluid in another, another motion — another new noise, my hands winding desperately in the cotton of his nightshirt.

There's something about the familiarity of it all that makes everything feel different — and then feel like more. My brother is down the hall.  My parents are downstairs.  This is the room I grew up in — and everything is changing.

My alarm for work blips quietly in the background, and I throw a hand back to silence it with spread and clumsy fingers pushing every button atop it.

I can feel Tobias' squeeze return to my waist afterward, and goosebumps are lighting on my skin where he flexes his fingers in quiet restraint.  My fingers catch in his shirt, pulling him closer, and he makes a sound like one I've never heard from him, low and secret, and I feel everything — amplified, trembling,

"Time for work." Tobias breaths against my lips, mint and something like winter rain.

I don't want to let go, but he pulls away.

It's over.

My alarm blips a second time as Tobias drags himself from my space, with a creak from my aging bed frame.  Whatever haze has settled across us won't lift, but I suppose it has to.

Tobias lets his wandering hands fall back at his sides.

So do I.

He leans back from the bed, and his gaze flickers over the Carina Nebula poster next to my window, the books stacked on top of my dresser, the calendar just above it — he takes them over my closet, the telescope that's packed up next to the folding doors.

"...Tobias."

My lips feel swollen from his kiss.  My heart aches like he's been holding it instead.

"Hm?"

"Um.  Do you like me?" My voice is small and sudden. My words run together.  I should be embarrassed by asking something so stupid.  But I can't.  I've told him — and I... 

 I need to know.

Tobias looks at my little snow globe, and his book right next to it.

"...I shouldn't." He smiles softly, so sadly that my heart hurts. "But it's obvious.  Isn't it?"

He passes me my uniform that's thrown over my bed railing,

"I wish you didn't feel so safe."

— my heartbeat doesn't quiet until he slides out my bedroom door.

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