A Kiss Is Just a Kiss

Cody

He was slouched on my couch, watching me expectantly, his blue eyes shining brilliantly.

"So yeah. I just want to try it.” He rubbed his bottom lip as if he’d already kissed me. “It’s not a big deal.”

Aiden Pike was an Adonis. Simply put, one of the most beautiful guys I'd ever seen. And he knew it too. Not that I thought he was beautiful, though by his actions and words, he probably did; he knew that pretty much everyone thought he was beautiful. He didn’t strut but carried himself in such a way that drew the eye. Maybe beautiful is not le mot juste, it has such a feminine connotation and Aiden Pike is not remotely feminine; his features sharp and striking. But beautiful rang in my mind and silently on my lips every time I saw him. Even slouching as he was, one leg up on the couch, the other stretched out in front of him, his gray sweats draping him, revealing things an untrained eye might not notice; he was captivating.

How we had become friends is a mystery to me. I'll admit, I had a sneaking suspicion that there was some sort of bet going on behind my back, à la Cruel Intentions.

You’d think I’d remember that first realization that we were friends, the proverbial lightbulb moment. Maybe I didn’t believe we were friends, maybe I was waiting for the other shoe to drop and the ruse to be up. Maybe, I watch too many movies.

"Let me get this straight; you, Mr. Popular with the girls, Mr. I-Can-Have-Anyone-I-Want, you: Aiden Pike, want to kiss me: Cody Beaumont?" I’ve been told I gesture a lot when I talk. I didn’t see it until this very moment.

His smirk was dizzying; that mouth, those lips, beautiful and mesmerizing. And he had a dimple, just one. I suppose he had two, but the one was very prominent. “Well, I normally just go by Aiden, but yeah, I want to kiss you."

I got up from the Lazy Boy and retreated to the kitchen. “Why me?" Don't get me wrong, sure I was cute, but in comparison, I was the generic brand in plain packaging

“Why not?" He countered, casually. He stood at the kitchen bar, watching me.

“Be still my beating heart. You’re such a sweet talker.” I drawled in my best southern belle. I wasn’t expecting some grand exclamation. I love you, not her.

Maybe, I read too many books too. “What about your girlfriend?” I prompted.

Aiden rolled his eyes shrugging off my question. “It's a win-win situation." He threw his arms wide. Look what you’re getting.

Okay, maybe sometimes he did strut. “Win-win, huh? How so?” I was not going to cave in so easily.

"Look, I know." He walked around the breakfast bar and was out of sight for a moment before he rounded the corner, then closed the few steps between us. I tried to look away.

"I've seen the way you look at me." He leaned forward and whispered, his breath tickling my neck, his lips grazing against my ear. "You undress me with your eyes. Tell me you don’t want to kiss me?” He pulled away. His damned smirk told me the question was rhetorical.

I blushed. It was true. I couldn't even count the number of times I'd undressed him in my mind. Of course, it didn't help that he had no modesty, none whatsoever. If I waited long enough, I wouldn’t have to undress him.

The first time we hung out, this was like right before the new semester started again, we were over at my apartment. My apartments have this rinky dinky little pool and he wanted to use it. Why I don't know, the pool at his parents’ house is huge. I had to force him to put on a pair of my swim shorts. That didn't stop him from dropping trow, right in front of me, not a care in the world. By the end of the afternoon, he was swimming buck naked while I was walking around with a giant towel wrapped around my waist, hiding my excitement. It didn’t occur to me that he might like me.

"How about this. You let me kiss you and I will let you suck me off. Y'all like that sort of thing."

I didn't know whether I was suddenly excited or pissed off. "Y'all?" I looked at him, incredulous. He did not just say that!

"Yeah, “you know. Gay…” He stopped himself as I quirked an eyebrow. "Come on, you know what I mean." He tried to laugh it off.

I’d never told him I was gay. It wasn’t something you declared openly. Or maybe it wasn’t something I could openly declare. especially not to your new blatantly straight, apparently slightly homophobic new friend. I wasn’t one for proclamations.

“First off, you arrogant prick, the fact that you're asking to kiss me in the first place s pretty fucking gay. Second, believe me when I tell you if I were to suck you off, not only would you like it, but you'd be begging me to do it again." I wasn’t one for bragging either. What’s gotten into me.

“I don’t know why you’re getting all… I'm just asking and offering you something in return." My boastful bragging seemed to not affect him. I didn’t know how our conversation ventured from a simple kiss to oral sex.

He took two steps back and dared to pull his t-shirt off. His abs were perfectly sculpted, the definition so exquisitely chiseled, I couldn't help but stare. I wanted to trace fingers or my tongue along his lines. His arms, shoulders, chest; were all flawless. I swallowed, searching my suddenly bloodless brain for a retort, a quip, any sort of witty reply that might negate my jaw dropped reaction to him.

"You want me, Beaumont. And you can have a taste, just this once, for a kiss." He untied his sweats and let them puddle around his ankles. He was going commando.

"Come on!" I croaked, incredulous. This was not happening.

He reached across the two steps between us and took my hands pulling me closer. He placed one of my palms flat against his chest. I could feel his heart hammering. Was he afraid? He took a deep breath then guided my other hand lower. I felt him growing, hardening in my grasp. "One kiss." He teased. It was just a whisper. Reaching behind me, he untucked my shirt, his fingers lingering on the exposed flesh then he pulled my shirt up and off as well.

This was not happening. I kept saying it over and over in my head, unable to utter the words aloud. I don’t know if I thought it was just too incredulous, the stuff of dreams, my dreams, or I was in disbelief.

With a skilled hand, he finessed my jeans open and let them drop. He slipped a hand inside the waistband of my Calvin Kleins. I shuddered as he sent tremors quaking through me as he deftly palmed my dick.

In my wildest of dreams, I couldn't imagine anything more erotic, more sensuous. Well, I take that back. This was probably one of my wildest dreams. Maybe I was dreaming right now.

I leaned into him, relishing his excitement, desperate to give in to his request. His lips glistened and I wanted nothing more than to taste them. He slid his hand around the base of my neck and drew me into the kiss.

I couldn't help but wonder if he'd done this before. It was a foregone conclusion that he'd been with girls. There were stories and at least one illuminating video to validate that, but the ease at which he kissed me, the eagerness at which he accepted my tongue; there was a familiarity to his actions that seemed too natural. I couldn't help but wonder about the sex. Being impaled, feeling his weight on top of me, his teeth biting me, his fingers digging into my hips. I moaned into his mouth as he kissed me hungrily.

The kiss was over before I knew it though I stood motionless, my face upturned, breathless in the eternal moment of it. Aiden's eyes were closed too. He looked blissful, even more beautiful. I leaned in to kiss him again.