It seemed strange that, in all the times he and Dimitri had been dancing around each other, Arlo had never been to Dimitri’s apartment. Not even as friends. Dimitri had called it depressing, but it looked wonderfully normal to Arlo. There was a small kitchen, a tiny table sat nearby with two chairs, and there was a decent-sized living room with a comfortable-looking sofa and a big tv.
Arlo’s apartment was half the size, and he had to cook everything in a microwave or by using a hot plate. And his manager had control of the thermostat, so Arlo spent most fall and winter nights buried under a dozen blankets.
Dimitri’s apartment was tidy with everything in its place, except for the shoes Dimitri slipped off beside the door. Arlo did the same, butterflies taking flight in his belly as Dimitri smiled at him, pulling him towards the closed door to the left.
He was really going to have sex with Dimitri. More sex, he corrected, goosebumps erupting along his skin as he remembered the heat of Dimitri’s mouth on him. When the door closed behind them, Arlo reached for the hem of his shirt.
Dimitri’s hands gripped his wrists gently, just as Arlo had done to him earlier. “Whatcha doin’?”
Arlo frowned. “Getting naked. Isn’t that how this usually works?”
Arlo supposed they could leave their clothes on. It wouldn’t be the first time some guy just wanted access to the only part they found worthy of their attention. He’d thought Dimitri was different. He’d called Arlo his boyfriend. In public. Maybe that was all for show?
Dimitri sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Arlo close, resting his chin on Arlo’s diaphragm, gazing up at him to ask, “You got another date after me?”
Arlo flustered. “What? No.”
Dimitri grinned up at him. “I’m teasing.”
“Oh,” Arlo said, voice dull.
Arlo was suddenly hyper-aware of every atom in his own body, but it felt like he’d lost control of it. He was nervous, and there was a panic setting in that hadn’t been there moments before. He was ruining this. He was ruining everything.
“Are you okay?” Dimitri asked, voice gentle.
Arlo shook his head. “No. I’m not. I have no idea what we’re doing here, what I’m doing here.”
Dimitri frowned. “I thought we were both pretty clear about what we wanted in the car? But if you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to.”
Arlo’s heart was slamming into his ribs. Everything was overwhelming him. “I know what we’re doing, I just don’t know how we’re doing it.”
“How?” Dimitri asked.
Arlo flushed to the roots of his hair, and he closed his eyes before saying, miserably, “I don’t know how you want me. Like, you don’t want me to take off my clothes, so, like, do you just want a quick and dirty hookup? Am I supposed to do…something? I don’t know what to do.”
Dimitri pulled Arlo down until he perched on his lap. Once they were eye to eye, Dimitri said, “Hi.”
“Hi,” Arlo managed, voice trembling.
“I need to be clear about something,” Dimitri said.
Arlo’s heart sank, tears springing to his eyes. This was always how it started, the dreaded, ‘Can we talk?’ speech. Old conversations dialed up in his thoughts, replaying in his head.
“I’m not looking for anything serious. I thought you knew that.”
“People don’t know I’m out yet. That’s all. Don’t be so needy.”
“My friends just wouldn’t get your vibe. You’re kind of a downer.”
“It’s for my career. You understand, don’t you, beautiful?”
“I want you in all the ways.”
“What?” Arlo asked, certain that he’d imagined Dimitri’s answer.
Dimitri gently captured Arlo’s wrists behind his back, leaning in to lick his way into his mouth in a way that was both sweet and dirty, grinding their hips together so Arlo could feel how hard he was.
“You heard me,” Dimitri said between kisses. “I have every intention of having you any way you’ll let me, and, believe me, I’ve had a lot of time to think about that. But I thought maybe I could just strip you naked first. I really want to see you naked in my bed.” He buried his face against Arlo’s neck. “Would that be okay?”
“Yeah,” Arlo said, breathless.
Dimitri pulled back to study his face. “You still look unsure.”
Arlo swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’m not unsure about you. I just want you to enjoy this and I feel like I’m ruining it for you.”
“You get that we’re both supposed to enjoy this, right?” Dimitri asked. Not in Arlo’s experience. There was a very specific hierarchy of needs and Arlo’s always came last or not at all. Usually, the latter. “Jesus,” Dimitri whispered. “You really don’t know that. Do you?”
Arlo’s face grew hot, shame burning through him like acid. It took every ounce of self-control not to bolt for the door. “Should I leave? I feel like I already screwed this up.”
“Arlo?”
Was it possible to die of embarrassment? “Yeah?”
Dimitri kissed his lips, his jaw, then nuzzled the spot behind his ear. “Can I take your clothes off? Please?”
Dimitri still wanted to do this? That seemed all but impossible. But this night was full of a million impossible things. Arlo had broken up with Holden. Arlo had murdered Holden. He’d gone to a frat party, had stood in a warehouse full of killers. Dimitri had gone to his knees for Arlo in that same warehouse. What was one more impossible thing?
Arlo gave a stilted nod. “Yeah.”
Dimitri’s grin was almost feral. He released Arlo’s wrists to peel his shirt over his head, tossing it blindly behind him. His arms slipped around Arlo’s back to grip his shoulders, holding him still while he ran his tongue up the center of his chest before dipping into the hollow of his throat.
Arlo’s cock strained against the zipper of his too tight borrowed pants. He couldn’t stop himself from rolling his hips against Dimitri, who gave a pleased rumble, pulling him closer. Each time Dimitri ground his hips against him, flames licked along his nerve endings. It felt too fucking good.
Arlo gave a broken moan as Dimitri dipped his head, taking one hard nipple into his mouth, sucking it gently before tugging on it with his teeth. Arlo buried his hand in Dimitri’s hair, guiding him to his other nipple, desperate to feel him everywhere.
Arlo ran his hands up under Dimitri’s hoodie, his fingers feeling their way along the defined ridges of his abs, earning another noise of approval. But when he reached for Dimitri’s hoodie, Dimitri batted his hands away. “Uh-uh. This is about you.”
Arlo frowned. “Isn’t it about us?”
Dimitri looked him in the eye. “We have our whole lives to make it about us. This one time can’t it just be about you? I want to be the one who makes you feel good.”
Arlo once more sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, and Dimitri tugged it free, leaning in to run his tongue along the swollen flesh.
Why was it so hard for Arlo to just say yes? They didn’t have time for that rabbit hole of unresolved trauma tonight. “Yeah. Okay. But I want you inside me?”