The first time they kissed had been sweet and vulnerable, and full of joy. Surrounded by witnesses, though, it had also been dry and quick, more declaration than intent, a fast thing taken because you never know if you're going to get a second chance.
Paul remembered how chapped Manuel's lips had been, the hospital air, so sterile and dry, and the recently removed tubes had left behind their damage. He remembered the wave of embarrassment that had flooded him when he darted his eyes toward Manuel's parents, and a worried shame that they knew, had to know now that the fight which had led Paul to leave Manuel alone in the parking lot had been about this. A kiss. A declaration of feelings he'd been too afraid, too trapped in his box, to admit.
Now when they kissed, it was all heat and wet and hot, and Paul didn't want it to stop. He'd never felt this way, restless and terrified, excited, and so incredibly turned on. His lips were still wet from where they'd been kissing before; Manuel's tongue and teeth teasing him into a frenzy; his hips had taken on a life of their own, grinding against Manuel recklessly. He'd only stopped when Manuel had tugged on his hair and broken away, whispering, "Go lock the door. Then come back and we'll pray."
Pray? God, Paul thought as he'd turned the flimsy lock, the last thing he wanted right now was to think about God. He wanted to roll Manuel over, to touch him and kiss him and to do things to him, things he'd finally had the courage to learn about on the internet. But when he turned around to see Manuel with his tousled hair and his huge, bright eyes, he'd simply sank to his knees between Manuel's thighs, and held onto his hands, trying to pray, trying to think of God, and their love, and making it holy, but his cock was so hard that he had a rough time paying attention.
At the word "Amen", Manuel released Paul's hand, leaving them wanting, and they found a home on Manuel's hips, digging into his jeans, holding onto him hard. Manuel cupped Paul's face, his fingers soft and calloused at the same time, and tender in the way they lifted Paul's face from the attitude of prayer. Manuel's face was wide open, and lust quivered in Paul's gut, leaving him breathless as Manuel kissed him again.
God, it seemed so long ago – the day in the theater when he'd thought he'd explode from just the touch of Manuel's arm against his, just from the lure of his untouched hand. Now he felt that hyper-awareness everywhere. His entire body aching to be closer, to be touching.
Manuel's lips were hot and wet, his tongue soft and teasing. Paul whimpered and moved closer as Manuel moved away. Looking down, Paul saw Manuel's cock – uncut and so hard – pushing out of his open jeans. Paul hadn't even heard the zipper.
He didn't know what to expect. He hadn't thought about Manuel's cock too much, or rather he had, but mostly in abstract ways, his fantasies focusing on kissing, on feeling close, on moving together fully clothed, and on coming in his pants. Now it was in front of him, dark and full, quivering as Manuel pushed his jeans and boxers down his hips, and over his thighs. Paul moved back enough for Manuel to kick them down and off, leaving Manuel wearing just his shirt and nothing else. So much skin, bare feet to bare hip, and his cock jutting out so hard and strong. Paul felt like he'd forgotten how to breathe.
Manuel touched his face again, his fingers gentle and warm, and leaned down for a kiss. He took hold of Paul's hand, kissed the palm of it, open mouthed and wet, his eyes on Paul's face, and his expression sweet, and open. He kissed the palm again, a press of his lips, and then brought Paul's hand to his cock. It flexed in Paul's hand, a small pearl forming at the slit. So like his own, but different in length and girth, and Paul sucked in a breath as he tentatively stroked it and Manuel's hips tensed in response.
He wanted to look at Manuel's face, to see what he was thinking, to feel his love and affection shining from his eyes, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from Manuel's cock in his hand, couldn't stop thinking about his own dick, so helplessly trapped in his jeans, aching and twitching there, and he licked his bottom lip, studying the growing wetness around the slit, and he bent to kiss the head of Manuel's cock, a slightly open mouth kiss that brought the small pearl of pre-come into his mouth, a strange salty, tingling taste that coated his mouth quickly.
"Paul," Manuel breathed, his hands resting on Paul's head, and the sharp edges of his nails digging into Paul's scalp as Manuel tried to guide him down.
Paul opened and sucked him in, covering his teeth with his lips, like he'd read, and the thick weight of Manuel's cock on his tongue and lip, and the taste of his skin broke his reservations, and he sucked hard and fast, a quick rhythm that left Manuel keening and pulling at Paul's hair.
"Paul," Manuel gasped. "Stop."
Paul pulled away, grabbing his own cock through his jeans, and wiping at his mouth with his other hand. "Did I hurt you?"
Manuel shook his head, a teasing smile on his lips, as he said raggedly, "No, amigo, you nearly ended this party, though, and I kind of want to see you naked first."
Paul smiled, shyly, and ran his hands over Manuel's thighs, the hair against his palms making him shudder with want, and he bent his head to kiss and nuzzle there, his eyes falling on Manuel's balls, so tight against his cock, and he knew from his own experience how close Manuel was to blowing his load.
Manuel's hands pulled at Paul's hair, his voice cracking as he whispered, "Come on, take your shirt off at least? Please, amigo. I need to see you."
Paul stood up shakily, his hands trembling as he pulled his own shirt over his head, and unbuckled his jeans. The thought of Manuel touching him, stroking his cock, or taking his dick into his mouth made Paul feel faint with desire. He took deep breaths as he shucked his blue jeans, and when he pulled his boxers down, his cock slapped against his stomach, and Manuel's eyes went wide. "Dios mio, mi amor," Manuel whispered, grabbing his own cock hard, like he was trying not to come.
Paul felt heat rising from his own skin, the force of his desire and his embarrassment at being naked in front of the boy he loved combining to make him feel on fire, glowing from the inside out. Manuel sat up on the bed, rapidly pulling his own t-shirt off and throwing it aside, and he reached for Paul, his eyes huge and his mouth wet. "Come here, I want you."
Paul crawled onto the bed, and things happened quickly then. Skin on skin, cock slapping against cock, and their hips grinding together, as their mouths tasted skin, lips, and tongue. Manuel's hands on Paul's body were firm, large, and strong, stroking him, scratching him, pulling him against him tight, and Paul shook as he pulled away from Manuel's kiss, buried his face in his neck and shot his load on Manuel's stomach, whimpering and twitching in Manuel's arms, smearing the spunk between them.
Manuel kissed his neck and rubbed his back, before moving Paul's hand to his still hard cock, and Paul, shaken and still breathing hard, began to stroke it, watching in awe as it moved in his fist, the head sliding in and out, the foreskin slipping over and away, and he bit his lip when Manuel's hips began to move in unison, when his hand joined Paul's on his cock, showing him the speed and the grip he liked, and Paul couldn't look fast enough between Manuel's spurting cock and his face, and he felt vaguely frustrated that he didn't get to really see either, settling for kissing Manuel's cheek, nuzzling him, as Manuel shuddered through aftershocks, finally pulling Paul's hand away, whispering, "Enough, amigo. It's too much now."
And they clung to each other, naked, sticky, and sweaty, panting and kissing, laughing and slapping at each other's wandering hands playfully. "I love you," Paul said, feeling the rightness of it, the wonder of it all.
"Te amo," Manuel whispered in return. He glanced at the clock and said, "Now, amigo, we should get cleaned up, unless you want mi familia to catch us this way."
Paul jumped up, and Manuel laughed. "No need for panic. We have thirty minutes. You should have seen your face, as though my mother would be pounding on the door any second."
Paul collapsed back onto the bed beside Manuel, touching his face, drawing a line across his stomach, still sticky with their come, and up to his nipple, which he pinched hard. "Ow!" Manuel barked.
"I'll get a towel," Paul said, standing again and unlocking the door; he put his head out in the hallway carefully, just in case someone had come home, and then walked naked to the bathroom in the hallway, feeling brazen and strange.
He looked at himself in the mirror as he wet the towel with warm water. He was flushed, and a little sweaty. His eyes were shining, and he seemed pretty happy. Other than that, he didn't think he looked any different. He didn't think that Angie would even be able to tell. And his dad probably wouldn't for sure.
He splashed water on his face and washed off his own come-smeared stomach. He closed his eyes and searched inside of himself, looking for the sin of what he'd just done, and he couldn't find it anywhere. He opened his eyes and thanked God under his breath, and took the towel to Manuel.
Over dinner he wondered if Manuel's parents suspected anything, or maybe his brother Jaime who kept darting looks at Manuel over the potato that they were battling for the last of, but in the end Paul supposed that they either didn't know or simply didn't care.
Manuel used his new crutches to walk Paul to the door, and he leaned against Paul as they kissed their goodbye in the doorway. He whispered, "Come back tomorrow?"
Paul glanced over Manuel's shoulder at his family gathering to watch television in the living room.
"They're going into town around noon, and shouldn't be back until after dinner. It's a long day."
"Okay," Paul said. He'd never say no. He understood all too well the concept of not getting another chance.
"I love you," Manuel said. "You know that I do?"
"Yes," Paul said. "Do you?"
Manuel's eyes lit up and he said, "I knew before you did, idiot."
That night, Paul stared at his ceiling, and then got out of bed, checked to see if the condom was really in his wallet, and then sat at his desk, writing a prayer for his box. "Dear God, let me know what to do tomorrow. Let me make the right choice."
He'd never felt lust like this before, and he knew that just the fact that he'd bought condoms, and put one in his wallet meant that he was as good as gone. He was hard just thinking about whether or not it could happen, and whether or not it should. Manuel's body moved him in ways he didn't fully understand, but which had never happened with Angie. Just looking at Manuel's arm muscles moving as he pushed with his crutches, or seeing his light stubble shine in the sunlight made Paul feel crazy with a need to touch him, to move against him, to find a way into him. It was a need, and he sometimes felt like he would stop breathing if he didn't have it. He knew by the way Manuel looked at him that he felt the same.
The afternoon light filled Manuel's room, and Paul sat on the edge of his bed, watching as Manuel locked the door, and tossed the crutches aside. He stood with his back to the door, his bad leg not taking much weight, and his hands behind him, as though willing himself not to lunge and grab. Paul understood. He felt the same way.
"Paul," Manuel said. "We need to talk."
"Yeah, we do," Paul agreed.
"I need to know how far you want to go, because it was so good yesterday, I don't know if we'll be able to stop."
"I brought condoms," Paul said, the words tumbling from his mouth before he could stop them, before he could think of a better way to say it.
Manuel's eyes twinkled with amusement and he pressed his lips together, obviously fighting a smile, but failing utterly, and he gave up, laughing as he said, "I see. Well, talk about zero to sixty in five, amigo."
"I mean...just in case," Paul amended, flushing, his stomach knotting up.
Manuel laughed some more and he shoved his bangs out of his face. "Amigo, you are full of surprises." Manuel limped the few steps to the bed and sat down beside Paul, and it was a relief for Paul to feel Manuel's hand on his back, stroking soothingly. "Paul..." Manuel paused and said, "I've never done that before. I...don't know if I'm ready."
"Yeah, sure. Of course not," Paul said, and he felt suddenly weirdly sick. Never done that before. Manuel had done other things before. Paul knew that. He'd known all about Bryan, but...somehow he'd forgotten, and it made him feel weird to know that what he'd done yesterday, so intimate and raw for him, was not new to Manuel. He'd been there before, with some other guy, and some other guy's spunk all over him. Paul tensed his jaw.
Manuel's rubbing slowed down and he frowned. "'Sup?"
"You're suddenly all far away and stuff. What's going on?"
Paul thought about not telling him, considered getting up and walking out the door, but he'd promised himself when Manuel was in the coma that he'd never do something that stupid again, so he cleared his throat, manned up, and said, "I forgot that you'd done any of this before. Stupid I guess."
Manuel's eyes softened and he smiled. "Oh," he said, and he scooted closer. "Jealous?"
"No," Paul said. Yes, his entire body screamed.
Manuel said, "I'd be jealous. If it were you who'd been with another guy."
"Yeah, well, I haven't," Paul said. He hadn't even been with a girl for crying out loud.
Paul covered his face with his hands, trying not to think about that blond, blue-eyed guy who had probably shot his load on Manuel's chest. It wasn't very Christian how much he wanted to kick that guy in the nuts.
"So..." Manuel said. "Um, do you want to pray?"
Paul said nothing, but Manuel scooted closer and took his hands, bowing his head. "Dear Heavenly Father, please bless this act of love between me and Paul. And, Lord, make Paul understand how much I love him, and bring blessings to the people we were with before, because they prepared the way for us to be together. Thank you, Jesus, for letting us find each other, and for giving us brave hearts to overcome obstacles to our love. Amen."
Paul felt himself relaxing as Manuel prayed, the soft voice that had always touched him brought him front and center, and the sweet words reminded him of how much they had together, and how everything had conspired to make them who they were today.
"So?" Manuel said, softly. "You brought condoms?"
"You don't have to--" Paul said.
"Just in case," Manuel whispered, kissing him, grabbing his hair, and tumbling him to the bed. Sometimes Paul forgot that Manuel was so much stronger than he looked.
Manuel's mouth on his cock was hot and wet and so good, with slick cheeks and tongue touching everywhere and then sliding away again. Paul felt like he might die, curled up over Manuel, his legs splayed with Manuel between them, and his breaths coming in fast, panting gasps, his stomach clenching and releasing as his cock jerked, and his balls tightened. Manuel pulled off, his hand taking the place of his mouth, jerking Paul's cock slowly, and the opening his mouth to suck it back in. Paul shuddered, gripped the sheets with both hands, and fought the urge to push up, to pump into Manuel's hot mouth.
Manuel pulled off, sat up, and pushed back on Paul's shoulders, unfolding him and laying him out on the bed. He was shaking, Paul could see how his hands and body trembled, and he reached out to pull him down against his chest. He fought the urge to push Manuel back down toward his cock, which was aching and flexing in the cool air of the room, and instead kissed Manuel's mouth, surprised to find the taste of his own pre-come there, and kind of loving it, the intimacy was weird, but cool, and hot, and he rolled Manuel over, pushing his cock against Manuel's stomach, reaching down to grip Manuel's dick in his hand.
Manuel pushed his hand away, and pulled out of their kiss, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and his eyes wide, excited, and wild. "I want you, Paul," Manuel said, urgently, his voice raspy and strange.
"Yeah, me too," Paul muttered, reaching for Manuel's cock again, and lifting his head to try to reach Manuel's lips.
Manuel moved back, and he said, "I nearly died."
Paul felt the words slam into his chest, and his breath caught. He whispered, "I'm sorry."
Manuel was shaking like a leaf. His hands jumping all over the place as he tried to shove his bangs out of his eyes, as he wiped the spit from his mouth, and he brought his knees up to his chest, his dick still hard, and his balls hidden by his legs.
Paul felt confused. His body ached, and his cock was so hard he couldn't think straight, and he wanted so badly to kiss Manuel some more, to stroke him, and make him come. He didn't understand this diversion into the horror of their recent past.
"I want to do it."
"Do what?" Paul asked, his heart tripping a little.
"I want to have intercourse," Manuel said, the clarity of his voice and words ringing in Paul's body like a bell. "With you. Today."
"You...what?" Paul sat up, scrubbing at his face, trying to figure out what the hell Manuel was talking about. His cock was almost vibrating with need, and he wasn't sure he wasn't hallucinating or dreaming.
"Paul, you never know if you'll have a second chance. You could leave today and be hit by a bus. We can't know what will happen."
"Have you lost your mind?" Paul asked, thinking he should move away from Manuel, but instead moving closer, touching Manuel's thigh, feeling the hairs under the palm of his hand.
"No...unless you don't want to. It's fast, I know," Manuel said. "I'm rushing you. Forget it."
Paul swallowed hard, looked at his hand cupping Manuel's leg, and everything came into place, clicking like puzzle pieces, and he said, "No. I want it, too."
Manuel's eyes lit up and he kissed Paul hard, licking his mouth, grabbing him and pulling him on top of him, and they pushed their hips together, grinding and thrusting, and Paul grunted as he came, trembling as he felt the wet heat of Manuel's orgasm slicking their stomachs, too.
It was less than ten minutes later that Manuel turned to him and said, "Did you mean it?"
"Yeah," Paul said. Of course he meant it. He would never turn down another opportunity to dance with Manuel. That had been another promise he'd made.
"We have to pray," Manuel said, softly. "Amigo, this is serious business. This has to be given to God."
Paul nodded, and he closed his eyes, clutching Manuel to his chest, his cock already hard and throbbing as Manuel spoke.
"Dear Heavenly Father, I love Paul, and I believe that Paul loves me. God, you know my heart, and that my love for Paul is true, and because I love him, God, I want him. I want to touch him and feel him touch me. Your servant Paul said it was better to marry than to burn, but, God, we aren't allowed to marry, not legally. So, God, I promise myself to Paul, as long as he'll have me, in any way I can be there for him. And, God, bless us as we show our love to each other, as we show the passion that you gave to us, and join us as one flesh. In your son's name...Amen."
Amen, Paul thought, and he whispered, "How do we start?"
Manuel said, "I'll handle everything. Where's the condom, amigo?"
Paul watched stunned as Manuel slid the condom onto Paul's cock, and he chewed on the inside of his lip when Manuel added the slick stuff he'd bought packets of, too. Manuel wiped his hand on the sheet and leaned forward kissing him softly, almost chastely, and he asked, "Ready, amigo?"
Paul nodded, and his eyes rolled back in shock as Manuel pushed down on him, and he held his cock straight up as the pressure grew, and then tight, hot, heat, oh, God, and Manuel's eyes were so wide. Paul held himself tightly, fighting not to buck up, letting Manuel descend on him slowly, feeling the clench and grip of his ass. Paul felt tears fill his eyes as he watched Manuel tilt his head back, moving up and down slowly, taking in more and more. Paul remembered Manuel in the hospital, so fragile and near death, and now he was so strong, so handsome, and holding Paul so firmly inside. So powerful.
"Does it hurt?" Paul whispered.
"Yeah," Manuel managed to say, softly. "But I like it."
Paul put his hands on Manuel's thighs, trying to still him, but Manuel kept moving. "I don't want to hurt you," Paul said.
"I want this so much. Paul, God...please," Manuel said, sliding down further on Paul's cock. "Please move."
The push and pull took over then and he couldn't have stopped if he wanted. The noises Manuel made, hot, loud noises, left Paul quivering and out of control, pushing in and out faster and faster. It was amazing, and overwhelming, and he wanted to explode, and praise Jesus, and cry out, and shatter all at once. It was better than anything had ever been – better than when Manuel told him that he loved him, better even than when Manuel had come out of the coma, because this was real, and deep, and stronger than anything he'd ever felt before.
He wasn't going to last. Manuel was watching him with hot, bright eyes, and Paul couldn't last. Just not even another minute.
"Gonna come," he managed.
"Yeah, please," Manuel said.
And he clenched his hands on Manuel's forearms, pulling him down to kiss him, as he slammed his hips up. It was endless, shaking heaven exploding over him and in him, and he shouted, as his body tensed, his toes curled, and it went on and on. Manuel cooing over him, holding him tight while he came apart.
Paul was still trembling when he realized that Manuel's hand moved between their bodies, flying over his own cock, stroking fast and hard. Paul started to pull out of Manuel's body, but Manuel grabbed his wrist, holding him in, saying, "Stay. Don't."
And Paul pressed back into Manuel's gripping ass, and he shuddered, overstimulated, but wanting to give Manuel what he needed. Manuel's eyes rolled back, his breathing stuttered, shallow and fast, and his stomach muscles rippled. Paul stared in awe and whimpered when the sudden clamping of muscles around his cock warned him as hot, slick come shot onto Paul's face and chest.
Manuel stared down at him, his eyes glazed and shocked, and then he leaned forward and licked his own come from Paul's face, murmuring, "Oh, Dios, mio, mi amigo, mi amor, Dios mio, te amo..."
Paul cradled Manuel as he collapsed on his chest. He smelled Manuel's hair – sage and mint – just as always, and he felt his cock start to slip from Manuel's ass. He reached down to hold the condom on, and pulled out, and Manuel made a soft sound.
"I love you," Paul whispered. "Te amo," he said, trying out his native tongue, almost foreign to him now.
Manuel lifted up, kissed Paul's mouth, and then collapsed again.
"Are you hurt?" Paul asked.
"No, amigo. Just full of joy."
"Yeah," Paul said. He was, too, and he didn't even feel scared. He thought he should, but he didn't. Not at all. It had been right. Exactly right.
"Paul?" Manuel said, his voice still raspy.
"We just did what people say is so wrong. How can that be?"
"It can't," Paul said. "It can't be wrong."
Manuel said, "God loves us, amigo, doesn't He? And if He loves us, He must love this."
"He loves this. God loves this," Paul said, certain and calm.
Manuel moved up and kissed his mouth again, holding Paul's face in his hands. "Yes, He does."