"I've been thinking," Dante said, shattering the silence, breaking me out of my safe zone.

We were lounged sideways on Dante's bed, his side pressed against mine as we stared at the ceiling. I was imagining the stars above.

"I don't like it when you think," I announced.

"I don't like it when you don't think," he countered.

"I do think. A lot. I just don't like to say what I think." That's because I don't understand my thoughts. I don't like them, they're like raw pieces of meat. I preferred my meat cooked medium-well.

"Well, you should."

I nodded. "I should."

"Ari?"

"Dante?"

"Ari, do you ever think about sex?" Dante sure loved to drop bombs on me.

"No."

"Really?"

"If I did, I wouldn't want to talk about it."

"Why not? Talking is good."

"Yes, talking is good." I squinted at the ceiling. Talk, talk talk. Everyone always wanted me to talk.

"Talking is really good."

Really good. Ha. "One problem."

"And what is that?"

"I'm not good."

"No, you're not good," he agreed.

"Not at all."

"And I'm not good either." I knew Dante was smiling as he said it, I could practically feel it.

"Nope."

"We're both bad, bad boys." His tone was mocking.

I nodded. "Bad, bad, bad."

Shaking his head, Dante popped himself up on one shoulder so he could look at my face. "But that doesn't mean we're not good, Ari."

"You can't be both, Dante."

"Yes. Yes you can." He had that look in his eyes. The look of a spark, a thought, trying to ignite.

"You. You can. I can't."

"Everyone can. And everyone is. No one can just be good or bad. That wouldn't make sense. People are just too complicated to be defined by those teeny, tiny, simplistic words. People are just too big to be squished into one word."

"I'm not big," I said, simply.

"Your body isn't that big. And mine either. I mean, juxtaposed to the Earth, we're all small. But inside, Ari, we're huge as the the universe. We can't fit into good, or bad, or even both. We're all of them, Ari, all of the words."

"All of the words..." I looked from Dante back to the ceiling, thinking that the number of words in the world could fill the universe.

"Yes. All of them." His stare was intent. Intent on breaking his idea into my skull.

"Good, bad..."

"Good, bad, bright, brilliant. Basic, beaten, beautiful. Everything and anything." Sometimes he sounded like a poet.

"Like the universe."

"Like the universe. A secret. A mystery. A mystery with millions of jumbled words as clues. Too many to gather and solve the mystery with."

"Way too many."

"We're so much more, Ari."

"Inscrutable, too."

Dante smiled. "Especially that."

"You're really inscrutable, Dante."

"So are you, Ari." He breathed. "Too damn inscrutable." Then we were both laughing, focus drawn from the ceiling and the imaginary stars, to the airy sound of laughter. Laughter was a lot like the stars, I thought. You couldn't stop it from shining once it's time came.

Somehow the topic of sex was at my tail, chasing me relentlessly. I felt like a dog, going round and round. Every time I'd finally catch up and snatch the furry thing, it would fly back out and keep on turning. It was a vicious cycle. Tiring.

"You know what else we are?" Dante said the next day.

"Humans?"

"Yeah, Humans. Humans who reproduce."

"Us? Have you had a sex change behind my back, Dante?"

"No seriously. Us. Me and you, and your parents and my parents. Hell, even Legs, for that matter."

"Legs isn't human."

"No, but she's like a human."

That was an interesting thought. Legs seemed very inhuman to me.

"I don't think it's weird, that I think about sex a lot." Dante was swinging his legs over the back of my truck. "It's natural."

"Maybe. But it's weird that you talk about it a lot."

"Weird?"

"Yeah, weird."

"I don't think so. Talking is normal. And sex is normal. So what's weird about it?"

"I dunno, it's just weird."

"But we're 18, it's normal. Especially for us."

"Is this like a phase for eighteen year olds?" As my mother would say.

"Yeah, you could say that. A phase. A rather permanent one."

Permanent. I didn't care much for that word. I prefered to imagine nothing in the universe was permanent. Instead it was a series of mysteries that were like boxes: opening and closing and opening and closing, but never sealing shut.

When I couldn't fall asleep that night, I got out my journal and wrote down the thoughts that were running a marathon in my mind.

Does that mean my parents talk about sex? They had to have had sex, but do they still?

Do I want to know?

Do Dante's parents talk to him about sex?

Sometimes writing out my questions made the answers clearer. Sometimes my questions weren't meant to be answered. Writing them was like dismissing them from my thoughts. Throwing them in the junk drawer.

Sex is a weird word. I don't like the way it feels on my tongue.

I don't like the way it steals my thoughts away from me.

I ripped out the page and recycled it right away.

"Dante?"

"Hmm?"

Dante was deep in a painting, lost in his own world as I mindlessly flipped the pages of a poem book I'd read at least three times before.

"Have your parents ever talked to you about it?"

"About what?"

"You know..."

"Um... The accident?" Dante asked after a moment, confused.

"No, no, no. I meant…" I took a deep breath. "Sex."

"Oh. No, no they haven't."

"Oh. Me neither."

"I don't think they've felt the need to. And I've never brought it up."

"Hm."

"For certain things, it's just as hard for parents to talk about it with us as it is for us to talk about it with them. It's like, if they talk about it, it'll mean more than words. It'll make it real."

It'll make it real. "Like, if they talk about sex then we'll have sex?" I didn't think my parents had that much influence over me. But knowing them, they probably did.

"Sort of. More like, if they talk about sex, it means there's a reason for them to. It means we've reached the point where sex can enter our life at any time. And they don't want to believe that, because they can't control it."

"They can't control us."

"No, they can't control us as soon as we start becoming men. So they just want us to stay boys."

"I just want to stay a boy, too."

"I just want to be a man who can still be a boy forever."

"A man who can be a boy." That didn't seem possible.

"Exactly."

"I guess me too."

"I want to be able to do man things and boy things..."

I watched him stroke the paintbrush steadily. It was mesmerizing.

What are man things?

What are boy things?

Which of those things do I want?

My parents seemed to think they had a pretty good idea of the answers to those questions when they called me in for a family meeting as soon as I walked in the door that night.

I settled down and before I had the chance to lean back and get comfortable at the kitchen table, my father was pressing a cold beer into my hand.

And then my mother was pushing something else towards me, a mini rectangular box.

"We talked with the Quintana's, and together, we agreed you guys would be needing these just about now," my mother explained lightly as she leaned back in her chair, hugging her glass of whine to her chest.

"These?"

The condensation on the beer bottle dripped down my hand like the beer was inviting me in. Showing off how refreshing it would feel swimming down my throat.

"Yes, Ari. Take a look."

I took a quick sip of beer then put it down, grabbing for the box skeptically. I shouldn't have been surprised by the contents of the cover considering the topic loved to enter my life.

But nonetheless, I was surprised.

Condoms. My parents were giving me condoms. What kind of parents did that?

"You and Dante have been together for quite a while now, and we just wanted to say it's okay. You guys can explore, and do whatever you want, as long as you're careful. And you don't have to be embarrassed. You can also talk to us about any of your concerns."

"And what made you think we've been waiting for your permission?"

My father chuckled, which was strange.

"Well… have you?" my mother asked, open to anything.

"Yeah…" I sighed.

"There you go."

"Wait, no. No we haven't." My face started heating up. "No. I mean, we haven't done anything, but it's not because we were waiting for you guys to give us a green light to go…."

"You know, Ari, when I think about sex, I'm not really thinking about sex."

I felt like I was having major deja vu. I glanced at Dante cautiously. "I don't think I want to know what you're really thinking about. Your thoughts are scary."

"They scare me too, and that's why I have to tell you."

"I don't get you."

"And I don't get you. But I still work well with you."

"True."

"When I think about sex, Ari, I think about someone. I think about having sex with you. And I think about how you'd look, and what you'd do, and what you'd feel. And what I'd feel. And I think and I think and I think, and I don't think I will ever stop thinking about it."

"You need a new hobby."

"C'mon, Ari." Dante looked me, analysed me. Like I was one of his poem books. "You've never thought about any of that, Ari?"

Well... I had thought about it. But only because I was trying to understand it. I'd been intrigued by it, but never particularly interested in going further than that, further than thinking about it.

I shrugged. Dante sighed.

"My parents had the sex talk with me last night," Dante admitted.

"I know. Me too."

"They're moving faster in this relationship than we are. It's kinda weird, don't you think?"

"I guess. It's kind of like they're trying to lead the way."

Dante laughed. "Exactly. They're standing two steps ahead of us crafting a bridge with popsicle sticks. They think it's the only way over the river."

"They're forgetting that you're a good swimmer. And I'm decent."

"You're a good swimmer, too."

"No, I just had an exceptional teacher."

Dante smiled and whacked my arm lightly. "I guess I'm not half bad."

I scoffed. "You could swim for the both of us, if you had too."

"I should get you to compliment me more often. It's nice." This time there was a not-so-innocent twinkle in his eye when he smiled.

We were on our way to the desert when it started storming. I'd asked Dante if he wanted to go back, but he'd shaken his head and continued to watch the rain, saying, "I like the rain."

Now we were each leaning on one side of the back of my truck, listening to the battering rain.

"Remember what we did last time it was like this?" Dante asked.

The desert. The rain. Getting naked. Getting soaked. I remembered quite well.

"Yeah, I remember."

"Let's do it again."

Before I could even think of putting up an argument, Dante's shirt and shoes were sprawled on the base of my truck. The rest was soon to follow.

With his hand on the back door of my truck, Dante looked back at me mischievously. "C'mon Ari, live a little."

Knowing that this was nothing like the last time, I plunged naked into the rain. The rain felt the same on my skin, but I wondered how it could still feel so different than the last time. Everything had changed.

Dante grabbed my hand and spun us in circles. The circles were just like how we'd been going round and round with each other lately.

When he grabbed my other hand and pulled me closer, he was laughing like a drunk teenager. "I've always wanted to dance in the rain," he said. "Even better that it's with you."

Soon the only thing separating our bodies were drips of rainwater.

"You're shivering," Dante whispered, right beside my ear. His breath was warm, like steam from a hot cup of coffee.

I hadn't realized I was cold. Dante let go of my hands and my whole body shuddered. I reached out for his warmth and met his chest, which was coming closer and closer until my elbows were bent and my arms were squished between us. Dante wrapped his arms around me and rubbed his hands up and down my back. I felt small in his arms, even though I was bigger than him. I felt like a child.

Over the pummeling of the rain, my teeth were clattering. Dante noticed, and he exhaled little puffs of warm breath all over my face as he guided us back to my truck.

Even though he only unglued one of his arms from my body to open the door, it felt like he was throwing me into an ice bath, but right when he pushed us inside, he was all over me again, wrapping around me like a cocoon.

My lips were numb, and probably looked blue as ice, and when he pressed his lips to them, it wasn't sparks, but fire.

When my lips warmed up, he moved to my nose, then my cheeks. Then my eyelids, my forehead, my ears, my chin. And when he'd finished navigating my entire face, he continued downwards, dragging his lips slowly, like he was crawling.

He touched every inch of my neck, my shoulders, my arms. Each and every fingertip. It was like I was his panting, and his lips were brushing paint over every inch of the canvas, stroking softly but skillfully.

I was melting.

I wasn't even cold anymore but he kept on going.

He reached my chest, his lips ghosting lower and lower, over my niples, over my ribs. I giggled when they brushed over my stomach. I didn't even know that I was ticklish.

Then his chapped lips stopped at my bellybutton.

"Have you warmed up?" he whispered, his mouth moving on my skin.

My throat felt clogged, so I nodded stiffly.

"Are you sure?" His eyes twinkled. "I can keep going."

The implications of that sentence scared me. Then I realized, embarrassingly, that all these feather-light touches had taken quite the effect on me. I leaned away.

Dante sat up with a frown. "What's wrong?"

I looked down. That was when I noticed Dante had been effected just as greatly as I'd been. My eyes widened.

"Oh," I chirped. Chirped. I sounded like a freaking wounded bird.

Dante followed my eyes and smiled. "Yeah… touching tends to have that effect on people."

I looked to the side, staring intensely at the rain through the window. How embarrassing. It was embarrassing enough when I woke up like this, but in front of Dante, with Dante. That was mortifying.

"I- I'll got out in the rain… it's cold, it'll fix this," I said.

I couldn't look at Dante to see why it was taking him so long to respond, so I pried myself away from the floor of my truck. I just needed to wash it away. My arousal and my embarrassment.

But when Dante's hand pulled me back down, I didn't think I had it in me to force myself up and away a second time.

I felt his fingers on my cheeks. Soft, soothing. Then tugging, forcing my face to the side so I'd look in his eyes.

He was smiling. This wasn't funny.

"Ari. Ari," he said. "Ari, Ari, Ari." He brought his face closer, so that I could practically feel his nose touching mine; the shadow of a touch. "Ari, I love you. I love you so freaking much." He shook his head. "And you're so freaking adorable. And it's okay. It's okay, just let yourself be vulnerable in front of me, okay? You don't ever have to be vulnerable anywhere else or with anyone else, but you can be with me."

I didn't know what to think of myself. It's not that I didn't want this. It's that I'd never wanted anything like this before Dante. The sexual side of humans had always been a no trespassing zone for me, and now it was a wide open gate. "It's just, I don't know…"

Dante scanned my face. "I don't know, but I'm beginning to think you're more like Legs than you are human, Ari." He bumped my nose with his playfully. "You don't do much talking, you like trucks and walking through the park... Sleep, eat, play. That's your life. You don't care for none of the heavy shit."

"I'm not that simple…" I threaded my hands through his short hair. "I like being with you, too. And I like talking to you, I just don't always know what to say…"

"I know, I know. I'm just teasing you."

I nodded, touching our noses again. "Okay. I'm okay."

"Good." Dante started leaning away, and it felt like all my warmth was being pulled away from me.

"No." I inhaled slowly. "Keep going."

"Keep going?"

I don't know why I said that, but I did mean it when I said it. I leaned forward and kissed him slowly, bringing my hands back up to his chest.

His breathing picked up, and he followed suit, touching his hands to my chest.

We followed that rhythm for a while, exploring each other from the waist up, until Dante pulled us so we were both laying back, and he placed his hands on my hips. I forgot to be embarrassed, to be scared. Dante made me forget everything. I placed my head on his neck where it swooped into his shoulders, breathing heavily.

"You okay?" he asked.

"More than okay," I whispered in his neck.

Then Dante's hands were on my dick, and they felt like so much more than hands.

He started slowly, stroking like it was an art. He seemed to know all the techniques. They worked so well for me it felt like he broke the code to my system; I would've responded to anything he did.

I grabbed onto his shoulders and held on tightly as my universe came undone. Dante was the only clear thing in the chaos. Everything else was a blur; the rain, the truck, the noises in my throat.

Then all I could see were stars as I exploded. I swear it couldn't have lasted longer than a few seconds.

"Shit, Dante," I said, slumped on top of him. "Shit."

I looked up into his eyes, which were wide open, and bright like the stars. His mouth formed a small circle and his eyes kept widening.

"Yeah, shit," he said. "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen."

I buried my face back in his neck. Dante always had to say those sorts of things.

I looked down to see his dick up and waiting. "Um..."

Dante smiled and kissed my forehead.

"Um… you. You're still…" I've concluded that words are rarely on my side. "It's…uh.. your turn."

"Oh." His eyes were wide like flying saucers. "You don't have to..."

That made me look back up at him. "But I want to." I smiled as I traced my hand down his chest. "I love you, Dante."

I had no idea what I was doing as I reached for his dick, but I didn't feel like I had to know. It was okay when I was with Dante, okay to be learning.

At first I stroked it softly a few times, then followed the pattern he'd used; squeezing and stroking, again and again, faster and faster.

The whole time, I watched him, I watched his eyes flutter shut, his breaths quicken, his face untangle with emotion.

"You're amazing, Ari," he whispered. And then he completely lost it, his hips moving, following the lead of my hands. Sounds of pleasure escaping his mouth.

He let himself open up completely for me. He trusted me completely.

When he reached his peak, losing himself in my hands, I thought: Dante holds the only stars I need to navigate my universe. He holds all the stars of the universe in his heart. They shined so bright I wondered how it took me so long to find them.

Similar things happened whenever me and Dante found ourselves alone from that point onwards. Always in my truck.

My parents didn't ask why we were going out in my truck increasingly often all of the sudden. They also didn't ask why I always took so long to clean it afterwards.

One afternoon my parents made a big show of announcing their plans for the night.

"We'll be gone almost all night," they kept saying. "You'll be all alone... Unless you invite Dante over..."

I hadn't caught on right away, but when Dante called later asking if my parents were trying to get us a night alone together like his seemed to be, it became all too obvious. All the hints, all the implications.

Maybe that was when I should've drawn the line. But instead I let my parents do their thing and didn't say a word until Dante fell backwards on my bed that night, and I said, "Damn."

"Damn?"

"What are we doing, Dante?"

"I don't know. I kinda thought..."

"... we were going to have sex..."

"Yeah..."

"Like, all the way?"

"Yeah."

"Do you even know what to do?"

"Yeah, I know everything I need to know."

Of course Dante did his research. He could probably give a whole lecture about it. I sighed and plopped down beside him.

He looked at me, his expression void of excitement. "You don't want to," he stated.

I threw my arm over my face and groaned. "It's… ah… I dunno…"

Dante waited. The seconds killed me.

"I don't not want to."

"But you don't want to."

"I dunno… it's just, the idea… it… it doesn't bother you at all?"

"Bother me? No, quite the opposite. Does it bother you?"

"I don't know… I don't have the word. It's like, when I imagine it, I kinda feel..."

"Feel what, Ari?" His voice had no edge to it, much to my relief. "Tell me, I won't be mad."

"Like... I'm gonna…" I closed my eyes. "Puke," I whispered.

Dante looked away, lowering his eyes. But there was no shock, he looked more like I'd just confirmed something he'd already been suspecting.

"Okay…" he whispered. "Okay." I think he was talking to himself.

Then he spun his head back around on my pillow to face me. "We don't have to have sex." He smiled softly. "Ever."

Being with Dante was like being in warzone. Bombs were always being dropped and even if you knew they were coming, they always caught you off guard.

"We don't have to," he repeated. "Relationships aren't all about sex. I never really understood those sex crazed teenage guys at my school or at the pool anyway, it's like they all have tunnel vision and the only thing at the tunnel's exit is sex. Sex, sex, sex, they all have one track minds, and honestly? It's kind of sickening. Sex means nothing."

I spun onto my side and wrapped my arms around him, overwhelmed with a feeling I don't even know how to label. I just wanted to squeeze the life out of him.

"You're amazing, Dante," I whispered in his neck. "But you're such a bad liar. And I never said that sex was off the table, Mr. Jump To Conclusions. I just said the idea wasn't all that appealing to me."

"You said it made you want to puke."

"Yeah, but I like to believe that nothing in this world is permanent. Things can change."

"Really?" He looked like a puppy who'd been told they could get a treat if they did some tricks. It was adorable, and reason enough to change.

"Really."

Dante wrapped his arms around my back and rolled us over so he rested on top of me, then, with our foreheads pressed together, he started giggling like a silly High-Schooler. I whacked his forehead with mine.

"Don't get too excited," I said.

"I am too excited. You make me too excited. It's not my fault, it's yours."

I gave him a quick kiss, then knocked him off my bed. The loud thump and the horrified look in his eyes as he landed was enough to send me into a hysterical fit of laughter. Soon I was on the floor too, and I'm not sure if it was because of laughter or Dante pulling me, but I know that we were both on my floor laughing for ages.

Three whole weeks have passed and Dante hasn't mentioned sex again.

Which was nice.

But it kind of freaked the hell out of me at the same time.

I didn't mean to bring it up that night, but, well, it just slipped off my tongue like it was on a waterslide. I hate waterslides.

"You never ask me about sex anymore," I'd said.

And we entered the war zone again.

"I don't want to pressure you…"

"I know…"

"Do you want me to talk about sex?"

"Well… I'm sort of starting to think that it's worse if you don't talk about it."

If he never talked about it I don't think anything would change. I'm not good at making things change on my own.

"Oh. Well, what do you want me to say?" He looked at me quizzically. "You want me to keep asking if you're ready?"

"Well, no. Yes. I don't know… I just feel like if we don't talk about it, my opinion on it will stay the same."

"Okay. I don't really know what to say though…"

"I don't know…" I thought for a moment about it and realised I really didn't know much about sex, especially between males. "I don't really know much about it."

"Okay… shall I enlighten you?"

I shrugged. "We've got to start somewhere."

I felt like an expert in the domain of sex between two males when I got home that night. Except for the fact that I'd never actually tested my knowledge. Which was step two.

Step two scared me, but it didn't seem far away anymore. Which is probably why it scared me.

The next night our parents went out to a concert together. It seemed to have become a tradition for them to go out on Friday nights these days, and they never asked if me and Dante wanted to join. Since that first time they went out for the night, Dante had been coming over here or I'd been going over to his place, and we'd have "sleepovers" I guess you could say. We'd just hang out like usual and eventually fall asleep. Nothing special. Our parents definitely thought that more was going on than just sleep, though. But that was step two, and we were stuck on step one.

I decided to jog over to Dante's house that night, instead of driving there in my truck. As I ran, I counted the nighttime stars. There were so many, way more than I'd ever seen before, and they were so bright; the universes lights. And they were all turned on tonight, like there was something important happening that they had to watch, that they had to see.

When I arrived at Dante's house, he was already in his pyjamas, yawning. He didn't greet me with the usual kiss, which was his way of opening the curtain for me, telling me I could go as far as I wanted to. Usually we made out for awhile, sometimes a bit more. Sometimes he'd read to me, sometimes he'd draw me. He never showed me those drawings though.

But that night he barely even greeted me. He just mumbled a barely audible, "I'm tired." Then he turned around, leaving the door wide open, and dragged himself to his bedroom. I followed him, closing the door behind me, and was shocked by how disappointed I felt. My lips were still waiting for the soft and inviting touch of Dante's thin lips.

I'd always loved and hated the way Dante greeted me on Friday nights. I loved it because I knew it meant he loved me and he didn't mind waiting. I hated it because it meant I was making him wait, and whenever his lips touched mine, I held back. I hated it because I knew I was holding back and I was scared of what it was like to not hold back.

And now I missed it, and I was upset that Dante took it away from me.

I really hated my emotions sometimes, but I couldn't stop them once they were coming.

Dante was on his bed, lying on his back, with an arm flung over his eyes to block out the light. His room was a complete mess. And that was considering the usual messy state of his room. It was messier than a mess.

There were paints and paintbrushes scattered on the floor around his easel. I wondered what he'd been painting, but the easel was facing the back corner of his room, and I could only see the back of the canvas.

His drawers weren't shut properly and clothes were hanging over the edges. But most of his wardrobe was housing itself on his bedroom floor. It was as if he hadn't bothered to take care of the place in the entire week since I was here last.

I walked to his bed and settled on my side beside him, pulling his arm away from his face. He groaned. I shut him up with a kiss. He groaned again, into my mouth this time. I pulled away and frowned at him.

"You're grumpy," I informed.

"I didn't sleep last night," he said.

"Why not?"

"There were more important things to do," he explained. It was a really vague explanation but it didn't look like I'd be getting more out of him. I didn't like that, usually he was the talkative one.

Then Dante flipped onto his side so that his back was facing me, and I got strangely angry. This was our night together. I mean, we had our nights out in my truck, but this was different. We didn't have to worry about getting home, we didn't have to worry about anything, really, except each other. It was more precious.

Dante wasn't supposed to be ignoring me.

After awhile of silence, I touched my hand to his back and started giving him a backscratch. After I'd gone over his whole back multiple times, I leaned over him and gave him a small kiss on the mouth. It was obvious he was awake by the way he moved into my touch, but he refused to admit it, keeping his eyes sealed shut.

I took it as a challenge. A challenge to get him to focus on me like he usually did.

I kissed both of the eyes he was forcing shut, then dragged my lips along his nose and back down to his mouth. I kissed him slowly this time, and when he groaned again, I nipped at his bottom lip. I was surprised by my own thoughts, that I wanted to hear him groan for a whole different reason.

I moved my lips down to his neck, and trailed kisses up to his ear. I blew onto his ear, and that did it. He giggled. I kissed his earlobe and he flipped onto his back.

His eyes remained shut, though. He was going to make me wake him up, so that's what I did.

I licked his right eyelid, and he pushed my head away, his eyes flying open. I laughed and plopped down beside him, an arm flung over his chest.

He smiled soon enough, and said, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"Okay, I'm not really sorry. I kind of enjoyed that."

I glared at him.

But being mad at Dante for long didn't seem to be possible. So I went back to kissing him.

He pulled me on top of him and and kissed me back. I snuck my hands under his shirt, and realized that this was the first time I was taking the first steps. It made me feel free, on top of the world. Like the universe was mine.

When he kissed me harder, I leaned away from him to pull off his shirt. I explored Dante's body without being cautious. I wasn't even afraid.

I realised I had been wrong. Dante didn't pull me out of my safe zone, he was my safe zone.

It was a startling revelation.

I was in love with every inch of him, and I made sure he knew it, kissing him everywhere. When I got to the waistband of his baggy pajama pants, it didn't seem like a no trespassing zone anymore. I didn't hesitate to enter.

Dante made a weird noise. I looked up at him.

He looked almost as if he was being strangled. I sat up.

"Dante?"

"Hm." His voice was strained.

"Um... Are you okay?"

"Yeah." It came out more like ye-awh.

"Are you sure?"

Dante looked annoyed.

"Obviously," he said, his voice slowly returning to normal.

"Oh."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You looked strange."

"Well yeah. With what you've been doing I can't help it."

"Oh."

Dante watched me for a while, squinting.

"You're different tonight."

I shrugged.

"Does this mean something?" he asked.

Did it mean something? It meant whether I was afraid or not, it didn't matter. It meant Dante was different, and I could be different when I was with him.

"Yeah, it does," I said.

"Oh." He looked away, then looked back slowly. "It- does it mean…?"

My stomach did a somersault. All of the sudden I was filled with nerves, but not the sickening kind. I knew exactly what he was asking.

"Yes," I replied, breathless.

Dante's eyes widened and he turned completely red. I felt my face heat up as well. I couldn't believe I just said that.

"Okay," he said. "Okay... um, yeah. Okay."

He wouldn't look at me. I leaned down and kissed his forehead. He smiled.

He tried to lean over. I held myself up so I wasn't trapping him down, and he reached into his bedside table, pulling out a bottle of lube and a condom.

He pulled off my shirt and trailed his hands across my chest lightly. He was drawing on my skin, still settled beneath me as I held myself up. When I was getting tired, he pulled me down beside him, and massaged down my sides until he got to my jeans. He pushed his hands inside the rough material, resting them at my hips, then moved them around to my ass, cautiously exploring.

He squeezed.

I yelped.

He laughed.

Then I laughed too, and reached forward to pull off his boxers, slowly.

Soon all of our clothes were on the floor and my mind felt like it was short circuiting.

Dante pushed me to flip over, so that he was pressed against my back in a spooning position. Then things started moving real fast, and he kept kissing the back of my neck, and I was starting to really like that feeling. And then his fingers were in my ass, and that was a really strange feeling, and then it started to feel less like a slimy worm intrusion and more like, I don't know, just good, and then all I could feel was Dante.

Dante inside of me.

And I could barely hear the noises beside my ear. I could barely feel his tongue on my neck.

And then all of it was too much and my stomach was tangled mess, and I felt like I was choking but there was nothing for me to choke on except emotion and Dante's name on my tongue.

And then all the energy drained out of me and I was left with the wonderful feeling of Dante combing his fingers through my hair before I fell asleep to the words "I love you".

In the morning when I woke up before Dante, I went to look at the painting he'd been working on.

It was two hands, linked together. The one crossing the painting at the top looked to be pulling the other up. I realised it was my hand, holding up Dante's. Our hands were surrounded by stars.

So, hello!

There are many reasons why I wrote this story. To start off, I really needed to take a break from writing for my other ship because I found that I got so used to writing them, whenever I wrote anything, I'd slip into writing them. Also, all my stories for them were in the 3rd person, and I didn't want to get too used to writing like that. I found that Ari and Dante were sealed shut pretty well in the book, and I was really satisfied with the ending, unlike the other pair I write for, whose relationship was only implied, never solidified. Even so, Ari and Dante are always with me, and I'm constantly imagining all the scenes between them that weren't in the book, especially the road to a sexual relationship. And so I wanted to challenge myself, and get all the ideas surrounding Ari and Dante out of my head, so this happened!

I hope they're in character and the style is good. Honestly, I felt like I was in foreign land while I was writing most of it, but I'm really happy with how it turned out!

I hope you guys enjoy it, and I'd love to hear it if you do! Sometimes a simple word can make such a difference in my world xD

Have an amazing day/night, and thank you for clicking my story and making it to the end, it means a lot!

My main blog is adorkable-laughter, but the blog I use the most is my side-blog adorkable-laughter (where I post my fanfiction and fanart and just share my nerdy-ness with the world), pay me a visit!

I'm always up for chatting with you guys!

Bye