Miguel's POV

I really… really… really like this boy.

Really. It's all I can think about as I hold him close at 4 o'clock in the morning with a freak San Francisco shower pattering the window outside.

Hiro's my favorite thing about America. I don't think I could handle this new school, or shopping at Target, or all of the many squabbling bums littering San Francisco's streets if I didn't have him to look forward to. When I'm around him, I actively try to downplay just how much he gets to me because I don't want to scare him away.

His house always smells like croissants and tea. And his family is super supportive! As opposed to, say, my family. Who we do our very best to tiptoe around and avoid being seen together in front of. But that's another story.

Cradling Hiro against me, mooching off his warmth, I get the overwhelming urge to touch his junk.

That last sentence is definitely not as romantic as the couple of paragraphs that preceded it, granted. But bear with me.

Believe it or not, in the almost three months that we've been secretly dating, Hiro and I have yet to touch each other's stuff. Lots of rough kissing and late-night phone jack-off sessions that eat into our respective data plans. But no touchy-touchy. I know, right? So weird! After all, we're both fertile, supple teenage boys in the blossom of youth. I find him insanely attractive, and - correct me if I'm wrong here, sleeping Hiro - I'm pretty sure the feeling's mutual. So then… why… haven't we… touched eachother's dicks?!

Sorry. I'm sorry. It's just… I'm a little frustrated.

Truth be told, Hiro's actually to blame, if you wanna call it that. He's… new. To all of this.

I'm pretty inexperienced as well, don't get me wrong. But Hiro is NEW new. As in, I was the one who jump-started his feelings for boys. And before he met me, he earnestly believed he was destined to be a breeder.

(I nibble his earlobe. He purrs in his sleep, arching his butt into my lap, the back of his neck erupting in goosebumps. Nope - you definitely don't like girls, dandelion head.)

Where was I? Oh yeah - so Hiro's new. And he's… nervous. He wants to take things slow. Which is understandable! I'm totally fine with doing the best-boyfriend-in-the-world thing. I can be patient!

But at the same time… I'm fourteen. And he's cute. And sometimes, when we're making out on his bed, or on the couch downstairs when his Aunt Cass isn't around, I get so painfully hard that I'm scared the blood will never go back into my body and I'll be forced to ride my bike to the hospital to get it drained. So hard that the friction of my own dick in my underwear makes me wince, and we have to take a break.

So I can't help but wonder if Hiro would be mad if I, like… maybe just a little bit… in his sleep…

The thought turns my stomach as soon as it enters my mind. I'm not about to molest Hiro, sleeping or no. Even if I have an erection. A violent one. Even if Hiro's buttcheeks are kind of, like, cradling it, and he has this nasty habit of squirming around in his sleep, so it feels like he's actively trying to back his ass up on my crotch while I'm smelling his hair and feeling all his warmth against my - FUCK IT! My hand is going down his shorts in t-minus three! Two! One...

ay dios mio.

And I'd thought his body was scalding hot. Woof.

It kind of… sprung up into my hand. Like an old friend at the airport that gets a running start and collides with you in a dervishing hug. It's warm and hard, and wow - that was an awful simile for putting your hand on someone's dick. I am truly sorry. Really, I'm ashamed of myself.

Hiro stirs against me. I grind my molars. Thankfully, he only nuzzles down into his pillow, remaining asleep.

Wow. WOW. He's… decently proportioned. Like… not as long as mine, probably, but surprisingly thick. Holy crap! Hiro has a chode!

I stroke my fingers gently down the length of it, my wrist mussing the little tuft of soft, wiry hairs underneath. His foreskin rolls back easily, like the skin on a rotting peach. Man… I really need to work on my similes.

For a while I just lie there, a Cheshire cat grin carved across my face as I make slow, careful work of jacking him off. If there was ever a time when I was as rock-hard as I was right then, it has been lost to memory. Without even looking, I can tell that a dark spot is forming on my boxers. Sinful desires swim through my head at an astonishing rate.

Yeah… you like that, Hiro? My thoughts purr amorously. You like my hands on you? Touching you? Making you feel good? I can do this anytime you want, Hiro. Whenever you need it. All you'd have to do is ask.

I nibble the skin at the base of his ear. I need to feel him shiver, to feel him pushing back against me.

It wouldn't even have to be when we're alone. You hear me, Hiro? It could be in a crowded movie theatre. A service corridor in the mall. In the laundry room at my house in the middle of dinner when my family thinks we're in the kitchen grabbing seconds. Wherever you want.

Rest assured, I feel just terrible. I know that what I'm doing is morally wrong. I'm not a monster. But… fuck… try to put yourself in my tube socks for a moment! We're half-naked, he's warm and soft, and he's cute! My conscience is off somewhere downstairs making coffee, grumbling that it's too early for all this shit.

As if psychically registering my turmoil, Hiro decides that right now would be an awesome time to wake up.

"B'wugh."

His face comes alive in increments. His dark eyelashes blink as his face unhinges in a yawn. He smacks his lips, eyes closing again, only to shoot open once he takes inventory of the rest of his body.

"W-wh…" A startled eye turns on me.

"Oh… hey." I chuckle awkwardly, hard as a plank against him. "I, uuh… I was gonna make you breakfast in bed. But it's cold, and this was cheaper, so… yeah."

I watch on, terrified as he wriggles his hips, confirming that there is in fact a foreign hand gripping his morning erection.

Please don't be mad. Please don't be mad. Please-oh-please don't be mad…

Taking stock of the situation, Hiro twists around to face me. I can feel now just how hard he has become. My fingers are wet where I touched him.

He kisses me. And not just any kiss either. Certainly not the usual timid Hiro kiss I get in secluded alleyways and abandoned classrooms. No - this one was full-on. Confident. Fierce. His arms band around my neck as a small, kittenish tongue slips into my mouth. I find myself kissing back with wild abandon, gripping his waist, pulling him against me. His underwear is hiked partially down, his naked erection frotting mine.

We break just long enough for him to lean in and whisper: "I want you inside me."

Oh my GOD. Fireworks. Fireworks between my ears. Behind my eyelids. Breaking out over my skin.

On some level, I know we can't. There's a checklist. Bullets upon bullets of prep work that would have to be done. Stuff we needed to buy. Stretches.

But FUCK... how I want to!

Suddenly I'm on top of him, crouched between his legs. Leveraging his muscle shirt over his head, praying that someone remembered to lock the door. Our tongues wrestle together. His hand finds mine, sliding it down until my fingers are once again resting on his manhood.

"Please," Hiro pants against my cheek, writhing beneath me. "Please."

My brows form a surprised peak. I kiss him a bit too roughly, gripping him as his long fingers make short work of pushing his boxers the rest of the way down. It takes a bit between all the kissing, the grinding, and the blood rushing out of my head before I can fall into a workable rhythm. Hiro squirms beneath me, mewling, our tongues wrestling for dominance as the heavy duvet falls to the ground beside the bed. His fingers find the sizeable tent in my boxer shorts, gripping me through them. My whole body shudders.

"D-don't stop!" He pants wetly. "P-please! God…"

I feel powerful. I'm not ashamed to admit it. My touch has him rutting up against my palm. His lightly freckled arms are wound tightly around my neck, beads of sweat forming in the furrows of his brow, his wet lips parted, moaning. I feel like a million bucks.

"You're so fucking cute," I growl against his ear. His cheeks flush like he has a bad fever.

"I'm… ggn… dude, I'm about to! I'm about to~"

I cover his mouth with mine, shutting him up as my hips grind into his. I barrel down against him, stealing his breath, his words, whatever there is to take.

All at once, I feel Hiro twitch. His body jerks and spasms. His arms tighten to a vice around my neck. His moan breaks the kiss we're sharing. I feel a dampness seeping over my belly.

After a while, Hiro's lithe form goes slack beneath me. He holds me close, panting like he just finished running a marathon. I can smell him now - metallic, syrupy, sickly-sweet. I bring a finger up to my lips and lick it, causing Hiro to wince.

"Ugh… don't do that." he groans. But it's a weak protest - one without gravitas or enthusiasm.

I collapse against him. My wrist is locked up, I'm sticky and sweaty, and my cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

"Hey Miguel?" comes a timid little voice from the pillow beside me.

"Mmmph?"

"I love you."

My chest tightens. Butterflies do barrel rolls in my stomach. I turn my face a tad, pushing my smiling lips against his ear. "I love you too, Hiro Hamada."