Chapter 16

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

SANTOS

T he first thing I notice when I drive up to Shiba's Seaside is how handsome the guy standing in the parking lot is. Natie looks ravishing in his blue blazer over a white button-down and tight jeans. I'm glad I'm matching him in my own black suit over a black button-down. I'm even more glad he didn't cancel our plans or back out or anything.

I'm going on a real date with Natie Shiba. No parents, no second-guessing, just me and my high school crush. When he asked me out, I cheered to myself in the privacy of my apartment. Then I got to work cleaning up the place for any potential post-date festivities. It's all happening .

Natie gets in, we greet each other, and I promptly drive off. The nervous thrum between us is significant, but that's nothing new for me. Why does he seem disturbed?

At a stop sign, I take the moment to look him over. "You look…good tonight." Wow, way to be eloquent, a real boxer-shorts-dropping pickup line.

"Thanks. You do too," he replies, and I continue to drive. "I like your suit. It fits you well. Not…not that other outfits don't fit you well. You look quite fine in your work clothes. And in anything really. Not that I've been perving on you! I respectfully noticed how hot you looked. And by hot I mean, physically fit. Aesthetically pleasing. Just my type when it comes to men. Why am I still talking? Ha ha ha…"

He forces a laugh, and I glance at his manic grin. He really is a nervous wreck. I'm flattered that I have this effect on him, but mostly I want him to relax. So, without overthinking it, I take his hand and lace his fingers through mine; that discontinues his rambling. When I look over again, his fond smile makes my stomach do backflips.

"I'm r-r-really glad you asked me out, Natie Shiba."

He relaxes back in his seat, then rubs his thumb over my hand. "I'm glad you said yes, Santos Hand."

We make it to a fancy Cantonese restaurant between Newlantic and Stamports. The conversation is light as we pore over the menu. We decide to share a large plate of shrimp chow mein along with spring rolls. The place moderately crowded, but with our tucked-away booth, it's like Natie and I are the only men who exist.

"I should have chosen where to go," Natie says once the food arrives. "I'm the one who asked you out, after all."

I shrug and smile. "I like this place and wanted to treat you."

"Alright, Hand. But don't you dare think about getting the whole bill. We're splitting, that is final."

We chuckle and continue to eat. "I've never been here before," Natie says.

"I c-c-came once in high school, and I'm glad they've thrived over the years."

"Hm." Natie slurps up noodles, and I try not to stare at his perfect mouth. "You know, some guests thought my family owned this restaurant, too."

We laugh. "Why would Japanese folks own a Chinese restaurant?"

"You think being an Asian person in America makes any sense?"

His words make me crack up. His plight sounds rough, but I'm glad he's relaxed enough to share it with me.

"You and Santana are Latino, right?"

"H-h-half Peruvian."

"Is that where Hand comes from?"

I snort. "No, I got that from my dad, unfortunately."

Natie's face falls, and I want to kick myself for sobering the mood. "You told me he showed up the other day?"

"Yes." I stare at my nearly empty plate of noodles.

"You don't have to tell me anything." Natie puts his hand over mine, and I want to hold onto it for life. "But I'm here to listen if you'd like."

I nod and smile at him, then he pulls back to continue eating. I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing. "It's a l-l-long, contentious story. But my dad gradually became more and more aloof over the y-y-years after Mom died."

"I'm so sorry to hear that."

"I think he lashed out at us because we resembled his g-g-grief. Even when he was around, he d-d-drank. He didn't lay a hand on us, but chose to throw glass bottles around. And he'd say such awful things like he wished we were never…" I shiver at the memories, then push them back down. I'm on a date with a gorgeous man. I should be pleased and exuberant.

"Santos, I'm so…"

I wave my hand to dispel any bad vibes. "It was so long ago."

"Still, no one deserves that."

I smile and nod. "Anyway, we powered through. Abuela raised us, and my tías were amazing at visiting over the years."

"That's good to know," Natie replies.

I smile and stare at the plate again. "As much as I missed having a supportive dad, I had a decent amount of support. My mom's cousins taught me to drive and got me school supplies. They really came through when I needed rides for football."

"Sounds great."

I tap the table, lost in a fog of memory. "They supported me during my games. They were there when I won the championship. Abuela passed away, but I should call my tías again. Those were some of my f-f-fondest memories."

I look up to see Natie smiling at me. "I'm glad you had that."

"Yeah. It's why I enjoyed school so much, because the less time I s-s-spent in my lonely house, the b-b-better I would be."

"I can imagine."

"I'm the s-s-stereotypical jock who peaked in high school, who was gay the whole time."

We chuckle. "No, you're not," he retorts with a smile.

I shrug. "Regardless of my apathy toward girls, I had so many friends who liked me during my school days."

He sniggers. "I recall."

"Except for the one person I wanted to date," I mutter with a smirk. Natie's smile drops, and I immediately regret it. "I'm s-s-sorry, that was inappropriate, and—"

"No, I'm sorry," Natie replies. "If I didn't have my head in my ass, I would've known you wanted to be friends. I was terrible to you. I had no idea what you were going through at home. None of that is an excuse, but…"

His remorse warms my heart. I put my hand over his and rub my thumb over his knuckles. "You're here now. W-w-we're here now."

After dinner, we take a walk down the street from the restaurant. Natie tells me all about the tribulations of running the resort, and I describe how I got into printing production. Talking to him is so easy, and I barely stutter. We share bountiful laughs under the moonlight, and it's truly the best date I've been on in…well, possibly ever.

We're on the same page about not wanting this perfect night to end so soon, so when I offer to have a drink at my place, he doesn't refuse. Prodigious!

Forty-five minutes later, Natie clinks my glass of whiskey in my apartment. Our jackets are off, and we're sitting on my red couch in my tiny living room. I've barely decorated the place since I moved here several months ago, but I don't think he seems to mind. Now, as we sip our drinks, the nerves set in. What are we going to do? Sure, I've set up safe sex supplies in my bedroom, but what does Natie want? If I try to ask him, I bet I'll be a stuttering mess.

After another sip, Natie puts down his drink. "Do you mind if I put on some music?"

I shake my head and smile. He clicks on his phone, and the sensual sounds of sultry jazz flood the room. This is an amelioration to the awkward silence, and I'm ninety-nine percent sure Natie and I desire the same outcome.

When he takes my drink and places it on the table, I stop breathing. Next, he stares at me with heat and touches my thigh.

Shit, my dick just got hard . That ninety-nine became a one-hundred-and-one percent chance of sex on the schedule.

Natie leans forward and puts his mouth on mine. It's initially a slow, tender kiss. The whiskey tastes sweet on his lips. When he opens his mouth, I get the full experience of Natie's tongue on mine. He pushes forward, and I'm powerless to resist. When he covers me with his body, my ass throbs and my cock gets harder still.

We kiss and kiss, and I gasp around his mouth. " Natie."

"Do you have a position preference?" He trails kisses down my jaw.

"B-bottom."

"Really?" He pulls off, dark eyes eager and excited. I know I picked the correct answer.

"Y-yeah." I nod.

"Amazing." He pecks my lips. "So often dudes want me to bottom, but…"

"I want w-w-whatever you want, Natie." I stroke his chin. "I um…can do either, but I prefer to bottom. And I got s-s-supplies in my bedroom." I trail my fingers down his neck, and his eyes flutter closed. I reach the top of his shirt and undo the first button with one hand. "If you want to…"

When I touch the inside of his perfect chest, he gasps. "I…want…I very, very want…" he mumbles in a raspy tone.

I giggle and he nods. In a blur, he's yanking me up off the couch, and we're dashing to the bathroom.

After freshening myself up—no messes from my ass tonight—I wait on the bed in just a towel. Natie walks in cautiously, like he's unsure of himself. In the dim glow of only the hall light, I can see he's stripped down to his plaid boxer shorts. I gasp at the sight of half-naked Natie. He's adorable, with a sheepish smile, but also ravishing, with a smooth, lean body. He has no chest hair, unlike me, and he's perfect in every way.

As he approaches me, I try not to drool. After all these years, Natie wants to lay in bed with me.

I stand up, eager to not waste any more time. I grab his face and tenderly put my mouth on his. When he pulls away, he looks me up and down. "Wow," he breathes.

I look down— oh . The towel came off, and my cock is jabbing at his underwear. It dawns on me that this is the first time he's gotten a look at me naked. I have no qualms about myself, despite my abdominal area resembling more pudge than when I was a teenager. He's already stroked me off, and I want so much more tonight.

"May I?" I ask, bringing my hands to his boxers. He nods, and I swiftly bring them down his toned legs. Natie may be on the skinny side, but he's virility incarnate. And right now, his rising cock is beckoning me to touch him.

I stroke him below while I kiss his neck, eliciting a moan. His breathy noises are a symphony to my heart, and my dick. After making him hard, I lie back on the bed.

"Condoms…um, here." I hand him the lube packet and chain of prophylaxis, and he grins.

"You're a boy scout, huh, Santos?"

"Mhm." I don't even know what he's saying. I can't focus on anything except his naked body. He's tenuous abs, light skin, rounded shoulders, and everything I could ever lust after. He's so much more than the boy I used to steal glances at in the locker room.

He's all man, and I need him to take me all the way.

He suits up, and I bend my knees as he gets closer. I take the lube packet and finger myself while holding my legs up. The look of delight on Natie's face makes me feel like I won the lottery.

"Do you want me to rim you?" He leans over and licks my nipple.

"No," I rasp as I shiver. "Just…take me."

He pulls back and grins victoriously. Please make me yours, Natie . I hike my ankles over his shoulders and he grabs hold. With one hand, he lines his erection up with my hole. When he thrusts in the first ring, I'm seeing stars.

"You okay?" he grunts.

"So good," I rasp. "I w-w-want…"

"What do you need, baby?" He moves in further, and it burns.

"Want…you…" I manage to say through grunts.

He pulls back and slowly enters me again. It's been so long since I've had anything other than my own fingers. I've dreamed about Natie making love to me, but it was always hypothetical. When I push myself up and reach his lips, I know there's nothing theoretical about his passion for me.

After he cranes forward, we kiss as he thrusts into me. He goes deeper, then shallow, fast then slow. My eyelids flutter at the perfect pain of his cock in my ass. When he pegs my prostate, I lie back and gasp. I grip the sheets and take it all in; this man, this bed, this perfect moment where we're one. He fucks me, and my own cock gets harder. When he reaches for my bobbing erection, I shudder.

"W-w-wait," I rasp.

"What? You okay?" He stills and wipes the sweat from his brow. He's the epitome of sexiness.

"I'm good, I just wanna…" I scoot forward and he pulls out. Then I move my legs so I'm side-lying. My right knee reaches over, and I feel lube drip down my hole, but hey, that's what towels are for.

"Better?"

"Mhm." I look up at him and smirk. "Now g-g-get to work, Shiba."

He gives me a salute and we chuckle. "Aye aye." He leans forward and thrusts into me again. After getting used to this position, his rate picks up. He hammers into me, and I swear my bed might break. Natie is really letting go, and he's truly enjoying the ride.

I want to be Natie's sex toy eternally. Without hyperbole, this is the grandest night of my life.

He slams his hardness into me, grabbing my shoulder. Despite him not being longer or thicker than average, his cock is sensational inside me. "Fuck," I moan.

"You like that, Santos?"

"Yes," I whimper. I want him to relish it. I want Natie Shiba to forget his own name. I want him to remember fucking me for all time. "Harder…please."

Those must be the magic words, because he shifts into overdrive. Natie is animalistic as he drills into me. I might have claw marks in the morning with the way he manhandles my shoulders, but of course I don't give a damn. The sounds of our skin slapping fills my bedroom. Natie is fucking me so hard I won't be able to walk straight. I'm loving every second of it.

When he grasps my own hardness, my toes curl and I moan. I grip the sheets and push back, meeting his cock over and over again.

"You want me, baby?"

"Yes, babe," I hiss. "So bad."

"You want me on you?"

"Mark me." I nod into the sheets. "Come all over me." Desires I've never reflected on are slipping from my lips. I don't even recognize what I'm saying. Who am I?

"Fuck yeah," he mutters. When he pulls out, I miss the close contact. When he gets on his knees on the bed I flip over.

The condom is off with a snap. Then, he's thrusting over me, his hand blurring as he finishes himself off. With the slick sounds of his orgasm approaching, I get to work on myself as well.

I jerk, hard and fast, watching my idol, my enemy, and my everything towering up above. He grunts and leans over, and a moment later, it happens. Natie's orgasm comes to fruition and he's shooting on my chest. Watching him shudder sends me over the edge, and I come seconds after him.

I'm covered in Natie's essence. Holy fuck, he marked me . I thought that only happened in porn.

When he collapses next to me, we take several moments to bask in the post-orgasm euphoria. Our breathing calms down, and the desire for sleep rapidly engulfs me.

"I should go."

My heart freezes at the thought. "You…d-d-don't wanna stay over?"

He rolls on top of me, then smiles. He pecks me on the cheek, and it's the cutest thing that's ever happened to me.

"I should go get a washcloth. You're drenched, stud."

We laugh, and he kisses me again, slower this time. He tastes like sweat, alcohol, and promises of more dates. "But I'm definitely staying over. If you don't want me to leave, that is."

Never. Stay with me forever, Natie Shiba . "I'd…l-l-like that. The perfect end to a perfect d-d-date."

He titters and kisses my chest. "It was, wasn't it?"

He disappears, but I know he'll be right back. I revel in the delight of sleeping with him tonight. Natie is so much more than what I dreamed he would be. But now that he has a vice grip on my heart, what will he do with it? There has to be a catch, right?

Those fears are tabled when he returns to clean me off. And when he cuddles me to sleep, I can't focus on anything else. My anxiety drifts away as Natie wraps his arms around me, draped in the soft moonlight.