Never had Eve been in a relationship, or really, anyone in general, where he had a difference between sex, and fucking. Fucking in general was something he didn’t do. The term meant something far different. But oh, just think of last time he and Bryce had sex. No, that was not when he’d call sex. That was one fucking good fuck. This, though. This was sex. This would be deep, and meaningful, and he was going to put everything he had into it because that’s what you did when you are so into someone. Sex becomes that much greater. He was a bit excited to find out what fucking would be like now. As Bryce fumbled to take both of their clothes off, Eve just went along, ginning like a dumb child. He didn’t think Bryce would actually be so nervous, or anxious about something like this. He seemed so confident. It made Eve proud that he had this effect on someone who did that to him nearly every time. With a light chuckle, he pulled from their sweet kiss, and pressed lightly on his shoulders so he fell back on the bed, Eve not far behind as he made his way over him. With another sweet kiss, his thighs were pressing into Bryce’s hips, hovering over him with a grin, “I’m not kidding, you know. I might have tried to get off a couple times but it never worked.” And another sweet kiss, “You fucked me up, you little shit.” His hands traveled up Bryce’s chest, the pads of his fingers pressing into his collar. Something about his collar. Something he loved. He was going to go slow. He wanted it to last. He wanted Bryce to memorize what it looked, felt, sounded like to have sex with Eve; to have sex with Eve when he was trying to communicate his adoration through intimacy. To study him like a textbook. Get lost in pleasure and let him take over for once. His lips were traveling over his jaw, nipping at the skin where jaw and neck met, already beginning to roll his hips slowly against Bryce’s. He would make it last, but he wouldn’t stall.
Bryce has only been in one real relationship -- at least, he thought it was real. He never found himself ever opening up about Ramona but he did today, he never said her name because the saying, hearing, and seeing her name made him sick. But he did, and in a way it made him feel better about what happened. Not that he ever really understood it all. He pushed through thoughts from his mind, trying to focus on Eve. Eve, Eve, Eve. His lips were soft and the way he spoke to him between kisses made it so much better, it made him shiver and actually become nervous. Bryce won't admit it but he has horrible anxiety, but he never shows a trace of being nervous -- or anxious, or jittery, but right now he was nervous and you could tell by the way the tips of his fingers were shaking as he gripped Eve's shoulders, pulling their bodies closer. If that were even possible, he felt like he was glued to him at this point. Hues of blue rolled at his statement, a small scoff pushing past petals of now bright red, swollen from kissing. "That's what I'm here for, don't you know. To fuck shit up." He laughed out, his small laugh turning into a tiny gasp of pleasure at the feeling of Eve's lips over his jaw and neck. He wasn't usually this sensitive, or maybe he was and he was just way to used to being the dominant one in every scenario he's found himself in. The grip Bryce had to his shoulders soon moved to his back, the pads of his fingers pressing into the curve of his spine beginning to trace down. Since when was he so long and toned and -- wow, he was good looking. Bryce felt like he was seeing the world for the first time and he's been missing out. "Eve.." He found himself whimpering out, his hips bucking up into his slowly, his head tilting back to give him more access to his neck because it felt too damn good. Especially the way his name seemed to roll off his tongue, those stupid three letters. They felt so nice.
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