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Kisses (1/3)

The awning above them shudders in the wind, and occasionally one or two people pass by in a hurry to get out of the torrential downpour as fast as possible. Some eye up the little shelter they are standing under, but seem to think better of it once they take a look at the large man standing to Ganymede’s side. For once, he’s a little grateful for his imposing appearance.

He remembers clearly in his head the first time he saw Cerberus, and how his heart had swooped down to meet his stomach and he’d felt for all the world like he’d been robbed of breath. And oh, that first time he’d stepped into the cafe, hair all mussed from his bike helmet, Ganymede had almost dropped the jug of scalding hot milk all over himself.

And every day since he’s offered the same limited exchange of words as he provides the man his daily caffeine fix, until finally he’d mustered the courage two months later to ask him on a date. And now here they are, huddled under the awning of a corner store that’s dark and locked up tight while rain pelts down to soak anything it can. But elation fills him, and he cannot help but feel a little pleased that they get to spend a little longer together, even if they’d lapsed into comfortable silence for a while and simply watched the world rush by.

But at some point an itch started, and it grew and grew until it was near unbearable. He should wait until the rain lessens and they reach his apartment. He should see if Cerberus moves in, and yet he finds himself edging closer until their arms brush, and he can feel these eyes settle on him and his skin turns ruddy at the thoughts swirling in his head.

And yet his embarrassment cannot overcome the itch, so he turns until their eyes meet, and he has to crane his neck because Cerberus is so large in comparison to his own small frame, and it’s enough to make his knees weak. Others may regard the large man with fear, but Ganymede holds only admiration. The leather, the bike, the tattoos - none of it makes him want to cower or run. Instead he feels himself drawn in, quite literally as he inches closer and closer, face upturned even more in question; in invitation.

He isn’t big enough or brave enough to pull him in, but when Cerberus bends down, Ganymede surges up, and it is ultimately himself that brings their mouths together with a desperate whine. And oh, oh, oh — he could kiss him forever, this man who looks half wild and like he could tear out throats with that smile of his. But his teeth are gentle when they nip the boy’s plump lower lip, and his tongue asks permission to enter, and Gany is happy to give, and give, and give.

The first touch of tongue is electric, and makes him press up more as he offers himself to be devoured; Cerberus a wolf, and Ganymede the very willing prey. He doesn’t realise he’s whimpering until the other shushes him gently, never once leaving his lips but instead taking a gentle lead to swallow the sounds Gany can’t seem to withhold.

Time seem to lose meaning as they kiss there under that little shelter; they could have been there for weeks and he would not notice. But it is still raining when they part, though they do not go far. Their breath mingles between them, and Ganymede is sure he has turned the colour of wine and that his eyes must be blown so wide they look black in colour. He is greedy for more, but he holds back, lest he ask for it; this is only their first date.

So he ignores the heat ignited in his belly, and the way it feels to have those strong arms encircle him, and instead gathers his scrambled mind until he knows for certain he can form a coherent sentence, and his words, while breathless, carry a definitely chime of hope in them.

“Does this mean we can go on another date?”