knocking on the door of your sas vacation to ask "wanna practise?" for pegjop
“I’m failing to see the problem,” says Thomas, exhaling a cloud of smoke up towards the sky, his head tipped toward Harry’s on the blanket they both lie on. It’s that beautiful hour after sunset, when the sky is a glowing, almost electric blue, the very horizon lit up the same scarlet as the cherry on the cigarette they pass back and forth. Harry can tell that Thomas wants him to shut the fuck up and enjoy the peace of it all. “You want him, he obviously wants you, just ask him on a date.”
“What if I… do something wrong?”
“Meaning?”
Harry raises an eyebrow.
“Oh, come on Harry, it’s not as if you’ve never had sex before. When I lived with you and Rose I heard you fucking about five times a week, and that’s just when I was home.”
“You heard us?”
Thomas gives Harry a pointed look. “How thick did you think those walls were?”
“Look, that’s not the point,” says Harry quickly. “I’ve been with women, yeah, but I’ve never even kissed a man.”
“It’s not that different,” says Thomas with a shrug, taking another long drag off the cigarette and handing it back to Harry.
Harry snorts. “How the fuck would you know?”
“I’ve kissed women.”
“When?”
Thomas just shrugs. “You want to practise?”
“Fuck off,” says Harry, rolling his eyes.
“I’m serious,” says Thomas. “Not the fucking, you’ll have to work that one out on your own. But I’d kiss you, if you’re really that worried about it.”
Harry glances over at Thomas, who’s watching him, eyes cool and unreadable.
“Yeah?”
“Sure,” says Thomas.
Harry takes the last drag off the cigarette and reaches over his head to stub it out in the dirt above the blanket. “Alright.”
Thomas rolls onto his side and lifts himself up, half bracing himself above Harry, one hand beside his head. Then, with no fanfare, no hesitation, he leans in and kisses him.
It is different from kissing a woman, a bit. Thomas is firm and almost demanding in his kiss, his lips tasting of smoke and his chin rough with stubble, and his jaw is sharp when Harry reaches up to cup his face in one hand. It’s just kissing though when it comes down to it, easy to get lost in, to open his mouth and let his tongue brush Thomas’ and feel his breathing pick up as their bodies press together. Thomas nips gently at Harry’s bottom lip, and Harry lets out a breathy little noise, and finally Thomas pulls away with a soft laugh.
“Sure you don’t want to practise the fucking too?” asks Harry, grinning back at him, and Thomas snorts and pulls his pack of cigarettes back out to light another.
“Don’t want to ruin you for your old man now, do I?” he asks, and he shoots Harry a cheeky grin, eyes glittering in the evening light.