-Dillon-

In my room I begin to kiss him again, leaning down to meet his lips, my hand behind his head to support it. He's a good kisser, and his lips are so soft. His skin is so soft, softer than mine and I love the feeling of it.

I can tell he gets a bit confused about my admiring silence, when I stop to just look at him, but I can't help staring at his beauty. Out on the porch he looked so irresistible; his head bent back in pleasure, lips partly open and that soft whimper that passed his lips.

I keep my hands on his face as I kiss him, backing up towards my queen-sized bed. He stumbles a bit, at being pushed backwards and not being able to see anything, but he steadies himself with his hands at my waist.

Once I have him leaning back on my bed I lay myself halfway on top of him, our bodies flush against each other, the only thing between our bare flesh is the thin layer of clothing and I feel my body reacting to it. I stare down at his flushed face for a bit before kissing him again and trailing my tongue down his neck and to his collar bone to suck and nibble the soft skin there.

He's the most innocent and passionate kisser I've ever had and I'm loving every minute of just holding him and making sure he knows how much he means to me, how beautiful he is. My hand trails up his shirt, feeling his stomach and trailing to his side and back to his stomach just below his belly button; soft other than a few stray hairs there, but the rest of his chest is completely hairless. He's squirming under me, excited and unable to control himself, not used to be touched in such a way.

My shades are open and the moon's light makes his skin a soft blue colour, almost translucent. I can't stop myself from stopping every once in a while, and just looking at him. I kiss the sensitive skin at the crook of his neck but stop abruptly when I feel trembling, tentative lips graze my earlobe. A low moan escapes my mouth. I've never felt this way before, never had this much of myself go into someone else's pleasure. I've never been so turned on mentally as well as physically, never cared so much about someone.

Music absent, all that can be heard is the sound of the wind outside the window and the noises of lips and tongues coming into contact with each other.

Soon out shirts are stripped and dropped carelessly and forgotten to the floor. His flesh is cool against mine and it's unbelievable how turned on I get from the simple contact.

This is everything I wanted for so long. To be intimate with Weston, and have him completely to myself.

We lay, kissing for hours and when I finally pull back from him and glance to the clock it's already 10:13. We're both breathing hard and Wes's hair is sticking up in every direction. I lay myself down next to him on my side, my head propped up in my elbow so I can face him. I give him a small smile and he stares at me with wide eyes and his mouth slightly parted, trying to pull enough air into his lungs. Taking a deep breath he sighs and bites his lip.

After a few minutes he breaks into a smile and laughing, he pushes me over onto my back and straddles my waist, cuddling up on top of me, his head tucked under my chin and his feathery hair tickling my face a little.

"You're fun," he says softly against my chest and I chuckle at him.

"So are you," I respond, kissing the top of his head. My chest rising and falling with my breath causes his small body to be lifted up and down along with it.

He props himself up, elbows on each side of my head, his fingers idly playing with my necklace.

"What do you want to do?" I ask, watching him quietly.

He shrugs and whispers distractedly, "Anything."

I roll him off of me and look down at him from a sitting position. His eyes are glowing against the coppery colour of my now rumpled duvet. I suggest a movie.

I have a collection of Weston-esque movies in the basement. We have a home theater and Wes and I used to constantly come over and watch movies when Robbie would be out at his parties. Every time we did he'd always felt horrible; making me stay home for him, he'd say. But he didn't get that I wanted to be there with him, more than I wanted to be with Robbie or at a lame house party. I wanted to be alone with him, to be able to spend time with him and watch him.

I slip in Donnie Darko, Wes's favourite movie ever, and make my way to sit next to him on the couch. I've see it a dozen times because of him, so I have trouble paying attention.

Wes is leaning against me, his fingers under my shirt, touching my stomach. I try not to even think about it or at least think about the feeling but I can't. My mind keeps wondering if he thinks it needs toning or something. Telling myself that the thought is ridiculous doesn't help, but it plagues my mind for most of the movie.

He leans over and kisses my neck halfway through the film. Feeling a bit better, I smile. Weston is curious I know. Curious but hesitant, he wants to explore and try new things but he's too shy to ask. For once, I think this is a good thing, because I'm afraid if he asked I wouldn't say no. I don't want to rush into things with Weston, I want to keep everything slow and meaningful, and I want to cherish every first.

A/N: I am aware this is a bit short, but it was the most appropriate spot I thought to cut it off, plus, people have been waiting so I should get it up. I have rewritten and even posted a few of the revamped chapters in the beginning. I'm trying to get everything straightened out and organized. Hopefully you all enjoy this chapter. Thank you so much to Sundown, Nikki, Emma the Paradox, Inherent, and MistressELEMENT for the lovely reviews and encouragment.

Reviews please? Thanks so much.