Actions

Work Header

you been waiting for me

Work Text:

"You gotta tell me you want it." Drake says, his voice low and sultry, silky smooth and oh-so-sexy. "I won't do it unless you tell me you want it, Brooks."

Drake's muscular arms barricade Brooklyn against the wall of the hotel room, his breath ghosting across Brooklyn's ear as he leans in close. Brooklyn gasps involuntarily. The older man hasn't even touched him yet and he's as hard as a rock.

"Fuck," Drake curses. "I shouldn't be doing this. You're a kid."

"I'm seventeen." Brooklyn says forcefully, more-so than he meant, and he immediately wishes he could take it back, suck it out of the air. Plus, it doesn't help his age argument any. Technically, seventeen is still a child. Drake was twenty-nine, about to turn thirty in a few months, they shouldn't be doing this. He expects Drake to walk away from him, but he doesn't, instead he takes Brooklyn's ear lobe in between his teeth and lightly bites it.

Brooklyn shutters, his hands held firmly at his sides, afraid to touch. He holds his breath, wondering exactly how he got into this situation, in Drake's hotel room, about to live out his greatest fantasies.

It started when they met in the bathroom in Nobu a little over a year ago. It was a chance encounter nonetheless, and Drake had complimented Brooklyn on his shoes, and Brooklyn had be so starstruck he could barely mutter the words 'thank you'. Drake has taken notice of the boy's sudden stupor and find it...well, cute.

The second time they saw each other was less than a month later at the Cheesecake Factory in Anaheim. Brooklyn had been out with his family this time. When Brooklyn was sent back to the car to retrieve something, he ran into Drake. It was drizzling rain that day, and there was a slight chill in the air, but Brooklyn couldn't tell if the goosebumps on his skin were from the temperature or from being in the older man's presence again. This time, Brooklyn wasn't as starstruck, he spoke, his voice only slightly shaky. Drake made a cheesy joke that almost sounded like an even cheesier pick up line, but Brooklyn figured it was just his imagination. There's no way that Drake is in to him.

The third time that they met, things went a little differently. It was Coachella, and it was the first time they touched. It wasn't a serious touch or anything, it was alms or accidental, but when their arms brushed against each other they both felt it — that indescribable electricity that radiated under the skin for the rest of the night. Brooklyn didn't even remember the words they exchanged.

The fourth time they saw each other, Brooklyn was coming out of the gym and Drake was going in. Brooklyn was sweaty, tired, and looked pretty rough. Drake held the door open for him, and they ended up standing there for roughly two and a half minutes, just chatting, catching up. It had been two months since Coachella. Brooklyn still remembers what Drake said that day. You look great, man. Not only that, but he sized him up while doing it, a slow scan of Brooklyn's sweaty body. That was his second hint.

His third hint came during their fifth encounter, Brooklyn and a couple of friends had gone to a Rihanna concert, and in the VIP section, they made eye contact. They just stared at one another for a while, lost in each other. Then Drake smiled and winked, gesturing with his head for Brooklyn to come over. So Brooklyn did. They talked for an hour that night, chatting, getting to know one another. They were separate from their groups, sitting off in a corner somewhere. They gravitated closer to one another, naturally, as the conversation went on, and soon their legs were pressed together, Drake's arm was behind him on the chairs, and his hand was resting on Brooklyn's knee. That's the night they exchanged numbers.

There were plenty of other times after that that lead up to this moment in time now, his ear lobe between Drake's teeth, their bodies closer than they've ever been before.

"Aubrey." Brooklyn whispers, saying the older man's first name, not knowing it made Drake weak.

Drake releases Brooklyn's ear lobe, brushing his lips against the shell of Brooklyn's ear and whispering lowly, "Brooklyn."

Brooklyn feels a shiver run down the length of his spine. His palms are sweaty and his arms stay clamped down at his sides.

Drake reaches down with one hand, taking Brooklyn's smaller one, "Touch me, Brooks." He leads Brooklyn's hand up to his broad shoulder and places it there. He takes the other one and presses it against his firm chest, pulling back slightly to gauge Brooklyn's reaction. Brooklyn just looks on — a mix of wonder and fear written on his face.

Brooklyn glances up at Drake, and they look at each other for a while, just staring in silence, so caught up in one another. Drake grabs Brooklyn's hips lightly, stepping closer until their pressed against each other. He feels Brooklyn's hand grip his shoulder and he smiles, leaning down closer to Brooklyn. Brooklyn just stares up, his heart racing, his eyes wide.

Drake brushes his lips against Brooklyn's, and Brooklyn's eyes flutter closed as he lightly gasps, leaning up and wanting more and Drake pulls back.

"Is this alright?" Drake asks, rubbing Brooklyn's hips. Brooklyn nods, taking his hand off of his Drake's shoulder and placing it tentatively at the nape of Drake's neck.

Drake leans back down, brushing his lips against Brooklyn's again, this time not pulling away, but lightly kissing him. He's surprised when, a minute or two later, Brooklyn deepens it.

This is not Brooklyn's first kiss, he's kissed plenty of people, it's just that they've all been girls. This is first time ever kissing another guy, and for some reason—it just feels right. Like all the other kisses weren't real, just practice for this—the real thing. He loves the way Drake's beard lightly scratches his smooth skin, he loves the way Drake's lips move against his, taking control of the kiss, he loves the way Drake's hard body feels against his smaller frame. Everything about this is just...right. Their age-difference worries from earlier are out the window.

When Drake swipes his tongue across Brooklyn's bottom lip, Brooklyn opens his mouth, letting Drake invade the cavern, and Brooklyn is there to meet him. Their tongues slide against each other's sensually, there's no need to fight for dominance, they already know who the dominant one is in this situation. Drake tastes like a sweet mint, and it's something Brooklyn can't get enough of.

Drake pulls away long enough to pull his VIEWS shirt over his head and toss it to the floor. Brooklyn does the same, struggling slightly and not looking as graceful and sexy as Drake did, but he gets it off, and stands half-naked in front of Drake.

Drake dives back in, kissing him again in earnest. Brooklyn takes advantage of Drake's newly exposed skin, running his hands over his chest and his toned abdominal area, feeling the ridges of muscle there.

Drake slides his hands from Brooklyn's hips to his ass, picking his up and pressing his against the wall. Brooklyn wraps his legs around Drake's waist, his arms around his neck. Drake peels his back off of the wall and walks him to the couch, lying his down on the leather. Drake lays down on Brooklyn, holding himself up slightly as not to crush the boy, but putting enough of his weight on him to keep him pinned down in place. Brooklyn can feel the older man's hardness pressed into his thigh, and if Drake weren't kissing his breath away, it would probably take it away.

Sex. It's something they've talked about only once.

It was a late night phone conversation. Brooklyn was home in California and Drake was somewhere–New York? Las Vegas? Miami? Brooklyn couldn't remember. It came up abruptly, kind of out of the blue. Or maybe not? Drake was listening to a song that mentioned sex? Nothing like your first time — that was the lyric. Drake came right out and asked if Brooklyn was a virgin. It made Brooklyn nervous, anxious. He was, he told him the truth. It's not like Brooklyn had gone all the way before, but he had been with a couple of other people. Drake stayed quiet for a moment, and then he said something the Brooklyn will never forget: I want to have it. Drake wanted to take his virginity.

And now he was about to. Brooklyn couldn't really complain either, it's something he's been wanting since the first time in that Nobu bathroom. It would be a lie to say he had been saving himself for Drake his entire life, but ever since that Rihanna concert, he has.

Their naked chests were pressed together, Drake's much larger than Brooklyn's. Brooklyn wraps his arms back around Drake's neck as they kiss, clinging to each other like they were the last people on earth. In all honesty, it kind of felt that way — for both of them.

Drake pulls away from Brooklyn's swollen lips, kissing and biting along his jaw until he reached his neck. He kiss and bites lightly there, just enough to make Brooklyn shiver, but not enough to leave a mark.

"I would give you a hickey so everybody will now who you belong to." Drake murmurs against his neck. "But we don't want mommy and daddy to see, do we?" He smirks against Brooklyn's skin. Brooklyn can't help but smile as well. It's what Drake does to him.

Drake continues to kiss down his neck, licking a stripe across his chest before kissing, sucking, and nibbling on his left nipple, tweaking the other between his thumb and forefinger. Brooklyn's back arches and he bites his lip, he never knew somebody playing with his nipples would feel so good.

Drake kisses down his stomach, swirling his tongue is Brooklyn's naval. Brooklyn needs something to do with his hands, his nerves starting to kick in as Drake gets closer and closer to his dick. He doesn't want to disappoint the older man, he doesn't want him to laugh when he comes face to face with what Brooklyn has to offer.

Drake slowly works Brooklyn's sweatpants down his legs. Brooklyn lifts them to give him better access. Drake tosses them to the floor and slots himself between Brooklyn's spread legs. He looks up at Brooklyn and sees the fear in the boy's eyes. Drake gives him a reassuring smile, rubbing the insides of the boy's pale thighs. Brooklyn offers a smile back and turns his head up to the ceiling as Drake mouths at his bulge through his underwear. Brooklyn bites his lip, holding back a moan. Drake peels Brooklyn's boxers down, watching his weeping cock slap against his stomach. Brooklyn holds his breath, waiting for Drake to laugh in his face, but he's surprised when the man doesn't. Instead, he guides the head to his lips and lightly suckles on it.

Brooklyn grips the couch in his fist, holding back on his moans. Drake takes the rest of his cock into his mouth, starting to bob his head up and down Brooklyn's length. Brooklyn's legs start to shake as pleasure takes a hold of him, and Drake releases him from his mouth, his length slapping wetly against his groin.

Drake licks across Brooklyn's balls and kisses back up his stomach and chest to Brooklyn's lips, licking across them. Brooklyn leans up, wanting to kiss him, but Drake pulls away from him.

"We should stop." Drake says, but taking Brooklyn's length in his hand and stroking it slowly, squeezing tightly when he reaches the head.

Brooklyn shudders. "Why?"

Drake licks his own lips, Brooklyn following the movement of his pink tongue with his eyes. "You're seventeen."

"Are we really back on this again?" Brooklyn asks. "I told you I don't care."

"You never told me that you wanted it." Drake says, grinding his covered erection in Brooklyn's thigh. "You have to tell me that you want it, Brooks."

"I want it." Brooklyn says. "Please, I want it."

Drake smirks and readjusts their position, siting up on the couch with Brooklyn straddling his lap. Brooklyn can feel the older man's bulge in his jeans pressing up into his ass. They kiss each other hungrily now, all tongue and teeth. Their hands roam each other's bodies, Drakes large hands splay on the gloves of Brooklyn's ass, pulling and kneading at his cheeks.

"I want to give you head." Brooklyn says against Drake's lips.

"Yeah?" Drake asks. "I don't want you to do anything you're not comfortable with."

"I want to." Brooklyn says, sliding down and getting on his knees between Drake's legs. Drake raises his hips up, sliding his pants a me underwear down to his ankles and kicking them off. Brooklyn looks at Drake's length. It's the perfect size, much larger than Brooklyn's, bigger than average but not too big, thick with low-hanging balls. If a penis could be beautiful, Drake's would be.

Brooklyn reaches forward, taking it into his hand, feeling its heaviness. He wraps his fingers around it. It's the perfect fit in his hand. His fingers just barely wrap all the way around it, he holds it at the base, looking up at Drake.

Drake nods. "If it gets to be too much, just let me know. We can stop or slow it down or whatever you need."

Brooklyn nods, leaning forward and kitten licking the head, catching a bead of pearly precum on his tongue and tasting it. Salty and sweet. For some reason, he likes the taste. He goes a little further, taking the entire head into his mouth, and suckling lightly on it just like Drake had done to him.

Drake shifts a little beneath him, and Brooklyn looks up at him through his eyelashes. He's met with Drake's gaze, watching him intently, seemingly fascinated. He looks lax, too, his muscular arms spread out on the back of the couch, his head tilted slightly to the side, watching as Brooklyn takes more of him into his mouth.

Brooklyn sucks, bobbing his head up and down slowly, experimentally. He has no clue what he's doing, and he hopes that he's doing a good job. He can't tell, not with the way that Drake keeps looking at him, not a care in the world. Maybe he's doing bad. Maybe he's bored. That why.

"Stop thinking about it, B." Drake says. "Just go wth the flow."

Brooklyn breathes through his nose, trying to stop thinking about it, but he can't. All he can think about is how bad he's probably doing. He pulls up, swirling his tongue around the head, thinking back to all the porn he watched in hopeful preparation for this moment. He takes Drake back into his mouth, reaching up and rolling his balls in one hand and stroking the part of Drake's cock he can't fit into his mouth.

This must feel good, because Drake reaches forward and takes the side of Brooklyn's head into his hands, his fingers tangling themselves in Brooklyn's dark brown locks. He lets Brooklyn bob his head up and down his length a few more times before taking over, guiding Brooklyn's head.

By now there's a mix of spit and precum leaking from the corner's of his mouth running down Brooklyn's chin. Brooklyn tries to keep up, each time Drake pushes Brooklyn further and further down his tower of flesh, until Brooklyn can't take anymore and he starts to gag.

Drake pulls his dick out of Brooklyn's mouth. "Shit, shit, shit, Brooklyn I'm sorry."

Brooklyn wipes his mouth, looking up at Drake as he reaches forward and pushes a lock of Brooklyn's hair off of his forehead.

"I'm sorry." Drake says again. "It was too much, I should've just let you—"

"Stop." Brooklyn says, standing back up and straddling Drake's waist again, his wet cock pressed against Brooklyn's bare ass. "It's alright."

Drake circles his arms around Brooklyn's waist, and Brooklyn places his hands on Drake's shoulders. They stare into each other's eyes for a little while, just sitting there.

"You want to keep going?" Drake asks, rubbing the small of Brooklyn's back.

Brooklyn nods. "Yes."

Drake nods, kissing Brooklyn again, this time softer than the previous kisses. Sweeter. Brooklyn touches Drake's bearded cheek, kissing back just as slowly.

Drake stands up, carrying Brooklyn—who clings to him—to the bedroom. They fall onto the bed, their kiss not breaking as they land in the satin sheets. Drake grinds their erection together, creating a a perfectly desired friction.

Brooklyn wraps his legs around Drake's waist as Drake pulls away from him, a string of spit connecting their mouths before it snaps in half.

"You're so beautiful, baby boy." Drake says, running his fingers through Brooklyn's messy hair. Brooklyn blushes from the compliment, smiling giddily to himself.

Drake reaches over to the bedside table, reaching into the drawer and grabbing a condom and a tube of lube. He puts them to the side, looking back down at Brooklyn. "You're sure about this, right?"

"I've never been more sure about anything in my life." Brooklyn says, pulling Drake back down for another kiss. He couldn't get enough of the older man's lips.

He doesn't register when Drake opens up the bottle of lube, not until there's a lubed-up finger circling his entrance. Brooklyn immediately reacts, tensing up.

"Come on, Brooks." Drake says against his lips. "Open up for me."

Brooklyn takes a deep breath and relaxes, laying still as Drake slowly breaches him with his finger, sliding it in to the knuckle and leaving it there. It feels weird, Brooklyn has to admit that, but it doesn't hurt like he thought it would. Maybe it's because he's done it to himself before—even though he's never made it past one finger—or maybe it's because Drake has the magic touch. Drake starts to move it inside of him, sliding it in and out and twisting it. The entire time their lips are just barely brushing against each other's, staring into each other's eyes.

Drake kisses him again as he starts to work in a second finger alongside the first one. Brooklyn shifts a little, now it's becoming uncomfortable, still not painful though. Drake leaves them still for a few minutes, allowing time for Brooklyn to adjust, then he starts to move them. Brooklyn focuses hard to stay relaxed, to tense up, instead he just kisses Drake and allows himself to be kissed.

By the time Drake is finished the third finger and working the fourth one in, Brooklyn is biting Drake's lip. It kind of hurts now, still more uncomfortable than anything, but there's a hint of pain.

"You're doing so good, baby." Drake says when Brooklyn releases his bottom lip from his hold. "You're doing so good."

Drake twists and turns his fingers, stretching Brooklyn open. Brooklyn pushes back against his fingers, relaxing even more as the hint of pain leaves. Drake has been saving this until the end, but now he thinks it's time. He finds it with ease, that little bundle of nerves inside of Brooklyn, and he brushes his fingers against it. He smirks when Brooklyn's body spasms with pleasure, his mouth falling open in a silence moan, pushing back even more onto Drake's fingers.

"Did that feel good?" Drake asks huskily. "Did you like that, B?"

Brooklyn nods, biting his bottom lip as Drake does it again. His dick is painfully hard and throbbing now, jerking every time Drake's fingers brush against his prostate.

"Are you ready for it?" Drake whispers against Brooklyn's ear. "You ready for my dick?"

Brooklyn nods. He's so ready. He's so worked up. He's so horny.

Drake slowly retracts his fingers, and Brooklyn almost whimpers from the empty feeling, but he stops himself. He thinks back to the porn he had watched, studying, trying to think back to how they took their partner's dick so well. Brooklyn can only hope he's half as good for Drake.

Drake tears open the condom with his teeth. "Put it on me."

Brooklyn doesn't think, he just reaches forward and takes the condom, oddly the first time he's ever touched one before. It feels different than he thought it would, slimier. Maybe it's because it's the prelubricated kind. He doesn't really know.

Drake pushes himself up on his arms and watches as Brooklyn reaches down and struggles slightly to roll the condom down his length. He starts to get frustrated, his fingers shaky. Drake uses one hand and helps him, guiding him as the roll the condom on together.

He looks up at Drake, he smirks and kisses him again. The kiss is greedy again, harder than before, rougher than it's ever been.

Drake lubes himself up while he continues to kiss Brooklyn, then he shifts up onto his knees, turning Brooklyn over onto his stomach. Brooklyn starts to get up on all fours, but Drake pushes him back down flat. He takes takes a pillow and puts it underneath Brooklyn's hips, bending one of Brooklyn's legs at the knee and pushing it up, exposing his lubed ass.

Brooklyn bites his bottom lip, gripping the sheets in anticipation for what's to come next. Drake places the blunt mushroom head of his cock at Brooklyn's entrance, leaning down and kissing the back of Brooklyn's neck. He uses his free hand and takes Brooklyn's, pushing it above his head and pinning it down. He uses his other hand to guide his cock as he starts to push in. Brooklyn relaxes and then gasps as the head pops in, and Drake stills.

"Just relax." He coos in Brooklyn's ear, flicking his tongue out at the shell.

Brooklyn bites into the sheets as Drake inches forward slowly, stopping when he's halfway in and pulling out then pushing back in. Brooklyn's eyes are screwed shut tightly, his teeth gritted together. Drake watches his reaction in the mirrors in the headboard. Brooklyn reaches over and grabs Drake's other arm, which is next to his head now, and digging his nails into the flesh. Drake slides out and slides back in again, this time pushing in further than before. He does it again and again, until he finally bottoms out, his curly public hairs pressed into Brooklyn's ass.

Drake breathes against the back of Brooklyn's neck. "Damn, B, you're tight."

Brooklyn keeps his eyes screwed shut, trying to keep his breathing even, trying to ignore the searing pain in his backside. He briefly wonders how the pornstars do it, and then he remembers one of the numerous articles he read, saying that it gets better each time you do it. They're probably well practiced.

"You're doing so good." Drake says. "You're taking me so well."

Drake's praise makes him feel better. He opens his eyes and looks at himself in the mirror—his hair is all over his head, his face is flushed red, his lips are swollen and shiny, and his eyes are watery. Then he looks up, sees Drake behind him, broad and muscular, much bigger than Brooklyn. He stares back at him, his lips parter, his eyes glazed over with lust, his expression one of pleasure. Brooklyn is doing this to him.

"Tell me if you want me to stop." Drake says. "If you want me to pull out I will. I want it to feel good for both of us."

"Don't pull out." Brooklyn says, his voice coming out shaky. "Just give me a minute."

"Of course." Drake says. "Take all the time you need." He says it so easily, as if he wasn't buried balls deep in Brooklyn's ass right now.

They stare at each other for a long while as Brooklyn adjusts, the throbs of Drake's thick cock leading to a small hint of pleasure blooming inside of him, not enough to outweigh the pain but enough to make Brooklyn take notice.

"Okay," Brooklyn says. "Just slow, yeah?"

Drake nods. "Yes, of course."

Drake slowly pulls out a few inches then slowly sinks back inside, biting his lip. Brooklyn squeezes his eyes shut again as a new wave of pain takes over.

"B-"

"No, keep going." Brooklyn breathes out. "Please."

Drake sighs, moving slower this time. Brooklyn remains static, so Drake does it again. Brooklyn's fingers dig deeper into the skin of his forearm as Drake does it again and again. A few minutes later he's pulling out the head and then sinking back inside, he brushes against Brooklyn's prostate, and Brooklyn tosses his head back and bites his lip, a wave of pleasure washing over him.

Drake does it again, watching as Brooklyn silently reacts, holding back his moans.

"Let me hear you, B." Drake says, rocking into Brooklyn, hitting his prostate each time.

Brooklyn lets out a moan as Drake does it again, speeding up his thrusts. Brooklyn still feels pain, but now it's pleasurable. It finally feels good.

"Again." Brooklyn breathes out.

Drake does it again, pushing right into Brooklyn's prostate. Brooklyn gasps and mains again, dragging his blunt nails down Drake's forearm.

"You like this dick, B? Huh?" Drake asks, his voice low and husky. "You're taking it so well baby. You're so tight. So small. Damn, I'm about to split you wide open, B."

Drake's dirty talk eggs Brooklyn on, pushing him closer to orgasm. Brooklyn dick is hard and leaking a copious precum, it spreads on the sheets beneath him, getting on his skin.

Drake pulls out of Brooklyn, and he winces. He looks at Drake in the mirror, upset that he pulled out.

"You want to ride me, baby?" Drake asks.

Brooklyn nods before he even realizes it. Drake sits up, his back against the headboard, and Brooklyn straddles his hips. He reaches behind him and takes Drake's lube covered dick in his hand and guides it back to his ass. He slowly sinks down on it, biting his lip as it fills him back up, stretching him wide. He moans when he's finally seated, Drake's dick deeper inside of him than it was before.

"Shit, B." Drake says lowly, rubbing his ass with his hands. Brooklyn grabs on to Drake's shoulders for supports and starts to bounce on his lap, slowly at first, but gaining speed and fervor.

Brooklyn moans as he rides Drake, his thighs burning as he raises up and down.

"That's it, B." Drake says, grabbing Brooklyn's ass cheeks roughly. "Ride that dick. Damn, you look so good."

Brooklyn keeps going, speeding up as he feels Drake brush against his prostate again. He rights his grip on Drake's shoulder, pushing his hips down harder as he feels his orgasm approaching.

"Shit, I'm gonna cum." Brooklyn moans.

"Yeah?" Drake asks, smirking when Brooklyn curses. He's never done that before. "Wanna watch you. Come all undone just from my dick. Wanna it to get all over us."

Between Drake spewing absolute filth and his big dick inside of him, Brooklyn can't take it anymore, he cums hard, his dick shooting the white liquid all over both of their bodies. Drake guides his smaller body up and down his cock, fucking him through his orgasm. Brooklyn moans, scratching across Drake's chest as he comes.

"Look at you." Drake says, letting Brooklyn sit still on his dick. "Look at you, B."

Brooklyn stills a glance of himself in the mirror. He looks theo roughly fucked, his hair plastered to his forehead, a thin sheen of sweat covering his body, all of his skin flushed red.

Drake rolls them over, Brooklyn on to his back, not once pulling out. He starts to thrust into him again, hard and fast. Brooklyn moans, grabbing on to Drake, his cock becoming hard again, throbbing against his stomach.

Drake stops, pulling Brooklyn's knees up onto his shoulders, and leaning down. Brooklyn's knees touch his own shoulders, and Drake starts to drive into him again, going deeper than before in this new position, and Drake nails his prostate.

Brooklyn moans, almost screaming as he does this. Drake takes Brooklyn's hands, pinning them down next to his head, not letting him move. He leans down and kisses Brooklyn as he thrusts harder into the smaller boy, his balls slapping against the pale and hairless ass.

Brooklyn can feel his second orgasm approaching, and he moans into Drake's mouth as it hits him, wave after wave of pleasure. "Aubrey..." Brooklyn moans out.

Brooklyn's ass tightens around Drake's length as his orgasm rocks him to his core. "Shit, B." Drake moans against his lips. "I'm so close."

"Cum in me." Brooklyn moans out. "Fill me up, Aubrey. Please."

Drake thrusts faster and harder, biting Brooklyn's lip as he cums hard—possibly harder than he's ever came before—riding his own orgasm out, Brooklyn's ass milking him dry.

They sit there in silence for a moment, catching their breaths, Drake's hips swivel slightly. Drake slowly pulls out, and Brooklyn winces as he does.

"Are you hurting?" Drake asks, it's a rhetorical question, of course he's hurting, but his expression is one of pure concern.

Brooklyn shrugs. "Only a little."

Drake kisses his forehead. "I'm sorry, B."

Brooklyn touches his chest, "No, don't be. I wanted it. I liked it."

"You were so good." He kisses Brooklyn. "So good."

Brooklyn smiles and he stands up, peeling the condom off and tying it, tossing it into the trash can in the corner. He walks back over and crawls on to the bed.

"How long do you have left before curfew?" Drake asks, nuzzling into Brooklyn's neck and throwing an arm over his stomach, pulling him against him.

"Uh," Brooklyn looks at the clock on the side table. "I need to leave in fifteen minutes if I want to make it back in time."

"Then let's lay here for ten." Drake murmurs sleepily. Brooklyn nuzzles against him as well, their bodies molding together, just like they belong together.

Maybe because they do. But that's something they'll both just have to wait and see.