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1.
Gun had no idea how distracting he was even though Tinn had told him. Countless times. If Gun was in the room, Tinn couldn’t concentrate on literally anything else. The only way he’d passed his classes was by sitting in the very front row so that Gun was completely out of sight. Otherwise, he would have stared at him instead of the teacher. Sometimes he did anyway, turning all the way around in his seat before realizing how insane that made him look. Luckily, Gun hardly ever noticed. He was blessedly oblivious like that.
Now that they were dating, things had gotten worse. Now, Tinn wasn’t only distracted by the idea of Gun, he was distracted by Gun himself—a Gun that he could talk to and kiss. Tinn didn’t have enough self-control to refuse him, so instead he scheduled whole days into the narrow spaces of time when Chinzhilla was practicing because the alternative was not seeing Gun at all and he certainly didn’t want that.
“Want to come hang out at my place for a while?” Gun asked after school one day, leaning up against the locker next to Tinn’s as Tinn packed his backpack with the night’s homework. When Tinn glanced up at him, he waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Tinn reached out and forcibly turned his head away because he couldn’t say no to those eyes. He just couldn’t.
“I can’t. I have to get some stuff done for student council,” he said, thinking about the literal mountains of overdue paperwork that had piled up on his desk. It was a wonder his mom hadn’t impeached him yet. He was an objectively bad school president—at least to every student who wasn’t Gun.
“Just you?” Gun asked. Tinn nodded.
“Then I’ll stay and keep you company.”
And although Tinn knew he should tell him no for productivity purposes, he didn’t actually want to because it was a scene right out of his fantasies. When he’d imagined having a boyfriend, he’d thought of Gun sitting with him as he slogged through long hours of work. He’d thought of doing the same for him when he stayed late at school to practice.
“Okay,” he agreed, more excited than he probably should be to sit in a room and do paperwork.
And that’s how, an hour later, he found himself staring mesmerized at his boyfriend as Gun regaled him with a tale about the band while the stack of forms in front of him got no smaller.
“Gun,” he whined when he caught sight of the time. “Stop distracting me. I’ve got to get this done.”
“I’m not distracting you! I’m just talking.”
“It’s the same thing.”
“Fine,” Gun said with a huff of feigned frustration. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Then I won’t say a word.” He locked his lips with an invisible key and then tossed it over his shoulder.
“Thank you,” Tinn sighed, genuinely delighted, and turned back to the stack of papers with renewed motivation.
They made it less than a minute before Gun started humming. Tinn tried to ignore it, but he found himself trying to guess which song it was instead. Which song was important enough that it was taking up space in his head. Minutes passed before he realized he was once again not working. He shook the distraction off and turned back to the papers in front of him.
Things went a lot more smoothly after that and before he knew it, he had made quite a dent in his to-do list. Gun, however, seemed to have had enough.
“Can we go home now?” he grumbled. “I want a snack.”
Tinn had no idea whether he’d meant that comment to be suggestive, but he glared at him just in case. “Ten more minutes,” he said. “I just need to finish one last thing.”
Gun’s patience lasted for a grand total of sixty seconds before Tinn felt the gentle press of a socked foot against his. He withdrew his own, thinking it was an accident, but then Gun pressed again—harder this time—and began to run his foot up Tinn’s thigh. Tinn glared across the table at him, but Gun was staring at the ceiling, the picture of innocence.
“Gun,” he whined.
“Yes, Mr. President?”
“Five more minutes.”
But Gun was, apparently, done being ignored. He continued playing footsie with Tinn under the table until Tinn completely gave up working. He still pretended to though because he didn’t want him to stop. He looked across the table at Gun, who was looking across the table at him, and they both leaned in at the same time as if for a kiss when—
Wham.
They were shocked apart as a large binder was dropped haphazardly on the table between them. Tinn looked up to find Kajorn glaring at Gun as if he was the devil incarnate.
“Jorn,” Tinn greeted, trying desperately to regain the composure he’d never even had in the first place. “I didn’t know you were still here.”
Kajorn finally looked away from Gun and smiled at Tinn as if Gun wasn’t even in the room. “I finished gathering the data about student club membership for you,” he said, gesturing towards the binder. Tinn hesitantly opened it to find pages and pages of color-coded and highlighted data that looked like it had taken hours—if not days—to compile. It was above and beyond what he had asked for. He closed the binder again, frankly scared of the knowledge it held.
“Thank you, Kajorn. I'll look it over.”
Kajorn nodded, appeased, but made no move to leave and instead directed his attention back to Gun. “You’re not allowed to be in here, you know,” he said matter-of-factly. “It’s for student council members only.”
Gun forced a smile. “Well, I have the president’s permission, so…”
They both turned to look at Tinn and it wasn’t until Gun stomped hard on his foot that he realized it was up to him to settle this. He was not, however, a big fan of confrontation and he really couldn’t stand to lose Kajorn’s loyalty when he was the one who picked up all the slack that Tinn inevitably left behind. So he took the easy way out. “We were just leaving,” he said.
Kajorn perked up at this. “I’ll wait to walk you out then.”
“I’m walking him out,” Gun interjected. Kajorn ignored him and Tinn found himself once again stuck between the two of them. He rolled his eyes in exasperation.
“You can go ahead, Kajorn,” he finally said. “I’m going home with Gun anyway.”
Kajorn looked far less pleased by this turn of events. “Fine. But if you have any questions about the data, just call me. I put my number inside the binder.” Then, miraculously, he left.
“‘I put my number inside the binder,’” Gun mocked, yanking the binder towards himself. “Let me see that.”
“Gun,” Tinn warned.
“You know he has a crush on you, right?”
This legitimately took Tinn by surprise. “What?! No, he doesn’t!”
Gun flipped the binder around to show Tinn the letter that had been written on the inside front cover. It started with “Hi, P’Tinn” and a heart emoji and only got more effusive from there.
“Gun,” he groaned, trying to steal it back, but Gun held it just out of his reach, so Tinn got up and walked around the table.
“‘If you need anything, P’Tinn,’” Gun quoted, laughing as he tried to evade capture. “A back rub, a blow job, a hired assassin.”
“Gun!” Tinn cried, but he was laughing now too. Gun had descended into a fit of giggles so debilitating he could no longer hold onto the book, so Tinn took it from him and tossed it out of his reach. “Are you done now?” he asked.
Gun shrugged coyly and Tinn could tell he was only just getting started, but luckily he had learned a few tricks over the past few weeks and knew one sure-fire way to calm him down. He leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the lips. Gun smiled against his mouth and when Tinn finally pulled away, his face was glowing.
“Fine. I’ll stop making fun of your stalker,” Gun said, placated. Then he stood and threw his hand over his forehead like a damsel in distress. “Now take me home and have your way with me!”
“You’re so ridiculous,” Tinn said, laughing.
“But you love me,” Gun said. And, yeah. Tinn kind of did.
2.
It was a few weeks later and Tinn had somehow managed to get his parents to agree to let him sleep over at Gun’s house as long as Gun’s mom was home and the bedroom door stayed open. He’d told them they weren’t having sex, but neither seemed to believe him. He wasn’t sure whether to be offended or pleased by their disbelief, but it didn’t matter. Gun was asleep in his arms.
The movie they were supposed to be watching was now muted on Gun’s TV and instead of watching it, Tinn was watching Gun instead. He looked younger in sleep—his features softened, his face carefree—but his hand was tangled in the fabric of Tinn’s shirt as if his one worry was that Tinn might leave.
Tinn felt deeply content as he lay there stoking Gun’s hair and he imagined what it would be like if this was his life—Gun's face the last thing he saw every night and the first thing he saw every morning. He wasn’t sure how he had gotten so lucky. Sometimes it still felt like a dream.
He was startled from his reverie as a beam of light swept across the room. He looked up to find Gun’s mom standing in the doorway. He moved to sit up, but Gun grumbled at the sudden movement and he gave it up as a lost cause. Gun’s mom didn’t seem to mind. She smiled at them fondly.
“Do you need anything before I go to bed?” she whispered.
“No, ma’am. Thank you for letting me stay.”
She waved him off. “You won’t be thanking me tomorrow. Be careful with that one. He’s like a little koala when he sleeps.”
As if to prove her point, Gun chose that moment to toss one of his legs over Tinn’s, rolling over to bury his face more deeply in Tinn’s chest. Tinn felt himself blushing, but Gim only laughed.
“Get some sleep,” she said. “I’ll cook you breakfast in the morning.” Then she left them alone, shutting the door behind her as if she had no worries about what the two of them might get up to in the dark.
Tinn looked down at Gun’s sleeping form. “Your mom likes me,” he informed him proudly. Gun just drooled.
The movie that neither of them had been watching finally ended and Tinn fished around for the remote so that he could turn the TV off. The movement must have woken Gun because he grumbled in protest.
“Just a few more minutes,” he begged.
Tinn chuckled. “Go back to sleep. I was just turning off the TV.”
This seemed to appease Gun. Within seconds, he was gone again. Tinn kissed the top of his head and pulled him close. “Good night, Gun,” he whispered. Gun squeezed him a little tighter as if even lost in dreams, he could still hear him.
3.
Tinn would like the record to show that he was a good student before he met Gun—or at least a better student—but that was before he had a boyfriend capable of tempting him to skip class with only the promise of kisses. Although it turned out that sometimes his boyfriend lied.
“I thought you brought me here to make-out,” Tinn whined as they stepped into the music club and Gun ran immediately to his guitar.
Gun smirked as he threw the strap over his shoulder. “Does baby want some kisses?” he taunted, stepping forward with his lips puckered. Tinn knew he was being made fun of, but he wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity. He gave Gun a peck on the lips that left both of them smiling like lunatics.
“How about we do both?” Gun offered, taking a seat in an empty chair. “I started writing this song last night. I want you to hear it.”
“Fine,” Tinn said, sitting down next to him. He tried to feign disappointment, but the truth was that he wasn’t disappointed at all. Hearing Gun sing a song he’d written himself was better than any kiss. It was a look inside his soul.
Gun beamed. “See! Compromise. Look how good we are at this relationship thing.”
Then he strummed a few bars of a song about first love—about its innocence and its immortality—and at the end, when he finally looked Tinn in the eyes, it felt like some sort of declaration.
“So?” he prompted, setting the guitar down.
“It was beautiful,” Tinn answered honestly.
Gun rolled his eyes. “You’re so bad at this. You always think everything sounds good.”
“Because it does!”
“No, it doesn’t! You’re just in love with me. I should start picking a fight with you before playing you new music. Maybe then I could get some constructive feedback.”
“It was good!” Tinn said again, more adamant this time. “I’m in love, not deaf. I would tell you if it sucked. I wouldn’t want you to embarrass me.”
Gun smirked. “Is that right?”
“Yes.”
Gun reached out and tickled his chin and Tinn was in cuteness overload. He had no defenses against Gun—Gun had never given him a reason to build any. It made it all the more embarrassing when he was leveled by something as innocuous as a touch.
“Can I kiss you now?” he asked excitedly.
Gun laughed. “I suppose so.”
Tinn cupped his cheek in his hand and leaned in slowly. Gun was still smiling when their lips touched. Immediately, there were fireworks.
Tinn was still getting used to this part. Although they had kissed many times, it never failed to take his breath away and with each kiss, he learned something new—about himself, about Gun. He liked that they were learning together.
Once Gun’s laughter subsided, he deepened the kiss, moving closer on his chair until he was almost in Tinn’s lap. Tinn thought longingly of the beds on the other side of the room and wondered if Gun would be amenable to relocating, but before he could ask, they were interrupted by a loud crash.
They startled apart and looked up to find that they had been joined in the room by what looked to be a human-sized pair of tussling kittens. Only once one had pressed the other into the wall and they had stopped moving did Tinn realize it was Sound and Win, kissing feverishly. Gun let out a squawk of surprise that luckily didn’t go unnoticed by the other boys. They pulled apart with a wet squelching sound like a suction cup being pulled from a wall and then stared at Tinn and Gun in horror.
“Um, hi,” Gun said with a wave.
“What are you doing here?” Win asked. "Aren't you supposed to be in class?"
Gun gestured to the “Music Club” sign on the wall and then to the guitar sitting at his feet. “Playing music,” he said pointedly. “What are you doing here?”
Tinn thought the answer to that was pretty obvious. Sound and Win exchanged a look, but chose not to implicate themselves by saying anything.
“So…” Sound said after a few seconds of very awkward silence. His hair was sticking up comically as if Win had been running his fingers through it. “Are you done ‘playing music’ or…?”
“Fine. Whatever,” Gun snapped, standing. “Use the Music Club as your own personal sex dungeon. I don’t care. But just remember: the Holy Chinzhilla is watching. Come on, Tinn.”
Sound and Win looked wide-eyed at the Holy Chinzhilla shrine on the other side of the room and bowed in apology. Gun took no notice. He was already halfway down the hall.
“Check the room next time, will you?” Tinn hissed before following him out.
4.
Tinn hadn’t known kissing could feel this good. That was probably naive of him, but even in his most elaborate dreams, he hadn’t known that his body was capable of feeling the things Gun was making him feel.
They were in the living room of Tinn’s house, truly alone for the first time since they started dating. Tinn’s parents had left for a few hours to go on a date of their own and Tinn and Gun were taking full advantage of the privacy. A movie was playing on the TV, but neither of them were watching it. Instead, Tinn was laying on the couch with Gun on top of him and they were kissing.
Tinn had gotten more comfortable with kissing over the past few weeks, but he hadn’t known it would feel different when he was laying down. He hadn’t known it would feel different when they were alone.
They had been kissing for so long that his lips were swollen and he felt ready to vibrate out of his skin. He was hard and Gun was too, but they were both ignoring it. Kissing was enough. Or, well, almost enough. Tinn found himself wanting to touch skin.
He snaked his hand beneath Gun’s shirt and ran it along his side, down his back. His fingertips felt like they were on fire and Gun must have felt the spark too because he made a desperate, whiny noise at the back of his throat and kissed Tinn harder. Tinn’s hips thrust up on instinct and he hadn’t known just how fast he could go from “horny but managing it” to “horny but not managing it at all.” He was just about to pull away and tell Gun he needed to take a break when the sound of a door opening ended things for him.
They broke apart and looked at each other, both unsure whether they’d heard anything at all. Then came the voices.
“I can’t believe the show got canceled,” Tinn’s dad called from the next room, comically loud. “And here we are—home two hours early.”
“Why are you yelling?” Tinn’s mom asked. Tinn knew. Gun apparently did too because he sprang off of him and settled instead on the other side of the couch, cursing under his breath as he straightened himself in his pants.
Tinn was so dazed that it wasn’t until Gun hissed his name that he was able to shake himself from his stupor and sit up as well. Then his parents walked in.
For a second, he thought they might have gotten away with it, but then he looked over at Gun—bright red, hair a mess, lips swollen from kissing—and he imagined that he looked much the same. He turned back at his parents. His dad was wearing a very obvious grimace and his mom was stone-faced.
“I need wine,” his mom muttered and then left the room without another word.
“Dad,” Tinn whined as soon as she was gone. “Why didn’t you text me?”
“I did!” his dad insisted as if he was the one who had been caught in the midst of wrongdoing. Tinn fished his phone out of his pocket and saw a string of increasingly frantic texts from his father that he had been too distracted to notice. His dad sat down on the couch between them and clapped both Tinn and Gun on the knee, making Gun jump. “Your mom probably expects me to talk to you.”
“Oh, no, Dad, you really don’t have to—”
“I actually just finished watching an online special about safe sex for gay men,” he added, completely ignoring his son, “so I’m very well-prepared. Oh! That reminds me.” He pulled out his wallet and handed Tinn a condom that had been stored inside. Tinn took it before knowing what it was and then recoiled once he realized what was in his hand. “I always carry one with me. We don’t want any more little Tinns running around, do we?”
Tinn looked over at Gun in horror, but found that Gun was laughing.
“Dad, we aren’t having sex,” Tinn assured him. They weren’t doing anything more than kissing. “You really don’t need to—”
“We should go tomorrow and buy you some of your own,” his dad continued, either very oblivious or very determined to keep up the bit. “Do you know what size you wear? They’re supposed to fit snug.”
“Oh my god,” Tinn muttered, his face flaming, but it seemed that his father still wasn’t done.
“What about you, Gun? You want us to pick you up some while we’re there?”
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary, Sir,” Gun said through his laughter. “If Tinn touches me again after this, it’ll be a miracle.”
Tinn’s dad was quiet for only a second before letting out a great booming laugh and clapping Gun on the shoulder. “Then my work here is done,” he said, standing. “I’m just messing with you boys. Let me go find your mom. Make sure she hasn’t drowned herself in a bottle of Cabernet.”
As soon as he was out of ear shot, Tinn moved to the other side of the couch and collapsed onto Gun’s shoulder, trying to hide his embarrassment.
“You’re okay,” Gun reassured him.
“I am not. I’m dying.”
“You’re not dying,” Gun said, rubbing his back soothingly. They stayed like that for a few seconds before Gun added, almost as an afterthought, “I already have condoms.”
Tinn sat up carefully, unsure where this conversation was going. “My mom bought them for us. I told her we didn’t need them yet, but, yeah…I have them whenever we do.”
“Oh,” Tinn said, unsure exactly what he was feeling. His heart had started racing and it wasn’t that he was scared or nervous, it was just that he hadn’t thought they were there yet and he was both intrigued and terrified to discover that maybe Gun did. He had just opened his mouth to ask some follow-up questions when his parents walked back into the room.
“Gun, honey,” his mom said, a glass of red wine in hand. “You should probably get going. I don’t want you on the road after midnight. But come back on Sunday for lunch, okay? And bring your mom. I haven’t seen her in a while.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Gun agreed, standing. He bent down and kissed Tinn on the top of his head. “See you tomorrow.” Then he left, leaving Tinn alone with his thoughts.
5.
Chinzhilla was just finishing up their first set and Tinn was enraptured. Tiw had decided to throw a graduation party at his house while his parents were out of town and nearly the whole senior class was there talking, laughing, and enjoying the music. A couple girls were even making out on the sofa. Tinn had eyes only for Gun.
Usually his reaction to Gun’s singing was simple adoration, but now Gun was looking straight at him as he sang the song he’d written about first love and all Tinn could think about was how much he wanted to kiss him.
“I think I’m drunk,” he said to Tiw, having to yell to be heard over the music.
“Why?” Tiw yelled back.
“Because I want to eat him.”
Tiw snorted. “You’re not drunk, dude. You’re just horny.”
Was he? It wasn’t that he’d never wanted Gun in that way before—he’d lain awake many nights imagining what it might be like to make love to him—but he’d never wanted him so acutely while also knowing that if he asked, Gun might actually say yes.
Chinzhilla finished their set to uproarious applause. Gun thanked their listeners, announced a short break, and then walked straight to Tinn, grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and kissed him on the lips. He tasted like sweat, but he looked so happy that Tinn didn’t care.
“How’d we do?” Gun asked, pulling away but maintaining his hold on Tinn’s shirt.
“You were amazing!” Tinn started, but Tiw interrupted him.
“Good enough that he said he wants to eat you.”
Tinn smacked him on the arm, but Gun just laughed, loud and joyous. Then he leaned in and whispered in Tinn’s ear, a secret just for the two of them, “Do you want to get out of here?”
As soon as Tiw was distracted flirting with an ever-oblivious Por, Tinn and Gun made their escape, sneaking past the barrier Tiw had erected to keep people out of the breakable parts of the house, heading up the stairs, and finally stopping in the room Tinn was most familiar with: Tiw’s bedroom.
Gun was on him immediately, kissing him with an urgency Tinn had never tasted before. He led Tinn backwards and then pushed him down onto the bed before crawling on top of him, grinding against his body slow and sensual.
“You can’t—stare at me like that—while I’m singing,” he said between kisses.
“Like what?” Tinn asked, desperately trying to catch his breath.
Gun broke the kiss to look him in the eye as he said, “Like you want to fuck me.” It was only as he said it that Tinn realized he was right. That was what he was feeling. And he had no idea where it had come from. He had half a mind to apologize, but before he could, Gun kissed him again and again until Tinn started to feel trapped within the confines of his own body. He wanted, but he didn’t know how to take. Luckily, it seemed that Gun knew how to offer.
He took Tinn’s hand and slipped it beneath the fabric of his own shirt. Tinn traced the line of his abs, relishing the way the muscles clenched as he touched, but touching wasn’t enough. Tinn wanted to consume. He broke the kiss to slip Gun's shirt over his head. Gun parted with it easily.
They resumed their kissing and the next thing Tinn knew, Gun was fiddling with the buttons on the front of his pants. Tinn looked down in surprise as if he might have somehow misinterpreted what Gun was trying to do, but he hadn’t. Gun undid the top button as Tinn watched.
“Is this okay?” Gun asked, sliding his hand down to palm Tinn over the fabric of his jeans. It was the first time Gun had touched him like that and it felt so good that it took him a second to remember that he had to answer.
“Yes, it’s very okay,” he said on an exhale and was surprised to find that it was the truth. In his head, this moment had always seemed so scary, but his anxiety had lessened in the presence of Gun. It was impossible to be nervous around him. All Tinn felt was love.
Gun finally got his pants unfastened and slipped his hand inside, finally touching skin.
That’s when the door opened.
“Oh, god. Seriously?” Tiw cried. Tinn and Gun sprang apart, Tinn working to get his pants fastened and Gun shrugging back into his discarded shirt, but there was no hiding what they had been doing. “In my bed? I can’t even remember the last time I washed those sheets.”
“Sorry,” Gun mumbled, properly scolded, but Tinn had been friends with Tiw for too long to feel chastised.
“Did you need something or can we get dressed in peace?”
Tiw rolled his eyes. “They need Gun downstairs for the second set.”
“Shit,” Gun cursed, climbing off the bed and heading for the door.
“Your shirt’s on backwards,” Tiw called after him. “And if you’re wondering if anyone can tell, the answer’s yes.”
Gun looked down at his crotch, a noticeable bulge visible in the front of his pants, and cursed again before stomping off down the hall. Tiw shut the door behind him.
“Dude,” Tiw said once they were alone, crossing the room to shake Tinn by the shoulders in a gesture that seemed like it was meant to be some sort of congratulations. “Get you some.”
“I was trying.”
“I didn’t know you had gotten that far. So which is it: TinnGun or GunTinn?”
Tinn glared at him. Sure, the question was inappropriate and intrusive, but that’s not the part that bothered him. What bothered him was that he still didn’t know the answer himself.
+1.
Both of their families had tried to talk them out of it. Their friends thought they were tempting fate so early in their relationship. But Tinn couldn’t imagine starting college without Gun by his side. Literally. The apartment they’d found was small but nice with two bedrooms—although Tinn imagined they would probably only ever use one. He didn’t plan to fall asleep a single night without Gun by his side. Because otherwise, what was the point? Still, they humored their parents’ wishes even though they had to know it was a farce.
Move-in day was chaotic with Gun and his mom working on one side of the apartment while Tinn and his parents worked on the other, but eventually, even Tinn’s mom couldn’t find anything else to organize.
“Well, I guess then maybe we should leave?” she said, looking at her husband as if he might correct her. Instead, he just nodded sagely.
“It’s time.”
All of the parents were a teary-eyed mess, but after a good ten minutes of goodbyes, they left. As soon as the door shut behind them, Tinn and Gun looked at each other and simultaneously cracked matching smiles. Tinn was so excited to live with Gun. To wake up next to him each morning and fall asleep next to him each night. To drop him off at his classes and tell him about his day over dinner. But there was also a small ball of anxiety building in his gut. A ball that had been getting bigger over the past few weeks as they grew closer and their relationship started to deepen. A question: What would Gun want to do now that they were finally alone?
“Come on,” Gun said, taking his hand. “Let’s see whose bed is more comfortable.”
He dragged him down the hall into the room that had arbitrarily been assigned to Tinn and then jumped on the bed, rolling around like he was making snow angels.
“Oh, wow. It’s definitely yours,” he said. Tinn climbed onto the bed with him and lay on his stomach so that he could look down at Gun’s beautiful face. This was his life now and an emotion he couldn’t quite name was bubbling up inside of him. He was so goddamn happy he didn’t know what to do. It was just them, together, against the world.
“I love you,” he said.
Gun smiled brightly, reaching up to cup his face in both of his hands. “I love you too.” Then he pulled Tinn in for a kiss that was so devastatingly soft, it felt like his heart might crack open. It was the perfect first kiss in their perfect first apartment, but as Gun moved to deepen the kiss, that ball of anxiety returned. Tinn broke away with a sigh. He needed to do this now. Before his nerves started to fester.
“Gun?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m not ready to have sex yet.” Gun blinked, but his face showed no other sign of surprise. Tinn kept talking. “It’s not that I don’t want to—I do. Someday. It’s just that…Is it TinnGun or GunTinn, you know? Because I definitely don’t. And I keep watching these borderline pornographic instructional videos on how to have anal sex, but no matter how many times I watch them, it still looks painful and I’m still not entirely sure I understand how the prep works and—”
“Tinn,” Gun said, sitting up. “Slow down.”
But Tinn couldn’t. “I just love you so much and I don’t want to hurt you and I think I just need a little more time to research and process—”
“Tinn,” Gun stopped him again, taking his face into both of his hands and forcing him to look at him. His brown eyes were bright and so full of life. He smiled and immediately, Tinn’s worries drifted away. “I’m not ready either.”
For some reason, his words would not compute. “What?”
“I’m not ready for that either,” Gun repeated slowly, releasing Tinn’s face to take hold of his hands instead. “We’ve only been dating for a few months. I’m not in any rush. I thought we could start with, like, hand jobs or something. Work our way up to the other stuff when we’re ready. If we’re ready. We’ll figure it all out together.”
Tinn started laughing and he couldn’t stop. He buried his face in Gun’s neck and let him hold him. When he finally pulled away, Gun smiled fondly.
“How long have you been worried about this?”
Tinn shrugged. “I just didn’t want to let you down.”
Gun shook his head. “As if you could ever. Listen, I’m going to hop in the shower, but then we should go get dinner somewhere nice. My mom gave me money.”
Tinn nodded enthusiastically and watched as Gun walked from the room only to return a few seconds later, peeking his head back around the doorframe. “What? You’re not going to join me?”
Immediately, a vision came to him of Gun standing naked under a stream of steaming hot water as Tinn bathed him. And that he could do. “Okay,” he agreed, hopping off the bed with an ecstatic grin. It didn’t feel scary anymore. Not when Gun would be there, experiencing all of his firsts right alongside him.
“Okay,” Gun agreed. Then they headed down the hall to the bathroom they would share, kissing all the way.