Page 45 of Spread Your Wings
They finished getting undressed before climbing into Sammy’s bed. Mustafa’s skin pimpled from contact with the cool sheets.
“See?” He chuckled. “I need you to keep me warm.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Sammy said. “I don’t want you to go anywhere, either.”
“Well, as long as I don’t murder your ex, I will stay out of trouble. I signed up for citizenship classes, too.”
“I don’t mean stay in the US. I mean stay here, with me, in this apartment. Help me pick out furniture. Keep me company at night when it’s too hot to sleep.”
Mustafa brushed his lips over Sammy’s. “What are you saying?”
“Live with me. Sleep with me. Love me like I love you.”
“I do love you,” Mustafa said, rolling Sammy onto his back and straddling his legs. He pressed Sammy into the mattress as he possessed his mouth. Mustafa kissed him so thoroughly, he thought the conversation was over. Then, he said, “I love you enough to be more than a burden. I needed to find a job, register for school, and prove I could be a productive member of society before I felt worthy of you.”
“You didn’t need to do all that for me.”
Mustafa rested his forehead against Sammy’s. “I didn’t do it for you. I did it for me.”
“Does that mean you’ll stay?”
“As long as you’ll have me.”
“Forever,” Sammy promised.
Mustafa kissed him, and the world went dark as he closed his eyes and surrendered to sensation. He lifted his knees and wrapped his lower legs around Mustafa’s waist. “Fuck me.” He sang the chorus to the Queen song bearing his name.
“Only if you promise.”
“Promise?” Sammy reopened his eyes. Mustafa’s disapproving squint held no clues.
“Promise not to sing that song.”
Sammy laughed. “But it’s so?—”
“Campy. The word you are looking for is campy.”
“Where did you learn that?” Sammy asked, leaning up on his elbows so he could plant quick kisses on Mustafa’s neck between each word.
“The woman at your office today. I thought she was anti-Muslim until one of my coworkers explained. It means theatrical, over the top. She was more anti-Queen. All Queen songs are ‘campy.’”
Sammy couldn’t argue with that, so he kissed Mustafa soundly on the mouth. “I promise I won’t sing that song. Please, fuck me.”
“Condoms?”
Sammy pointed to the bookshelf next to the bed. He’d placed them on the nearest shelf, in plain sight, hoping for this moment. “Only until July fifteenth. Then, we can get tested again, and ditch the condoms if we’re both negative.”
Sammy sighed. Mustafa eased his knees to his chest and, using the lube next to the box of condoms, stretched and readied his hole. Sammy dropped his head to the pillow and lost himself as the burn gave way to pleasure.
“Please,” Sammy begged, his balls already tight with the need to come.
Mustafa grinned as he rolled the condom onto his cock. “You’re wrong about one thing.”
“Yeah?”
“I won’t fuck you. I’ll make love to you.” Mustafa resumed his position above Sammy. “Volim te. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Sammy said as Mustafa brushed the tip of his cock against Sammy’s entrance. “So much.”
