Page 68 of Trick or Treat Nurse at My Feet
It hits me then, as his breathing deepens into sleep, that this feels different than any hookup or relationship I've had before. With Cher and the girls before her, I always had one foot out the door. Kept things casual, avoided the "where isthis going?" conversations, found excuses to break things off once they wanted more.
But watching Ethan sleep, his stupidly long eyelashes resting against his cheeks, I don't feel that usual itch to escape. I'm not planning exit strategies or thinking up excuses for why I can't hang out tomorrow.
Instead, I'm already wondering what he likes for breakfast and whether we could grab lunch between our classes next week. I'm falling for him, not just his body or the sex, but his smart-ass comments and the way he gets excited talking about hospital procedures that would make most people queasy.
Huh. Maybe I wasn't commitment-phobic before. Perhaps I just hadn't found someone worth committing to.
Chapter 17
Finding His Position
ETHAN
Sunlight pours through Tyler's half-closed blinds, making bright lines across his messy sheets and our tangled legs. It's been a week since our first time together, a week of getting to know each other in ways that make me blush just thinking about it.
We've spent almost every day together, sometimes just talking and studying, other times showing Tyler all the ways two men can pleasure each other.
Tracing lazy circles on Tyler's chest as he plays with my hair, both of us content in the drowsy aftermath of morning sex. It's Saturday, and neither of us has anywhere to be.
"Can I ask you something?" Tyler says, his voice still rough with sleep.
"Anything," Settling more comfortably against him feels like the most natural thing in the world.
He's quiet for a moment, and I can practically hear him organizing his thoughts. "How did you know? That you were gay, I mean."
Tilting my head I look up at him. His expression is thoughtful, not troubled.
"I think I always knew," I tell him. "Even before I understood what it meant. I never had crushes on girls, only boys. By the time I was fourteen, I was pretty certain."
Tyler nods, absently running his fingers through my hair. "I had girlfriends. I liked them. I liked sex with them."
"But?" The word comes out gentle, encouraging
"But this feels... different. Better." He looks down at me, a small smile playing at his lips. "Not just the sex, though that's definitely better, but all of it. Being with you feels right in a way I can't really explain."
My chest flutters at his words. "So, how do you think of yourself now?"
"Bisexual, I guess?" He sounds uncertain. "But even that doesn't feel quite right."
"Labels are tricky. There's a whole rainbow of identities out there, and no one can tell you who you are. You might find one that fits perfectly, or you might not. That's okay too."
"Yeah," he agrees. "I never thought I'd be questioning this stuff at twenty-two."
My laugh is soft and kind. "There's no timeline for figuring yourself out."
He's quiet for another moment, his fingers still threading through my hair. Then, with a hint of hesitation in his voice, he asks, "What about bottoming? Does that make someone more gay?"
Propping myself up on my elbow, I look at him directly. His cheeks are flushed, but his eyes are curious, not embarrassed.
"No," my voice firm. "Being a top or a bottom or vers doesn't make you more or less gay. It's just about what feels good."
"So you prefer bottoming?" he asks.
"I do," I admit. "But that's just my preference. It doesn't have anything to do with how masculine I am or how gay I am. It's just what I enjoy."
Tyler nods, taking this in. "I've been wondering what it feels like. For you, I mean."
The hint of curiosity in his voice makes me smile. "If you want, we could try it. I've never topped before, but I'm okay with trying if you're curious. With most sexy-time things, I'd say if you're interested, try and see what you like."
