Page 117 of Faking It Right
Harley lounged on the bed, with one arm tucked behind his head as he scrolled through his phone. He didn’t look up, but he had that little smile that meant he was amused by whatever fresh hell was happening in my head.
After dating for a month, I didn’t even think twice about walking around half-naked anymore, not even with him sprawled across the bed we now shared. Before we dated, I would’ve hidden in the bathroom until I was fully dressed. Now? Our relationship had mellowed into something comfortable. Too comfortable, maybe.
I lingered by the dresser, pretending to look for clothes while stealing glances at him. The soft glow from the bedside lamp caught the angles of his face. It highlighted his jawline in a waythat made my stomach trebuchet itself into my throat with such force that my composure was launched over the defensive walls of my dignity and directly into the moat of “Oh, fuck me, he’s so hot.”
“Are you planning on putting clothes on, or are you planning to drip all over the floor?” Harley asked without glancing up from his phone.
“I’m contemplating the merits of both options,” I replied, but didn’t move toward the dresser.
A specific thought had been playing on an endless loop in my head for days. We had settled into a pattern with sex. A very specific pattern where he always bottomed for me. At first, I’d been grateful for his patience as I navigated the unfamiliar territory of being with another man. But after a month, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was missing out on something important.
More importantly, it felt unfair. Unbalanced. Like I was taking without giving back in the same way.
I cleared my throat. “So, I’ve been thinking.”
Harley set his phone down to give me his full attention. “What’s on your mind, snookums?”
I shifted my weight, the damp towel barely hiding my shame. I was a grown man, but I couldn’t spit out a simple request to my boyfriend.
He raised an eyebrow at my obvious nervousness. “Okay, now I’m worried. What’s going on?”
“I want to bottom tonight,” I blurted out, heat flooding my cheeks.
Harley’s face froze in an expression of surprise, his mouth slightly open as he stared at me. Then his lips twitched, and despite his visible effort to maintain composure, he burst into laughter. “Are you joking right now?”
I huffed indignantly, crossing my arms over my chest. “No, I’m being serious. What’s so funny about that?”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Harley said, reining in his laughter as he sat up straighter. “Please continue. It’s just—your delivery was so…”
“So what?” I challenged.
“So you,” he finished, his eyes softening. “Like you were announcing you’ve decided to try a new breakfast cereal.”
I sighed, dropping my arms to my sides. “Well, excuse me for not having a sexy speech prepared. I thought direct communication was supposed to be good.”
“It is,” Harley assured me, patting the edge of the bed. “Come here.”
I hesitated before sitting down beside him, adjusting my towel to make sure it stayed in place. “It doesn’t seem fair that you always bottom. I mean, you’ve been amazing about everything, letting me set the pace and figure things out. But it feels one-sided, which bothers me. I don’t want you to think I’m not willing to try.”
The laughter in Harley’s eyes faded, replaced by a focused stillness. “You have my attention.”
“I know I’ve been worried about some stuff,” I continued, looking down at my hands. “And I’m sure I’m overthinkingeverything. But you’ve been so patient, and it matters to me you’re getting what you want, too.”
“What makes you think I’m not getting what I want?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe because relationships are supposed to be about give and take? And so far, it feels like I’ve been doing a lot of taking by only giving.”
“Ryker,” Harley said, reaching out to tilt my chin up so I’d look at him. “I’ve been having the time of my life with you. I haven’t been making some noble sacrifice.”
“But don’t you want to be on top sometimes?”
An amused smile bloomed on his face. “Are you asking if I want to top you because you think it’s what I want or because it’s what you want?”
I opened my mouth to answer, then closed it again. It was a fair question. “Both? I mean, I’m curious. And I want you to have everything you want. And I don’t want to be the guy who’s too insecure to try new things with his boyfriend. How bad can it be, right? That many gay men can’t be wrong.”
Harley studied me, his amusement softening into something more thoughtful. “We don’t have to change anything about what we’re doing. It’s perfectly okay if you never feel up to it.”
“I’m sure,” I said, straightening my shoulders as if preparing for battle rather than sex with my boyfriend. “I’ve been considering it for a while now. I’m ready to face the final frontier.”
