And through it all he was kissing Mark, little sips and nips among deep forays. Kissing had most certainly never been like this. This he could keep doing for hours. He loved the feel of Isaiah under him, loved Isaiah’s strong arms clutching him, loved the sounds Isaiah made. The moans and gasps and growls were awesome because they chased away any worries that maybe he wasn’t doing this right.
Rolling his hips, Isaiah moved so that his legs fell open. And okay, wow. Isaiah rocking against him was a whole new level of nice. Like dancing but lying down with a side bonus of more of that delicious kissing.
“Mmm.” Isaiah made a desperate noise, like he needed something only Mark could give, so Mark kissed him harder, following instincts he hadn’t been aware he had.
“Fuck. I’m close.” Isaiah’s head fell back, face looking tortured. “Can you get off this way or you need something more?”
Oh. Oh. Getting off. He’d been so wrapped up in the kissing that he hadn’t stopped to think about that. But of course, Isaiah would want that. And he was generous and giving and would want Mark to come too and would not want to hear about Mark’s weird hang-ups... Fuck. Mark struggled to sit up.
“Hey. Hey. It’s okay.” Isaiah sat up too, stroking Mark’s arms like he was a skittish dog, which honestly wasn’t that far from the truth. Mark had been here before and it never ended well. “We can totally keep making out. I’m good with that. Didn’t mean to pressure you or rush ahead.”
“You didn’t.” This was totally on Mark, letting things get out of hand. “Shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“Hey. I pretty much goaded you into it. And honestly, I think after the week we’ve had, we both needed it.” Isaiah kept up the gentle massage of Mark’s biceps. “This doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to. Just some stress relief.”
“I don’t do stress relief.” God, he envied people like Isaiah who could be so damn casual about sex. Six years and nothing had changed—Isaiah wanted a quick fuck, something to get out of his system, while Mark wanted...hell. He didn’t even know anymore. “Sex isn’t—I don’t know...it doesn’t work like that for me.”
“Do you not like it?” Isaiah’s head cocked to the side like he was considering Mark under a microscope. Not wanting that, Mark squirmed away from his touch. “I really didn’t mean to make you do something you’re not into. If you didn’t like the kissing—”
“I liked that.” Fuck. Why was this so hard to talk about? “A lot. It felt...amazing. Better than it has before.” His skin heated with that admission.
“With women you mean? Was that the first time with a guy?” Isaiah was still studying him carefully.
“No. I kissed a guy once. There was this friend at medic training. He wanted...” Mark drifted off. Maybe it would have been better if he’d never kissed Howie at all. Or Julie before him. Or that Rachel chick his friends tried to set him up with a few years back. Disasters. All of it. Isaiah was so much better than those other encounters and maybe he wouldn’t have all this tension if kissing had been like this all along. “I’ve kissed both. Never like that though. Never felt...so right.”
“How about we make it feel right some more?” Isaiah wrapped an arm around him. “We can just kiss until you feel like stopping. Nothing else. You’re in control.”
Ha. Mark had never felt less in control in his life. “That wouldn’t be fair to you.”
“Says who?” Isaiah’s eyebrows went up. “I fucking loved making out with you. Could have done that for hours more. You’re an amazing kisser. I’m sorry I fucked up and pressured you for more.”
God. Why did Isaiah have to be so nice?
“You’ll want...” Mark made a vague gesture with his hand.
“I’m not going to deny being turned-on as fuck. But I’m also not some horny kid anymore. Let me worry about me.”
Oh, if only it were that easy. Mark groaned. “People always want more. But my body...it doesn’t usually cooperate.”
Shame burned through him. He’d never confessed that aloud before.
“You mean you’re not turned on?” Isaiah still had that quizzical look on his face, the face that made Mark feel like a failed science experiment. “Or you mean, you have a hard time getting off?”
“Both.” This was possibly the most awkward conversation in the history of the world. But something about Isaiah had a way of making long-held secrets slip out. “I don’t know. I just—I’m not like other people about sex. It just doesn’t...work for me.”
“Like maybe you’re asexual?”
Mark nodded. It was only the second time another person had said the words, the first being a kind doctor Mark had seen. And he wasn’t surprised that Isaiah, what with his various degrees and advocacy work, knew the term. “Yeah. I—sex has never been easy for me. I even had a doctor test me for low testosterone, but he said that my hormones were fine and maybe I was just not a sexual guy. I did some reading about it after he said that it sounded like I could be asexual, and asexuality seemed to fit except for the part where I get strange crushes every few years and weird stuff turns me on.”