It caught Simon by surprise, how soon it happened. Maybe it shouldn't have, he'd reason later; maybe it was always like this, when you were dating someone you were actually attracted to. Maybe it was always like this, when you were dating someone you were already in love with.
Either way, the first time they were alone together—really alone—not kissing on the Ferris wheel with half the school watching, not at Waffle House or a movie with a group of their friends, but at Bram's house between the time school let out and the time his mom got off work—it didn't take long for them to end up on the couch.
Simon had always avoided situations like this before—alone in a living room with a girl, alone in his car with a girl, anywhere near the back row of a movie theater with a girl—and so it would always be a mystery to him how he could have ended up on a couch with Bram without being able to remember every step that had led them there. Any other time he could have ended up in a situation like this, he'd have found some excuse, made up some emergency so he could get away before things ever got anywhere near this far.
They'd started out in the kitchen, he knew that. An after-school snack, followed by a lot of kissing next to the counter, until the edge of the counter dug into his lower back, something he'd have cared about if he hadn't been focusing on his hands underneath Bram's shirt, Bram's muscles tensing and relaxing, tensing and relaxing again beneath the soft skin of his back.
Somehow they'd gone from there to here, and their shirts were both gone, Simon's hanging off the coffee table and Bram's nowhere in sight (so still in the kitchen, probably). Bram was on top of him, his warm weight the most incredible thing that had ever happened to Simon. He hadn't known it could be like this. He'd known boys were exciting, he'd known thinking about boys got him hard and got him off—he had, in fact, gotten off while thinking about Bram more than once, even when Bram had still been Blue—but he hadn't known it would be like this. He wanted Bram so much he could hardly stand it, was so hard he barely even cared that there was no way he could pretend he wasn't, no way Bram didn't know.
If Simon wasn't sure how they'd gotten to the couch, he also didn't know at what point he'd wrapped his legs around Bram's waist, bringing him even closer. If he wasn't certain when that had happened, or how they'd gotten there, he'd never forget the way it felt when Bram's hips pressed against his, and Simon realized he was hard, too. Then Bram's hips moved away, but before Simon could do anything, bring him back, he was pressing against Bram again, then rubbing against him, with purpose.
Simon hadn't known it could be like this, could feel like this. Hadn't known it was possible to want someone to touch you this much when they already were. Somehow, he'd known he was gay for four years without having a clue what he was missing, how different it actually was from anything he'd ever had before.
It had happened so fast. He hadn't even the time to even worry about sex until it was already happening.
"Wait," he said. "Bram—wait."
"What?" Bram looked confused, and more than a little stunned. Simon had seen kids looking like that after long make-out sessions in the cafeteria or the theater room. It had always seemed embarrassing to him before, but on Bram it was...a really good look. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No! No, it's just...if you keep going, I'm going to, uh. I'm going to, you know."
When Bram had been Blue, he'd run away when things got real. And he was here with Simon now, but ever since the Ferris wheel, Simon kept dreaming that he'd said or done something to make him leave again. It had just occurred to him that what was happening here was pretty real, too; it had occurred to him that he didn't think he could deal with it, if Bram bolted now.
Bram seemed to consider Simon's words for a moment, while Simon told himself he'd be cool with it if Bram wanted to slow things down. Then, instead of backing off, Bram leaned down and kissed Simon again, slow and long and sweet—then began to move his hips again, slowly at first but then faster and harder, until Simon came in his pants in a burst of heat. Bram kept going, panting next to Simon's ear, his breaths become shorter and shorter, until he stiffened and went still with a groan Simon would never, ever forget.
They lay there for a while, lazy kisses, careless touches. Bram didn't seem like he was going to run away, and so Simon said, "That was..."
He trailed off, and Bram said, "That was?"
"Wow," Simon said.
Bram's mom wasn't due home for another couple hours, so Simon probably should have expected it when the lazy kisses turned into more again, not too long after they'd started in the first place. But that took him by surprise, too.