Kensin was radio silent the next two days after Artel's confession over lunch.
In that time, Artel was working, thinking of him. He'd laugh with his subordinates at lunch and think about him. He drove home and wondered if the younger man had eaten today. He laid in bed, freshly showered and wonder if he was lying in bed as well or up reading something obscure.
In honesty, Artel was not adjusting well to their separation. Which wasn't healthy but neither is cake or cigarettes. Kensin had been the breath of fresh air that he had become dependant on and not knowing if Artel would see the young man again was probably why the distance was so suffocating.
A simple alert at 10 pm the third day, on a number only one person knew had Artel up and looming over his phone, stomach bubbling with anticipation.
'Let's meet. Come over.'
Artel flew out the door and to his car in his boxer briefs and house slippers, a sharp contrast from his usually put together business attire. He desperately sped the 20 minute drive across town and parked outside a tall and familiar apartment building.
Kensin left the door unlocked and stood at the centre of the apartment, hands on his hips and blue eyes narrowed at him in distrust. Artel was just happy to see the man, and talk to him again.
'He must have ran some red lights. Reckless.'
Kensin flushed. He expected a little more time to prepare himself but Artel got to his apratment quicker than usual. He had been brooding over his confession and felt he could only rest unless they had a talk.
"I can't see any reason why you would want to have sex with me." The younger man blurted out. "Isn't it gross?"
"What is, Kensie?" Artel questioned nonchalantly. He had sauntered in and lounged on the sofa, facing Kensin.
"How two boys do it."
'Do it? Do what? Sex?' The older man's smirk returned.
"Well, it can be gross." He shrugged.
"I can't imagine wanting to stick my cock in someone's— someone's asshole…" Kensin confessed, cheeks flaring a deep pink.
He sounded like a virgin. Well, he was but Artel didn't know that. Unless that's what his stupid smiley-smirk was about.
"Well… even women like anal, Kensie. Besides two boys can do other things."
He gave him a suggestive wink and the younger man decided he had heard enough. Kensin wanted to leave, even if this was his home, he wanted to go somewhere and pretend this conversation never happened and that he was not curious.
But he was curious. So very, very very curious.
He was curious about what enticed Artel about him, what he wanted to do and why he wanted to do it, why it had to be him. Most importantly, did Artel want to do those things with anyone else…
"I—… I want to know. But you— don't be weird and do too much."
Artel's mirth was obvious. The man's face lit up and readily pulled the young man by his belt loop to stand between his legs. He rested his chin against Kensin's torso.
'This was a nice angle.'
Kensin's eyelashes were very long, brushing against the apples of his cheeks as he looked down. His curly hair casted a shadow on his face that made him look edgier and made Artel's dick twitch.
"We don't have to do this right now."
"We can. Just… Just don't make fun of me."
"You know I'd never do that Kensie."
"You're more experienced than me, you might…"
"I promise. Things like this, intimacy, especially with you, you have my full sincerity."
The boy dropped his forehead onto the other's and he paused.
"I—… I can trust you, Art?"
They only knew each other two months. Kensin had never been in a relationship before but even he knew that this was too fast. But it felt too painful to just skirt around their attraction for the sake of 'taking things slow'.
The last two days were uncomfortable for the young man. He was used to Artel's company, whether physically or through text. Even anticipating their next meeting was an enticing part of his current routine.
It was untimately his decision on how fast they went. It was obvious Artel was going to wait for him. That was the only reason Kensin trusted him in his home.
"Everything you give me is sacred, Kensin Wicker. Your trust, your body, your heart. I would protect it with my life or die trying."
Kensin's restraint had snapped and he was quick to move, soft lips met the older man's own with a chaste peck then deepening into passionate kissing. Artel threaded his large hands through Kensin's hair, holding him in place as he forced his dominance over him, kissing him with a ferocity that conveyed his hunger. The young man moaned softly, pressing his body impossibly close.
Kissing had never felt like this for Kensin. He had kissed before and it gave him butterflies but kissing never made him want to ravish and devour his partner. It felt primitive and raw. Sexy.
Artel paused, allowing him to take a breath. He placed his hand against the back of Kensin's slender neck, gripping softly and rested his forehead against his.
"So? How was kissing boys?"
"I wasn't kissing boys, I was kissing you. And it was good."
"How good?"
The older man was silenced by a series of more kisses. After making out for a while, Kensin had melted onto Artel's lap. His eyes glazed over and unfocused, lips slightly swollen red and hair noticeably a mess was a sight Artel kept stored at the forefront of his brain and stirred his obsession every time he imagined it.
Artel, the gentleman that he was, carried Kensin to his bed where the latter fell asleep while they cuddled. He then tucked Kensin into a cocoon of blankets before the other moved to the bathroom to wank then sleep on the couch.
Today had only been the beginning. There was so much left that Artel wanted to try with the young man and the end result had prompted him to take his time. He wondered if his Angel wanted to start exercising, for stamina's sake.