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Friends since highschool, and now Roomates in college. You and Sebastian had been through thick and thin, high and low, bear hugs and bleeding noses alike. Being able to live with him, in his space, changed a small bit of that friendship.
It felt intimate, and it was a thin glaze over the line of platonic love, how much the difference was when you shared an apartment. Sharing clothes was common, of course, although it grew to be a regular occurrence. Band shirts, jeans, sweatpants, hoodies, emergency towels, fishnet gloves, rings, jewelry, and fashionable corsets (one occasion but it counts). On the exact opposite side of the spectrum, so was the occurrence of no-bra-days and just-boxer-days when classes ended, or shorts-under-massive-shirt-days.
His guitar was taken care of by both of you, and you ended up being taught (infodumped on) about the instrument without your permission (you found it endearing and ended up analysing any song that had a guitar in it for a month) and were sometimes pressured (begged and forced) to learn the string contraption that consequently hurt (mortally wounded) your fingers. You cleaned the fretboard when he was gone, and always hunted for his pick, because apparently they get lost extremely easily. He made you a necklace with one of his older picks on it, and a ring out of a spare low E string.
With shared space, came frequent touch, but nothing abhorrent at first. "Is it okay if I hold your hand?" Was how Sebastian braved the notion, which slowly faded into head leanings, chest laying, arm holding, and the (so very rare) times he'd sleep with his face tucked in the crux of your neck. It was fine. It didn't change how you saw him, he was your friend, someone you trusted, and loved. Loved, but not in anything past platonic.
As fresh adults do, they get curious, especially if one of said adults (you) have no prior experience (not including anything that was read or watched or seen or listened to), and felt squeamish at the thought of committing those actions with someone. Imagine a stranger holding you, learning your body, kissing you. You'd shudder at that.
Sebastian glanced sidelong when you went on a miniature rant about how ridiculous it sounded to you. How people described kissing or sex as some phenomenon that hit the limits of infinity when it came to pleasure, that it somehow fried your brain and stopped your thinking. Garbage, you thought, utter garbage, what nonsense. "I think it would take months before I felt comfortable enough to disrobe myself in front of someone." You stated. Sebastian shrugged, his hair untied and covering the side of his face, and partially obscuring his eyes.
"That's just because you're inexperienced." He turned his head towards you. It was no secret that he had a bit of experimentation in highschool, he was honest about it with you, but he wasn't loose, just experienced. And informed to the best of his ability.
You scoffed, "it sounds dumb, regardless."
His eyes traced the muscle of your neck, the necklace of his you had on, and upwards to your lips. You'd taken to using lip balms and lip oils recently, something about keeping them healthy. They shone nicely. "I could help with that." He blurted under his breath, but internally willed his heart to freeze when be realised he uttered that outloud. 'Shit', he thought, 'I fucked it up, I pushed it, damn it—' his fingers clench around his kneecaps.
You had frozen, your breathing hitched when you registered the offer. Impulse wanted you to say 'yes, absolutely.' But you took a moment to think. "What?" Unfortunately, thinking did nothing, because nothing wanted to think.
Sebastian hisses a breath in through his teeth. "I could help with that, the whole, no experience thing." He spoke a bit louder, as if the issue was that you simply couldn't hear him. "If — if you want to." He looks back up to you through the curtain of his hair.
"Sure." You say a little too quickly, before even you can register it, but just long enough to briefly panic. "It's not like it's going to make anything weird between," your throat felt dry, your heart is hammering irritatingly fast in your ribs, "us. Nothing weird. It doesn't have to be weird." You don't look at him. The wall needs to be painted, it's chipping in one corner.
He sits up a bit from his slouch, shifting a little closer to you. "You sure?" Surely the drop in your stomach is simply those butterflies people talk about. "Yeah." You shouldn't be so affected by just his eyes flitting over your face, and landing on your lips. You don't back away from him. He shifts a little nearer, his thigh brushes against yours. He leans closer to your face. "Can I kiss you?" Your heart beats so fast it feels like it's about to crash through the intercostal muscles of your ribcage and flop onto the couch, you choose to not give into the thought that maybe you're not quite ready for it, and elect to push through it.
"How does this work?" You blunder, "do we just smash our faces together, or?"
Sebastian chuckles airily, "no, good god, just close your eyes. We'll go on three." He says it so casually, like you aren't caught in the throws of some indefinable emotional tornado, why is your stomach warm? You nod, and close your eyes. His lips. Are warm. And soft. So, so soft. It short-circuits your thinking for a second and you think you forgot to breathe. You feel the sharp exhale from his nose, the tiny miniscule sound that comes from his throat. Then he pulls away. You open your eyes to see his grey ones warmly gazing into yours, sickeningly sweet.
"You okay?" He asks, seeing the slightest conflict on your face.
"It wasn't that bad. I still don't see why people make it out to be such a big deal."
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Despite having had a calm and mature discussion about it, you, in fact, avoided anything even remotely related to kissing for a week. It's not that you didn't like it, it just felt like a lot, and you didn't want to tackle that. You're fine. Sebastian begs to differ when he sees you cringe away at a two-second kiss scene in a movie.
"Are you okay —"
"I don't like how I feel." You blurt. He waits for you to continue, a little concerned, and hoping he didn't make you uncomfortable. "It's like the nice warm fluttering turns into sickness and I don't get it. But I don't hate it, I hate the feeling afterwards."
A little tense, and a bit worried, Seb places a hand on your shoulder. "Was it . . . Did you feel like you were supposed to?" You take a few moments. Did you?
"I don't know. I think it was impulsive? I didn't feel like I had to." His eyes hold onto yours as if you'd recline into a ball and roll away if he dared to blink.
"Are you uncomfortable with doing anything related to that?" You shook your head. "It's just the uncertainty that makes it difficult to stomach?" You nod. Sebastian sighs. "Do you want to continue with that stuff?" He's censoring himself, you noticed, usually he doesn't circle around topics. How kind.
"I think so." You say, a little calmer, and feeling a weight off your shoulders.
"Please, talk to me, when you feel any way that isn't comfortable. I don't want you feeling weird, again." There's a little tremor in his voice, and you internally hold yourself to that promise if it means not making him feel guilty like that again.
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You asked Sebastian to try kissing again, he confirmed with you, multiple times, that it was because you wanted to, and not any other reason. This time, you're facing each other on the couch, and one of his hands holds your chin like glass. His hair is tied back this time, a noticeable smoothness to his lips.
"Maybe, instead of me just giving you a three second peck, we try and take it slower. Yeah?" He spoke with a tug at the corner of his mouth, his thumb absentmindedly moving just under your bottom lip. Sebastian dips down, his nose brushing against yours, a mellowed and calm length of eye contact. "Are you okay with that?"
"I'm okay with this." You affirmed, evaluating how you felt at every step. So far you were fine. "Good, good." He breathed in, you copied his method of relaxing. "Close your eyes." You oblige. "Tilt your head to the right a little bit." You shift. He lifts your chin, and you feel his lips on yours again, soft, warm, gentle.
It does melt your brain.
God, it shouldn't be this exhilarating. You shakily exhaled after a few seconds, heart caught up in your lungs and halting your breathing. His index finger momentarily retracts, but then it and the rest of of hand cradles your cheek as he shifts, kissing you a bit deeper, and separates. Your breaths mingle, and he mumbles into your lips, "see that, you're a natural." Sebastian joked. His other hand cups your cheek, and he kisses you again.
And again.
And again.
Are kisses supposed to work you up this much? You reach a hand up to his face, sliding your fingers into his hair, and he sighs into you. Eventually, you two fully pull away from each other. Sebastian's face is lit up with a hue of rose on his cheeks. "B+. Good job, for a novice, of course."
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"Could you try touching my waist?"
Lingering touches, new skin to feel, but not yet see. You don't think you're ready for that yet. "Seb?" He's been patient, he's been mindful. "Could you?" Could he, absolutely.
You asked him to kiss, even bite at your neck, and he happily did so. He would kiss your lips, and pepper kisses down your jaw, neck, and shoulders.
You'd ask him on a whim if he'd play with your breasts. Needless to say, he spent the afternoon with you in his lap instead of his guitar, back facing his chest, with his hands under your shirt. He purred light praises into your ears that entire day, and left a trail of lovebites along the side of your neck.
You tried french-kissing, and you damn near folded for him. He groaned softly into your mouth, and his hands would trail down your cheeks, neck, and shoulders, looking for something to ground him.
He went down on you. "C'mon, doll, I need you to tell me what you want me to do, here." His calloused hands held your thighs apart, you could feel the strength in his fingers. "Make some noise for me?" You weren't aware a tongue piercing could do so much, or two fingers, for that matter. "Does that feel good for you, sweet thing?"
The day that stuck out to you was probably the day he let you see his cock. He was sat on the edge of his bed, you were on your knees in front of him, nervous. You tried not to dawdle while unbuckling his belt, and unzipping his fly, but the view of the hem of his boxers made you hesitate for a second. He, observant that he was, caught onto that. "Take your time. There's no rush." Sebastian assured you, the same low, hushed tone he'd been using for the past few weeks to keep you comfortable during all of this. He waited for you. A hand reached down to cup your cheek.
Tentatively, you hook your fingers under the elastic and begin to pull them down. While you were completely knowledgeable of what one looks like, seeing it in person shocked your system, oddly. Sebastian chuckles above you, "easy, doll, it won't bite. If anything, I'm hoping you don't." It was half hard, and you supposed it was bigger than average. . .
He's shaven. That's nice of him.
Sensing your trepidation, he wraps a few fingers at the base of his dick, squeezing them together just a little bit, and giving himself a few pumps. He hissed in a shuddering breath, "why don't you try and copy what I'm doing, here?" He suggested, gently taking your hand and guiding it to him, allowing you a moment to deny if you wanted, but you don't. Sebastian wraps your fingers around his shaft, and gently moves your hand. You can feel it throbbing, growing harder, in the very palms of your hand.
"Good job, good job." He purred, retracting his hand and letting you take the reins. You tried to keep it at the same relative pace he did, using his sighs and groans as guides. You move yourself a bit closer, eyeing the head of his cock, and the bead of precum produced from it. Curious, you leaned forward, and cautiously licked the underside upwards. Sebastian chokes on his breath, and you nearly apologize, but he stops you, "how about we start at the bottom instead of torturing me like that, yeah? Yeah, I think that's a brilliant idea."
He pries your hand from its task, and drags your chin closer, "try and lick from the bottom, and back up." You take his suggestion, a languid lap up the underside of his shaft, he huffs above you, "that's it, that's it, a lot of guys should like that. If they say they don't, then they're a liar." You laugh shortly, and move to do the same along the sides, when you look up into Sebastian's eyes, you see a myriad of emotions: pride overshadowing them, lust, gentleness, and just a dash of want. "Good job," he breathes in between uneven huffs, "now you can try, carefully, teasing the head. Carefully. Do not kill me."
You, carefully, circle the head of his cock with your tongue. His precum is salty, but you supposed you could handle that. Feeling brave, you took just the head into your mouth. Sebastian appears to short-circuit; his jaw slacks and his mouth fell open, "fucking hell, E, warn a guy before you jumpstart his nervous system." Your chuckle is muffled by what weighs down on your tongue. His hand threads into your hair, "but since you want to do that, how about we test your limit a bit?" Heat pools in your stomach, he's been gentle up until now, this brief display of something other than that is . . .
Well, it's certainly nice.
You hum a muffled, "yes." His hand in your hair feels nice, you hope he'll do that more. Hearing your enthusiastic confirmation, he lifts your chin with his other hand, "relax your jaw for me, darling." You let the muscles go lax, "and your throat," he says, so you try to best to let everything go lackluster. "Breathe in, and use your lips to cover your teeth." You do so, and he slowly pushed himself in your mouth, but stopped as soon as he felt you nearly gagging. "There you go, good job, great job, you're doing so well for me." He very gently bucked into your mouth, a weighted sigh leaving what sounded like the depths of his lungs.
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Then came the day, or rather the night, that you had asked him about having sex. Together. "I— E, are you sure?"
Bewildered in the darkness, Sebastian asked you as he bolted up from bed. "You want to go all the way?"
You breathe in.
"Yes. Yes, I think — I feel — that I would like to do that . . . With you."
Silence.
"I'd . . . Of course. I'd love to."
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Luckily, a few nights later, someone in the dorms decided an in-house party was called for, so everyone was in the lounging area downstairs, music shook the building, it was perfect timing.
You were in the bathroom, trying on a new pair of underwear for the occasion. Red felt too cliche and overdone, so, you bought blue. The bra had a V shape, and slightly pushed up your breasts, with a lacy trim and a bow in the middle. Your underwear, a little less material than you were used to, was a matching shade of blue with bows on your hips, and the same lacy trim. A wave of eustress hitting you, you put on pajama's over the lingerie as a surprise for when Sebastian came back from his last minute outing.
He said he had to get condoms, and lube, just in case. You had just sat on your bed when he came in, shucking off his hoodie and tossing it on The Chair™ with a small plastic bag in his hand.
"And we are now properly prepared." He placed the packet on the bed, "did you shower already?" You nodded. "Alright, I'll try and be quick about mine." He had gone to get his own pair of sleep clothes out of his drawer, then stopped, "should I even bother to get dressed?"
You chuckled. "I've already seen you in just your boxers."
"Fair point, you shall see me in my towel."
He then disappeared into the bathroom. You took advantage of the noise of the shower to give a light spritz of perfume to your person. Sebastian really did make quick work of his shower, because he was out in ten minutes. Towel around his waist, chest on full glorious display. "You're still sure about this?" He asks, walking towards you, and gently lifting your head, "we don't have to, if you don't want to." You nod. Sebastian seems to shed some kind of restraint, because despite his initial softness, he switches and kisses you with less passive nature, it's a little rougher, he's already got both of his hands on your face, one hurrying to grasp the nape of your neck. His knee presses into the mattress, an inch away from the apex of your legs, "I'm going to make you feel," his kisses trail lower, down your jaw, and down your neck, "so, so good."
Open mouthed kisses plagued your skin, and soon turned to light bites and sucks, "I swear, you're going to enjoy this." He pushes you to lay down, your legs hang off the edge of the bed, he braces his hands on the sides of your head, his mouth still going lower while he murmurs against your flesh, "I'm going to make sure that someone down there, through the music, is going to hear you."
Sebastian moves to straddle your hips, sits up, and snakes his hands under the loose shirt you wear. "Did you put on perfume for me?" His fingers roam your abdomen, over the slight bumps of your ribs, and make contact with your bra. Just feeling the lace already had him pause.
"You are a cheeky thing, aren't you?"
His voice is slightly strained. "Fuck." He pulls the hem of the shirt up your torso, his eyes absorb every micrometre of new skin he's exposed to. "Oh, but you are beautiful."
A little impatient, you lift the shirt that small bit higher so he can see the underwear you spent time (damn near two hours in the store) picking out for him. He effectively stops breathing for a bit, shocked, his fingers lift your clothing a bit more, "creo que mi corazón dejó de latir." He mumbled. "You're going to kill me like this."
You tug the shirt off, and the loose hem of your pants drags down a bit, Sebastian's hands shake against your abdomen. He nips down your collarbone, and the valley on your chest, then down your stomach, lower, and lower still. He pulls off your pants, now a bundle on the floor along with your shirt, and simply stares up at you, his chin lying on the plush of your thighs. His kisses your legs while his thumbs loosen the two bows on your hips that held your underwear together, and it slid off of you, he happily took to licking at your clit, forcing a gasp from your lips, your eyes to shut.
"Una vista hermosa, he sido bendecida por ti. Gracias, por este regalo." He says between every few licks, you deeply regret not paying attention in highschool during Spanish. You piece together a few words, 'beautiful', 'thank you', but that's about it. He curls two fingers inside of your vulva, and you whine. "Hermosa voz. Sing a little louder for me?"
Your legs tense and untense when he switches for his tongue to rake along your insides, his thumb occupying where he had previously been licking, working so ruthlessly yet so lovingly to bring you undone, to break you sweetly. Sebastian groans whenever you let out a high pitched moan, seemingly grateful for every sound you make. Your throat constricts, and you choke on a mewl when he brings you to orgasm, your thighs a vice around his head, but he doesn't seem to mind. He laps up all the slick you give him, like a man dehydrated. He retracts, and there's still a sheen on his chin. "You did amazing, E." He rises, and trails his hands up to your bra, "lace looks really, really good on you. Did you pick this colour for me?"
One of his hands slips under your back, and unclasps the garment, sliding the straps down your shoulders.
You're wearing the necklace he gave you.
Sebastian unwinds the towel still on his hips, folds it over, and places it under your hips. Then he retrieves the box of condoms from the bag, opens it with his teeth, and rolls it on his shaft. For extra measure, he uses the bottle of lube to ensure that there should be no discomfort for you. His covered cock poked at your entrance.
"This shouldn't hurt too much, given the amount of precautions, but it still can. You need to tell me what you need. Okay?"
"Got it." You confirm. "Try not to rip me in half."
"Haha, ha, ha. Funny." He barely pushes in, taking one of your hands in his own, "don't joke about that." Sebastian is slow, halting at any sign of pain in your breathing, until he's finally fully sheathed in you. He lets out a whine when you experimentally clench around his length, bucking into you inadvertently, causing both of you to moan in unison. "Oh —"
"I feel full."
"You feel so fucking good, Ay dios mío." His pace is slow at first, of course it is, he's trying to be gentle, but the short jerks in his pace signal how badly he wants to speed it up, be rougher with you. "Talk to me, E."
"Faster, please." He obliges, clearly appreciative, "more" you ask, he provides. You whimper and whine, and it's not long before you reach your second orgasm for the night. Something tells you it won't be the last.
"That's it, be a good fuck for me, keep coming on my cock." He punctuates it with continuous bruising thrusts, "c'mon, you can be louder, I don't think they can hear you, yet." He brings your knees over his shoulders, and holds your thighs against his chest. "They'll love to hear you, E. If I did, they will too." His bedroom voice does nearly as much to you as his ministrations, it's strained, and it shakes a bit, but it has a hint of wavering gentleness, sometimes it drives his voice higher, sometimes it drives it a few octaves lower, and sometimes it cracked. But just hearing what was normally a calm and collected voice, break and crack and whine, it worked you up.
You came again. He laid you back down, his chest on yours, head in your neck, and voice in your ears, "you sound beautiful, Ev, are you going to come again?" It's like he's trying to tease you, but he sounds too wracked for that. "I'm glad you're feeling good, hey, you want to see something fun?" He braces a hand on your lower stomach, and pushes his palm down. As if the pleasure wasn't good enough, it went from 1 to 10 with just a small bit of pressure, lo and behold, you came undone again.
He started slowing down, and his rhythm broke, he panted against your neck. He must be close. "Seb." He limply lifts his head from your shoulder.
"Kiss me, when you —"
One hand desperately held your hair, and breathed into your mouth as he came. Muttering your name over and over, the same as you did for his. "Thank you, E."
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[Achievement Unlocked: The First Time] [With a chance of 5%, stumble on the First Time cutscene.]