Art in Motion

He didn’t hang out in my crowd, but I swear every time I’d turn around he’d be right there. It was as if he’d follow me around, though, I know he wasn’t, he was just always there. I knew his name, how could I not, but he never talked to me, but he was there. It’s odd how I found that comforting even though we never spoke and he barely acknowledged my existence. But he was there and I guess you could say I’d grown to have a crush on him. I heard him speak in class and I was sure there was more to him than what he appeared to be. I guess, in short, he fascinated me.

I’ve always been he semi-quiet one who has always been the ‘good boy’ and was often used in comparisons like ‘why can’t you be more like Jeremiah’ or ‘Jeremiah has done excellent homework, you should all follow his lead.’ Frankly, sometimes, it was quite annoying and embarrassing, especially in those classes where he was there. He always sat in the back corner, surrounded by his friends who all, in one way or another, resembled him. He was a junior, or at least I thought he was, and it was only because I was one of the advanced students for my year that I was in any of the same classes. I always dreaded and looked forward to those classes because I got to see him and occasionally hear him speak like the educated person he tried to hide that he was. I’d see him outside of class, but he always acted like a drunk idiot, I think he was just trying to fit in with his friends, but the truth of the matter was that he was just far above them that he’d never really fit. But at the same time, he’d never fit with my crowd either. He just stood out, no matter who he was around or where he was, he just stood out and it was obvious he didn’t belong. He was special. He was Matt Lovato.

It was halfway through the semester when the professor of our Psychology of Personality class decided he was fed up with not knowing who everyone was and where they were sitting, so he decided to give us assigned seats. I knew that with my luck I’d end up on the opposite corner of the room as Matt, and I’d be okay with that if it meant he was in the front corner and I was in the back so that I could watch him, without being obvious. I was right and Professor Stegan put me far away from him, but he knew of Matt and put him in the front row, center, and I was in the back corner. It provided hours of fun and distraction when I didn’t want to be paying attention in class. My parents would kill me if I failed, so I made sure to study extra hard outside of class so that my in class activities would be studying Matt.

It worked for a while, I studied him without being caught, until the one day that hadn’t been paying attention at all and Professor Stegan put us into assigned groups to work on a project. I was so intent on studying Matt that I didn’t hear the professor talk about the assignment, or the groups, or hear him put Matt and I in the same group. It wasn’t until Matt turned and looked at me that I realized I had missed something, and something important. I snapped my eyes to the front of the class, but it was already too late, I had been caught.

I was totally nervous and terrified, I’d missed the assignment, and Matt had caught me staring at him, and class was about to end. I tried, casually, to find out what it was I had missed, but no one had anything written down on their notebooks around me, and there was no way, without asking, for me to find out, and how do you go about doing that without letting everyone know that the ‘star student’ wasn’t paying attention? Class ended, and although I had been avoiding looking anywhere near Matt, I saw him making his way toward the back of the room, looking at me with an expression I couldn’t read. I was scared, the god of my idolatry was about to lay into me for staring at him, I just knew it. He nodded to me and I tried to play it cool and nod back, but I knew I looked like a fumbling idiot, and he was regarding me with the same type of wariness one has around a wild animal.

"You Jeremiah?"

I nodded and grabbed my bag as I stood and pulled it over my shoulder.

"Yeah…you’re Matt…"

Yep, I stated the obvious and felt like an even bigger idiot in the process of it too. I didn’t know what to do or say. I mean, I’m supposed to be the smart one, the one who is an excelled student and has had a 4.0 for the past semesters. Yep, I had no clue.

"You have free time to work on this project?"

I nodded and shrugged; still wishing I could find a hint as to what the project was somewhere in the room. It was Psychology of Personality, what the hell could it be a project on, finding out what kind of a personality you had?

"Yeah, I’m done for the day with classes, you?"

He nodded and checked the clock.

"Yeah, I got a few hours to waste, let’s go."

He turned and headed out of the classroom, and I followed. My eyes were scanning over his jeans and t-shirted body, though trying not to stare too much; he’d already caught me once.

"Uh, where are we going?"

He glanced over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows at me, there again was that look as if he were regarding a wild animal.

"My place."

"Oh, um…don’t we need the library for this?"

He stopped and turned to me, this time regarding me like he would an idiot, because that’s exactly what I was, an idiot who had no clue what the project was. I fidgeted under his look, wishing that it were a look of admiration, not ridiculousness.

"Weren’t you paying attention at all?"

I frowned and fidgeted again.

"Um…I…uh…no, I was…uh…distracted. I missed what the assignment is."

He laughed, stood there, and laughed at me, and I felt like a fool.

"No, we don’t need the library for this, well, at least not yet. Don’t you remember that questionnaire he handed out last class about who you know and are friends with in the class?"

I nodded, remembering that my paper was virtually blank, only one name had graced that page, and I only knew her because we had gone to the same high school, but we never spoke to each other anymore, we weren’t friends.

"Well, he used our answers to pair us up with someone we don’t know. We’re to spend time with that person, get to know them, and then after a month of doing that we’re to give each other personality tests and then analyze them. Then we have to hand in a report comparing and contrasting our findings with what we’ve learned about the other person in the month of getting to know them."

I stared at him in shock. This class was forcing me to spend a month with my crush, the god of my idolatry, the most beautiful man in the history of the world and I was a nervous wreck.

"A month? You have to hang out around me for a month?! Won’t I…cramp your style or something?"

He shrugged and smiled and started walking out of the building again, me following behind him a little uncertainly.

"Nah. I’ll be your little shadow, you’ll be mine, and we’ll hang out occasionally so that we can get good grades on this thing and that’ll be that. You don’t have to be all friend-like with my friends and everything, it’s just a project, but I do want a good grade on this."

He trailed off and I noticed that he looked like he was thinking. He glanced at me a few times before finally opening his mouth again to talk.

"I think he put me with you in hopes that you’ll rub off on me and be a good influence. He like, knows my parents or something and they are always trying to ‘straighten me out’ so I’m sure he told them about this project and they just begged for me to be put with the most outstanding example of a fine young man that could potentially rub off on me and make me a better person."

He shrugged and just continued walking while I tried to process all of this information. I mean, how does one recover from being paired with the love of their life for something this intimate and scheduled to last a month, and then have him only see it as something devised to make him a better person. I was looking forward to the month of getting to know him, and him getting to know me. I hoped by the end of the month that he would have a better opinion of me as I had every intent of letting him see who I really was. I just didn’t know if he would let me see who he really was. And on top of that I was gonna have to tell him I was gay, if he hadn’t already figured that one out.

We headed to one of the apartment buildings off campus and we made it to the top floor, yep, the ‘penthouse’ so to speak. I’d been to this building before, and was told that the top floor was always the party floor; I just never knew it was Matt who lived there. I’d heard about those parties and what they involved, and suddenly I wasn’t so happy about my crush and my pairing for this project. I wasn’t into getting smashed on alcohol or drugs, or anything else. I wasn’t into having sex with anyone at anytime, and I definitely wasn’t a wild party man. But when I stepped into his apartment I froze and looked around, it wasn’t the apartment of a partying man, it was the apartment of a conscientious, with punk/band flair, man, and there was art, true, honest to goodness art on his walls. I knew in that instant my heart was in trouble and I was about to slip away from the crush and fall head over heels in love with this man. He was truly fascinating and I wondered how he could live here in this beautiful place, and be who he was outside, and hang out with the friends that he did.

"You’ll have to excuse the place, it’s a bit of a wreck, my cousin was here last night having a party and he never cleans up well enough for my tastes. At least this time they didn’t destroy the furniture or any of my art."

He smiled his true Lovato smile and my heart melted. That was the missing piece, his cousin. It was his cousin who threw the parties the entire campus knew about, it was his cousin that had the drugs and alcohol, and it was his cousin who slept with anything that moved. It was the cousin the whole building talked about in hushed tones, not Matt. Matt was perfect. I looked around the apartment again and didn’t see anything that didn’t fit; it was all perfect Matt, the new Matt that I thought I had just met moments before, and my mind wandered to the question he answered without my need to even ask.

"I don’t have a roommate and its sometimes depressing to live alone so…"

He shrugged and motioned toward the corner of the apartment I hadn’t really looked at and I realized that it was a mini art studio and there were various paintings strewn around the area, all of which were very good. I nodded in appreciation.

"Matt, how is it that you live in this really nice apartment, are a phenomenal artist and all, and yet still hang out with the crowd you do and act the way you do? The two lives or aspects of you just don’t seem to fit together."

I figured that since we were supposed to spend the next month getting to know each other why not start right there. I looked from the pieces over to him and saw him standing there kinda uncomfortably. He leaned against the back of the couch and pulled himself up to sit on it. He licked his lips several times and ran his hand through his hair, and he shrugged.

"Well, actually, they’ve never been up here, they don’t know where I live actually. Most of the people in this building aren’t from the campus and don’t know that it’s me that lives here, they know of my cousin though, but they don’t know that this is actually where I live. I…I don’t just let anyone in here. I tend to pretend I’m someone I’m not, it kinda protects me. I mean, aside from my cousin’s parties, you’re the only person I’ve let in, and it’s because of this project. I figure I better let you see the real me so we can both do a good job."

He had just given me a huge admission right there and I knew I’d have to offer the same, or similar and I nodded, picking up one of the brushes next to his easel and twirling it in my fingers.

"I know what you mean; I tend to hide who I am too…"

I looked up at him and tried to decide what exactly to say and how to say it. I’d been at the college for two years almost, and no one knew the truth about me, and I’d been so alone, even with the few friends I had made, I was alone because I could never be completely open, I could never tell them the truth. And there I stood, knowing I’d have to tell Matt, and he only just met me. The only step further than that was to tell him I was in love with him, but that I couldn’t do, I’d start by telling him the truth.

"Matt, I…don’t flip on me or run out of here or tell the world or anything, but…I’m gay, and you’re the first person to know that here on campus."

I said it all quick and turned and looked away, terrified of seeing the expression on his face. It wasn’t as if I was a best friend coming out to him or anything, I’d been out for years, just, not here on campus because that was something personal, and I wasn’t there to find a boyfriend, even if it would be nice. I was there for an education, and I planned to get one without the interruptions that being gay would cause, because I knew there were some anti-gay groups on campus. I just didn’t want to deal with it while I was learning. But that all ended when I saw Matt, and then I told him the truth. That’s how things should start though, right? Out in the open. Right.

"Really? Cool, maybe I'll have to convince you to be my model sometime."

I turned around and looked at him with raised eyebrows. I was shocked that he was cool with it, I mean, why would he be, right? All my old friends who knew got all freaked out on me because they thought I was checking them out all the time, which was totally not the case at all, but hey, they had believed it, and in Matt's case, it was the truth. But he shrugged it off and we ended up spending the rest of the afternoon together, talking and getting to know each other. We discovered all the similarities we had, liking the same music even and I was falling harder and harder for him, but there was the one issue, he'd never said anything about his sexuality. I just assumed that he was straight, I mean, that was the safe thing to assume, and I tried to back off my crush on him.

That was the start of us getting to know each other, and for the following month we spent more and more time together, becoming closer and closer. He even introduced me to his group of friends, and even though I was one of the 'smart kids' they accepted me without question, I was, after all, a friend of Matt's. I dreaded the end of the month because I feared he'd just drop me because he didn't have to spend time with me then. But the further into the month we got, the less it seemed either of us wanted to be without the other for too long and we found ourselves crashing at each other's places. I learned that he was actually one of the advanced students like me, and I realized that he just hung out with juniors, but that he was a sophomore. He just didn't let a lot of people realize that because he didn't want them to know him as an advanced student, it hurt his image. As important as his image was to him, so were his grades, and shockingly he was adamant about doing his homework and getting good grades, in many ways more adamant about it than I was.

We did our homework together, sometimes talking, sometimes just sitting in the same room, it was comfortable, and to me, it felt right, perfect, and I wished that I could kiss him so many times. I had to keep myself from thinking about it though, because the more I thought about kissing him, the more I wanted to, and the worse it would be for whatever friendship was starting between us. I wanted him to become my best friend, but even more I wanted him to become my boyfriend, but I just couldn't tell him how I really felt.

The end of the month finally came around and I knew I was in love, and I couldn't tell him, because to him I was only a friend, perhaps a best friend, but still, only a friend. We administered the personality tests together, and then parted, him going to his apartment, me going to my dorm room, and we had to score and then analyze them. I spent two weeks analyzing his, comparing and contrasting my findings with my personal observations, and trying to hold back the tears that wanted to spill from my cheeks. Those two weeks were probably my hardest in college because I was away from Matt. I was trying to analyze and finish the project to the best of my ability, and that meant spending all my free time working on it. I'd finish all my other homework and immediately go back to the project. It was my only way of having him there constantly, because he couldn't be there otherwise, he had his own project to finish, his own friends to hang out with, and I figured that since the project was over that was the end of our friendship.

The day came to hand in the project and mine was perfect, everything was so very perfect. It was the last day of this class. Professor Stegan had some funky policy about no more classes after that project was handed in, which was really cool since we had spent so much time on that one thing. The problem was that the semester was almost over, and that meant we'd be going our separate ways and I didn't know what the next year would bring. I was gonna be staying around campus, working for the summer and taking some summer courses, I didn't know what he was doing, but I so wanted to ask, I wanted to talk to him, I wanted to hang out with him again, but I didn't have the guts.

Professor Stegan collected the projects and stacked them on his desk, his intent for that class to be discussion of the project. His first question I almost dreaded, but was glad after he asked it.

"How many of you, because of this project, made at least one new friend?"

I watched as just about everyone's hand went up, but it was Matt's hand that surprised me the most, it was the first one to go up out of the whole class and he turned and looked at me, smiling. As soon as I saw his hand and his smile I raised my hand too, not wanting him to think I didn't consider him a friend. I don't remember much of the rest of the class, but in the end, Matt waited for me before leaving, and we left together, heading back to his apartment. We spent hours talking and he asked me to crash there for the night. His friends were going out, and he really wasn't in the mood to go and I had no plans, so of course I accepted. That night was the beginning of something new for us as the last month of the semester started. I ended up spending five of the seven nights a week crashed at his apartment, often sleeping in the extra bedroom he had. His cousin, Tony, stopped coming over and having his wild parties and it ended up just being Matt and me, and I was content.

It was a week before the end of the semester when Matt dropped a suggestion on me that would ultimately change everything, even though we didn't know it at the time. He offered me his extra bedroom as my own, his apartment as my home, and shortly thereafter we moved all my stuff into his apartment and we were living together. We'd stepped beyond the bounds of friends and become best friends. I still had that nagging urge to tell him that I felt so much more for him, but never had I heard him utter a single thing about being interested in any guys. I had heard him speak about a few women with admiration, but never guys. I could never tell if Matt was straight or bi, but I felt that from everything it was obvious he wasn't gay. Sometimes that hurt and I'd find myself locking myself in my room with him standing outside the door asking what was wrong and wondering why I wouldn't let him in. I came to let him believe that I just got bouts of depression and that it wasn't anything for him to worry about, but that occasionally I just needed to curl up in my room and cry. He accepted that, for a while.

The semester ended and the summer began and I started my job and was working full time while Matt had a different job and worked part time. I offered to help pay for the rent as I felt bad living there and not paying, and he accepted. Things went well for a while and I managed to smother the urge to kiss him almost completely and we were just friends. Then one Friday night he made good on his suggestion from that first day we’d met, he asked me to model for him. Tony had tried to get us to go out to a party, but we had declined, stating exhaustion from a week of working as our excuse, when I wasn’t all that tired, but I wouldn’t go if Matt wouldn’t. We’d had a quiet dinner, barely speaking to each other until the end when he said he was going to work on a new piece and wondered if I’d be interested in being his model. He was almost shy in asking it, and I felt myself blush, but I accepted the suggestion and we cleaned up from dinner. I was nervous, and I’m sure he could tell. I didn’t know if he planned on having me fully clothed, half-naked, or naked, it didn’t really matter, he’d be staring at me for hours drawing me.

He led me over into his art corner and stood considering me for a few moments, but it was the critical eye of an artist, not the admiring eye of a lover, or even objective eye of a friend. He thought for a long time, his eyes just grazing over my body and glancing around the room before he smiled and nodded to himself as he made his decision. He started moving furniture around until he had a comfy, yet very masculine couch in his view and perfectly situated to the lighting he wanted. He then turned to me with a smile and again regarded me with a critical eye.

"How comfortable are you with doing this?"

I blinked and shrugged, not sure if he was asking me if I was comfortable enough to strip naked for him, or if I was comfortable enough to be in one position for hours of him staring at me. I licked my lips and managed a halfhearted laugh.

"As comfortable as you need me to be?"

He smiled and nodded and I knew I had answered in the best way possible for him and his artistic ability. He moved around the room and closed all the blinds and made sure the door was locked. I started worrying that I was going to have to strip right there in front of him, my best friend, and the one man to take my heart without ever even knowing it. He turned down the lights in the rest of the apartment and moved over to the stereo, putting in a Bach CD that I knew he listened to when he worked, it was just soothing. I found the music soothing me too, as I stood there looking completely dumb and not knowing what to do. He smiled as he returned to my side and my eyes continued their wary study of him.

"Are you sure you’re comfortable with this? You don’t have to do it if you don’t want Jere."

I smiled nervously but nodded my head.

"I know. But, I do, I want to. Just…tell me what you want me to do."

He smiled and nodded; his eyes flicking over me again as he took me by the wrist and led me toward the couch. He stopped and frowned before nodding to himself again, I could tell he was having an internal conversation with himself and he’d just made a decision.

"The human body is a beautiful thing…um…Jere, do you think you’d be okay…uh…without a shirt on?"

I shrugged, that wasn’t asking too much. I’d been shirtless around millions of people, okay, maybe not millions, but I was okay with being shirtless in front of him, I'd done it before, and he’d seen me leaving the bathroom after a shower without a shirt, so I could do it without a problem. I quickly removed my shirt and tossed it aside. His eyes on my body were still the critical eyes of an artist as he positioned me on the couch in a way that was comfortable, but would give him a good piece. He ended up having me cross my arms over my stomach, showing off my rather well defined arms and upper body, but hiding my stomach under my forearms. He had me perfectly position my head and school my features to fit what he wanted. It was a masculine pose, but with vulnerability, that was what he was going for with my arms crossed over my stomach, he wanted to show me masculine, yet vulnerable, and it was the truth, I was exactly that, but the vulnerability was to him and him alone. He moved over to his easel and picked up his pencil, looking at me intently for a few moments before getting up again and coming closer to me.

"Don’t freak, but your pants aren’t low enough on your hips."

He kinda smiled but didn’t give me a chance to move as he tugged my pants lower, pulling my boxers with them a little until my boxer band rested just above my hips, and the waistband of my pants just below them. My stomach was now only partially hidden and I had a vague thought of this being a vulnerable, yet sexy pose he’d put me in. He returned to his seat and started drawing, his eyes darting over my body and back to his canvas as he worked. I kept my face schooled, my body relaxed though in the position he desired, and I just let myself watch him as he worked, watched his body, his hand move, his eyes, his facial expressions. He was beautiful, and I thought he should have been the one being drawn not me, I wasn’t beautiful like him. I got so lost in time as he worked that I didn’t realize three hours had passed. I’d totally zoned out until he came and sat next to me on the couch with a smile and brought me back to myself as he touched my arm, sending shivers through my body.

"I’m done Jere…would you like to see?"

I nodded slowly as he seemed almost shy again, like he was scared of what I’d think when I saw how he portrayed me. He stood up and offered me his hand, helping me up after three hours of being in the same position. I didn’t walk gracefully with him; I stumbled and fell against him as I realized my legs were asleep. His arms went around my waist and he smile at me, a true, genuine Lovato smile, and my heart melted and my body shivered at his arms. It felt right, comfortable, perfect to have his arms around my waist, and again I found myself fighting the urge to just kiss him. He chuckled softly and led me around to the other side of the easel. My jaw dropped in awe at he beautiful piece of artwork that sat before me, I didn’t even think it looked like me. It was stunning and breathtaking, every detail of the couch, the curves of my body, the creases of my pants, the hairs on my head…everything. The difference was that the man on the canvas was beautiful, absolutely, glowingly beautiful, and I wasn’t.

"Do you like it?"

I nodded in awe, I did like it, I loved it, I just wished I really looked like that. The feeling of his arms around my waist came back to me, his body was pressed against my side, and he was watching me intently, now no longer the eyes of an artist, or the eyes of a friend, but the eyes of something I couldn’t place.

"I love it. But Matt…that’s not me. I don’t look like that."

I turned my head to look at him and his face was merely a foot away from my own, and the desire to kiss him again took me, and again I fought it. He smiled and I felt his breath on my bare shoulder and neck. I found myself biting my lower lip, trying to hold myself back from melting and confessing everything to him. He nodded his head.

"Yes, Jere, you do…that’s exactly how I see you…beautiful…"

He smiled again and angled his head as he moved in to kiss me. I waited, nervously, praying that it wasn’t a dream of my half-asleep body on that couch, still posed for him. He had to make the first move; I couldn’t do it, because what if he wasn’t really planning on kissing me? His lips touched mine and he pulled me a little closer, our lips barely moving against each other’s before he pulled back and I opened my eyes.

"I’m sorry Jere; I’ve wanted to do that for months…"

I stopped him by pulling him in and kissing him again, deeper, letting him know that I wanted it too. I shut out everything else, even thought, as my lips pressed to his and he turned my body ever so slightly so that we could press against each other. My arms went around his neck and we stood there for the heartbeat of an hour in each other’s arms, our lips pressed together as we breathed as one and lived as one. I finally pulled back and looked into his eyes, moving my hand to gently caress his cheek as I smiled.

"I wanted to do that for months too Matt, I just didn’t think you were…well, interested in guys like that."

I smiled shyly and felt his arms around my waist move so that his hands were rested on my sides and his fingers slowly moving in caressing motions against my skin. I felt my heartbeat quicken and my mouth go dry in desire to kiss him again. He smiled softly and his eyes traveled all over my face before he spoke.

"For the longest time I wasn’t Jere, and then I was, but wouldn’t admit it to anyone, let alone myself. And then came that day I met you. I caught you looking at me in class, and for the first time ever I felt really confident and desired around someone who I thought was attractive. Then you admitted to me that you were gay, but I wouldn’t let myself believe you could ever be interested in me, so I kept my knowledge and suspicions about myself secret from you, but I couldn’t get enough of you, and when you weren’t around, I missed you. I started to realize that there was a lot more going on than what I was letting myself admit, I was starting to fall for you Jeremiah, and every day since I’ve been falling harder and harder, deeper and deeper. I was terrified you wouldn’t feel the same, so I still didn’t say anything, but I couldn’t hold back anymore…I’m glad you wanted to kiss me too, but I don’t expect you to feel the same way about me as I do about you."

I pulled him in for another kiss, deeper, almost more desperate than the last. I wasn’t sure I’d get the words out to tell him I did feel the same, so I tried showing it with that kiss first before pulling back and looking into his eyes, my fingers tracing caressing lines along his cheek and neck.

"Matt, I…I fell for you the day you brought me here. I fell for you and I’ve continued falling for you since. You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever known, and you’re just…perfect. You were the day I first say you, and every day thereafter to the day I met you, and then you became even more perfect as I got to know you. I…I didn’t want to say anything because of our friendship, and because I didn’t know if you would laugh at me and run away…"

He smiled and shook his head before taking my hand and leading me to his bedroom. It had been a long time since I’d been with a guy and from what he had just admitted to me he had never been, so I was nervous, and confused as to why he was bringing me to his room. He dropped my hand and walked over to the corner where his bag was, and pulled out a notebook that he handed to me. I looked at him and then at the notebook, and back to him, confused as to why he was giving me his Psychology of Personality notebook, and why he hadn’t gotten rid of it already seeing as how that class had ended over a month and a half ago. He nodded to the notebook and sat down on his bed and I followed as I opened it. The first few months of notes were normal, but about a week into the month of our project I noticed doodles on the pages, and I noticed my name written over and over again. I looked up at him in shock and he just looked at me with a shy smile. I kept flipping and noticing the increase of times my name appeared, and the hearts that seemed to accompany it. The last page, from the last day of class, held no notes, just six simple words.

I’m in love with Jeremiah Rangel.

I stared at the words as if not comprehending at first before looking up at him, but he was looking down at the notebook in my hands. I smiled and had a sudden thought as I pulled the pen out of the wire binding of the notebook and wrote directly under his six words my own.

I’m in love with Matt Lovato.

I looked back up at him and he looked back up at me and we smiled at the same time, both shy, nervous smiles, but it wasn’t the smiles that mattered. Our hearts connected in that moment and we both knew the truth about each other, and it didn’t matter what anyone else would think or say, we loved each other, end of story. We spent the rest of that night in each other’s arms in his bed, just lying there together, talking and touching each other. It was the most beautiful night of my life, and that was saying a lot for me. He had removed his shirt to match my half-nakedness, but more importantly so that our skin could touch and move against each other’s. We talked, and ultimately fell asleep in each other’s arms, and I was truly happy.

It’s been a year since that night and I’m even more in love with Matt now than I was then and he is even more in love with me. I never moved out of his apartment, but I did move, I now sleep in his room with him, curled up in his arms every night. I’m sure anyone would think something is wrong with our relationship though. We live in the same apartment, sleep in the same bed, but we’ve never had sex. I know Matt hasn’t been ready, even though I have been. I’m not a virgin by any means. I mean, I had boyfriends back in high school and we didn't think about virginity and caring about who we gave it to, not back then, but I do now, and I wish I had waited so that Matt could be my first, just like I know I’ll be his. There is nothing wrong with our relationship though, I’m just waiting until we’re both ready, more importantly until he is. He has become something to me that I wasn’t even looking for here at college. He met my family, and they love him, and he’s introduced me to his as his boyfriend. I think it took his family by surprise, but he did it all the same, and they accepted him and me for what we are, and for the fact that we’re in love.

We've been together for a year and tonight I guess you could say is our anniversary. Well, it’s the anniversary of the first night we kissed, which in my mind is our anniversary because we never officially said that we were together on a specific date. We just were together after that night we kissed, we were a couple, there was just no particular date. We didn't plan anything for tonight, so I decided I'd take him out to dinner, maybe a movie, and end with a small gift I had bought him, but it was nothing compared to what I really wanted for tonight. But it wasn't an 'official' anniversary, so I didn't think I should go all the way with something that I'd planned for our first 'official' anniversary, not that our relationship wasn't worth going all out, a romantic getaway and everything that goes with it, but I wanted that for our first anniversary. Maybe we'd select a date for that to be sometime, but until then I'm happy with just time spent with him.

I open the front door to the same apartment we've been in together for a year and smile softly. All the lights are out, except for the one that lights the piece of artwork on the wall, the one piece that we treasure about everything else, that picture he drew of me the night we first kissed. I smile to myself again, again remembering that night as I close the door behind me. One year, its hard to believe that we've been together for one year sometimes, and other times it seems a lot longer, I just wish he was here when I got home, all I've been wanting to do all day is kiss him, and he isn't here. I sigh softly and close the door behind me, dropping my things next to the door and stretching slowly with a yawn. I feel two very strong arms wrap around my waist from behind and I just know that they're his.

"Welcome home Miah"

He kisses my neck and I lean back against him, loving the feel of his body against mine, the feeling I've been craving all day. I close my eyes and just rest against him. I love when he calls me that because he says it like 'my - ah' and it’s him laying claim to me. I love it when he lays claim to me, because I'm his, I have been for the past year, and I will be forever if he'll still want me.

“Mmm…there’s no place I’d rather be Matt…I’m glad I’m home.”

He turns me around and places a soft kiss on my lips, reaching behind him and locking the door before wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me tight against him. His lips go to my ear and he whispers softly to me.

“I have a surprise for you Miah.”

I smile brightly because Matt knows just how much I like surprises. I pull him in for another kiss, deeper this time, our lips and tongues moving together in a complicated dance we both know so well. In truth, the only person who has ever known the dance has been Matt, we invented it together. He breaks the kiss and smiles as he takes my hand and leads me through the apartment and into our bedroom. The lights are all off, but there are candles spread around the room, giving off a golden glow that is just enough to illuminate the room and lets me see the champagne and two glasses on the bedside table, several vases of roses around the room, and rose-petals on the bed. He slips his arms around me and whispers again into my ear.

“Happy Anniversary love.”

I never knew that he looked at our anniversary the same as I do and I smile, feeling more loved than I’ve ever felt before in my life, and that’s saying something because Matt just makes me always feel loved. I turn into him, kissing him softly and wrapping my arms around him as he does the same to me. The candles cast soft shadows across his face and make him look even more beautiful than he looks every other second of every day. He is breathtaking and I smile at how beautiful he really is.

“Happy Anniversary to you too Matt.”

He kisses me softly and quickly again before stepping away from me and going to grab the two champagne glasses, one of which he hands to me. We clink our glasses and with a smile he speaks.

“To us, and many more years together.”

He is so sweet sometimes and he takes me off guard. I beam back at him and nod as we both sip our champagne, looking into each other’s eyes. I smile as I lower the glass and glance around the room again, my eyes falling to the rose-petals on the bed and my heart skips a beat as the significance of that sinks in and my eyes raise to his. He’s been watching me and when my eyes come to rest on his again he nods, confirming the question that has formed in my mind and he immediately takes my glass from me and places the two of them on the dresser and turns back to me, taking me in his arms and whispering to me.

“Make love to me Miah, make me yours.”

I smile softly but swallow hard. This is the night I’ve waited a year for, the night Matt and I come together, the night I make him mine. But its even more than just that, because Matt has never been with another man, I’m his first, ever, and although that makes me happy, I’m scared of hurting him too. I hug him tightly, kissing lightly along his neck as we move toward the bed. I move my lips to his, deciding words aren’t needed now as my hands slowly slip under his shirt and run along the small of his back, just caressing his skin before slowly raising the hem of his shirt, breaking our lip contact only long enough to remove his shirt and drop it to the floor beside us. I run my fingertips lightly over his chest, caressing and savoring every inch of his beautiful, flawless skin. He sits down on the edge of the bed and watches me as I quickly slip my shirt off and let it fall to the floor beside his. His eyes run over my body much like they did the first night we kissed, and my eyes run over his before I step closer to the bed and rest one leg to his side, leaning in and kissing him. I move toward him as he moves himself back, further onto the bed so that I’m essentially crawling over him, kissing him, nothing touching but our lips.

I break the kiss as his head reaches the pillows and I smile down at him as I straddle his thighs lightly and lean back, keeping my eyes on his, and slip his shoes off, and then my own. I smile softly and lean in to kiss him again, letting our lips and tongues engage in our private dance again before moving to slowly kiss my way down his throat and to his chest. I glance up to his face to see a look of contented pleasure crossing his features as my lips and mouth continue to toy and dance their way across his chest and down to his stomach. My fingers slip down his sides and come to rest at the waist of his dark pants. I smile to myself as I slip my fingers under and slowly work them undone before slipping them down his legs and finally off, leaving him only in a pair of gray boxers. I smile to myself as my eyes run over him again and work their way up to find his eyes open. I move back up his body to press my lips to his again as I feel his hands slip up and around me, dancing their own cadence across my skin before slipping back around and working to undo my own pants. I let my body move with his movements and we finally get them off my long legs and cast to the floor beside the rest of our clothes.

I pull back to look into his eyes and bring a hand up to caress his cheek softly. I smile and place a soft peck on his lips before whispering in the voice I only use for him.

“Are you sure Matt?”

He smiles, though a little nervously, and nods his head, lifting up to press his lips to mine again and taking away any doubt I had that he might not be sure. He slips his hands down my back and into the band of my own boxers as he quickly slips them off my hips and down my legs where I manage to get them off too, and onto the floor. I continue kissing him, letting myself get comfortable with the feeling of being naked with someone again before letting my lips leave his and slowly start moving down his body again, finding little spots to kiss, nip, or lick to make him breathe in sharply. My fingers find the band of his boxers and I start to slowly slip them off of his hips as he raises them to help me, and I drop them onto the floor as the last piece of clothing in the pool at the edge of the bed.

I let my eyes travel up and over his body as it is laid out before me and I can’t help but smile in awe. This is a huge step for the two of us tonight, we’ve never really been naked together, as odd as that may sound after a year’s relationship. We’ve just taken it really slowly until tonight and I’m almost uncertain which path to take next. In the few times I’d been with someone I’d never been the one in charge, the one to take control, but here it is, my turn, and with Matt. He looks at me uncertainly and I smile to reassure him as I move quickly back up his body, running my fingers along his sides as I do so until I’m laid overtop of him, my lips back against his, my hands at his sides, and his hands sliding across my back.

His touch is electrifying and I can’t deny that I’m ready for this to happen now, more ready than I’ve been for anything else to happen in our relationship. I move my body slowly against his, sliding my skin across his as we kiss, letting our bodies react to the friction and contact between us. I feel like the room gets warmer as I move my body along his, slowly, agonizingly slow, but yet fast enough to cause soft beads of sweat to start to form and aid in my movements. I slip my legs between his, pushing his apart enough so that my own can rest between his as I continue rubbing our bodies together, pressing myself against him. The dance of our mouths becomes more heated, more passionate, deeper and stronger. He moans softly against my lips, and I respond with a matching moan, knowing my body wants more I move my lips down his neck and chest as I slowly lean back onto my knees.

He looks up at me as my lips leave his skin and my eyes search for what we’ll need next. I see the small bottle on the bedside table and reach for it, but see nothing else. My eyes dart to his and he shakes his head softly, telling me not to worry about it and I see something else in his eyes and I know that he wants me, just me, nothing between us. I nod my head slowly and lean forward to kiss him, letting my hands move and work, without the supervision of my eyes, to prepare myself and him. I slip a well-covered finger inside him and feel him wince against my lips. I knew it would hurt him, and I know what is to come will hurt even more as I slip a second finger inside him and he gasps for breath, breaking our kiss.

He leans back against the pillows, his eyes closed, wincing at my fingers inside him. I slip my free hand along the inside of his thigh, letting my fingers explore and stroke at him in an attempt to distract him as I add yet a third finger, just trying to stretch him enough. I hear him whimper softly and I lean up to kiss his lips one more time before maneuvering my body to press against him after removing my fingers. I lift his hips slightly so that I’m perfectly positioned as his legs come up and around me. I continue my one hand moving along his body as I slowly push inside. He winces again, and gasps for air, and I think its amazing how much better he is doing at this than I did on my first time. I let him get as comfortable as possible with the new feeling before finishing pushing inside of him. His face is screwed up in pain and discomfort and his legs squeeze tighter around my waist, as if he is trying to tell me just how much it hurts, but I know, I remember. I lean down and slowly start to kiss him as I move my hands over his skin again, caressing and distracting him from the discomfort.

I wait until I feel enough time has passed before I start slow movements against him. It hurts me to hear the sharp intakes of breath, or the gasps and whimpers, but I know there is nothing I can do to make it less painful at first. I let my movements, though still slow, get deeper and pick up a little speed. I continue kissing around his lips, occasionally taking his lower lip into my mouth and sucking on it softly as I continue to move. I change my angle against him just slightly as I move in again, this time his gasp has lost all sense of pain and is accompanied by a soft groan of pleasure and I smile against his skin. I’ve found the spot that turns his pain into pleasure and I angle to be sure I hit that spot every time, pressing into him deeper and faster than before, striving to reach the goal of his ultimate pleasure. I kiss and suck at his neck, getting frantic with the heat and pleasure that is running through my own body, feeling him shudder and shiver beneath me with his own.

“Mi----ah….mmmm……uhhhhhhhh…”

I smile, unable to hold in my joy at hearing him trying to say my name as I make him mine. He gasps again and is rendered speechless as I continue my movements, whimpering occasionally myself. I’ve never felt anything as wonderful as being with him, being inside him, and just the thought of it almost makes the passion end too quickly. I open my eyes; leaning back just enough so that I can look at his face, see his expressions. I kiss his lips softly and lean in to whisper to him.

“Open your eyes Matt, please; I want to see your eyes.”

He opens his eyes at my request and I smile softly down at him, holding his eyes as I continue my movements inside him and against him. I watch his brow furrow and crease as he struggles to keep his eyes open and on mine. I lean down and kiss him softly, again taking his lower lip between my own, tugging at it lightly before going back to kiss him deeply, keeping my eyes on his as I move against him deeper, harder, but not too hard to hurt him. He groans softly, whimpering and gasping for air as I feel his body start to shiver with pre-orgasmic shudders. He jams his lips tighter against mine and starts pulling me deeper inside him, knowing what is coming and wanting it all the more. He pulls at me and squeezes his entire body around me as his eyes roll shut and he groans loudly.

“Mmmmmmiiiiiiiiaaaaahhhhhhhhhh…”

He gasps as his body continues to shiver with his pleasure and I feel the wetness of his release over my stomach and chest as I press deeper inside him before my body shudders and with a groan I release inside him. Our bodies shiver in unison as we come down from the intense high of being together like this. I kiss him softly as he reaches up and lightly brushes the sweat clumped strands of hair from my eyes. I smile and nuzzle into his hand and his touch before opening my eyes again and looking down at him. His legs slip from around my waist and I move so that I can wrap him in my arms and hold him against my chest, cradling him. I kiss his head, smelling the scent of his shampoo as I do so before whispering.

“I love you Matt, I love you so much…”

I reached down and tilted his head up so that I could look into his eyes.

“I love you, and thank you for letting me make you mine. But next time, next time I want you to make me yours. Because I already am, you just need to claim me.”

I kissed him again, softly, tenderly and then rest my cheek to his forehead as I feel him lightly kiss my chest.

“Happy Anniversary Jere, I love you too. And I can’t wait to claim you…that was…amazing. It hurt, like you said it would, but not too much, just enough. It was perfect. You’re perfect Jere. I love you so much.”

I smile and move to kiss him again. I’ve never thought of myself as perfect, rather, I think I’m far from perfect. To me, Matt is perfect, everything about him is and I’m as far from perfect as I can get. I hold Matt on such a pedestal, and here he is, telling me that I’m perfect. It blows my mind and warms my heart and I know that I can never love him more then I do now. He has given me everything I could ever need or want, and if I could, I’d never leave this bed. Tears slip down my cheeks and I pull him closer, managing a choked whisper.

“Matt…I’m not perfect, you are, you always have been, but you don’t know what it means to me to hear you tell me I’m prefect. Thank you, thank you for everything. I love you…”

He turns in my arms, looking up at me with a soft smile and wipes away my tears.

“Jere…Miah…My Miah…you are perfect. You’re art in motion.”

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