Never a Hero

into the bedroom and pull him down on the bed. He let me wrap my legs around him, holding him tighter than my arms ever could. But when I reached for the buttons of his pants, he jerked away from me, panting.
    “Owen, I can’t. We can’t do this.”
    “Yes, we can.”
    “No. You know now—”
    “Yes, I know . That’s the point. You don’t have to be afraid of this.”
    “But—”
    “There are no more secrets between us.” I pulled his pants open and slid my hand inside to cup his erection through his underwear. He could protest all he wanted, but it was only words. The proof of his desire was in my hand, hard against my palm. It was in his eyes and his labored breath. It was in the way he held me, and the way he moaned as I began to rub his bulge.
    “I need this,” I told him. “Please.”
    My poor Nick. He tried so hard to be noble, but he wasn’t that strong. Not when it came to this. He moaned, not just with pleasure, but with the grief of knowing he couldn’t win. The humiliation of admitting his desire was stronger than his will. Maybe it was wrong of me to push him when I knew the depths of his struggles, but I didn’t want to coddle him. Not this time.
    I pulled the waistband of his underwear out of the way. I felt him give in, surrendering himself to the inevitable, as his erection popped free. It was the sweetest victory I’d ever won, and I wrapped my fist around his cock and stroked. I heard the sharp intake of his breath. I saw the moment of euphoria that flitted across his face, but then he grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand away. He lay shuddering on top of me, his breath hot against my neck.
    “It’s been a long time, Owen. A really long time.”
    His voice shook, but what I heard in his tone was embarrassment more than anything.
    “Don’t tell me I can’t touch you. Not tonight.”
    He laughed shakily. “I’m not saying you can’t, but you’ll stop now if you want this to last more than three minutes.”
    I laughed too, but it excited me, knowing I had this kind of power over him. “Do you have some kind of lubricant?”
    “We can’t have sex. We can’t—”
    “I know what I’m doing.”
    He hesitated for a moment, debating, but then he let go of me. I kept my legs wrapped around his hips as he reached into the bottom drawer of his bedside table and came up with a tube. I held my hand out, and he squirted some onto my palm. The whole thing had taken only a couple of seconds, and when I wrapped my hand around his cock again, he groaned. His closed his eyes and thrust into my fist. He shuddered and pulled me close, burying his face against my neck.
    “Owen,” he whispered. “Jesus, I think three minutes might have been wishful thinking.”
    I kissed his coarse cheek, stroked my fist down his length to feel him shudder again. “Go ahead,” I whispered. “I’ve got you.”
    His first thrust was hesitant, as if testing his own restraint. The second was slow and deliberate, and I watched him, thrilled at the ecstasy I saw on his face. His next thrust was harder, and he opened his eyes to look down at me. I could see the desperation in them, a plea for me to still be okay with what he was doing.
    I smiled at him. “I’ve got you,” I said again.
    He made a sound, something between a moan and a growl, a noise so primal and so powerful it made my heart race and my groin ache. It was the sound of desperation and need, of finally letting go, of giving in to his lust. He began to move his hips, fucking my fist with an abandon that bordered on violence. His cock was hot and slick as my fingers slid over his glans again and again. Every muscle in his body was taut. His fingers dug painfully into my sides. He panted and grunted into my neck as he rutted into my hand.
    I’d wanted him to make love to me, but that wasn’t what this was. At this moment, I could have been anyone. This wasn’t about me. It was about him. It was five years of sexual frustration finally being cut free, and I was happy to be the one to give it to him. All of my worries and my insecurities fled as I gave him the thing he needed most at that moment. He chased his pleasure, driving into me harder and harder until he came, roaring with the strength of his release, emptying himself onto my stomach. He collapsed on top of me, panting and shaking, and I held him against me as best as I could with both arms, the whole one and the half.
    “Owen,” he finally said into my ear. “That wasn’t very