I know that I should ask them, but I don’t want to break from their kisses. I throw my arms over their shoulders, feeling how soft their hair is on my fingers. I know for a fact they use two-in-one shampoo and conditioner, so there’s no reason for their hair to feel as nice in my hands as it does. I’m not going to complain.

Wyatt lets out this soft whimper, and it’s so adorable I can’t help but smile at them.

“You’re so cute.”

It doesn’t even feel like I’m talking to Wyatt anymore. We’re just two people who have some kind of attraction to each other. And it feels like that’s all that matters.

“What do you want to do?” I ask them.

“I, um … uh …” They stammer for a bit. “I’ve never done this before.”

“You can call it sex, Wyatt. We’re not twelve.”

“Right.” Their face feels so hot next to mine. “I’ve never had sex before.”

“I can show you how, if you want.”

Wyatt doesn’t even hesitate. “I do.”

“Okay.” I push them down to lie flat on the bed, and I kiss them, again and again and again. I kiss them like we’re going to die, I kiss them like there’s no air left in the room, I kiss them like they’re the first and last person that I’m ever going to kiss, I kiss them like we’re the only two people left on this planet whirling through the galaxy.

I kiss them like the world is on fire.

*  *  *

Things are awkward at first.

And in the middle.

And at the end.

Wyatt has never used lube; they’ve never rolled a condom on before. I’m just grateful that I still had a few stashed in my bag. Maybe from last Christmas? In the moment I don’t care where they’ve come from, only that they’re not expired.

I guide Wyatt slowly, assuring them that we can take our time.

They’re clumsy, unsure, scared that they might be hurting me, but I try to reassure them every step of the way. It feels good. They feel good.

There’s something so different about seeing them naked, on top of me. We stare at each other, unable to catch our breath, sweating. They keep whispering my name, singing just to me.

It doesn’t last long, but I’m okay with that.

And because Wyatt is the perfect person, they ask how they can help me finish, and I guide their hands again, slowing, thoughtfully, carefully. Twisting, crooking their fingers just the right way.

They stare at me as I struggle to catch my breath.

And just as I’m about to ask them what they’re thinking, they say it without being prompted.

“You’re so beautiful.”