Here I was minding my own business, when all of a sudden he's got this look in his eye like I'm some kinda trophy. I mean, he looked as if it was taking every drop of dignity in him not to leap across the table and ravish me right there in the diner. I dunno what brought on this sudden change of personality. Maybe it was the way I licked my ice cream, all slow and lazy even though it was practically melting all over my hand. Of course I was doing it on purpose. I had to prove I wasn't some shy little pretty boy like everyone said I was. OK, so maybe it was true, but I could be just as sexy as the next guy. Or something.

By the time I realized he was gawking at me his sundae was just a bowl of chocolatey goo. Mm. I wonder if he knew how I fantasized about him even before we became an item. I bet that'd get him hot and bothered. Though I'm sure he already was.

"Hey," he whispered hoarsely as my tongue darted out to catch a stray drop of liquid sugar. "Can we get out of here?"

"But I haven't finished my ice cream," I said leisurely, thoroughly enjoying the strained look on his cute little face.

"Alex," he pleaded in that please-take-me-now-or-I'll-die-voice. Whad'ya know, his hand was on my knee. I could take a hint.

"OK," I gulped. "But I can take this with me, right?"

"…Yeah. We could….yeah. Let's go."

So we bolted to Jimmy's old Ford, and I was so proud of him for not doing me in the back seat. He wanted me to be comfortable. How cute.

I would've tried to finish my cone on the way to his house, but unfortunately I was too focused on not flying through the windshield every time his foot hit the brake. I muttered curse words and yelled at him for his attempted murder as he hauled me off to his bedroom.

If only he was this focused in school, I thought idly as he fumbled around for condoms and lube. It was endearing the way he tripped over his own feet and landed flat on his face right in front of me.

"You're not this clumsy in bed, are you?" I chortled.

"Shut up, I'm nervous OK?" he admitted quietly. I helped him stand and noticed without effort that he was still rather…excited. He caught my eye and my heart started racing. "What happened to your ice cream?" he asked without moving, face lit up like a Christmas tree.

"I don't remember," I said lamely. He didn't seem to care, and soon the awkward silence was broken when he closed the gap between our mouths. It wasn't our first kiss, but somehow it seemed more romantic, more sensual, more desperate. I think the last relevant thought I had after that was, what did happen to my ice cream??

Hands were roaming everywhere and I didn't know what I was doing. I dunno how we managed to remove our clothes without ever breaking apart. Suddenly I found myself spread-eagle on his bed, looking up through thick lashes at his predatory gaze and feeling like a piece of meat.

"Are… are you sure you wanna do this?" he asked hesitantly, holding up the condom as if to explain.

"Jimmy," I breathed, "if I wasn't 100 sure about this I wouldn't be naked, in your bed."

"…good point. Y'know, you're really…um…"

"Really what?"

"Really…uh…beautiful, I guess… I-I mean, handsome, y'know…' Part of me just wanted to tell him to shut up and fuck me, but he was so damn cute when he blushed like that. I decided to thank him with a kiss and soon he realized that he couldn't put it off forever. So with all the expertise of…nothing, he rolled on the condom and managed to drop the bottle of lube several times before he got it open. Once he got some on his fingers he looked at me with an unreadable expression. "Er…"

"Go ahead," I sighed. Part of the process, right? This seemed enough of a push for him, and all of a sudden I was making strangled noises as he prepared me. It was awkward to say the least. He refused to meet my eyes, and once he had decided that three fingers was enough he withdrew his hand quickly and lifted my legs over his shoulders. Something told me we would have a good laugh about this later.

He was careful at first, making sure he fit perfectly and waiting for my reaction. I gasped out his name when he hit that sweet spot, and he looked worried.

"Are you OK? D-did I hurt you?"

"I'm fine," I moaned. "Please…"

He seemed to understand, and after that all our inhibitions melted away. Once we had found our own rhythm it felt more like making love than just fucking. We were as graceful as horny teenage boys could be, but it seemed so natural, so right.

Before I knew it we were both spent and gasping for breath, tangled up in each other. I think I fell in love with him that day, four years before we would start living together.

After a while I mumbled, "Y'know, we forgot all about foreplay."

All he said was, "Not my fault you lost the damn ice cream."