A Boy Called Cin by Cecil Wilde Read Free Book Online Page A

teenager every ten seconds, but Cin has a way about him. Effortless attractiveness and confidence that Tom's never really mastered. He can fake it for a news camera, but Cin seems to genuinely experience it as a natural part of himself.
    "I bet you're tired. I'll show you your room and you can take a nap while I bring your stuff in, if you want?"
    "I'd definitely like to see my room." Cin's eyes sparkle, and he follows Tom eagerly up onto the porch, pausing to play with the creaking step for a moment before continuing into the house. The inside is fully fitted out, perfectly livable; it's just some cosmetic stuff on the outside that needs seeing to. Tom's reward to himself for good behavior is being allowed to do his own maintenance on his own home.
    Cin looks around at his room with wide eyes that make Tom's heart thud in his chest. It's just a clean room: not overly furnished, but the bed and the view of the trees outside are both nice and Cin actually seems impressed for once. Tom tries to stay in the doorway to make it clear that this is Cin's space and he won't encroach on it, but Cin drags him inside with more force than he should be capable of for his size.
    Before Tom really knows what's happening, he's sitting on the edge of the bed with Cin straddling his lap. Cin kisses him, like he always does, and Tom responds cautiously, still afraid that he's doing all of this wrong. Especially because he's about to have to explain to Cin that he's really not sure he can deal with having a dick today, either.
    "I don't like being vaginally penetrated," Cin says, as though he's read Tom's thoughts. Maybe he's just picking up on the nervous tension that's winding him so tight that he might snap. "Sometimes I can deal with it, but it's like playing the dysphoria lottery, so I avoid it and I'm gonna ask you right now not to ask me for it."
    Tom nods, too eager, but desperate to make it clear to Cin that he'd never do anything to hurt him. "Of course. Totally off the table."
    Cin pecks him on the lips. Tom's starting to recognize it for the habit or ritual it is: the second, quick kiss that comes after the all-consuming one. It's nice. It stops him from feeling like all the affection has just stopped dead.
    "Has anyone ever tried getting you off without touching your penis?"
    The clinical distance should be weird, but Tom's grateful for it. It's just an attached part that way, rather than a defining feature. He files the revelation away for closer examination some other time, and shakes his head. The idea is entirely new to him and he's not sure how that would go.
    Cin's gentle smile turns into a wicked grin. "Can I try it?"
    Nervousness tightens Tom's stomach. "Is it gonna hurt?" He feels stupid asking; he's a grown man and he can deal with a little pain, and Cin is offering him something huge here. A way to take the discomfort and embarrassment out of sex is something he's been looking for half his life.
    "It is absolutely not going to hurt unless I fuck up astronomically. I just wanna try eating you out."
    Tom raises an eyebrow and gets as far as opening his mouth to ask what the hell Cin means when a mental image hits him, half-remembered from uninspiring porn, and he blushes darkly. "Oh."
    "I won't be horribly offended if you say no. It's not everyone's thing."
    "No, uh. I mean, yeah? I'd be okay with trying it, if that's something you wanna do."
    Cin lights up like Tom's just announced that it's actually Christmas morning. "If I can assume you have reasonable personal hygiene practices, I'd like you on your hands and knees."
    Tom kicks his shoes off and climbs onto the bed, because that's not the kind of request he's about to argue with. The mattress dips behind him as Cin follows.
    "This is a nice view. You should do your next magazine spread like this."
    "God no. I try hard enough to avoid looking at my ass in a mirror. I really don't wanna see it all over newsstands."
    Cin's hands slide under his T-shirt without warning,