[ Mother May I Sleep With Danger by Joy Crookes]
word count: 3366

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Dalton's hands were big.

That was something that also always made me feel a bit small. Usually, that- in turn- would make me feel awkward. I always hated how small I was for a boy my age, while everyone else was bulking/building muscle/getting taller...

I stood at 5'6 on a good day, my body was too thin and I was sure I could almost fit into Rhett's old tee-ball uniform.

And normally, I hated it.

But Dalton's hands were big and he was using one to hike my leg up on his. His other hand was pushed into my hair, holding me to him, his lips were dominating and hips rocked in a way that made my stomach warm.

And I felt so lightheaded.

He kissed me so intensely, nipping at my bottom lip when I tried to make it more innocent. I wasn't used to this, not passion, not the way they described it in books. Our jeans bumped against each other's, a friction I'd never felt before and I tried to swallow back the moan that threatened to spill.

It tumbled through my lips, into his open mouth. My hands curled tightly around the collar of his shirt and I could feel myself trembling.

Dalton had gripped my hips lightly through my jeans, tugging me to him. It was hot in the room, my clothes feeling a bit too stuck to my body for it to be going into Spring.

A large hand tightened around the back of my thigh experimentally, tugging it over his body. He wanted me straddling him and he was kissing soft pecks onto the skin of my neck when I complied.

I sat in his lap, my heart beat out of my chest. He'd leant up to kiss me, exhaling through his nose, it knocked into mine. His lips were so soft.

And his elbows pressed into the mattress, in seconds he was moving my hips again for me. I could feel him, all of him under me, I'd never felt so simultaneously turned on and terrified.

I wasn't sure why I was so nervous now, something about him seeing my body felt weird even though it was completely consensual. I let him watch me undress and I was now sitting in his lap, feeling the direct consequence of dry humping for ten minutes. Dalton wasn't all that good at hiding his arousal, he didn't try to.

He seemed realer in those moments. His eyes never really left mine.

He was really hot, that much was obvious but I felt more vulnerable, was that bad to say? Was it bad to say that I was almost uncomfortable when we were alone? Like I had to live up to something that I wasn't or he expected things that I didn't know how to do.

Or things that I didn't know if I wanted to do.

But Dalton walked me home the next day, the day after Quinn had made it so painstakingly obvious that I was being cowardly. He looked like he wanted to come in and I'd never done any of this but it seemed like a good time to start.

It felt good, it did, I knew that it did and he definitely knew that it did. Everything he was doing felt great. Being around Dalton always felt kind of good, even if it was also all confusing and so, so scary.

And he was kissing me again, I loved when he kissed me. His lips were so soft and he was grabbing at my ass, squeezing. My pants tightened and he was tugging my shirt over my head before I even realized, kissing down my neck. A hand came to grab at the back of my neck, pushing my skin further to his lips and his kisses were open mouthed.

"You're loud." There was a chuckle in them and his hand was back in my pants. "How much time do we have?"

I could feel my cheeks burning at the comment, I hadn't even realized how much noise I was actually making until he pointed it out. Now I was even more nervous.

Mouthing down the expanse of my neck and to my chest, Dalton laid me back. He was kissing my skin so hurriedly, my heart beating out of my chest, I was sure he could feel the pulsing against his lips.

He was shoving a cold hand in the back of my jeans when I started murmuring my disapproval.

That was too far for now. Too far from how it started, it started simple, he'd come over to do homework but two seconds into sitting on my bed he was leaning over me.

And he seemed to be expecting more. We didn't have a proper conversation.

Dalton was like that, I was starting to realize... he wasn't verbal enough sometimes. He'd try things with so much confidence but back away almost instantly. I wasn't sure if I liked it that way but he pulled his hands out of my jeans.

He nipped at the spot on my neck, I was lightheaded. And he was looking into my eyes with an unreadable look. His lips were swollen and pouty and he was hovering over me.

"Alright?"

I nodded before I knew if it was true.

I didn't feel bad, I knew that but my jeans were getting uncomfortable now and for some reason, I could tell that if I took them off that would be cementing where the night would go. Dalton didn't ask if I was alright until he'd already done what would make me uncomfortable.

We wouldn't stop then.

"Yeah, yeah, just I dunno when they're coming home, so..." I was biting my lip but I stayed where I laid, I tried not to pay attention to the way he stroked a finger over my hip bone, his finger was warm and I could feel myself getting even harder.

He nodded. "Hm."

"Kinda kills the momen—"

And then he was taking my chin into his free hand, brushing his thumb over my bottom lip and tugging it gently out of my mouth. He was kissing me again before I could object. "Relax."

"We could-we could go to yours?"

And he was sighing heavily then, the moment definitely dead. I felt awful, like his disappointment was my fault. He was fixing his clothes in a second and I realized he was still wearing all of them. I tugged my shirt over my head, eyes on my sheets. I crossed my legs to hide my own arousal.

I was so uncomfortable now.

"Dalton--"

"Babe."

And I didn't know why he had such a quick urge to cut me off but hit deflated any good mood that had built up. "What?"

"You know we can't go to mine so stop asking." And I didn't feel like fighting him on that. He must've noticed my frown cause he was pushing his hand through my hair again. "Hey. You look good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He was tugging me closer by my waist, fingers dipping past the waistband of my pants again. "You're so sexy, babe. Shame you won't let me touch you."

As if he hadn't said anything, he spoke again, changing the subject. Just that small comment was enough to spark an insecurity in me.

How many people had he touched?

"So Hale asked if-if we wanted to go to this warehouse thing."

"We?" Something about that made my heart flutter a little more, and it was in vain. Why I assumed he'd tell his friends that I was someone important to him was delusional at best cause Dalton was shrugging.

A small part of me actually wanted to go.

"Well, he asked me, said I could bring a girl so I mean, it won't be weird, will it? We'll go as mates."

The sound of a car door slamming alerted me it followed by the chime of my front door, my eyes widened and Dalton matched my spiked levels of anxiety.

"Fuck."

Throwing his shirt over at him, I tried not to freak out. One of us had to be calm and I knew it couldn't be Dalton. The last time we were in this situation, he didn't speak to me for days. And he was just holding his shirt in his hands. "Put that back on." He did as told.

Standing, I let out a heavy sigh, straightening my duvet as Aaron's little feet darted up the stairs, followed by a stampede. I was sure it was Rhett chasing our little brother down the hall. I placed my books on the desk, closed, Dalton still hadn't moved from his spot.

And I could feel how nervous he was, as if he were lost in space. He wouldn't look at me then and for some reason it felt like my fault.

"You okay?"

He nodded.

"You're mad at me."

"I'm not." And it was softer than normal, he was shaking his head, hands trembling over a closed textbook and he placed it next to him on my bed, opening the cover. We didn't speak of it.

: : :

I couldn't stop thinking about Wyatt.

Was he asking me to the party because he wanted me to go? Did I want to go... just to see him? Did I actually want to go or was it the novelty of 'The Warehouse'? Was I supposed to still be thinking of Wyatt when Dalton was sitting so close?

He wasn't close enough now but it didn't matter. It didn't matter because I'd gotten my fill of physical connection and I couldn't stop thinking about Wyatt.

He fucked Brady Denton. He wasn't straight. I was one of the only people who knew now.

And he asked me to 'The Warehouse,' he asked me on a hike, he asked me to participate in his portfolio... he asked me to the planetarium.

And I chose Dalton, every single time.

And he looked so cute then, so comfortable and so interested in being close to me and all I could think about was Wyatt Stevens. Did Wyatt like me? Did he want to sleep with me?

He's had sex with boys.

And I was back at the lake party, I was back to being absolutely obsessed with him. Trudging over, I slotted my body next to Dalton and he offered another smile, this one more nervous and even more cute.

We sat like that for a while, in silence.

It was nice outside and I was thinking of topics to talk about. I didn't want to talk about the party, I suddenly wanted to talk to Claire.

This was the closest I'd ever gotten with boy-next-door Wyatt Stevens and now I was entangled with the literal boy next door, I felt like Bella fucking Swan.

I felt a brush against my hand, it tentative and I watched Dalton take my hand. Gently, he placed his over mine, it cold, his eyes were staring straight ahead, through the sliding glass door and into Helena's sunroom.

Slowly, I flipped my hand over, lacing long fingers through his. His rings felt cold against my hand. They felt like steel.

Wyatt wore puka shell necklaces and handmade jewelry.

But Dalton's hand was stiff, he wasn't relaxed. I wondered how often he was on edge. "My-my parents know, you know. They won't..." care or make a big deal and they won't judge you.

I could feel how at ease that made him.

Slowly the rigidness slipped from his body, he held my hand a little tighter when I squeezed.

"G!" Rhett's voice sounded from across the yard, he'd entered through the gate so quickly Dalton had shifted away. "Aussie boy." Baseball bat and cap in hand, he tossed his bag onto the porch and went to knock on the shed door.

One thing that took some time getting used to when we moved was how home-y it all felt. I loved California but I'd never really had a place to relax, not one that I felt this safe. Helena loved to garden, Terry had built this shed.

There were memories attached, the dent in the gutter, baseballs still stuck on the roof from Rhett's conditioning. Claire had an old guitar hung up in the shed -Vince's unofficial bedroom- I could see it through the window. We had a little floral headstone under the tree, where we'd buried our cat Dizzy in '09.

Sammy cried a lot that year. There were skates shoved under the stairs under the porch, miscellaneous toys in a bench under the awning, pressed into the wall and covered with throw pillows.

Pillows that Helena's mother had made. This was home.

"Rhett." He didn't get the memo when I didn't respond, offering a look when he met my eyes.

A goofy grin stole the show. "What?" And he was mocking me now. "Oh, you're trying to be alone?"

I nodded and Rhett snorted. "No."

"What do you mean, 'no'?"

"Y'all been alone enough today." He scrunched his face up then, eyes narrowing. "I can smell it." And I tried not to laugh. "Smells gay."

Even if Rhett was the most annoying person I'd ever met, I had to admit that his hilarity was completely effortless. "Shut up."

Dalton didn't speak, just cleared his throat a bit and my brother's brows furrowed. "Not in a bad way, dude."

It was silent.

He combed a hand through wet hair, lounging back on the grass, dirt stains all over his uniform. I wondered how he laid in the ground for so long, I'd break out in hives after twenty minutes.

He'd thrown his arm over his face then, pit stains prominent and hair peaking out from his sleeve. I wondered if Dalton minded how hairless I was.

His eyes were on my brother, I could see him staring.

Sinking further into his side, I pulled my legs up into the hammock, relief blooming in my chest when he didn't move.

"It's okay that you like my brother." And now it was getting awkward. "Do I think you chose the wrong Choi boy? Maybe. But Prince is a good consolidation to MJ." And Terry's last name was Choi, mine was still Martin, Rhett's was Bennett. We'd attach the last name legally at some point in the future.

Either way, we were the 'Choi's sans the obvious lack of any asian heritage in everyone except Terry— who was still half-white on our grandmother's side.

It rhymed though, and Rhett was sitting up on his elbows, looking in my general direction.

"You wanna go to that Warehouse thing on Saturday?"

"You got invited?" And I wasn't sure why I was shocked. It was a popular kid thing and Rhett had been popular the entire time I'd known him.

He was kind, he was also really easy to talk to and he got along with everyone. I knew it was stupid to feel jealousy but it burned, a small flicker in my gut and it was pointless.

Cause Rhett was shaking his head. "Vinny did." That made sense too.

"Isn't it just a plus one?"

"You gotta learn how parties work, Gabe." He laughed. "Vinny fucks Shelley so he can bring as many people as he wants." Shelley McKim was Queen B. She was like Regina George in a cheer uniform.

"It'd be skeevy if he didn't actually like her." I got that too, Vincent wasn't the nicest person but he wasn't the type to social climb. They were both pretty high on the status scale though, him and Rhett, they would've had invited regardless.

Vincent played basketball for a few years, Rhett played football. Vincent hung out with skaters and artists and-and... and he had introduced me to Wyatt Stevens — who was also so popular.

"Anyways, I'm going. Hale's going so I assume you're going, Hugh Jackman."

Dalton seemed annoyed, I could see amusement in his eyes though. "Is that the only Australian actor you know?"

"Yep."

"Yeah," he let his lips quirk up only slightly, tugging me closer to him and I'd never felt more wanted. "Are you going?"

I tried to hold back my smile but I was definitely grinning from the look on Rhett's face. "Sure."

"Right on." Rhett nodded. "So, the carpool situation—"

"Yo, Babe Ruth, you busy?" Was how Vince poked his head out the shed. He slinked closer, body cloaked in all-black. Visually, they were polar opposites and Rhett was shaking his head in response.

Vincent nodded over at Dalton and I, that was the most acknowledgement we got. Yanking Rhett up, he gave a look like he'd smelled something foul and he was covering his nose.

"Dude, you smell like a wet sock." He pointed to the house. "Go shower and get dressed, we got plans at 7."

"We didn't make plans."

Vince shrugged. "I did."

"And what's in it for me?"

The more pessimistic of my brother's gave a deadpan. "Veronica Hall."

"No way."

I tried not to think about how much closer we'd probably be if I found Veronica Hall attractive.

It's not that she wasn't attractive. She had extremely cropped curly hair, dyed a pretty ginger, piercing cat-like eyes and perfectly clear dark skin. She was alternative in that way straight boys liked and she was modelesque.

I could see how she was attractive. I just didn't want to have Rex with her. That's where the disconnect happened, I think, when so much of your adolescence is about the exploration of sex and teenagers were always horny...

It was hard to talk to my brothers about things like that.

I couldn't talk to them about how Wyatt Stevens was my sexual awakening and how-how I wasn't sure if that was why I was thinking about him when Dalton kissed me.

"—she can't just ditch her tonight so she's all yours." Vince's face held no real emotion besides exhaustion with the conversation. "You're gonna go see some chick-flick at AMC that she's been dying to see."

"Fine." He shrugged. "But we're getting Henry's." Henrys was a greasy burger joint off I-95 that Rhett was absolutely obsessed with. I tried not to feel a certain way that they hadn't offered an invite. Dalton ran a finger over my knuckles, massaging out the tension in my hand.

And as my brothers were walking away, he spoke again. "Prince is more versatile by the way."

Rhett's brows furrowed so he elaborated.

"In terms of discography, stamina, and just pure unquestionable talent... Prince just has more to offer. He won a Golden Globe, he played 27 instruments..." and that was impressive. What was even more impressive was Dalton Jones.

I'd never seen him so conversational, at least not this engaged. I didn't even know he liked music this much but he was rivaling Rhett with the random factoids and I was watching his smile turn into a smirk.

He shrugged so nonchalantly and it was hot. "Both legends in their own right but I'd choose Purple Rain over Annie, Are You Okay any day."

I didn't have a preference, all I knew was this conversation felt symbolic and he was looking over at me when Rhett walked back to dap him up.

"You need to meet Sunny."

And Sunny Crooks — aka Sunny Noir — was one of his best friends the year prior, she'd dropped out and started an indie band but the conversation felt so reminiscent of them.

When Rhett was gone and it was just Dalton alone in the silence, his smile didn't fade. Sunlight was bouncing off his hair, making it appear more blonde, freckles so obvious and he looked so bright then. He was stunning.

And I was a puddle.

"Come here." My eyes locked into baby blues, Dalton was tossing his arm back over my shoulder and hugging me into his chest, hand resting on my exposed hip. He brushed his finger over the skin there.

Dalton Jones' hands were soft, they swallowed mine and suddenly I felt calm.