I can't stop thinking about him.

He has my heart fluttering rapidly in my chest and that insufferable heat pulsing away in between my legs when those shiny lips of his trail down my neck and body, his hands reaching for my zipper to reveal the hardness in my jeans and he whispers in my ear, "You make me feel things I've never felt before."

He couldn't wait any longer and now I'm here at his mercy.

After long hours I spent at the training ground, I rushed to his apartment because his messages sounded urgent, something along the line of I need to see you as soon as possible and Hurry up, so clearly, I worried that something was wrong. But Nico attacked my mouth as soon as I walked through his door, the urgency wasn't about anything serious, it was his insatiable hunger for me. And I love every second of it.

I have him backed against the door first, but we stumble into the kitchen somehow and I can't wait any longer because of the lewd words tumbling from his mouth. I realise he was home alone thinking about me too, and more than that, he was constructing scenarios of us fucking and then he probably played with himself, pushing towards the edge but never quite getting there— he was saving his release for me.

When I expose his firm ass and grab both of his asscheeks, squeezing rough that it must hurt, Nico is already a hot, senseless mess. And because I want him to know how much his surrender means to me, how much I missed him too, I kiss him, and praise him and kiss him some more. "Missed you," kiss, "Missed you", another kiss, lingering, deep. "So fucking good for me. Perfect."

My fingers push into him— I'm always gentle with Nico since that unfortunate restroom sex but I feel his hole, loose and ready and sticky with lube and I completely lose the little composure I had since I came into his apartment.

"What did you do?" I whisper as I quickly pull down his underwear and joggers in one go and spin him around, bending him over the kitchen worktop. The groceries and dishes are carelessly pushed aside, some falling on the floor as I push my hard-on into him without hesitation.

Nico groans long and loud in relief. "I couldn't wait anymore. Missed you. Needed you," he mumbles while I push deep and fast into his eager, tight hole, every thrust, every moan, every breath making me drift into another dimension. Orgasms with Nico are like that— outer space experience that lifts me so high that it takes forever to fall back down to earth. I should be self-conscious, I should hate when he focuses his mouth on that forbidden part of me, when his fingers or breath ghost around that tender skin but I'm on edge every time, knowing that I can submit to it, that I'm safe to do so with him. Our sexual exploration is going addictively well and each day I'm becoming increasingly eager to figure out all the ways to make him come.

The carnal desire to mark him, claim him, fill him with my essence is something I can't fight anymore, and I do it, my hips falter with sloppy thrust until they still. I come inside him, clinging to his back, wrapping my hands around his waist, letting the promises of forever slip from my mouth into the shell of his ear. He's a fucked-out mess as much as I am, but he didn't come yet and I pull myself together quickly, slowly slip out from him, and turn him around.

His pretty face is all flushed, cheeks cherry-red, eyes are almost watery, begging for more, and I drop to my knees on that kitchen floor and take his length in my mouth. He's struggling to steady himself, gripping the edge of the worktop, legs shaking trying to maintain that last bit of sanity. I give it my all, eager to taste him. As my come slowly dribbles from his hole down his taint, balls and inside of his thighs the fire in the pit of my stomach ignites again and I moan around his dick in awe of the intoxicating display—and he's there, he's coming down my throat.

Nico's hands reach for me, bringing me up so we're face to face, just watching me in silence as we're both trying to catch our breath. He strokes my wet, used lips with his thumb and he finally closes the distance and kisses me, willingly accepting his warm cum mixed with my spit, as our tongues intertwine.

And this is my reality now. No wonder I've got my heart-shaped rose-coloured glasses on since the day Nico and I vowed to not see other people. I feel lucky to wake up next to him on most mornings and talk to him for what seems hours on days when my commitments take me out of town and it's so easy to forget about simple and obvious problems that are looming over our relationship when blowjobs and rimmjobs and sex without condoms are a daily occurrence.

The issue of going out in public with him personally doesn't worry me, these kinds of things can only affect insecure people who don't trust each other. And I know he trusts me when I reason that our coming out would do us more harm than good simply because we're too young to handle that kind of pressure. Some things are just bigger than people. I believe him too when he says that he doesn't need validation of our relationship from people who don't know us personally. He is trying to live in a real world, where it's the two of us who matter, not strangers who hide behind avatars online.

But the day when I'm having my family over in Madrid for one of the most important match days in my career and Marc is there with Sonya my views somehow start changing.

I don't know why I'm surprised when I find out Sonya is coming with Marc—I might be pretending that my sister is not actually married to my boyfriend's brother, but when Nico sends me a warning message that he's coming to my apartment with Marc and Sonya and that he couldn't avoid it, well then I start feeling like things are really not that perfect after all.

Why wouldn't Marc visit his brother when he is in town? Why wouldn't he ask him to come along to dinner at my place, we're all family after all? I know Nico tried to get out of it for my sake but since the whole situation with Sofia, Marc was trying to be more present in Nico's life, and he'd insist on spending more time with his younger brother.

"I can't believe you guys live in the same city and don't actually hang out?" Marc says after passing the salad bowl to my mum, but looks at me and then Nico. I stuff my mouth with some vegetables instead of responding.

"I don't think Jordan likes going clubbing, Marc," Nico responds easily, teasing smile across his face.

"But you're not going clubbing that much anymore either," Marc frowns. "Whenever we Facetime nowadays, you're home doing stuff for your blog or watching Netflix."

Yeah, lots of Netflix and chill. The rousing prickles of nerves fill my body as the vivid memories of our fucking resurfaces. There was no chill during our Netflix times, or Netflix for that matter, I think to myself but manage not to look at Nico's face because I would recognize that knowing smirk.

I'm suspiciously quiet now, I know, but I can't seem to get it together with all the thoughts and images in my mind, all involving Nico. Because no matter how quick and dirty and primal it sometimes gets, it's more than sex, it's intimacy and caring and loving. Yes, we haven't said the words yet but it's what it is. He is my boyfriend now, a first real relationship but I have to sit here and pretend that I didn't kiss this boy senseless the day before or that the sweatshirt he's wearing currently isn't mine. It is downright wrong. The urge to sit next to him or joke around like we usually do is almost unbearable.

"I'm sure we would hang out if I wasn't that busy," I mumble into my chin, still looking at my plate, drowning in the awkwardness I'm radiating.

"Jay, we're all really proud of you for all your achievements, you know that, but don't forget to have fun as well, okay?" Sonya chimes in. "I'm sure Nico can show you a good time?"

Nico doesn't speak but the sound he makes is something between a choke and a snort and I instantly look up, ready to prevent whatever sarcastic comment he's about to make. He remains quiet, the way his eyes stare back at me— I think he knows what's on my mind. Making innuendos and sneaking secret glances during the evening dinner could be fun except it's not. I rarely, almost never lie to my parents or sister and I always pride myself on being honest, always truthful. The only time I did was when Nico came to London, but that was easy because I didn't have to look them in the eyes when I told them I'm sleeping at my friend's place.

Now, they're right in front of me, asking stupid questions about girlfriends and how being popular will get me so much more opportunities with girls. I honestly don't really know their thoughts on queerness except the fact that my dad's favourite musicians are Freddy Mercury and Elton John but whatever it is it doesn't bother me— I'm not scared of coming out to them. What I'm scared of is telling them that from all the boys in the world I had to pick the one from my sister's husband's family. The one that would bring scandal to their front door when the media finds out. The one that would have definitive consequences on my football contract, the same contract that took us all out of the shitty neighbourhood and got them a big new house they always deserved for being the most amazing, supporting parents.

So it breaks my heart to lie to them but it would break me more to burst the bubble they're currently living in.

Knowing how terrible of a liar I am Nico tries to change the subject whenever the spotlight is on me with topics of potential Spanish girls I should be entertaining. I silently thank him and promise myself to give him the most mind-blowing blow job after they all leave. I've gotten so much better at those now if the very short time that takes Nico to come lately is any reference.