The Queer Principles of Kit Webb

by Cat Sebastian

Percy tried to remember the last time he had been someone’s first in this way, and thought it was probably when he was still at school. In all likelihood, he had been careless and ignorant, and he didn’t want to be that way with Kit. He wanted to take care, wanted to make this good, wanted to make it something Kit would feel good about when he remembered it. He whispered praise and gentle instruction into Kit’s neck and only after a while did he realize he was speaking in the way Kit had during their fighting lessons. “You sure you don’t want to get on the floor?” Percy asked when he had another finger inside Kit. “Can’t,” Kit breathed. “My leg. Oh fuck. Please, Percy, just do it.” Percy slicked himself up and tugged Kit’s hips back to make him bend at the waist a little. Then he pressed the head of his cock against Kit’s entrance. Kit went tense—of course he did, Percy had been expecting that—but then visibly forced himself to relax. Percy moved slowly, slower than he had ever done anything in his life. And he kept talking, coaxing and soothing Kit through it. He couldn’t help it, even though he knew Kit was going to laugh at him later for not being able to shut his mouth. He told Kit how good he felt, how gorgeous he was, how well he was taking it, how much he wished Kit could see. Kit’s palms were flat against the wall, his fingers curled as if looking for something to hold. Percy put his own hands over Kit’s, lacing their fingers together. When Percy was fully seated, ...