"I dunno about blowjobs being better," he countered. "Excellent, yes, but maybe not better. Just different." Of course, Fisher had experience on his side. James did not. Though if James preferred bjs to vaginas, then maybe buttsex would be the same way.
When James turned to face Fisher, he was certain that his brain had simply stopped. The moment seemed to last forever, an eternity lost in those blue eyes. When James reached toward Fisher, his heart just about leapt into his throat. 'Nervous' did not come close to his state of being. He watched James turn away, watched him drink the clear liquid and wondered, for just a second, if James was trying to get as drunk as possibly so he could forget the entire question before he laid back down.
Fisher got up, crawling across the bed toward James. He knelt before him, sitting on his feet, waiting. EVen now, even in a moment of such severity, such intensity, James couldn't be serious. Fisher cracked a smile, giggled nervously. "You sure about this?" he teased. "You know what they say: Once you go emo... lots of people are going to ask what's the matter with you."
Slowly, carefully, Fisher reached out, sliding his hand around the back of James' neck. He leaned in, trying to keep eye contact but finding it too insanely intense. So he closed his eyes, tilted his head slightly, took one last breath, and kissed.