Student parties usually go the same way – loud, sweaty, and too ostentatious. You could see how a girl you know from your English literature history class was lowering the neckline of her blouse lower, moving towards the captain of the college football team. And the guy was too busy drunkenly laughing at his teammate's vulgar joke.

Cheesy, that's the perfect word to describe a party celebrating the victory of a football team in regional competitions. Johnny, Simon's best friend and also the team's goalkeeper, was basking in the glory and drinking, as it seemed to you, his fourth bottle of beer. You looked at Simon, like you were asking if his best friend was okay. Simon just shrugged, having learned how to read your mind just by looking at you.

You were the kind that many people portray in teen movies about love. Perfect. Met at a shared class and played friendship for almost a year before Simon dared to ask you out. Were you happy? Well, considering how much you screamed into your pillow when you walked into the dorm after that very date, you could say yes.

"I thought ya needed time." Simon said, mentioning that he knew perfectly well that his crush on you was mutual.

Time? No. Now that a little over a year has passed since the beginning of your official relationship, you could safely say that you regretted that you had not taken the first step. Because then you'd spend more time with him, openly holding his hand instead of blushing when he looked into your eyes for more than seven seconds. Every second you spent with Simon seemed precious to you. And to him? He thought the same.

You both ended up in his dorm room, leaving Johnny to continue having fun. Sitting on his bed, you discussed what you saw, laughing at the clumsiness of that girl trying to get the guy's attention, and how much it smelled like sweat.

"I thought the period of not knowing about the existence of deodorant was over." You said.

"Me too. But apparently, ain't nobody thinks with their brains back there."

You snorted at his joke and he smiled and then pulled you into a kiss. The soft touch of his lips, the pleasant feeling of the warmth of his chest under your palm. Your legs were intertwined, and now you were sitting on his lap, and, moving even higher, you felt a bump in the area of his fly.

"Sorry, that's..." Simon broke the kiss, breathing heavily into your neck.

You knew how he reacted to you. It was impossible not to know. But you were nervous when the topic of discussion turned to intimacy. You had no experience, you imagined everything only in theory, your virgin brain was giving you scenarios of pain and discomfort. But Simon never pushed you, saying that everything would happen when you were ready, and not a second earlier.

"Wait, I..." You whispered softly and lowered your hand, covering the fly of his jeans.

Interest. That's what it was. The interest to make love to someone you trust so much and feel happy with.

Perhaps the moment has come. You wanted your first time to be with Simon.