For the first time since the conversation started, Shiloh’s lips twitched in an aborted smile. “Kissing situation?”
Levi fell backwards, high-kicking over Shiloh’s head so he could lie down flat, dragging Shiloh down with him and rearranging him like a doll until they were face to face. “Yes, the kissing situation,” he said, dropping a kiss on Shiloh’s nose as if to make a point.
Shiloh blinked rapidly at him. “There doesn’t have to be a kissing situation. I’m not a charity case.”
Levi snorted. “You were the one acting like you were falling on your sword.” Levi broke into a smile. “Or my sword, I guess.”
Shiloh’s mouth twitched, cheeks quivering as he tried not to laugh, but he couldn’t hold it. Giggles erupted from his pretty swollen lips, his eyes sparkling. This was the first time Levi had heard Shiloh truly laugh, the first time he’d even gotten a genuine smile. Levi’s eyes roamed his face, trying to commit every feature to memory.
That was when Levi saw them. Whatever face Levi was making stopped Shiloh in his tracks. “What?” he asked, pressing a hand to his face.
“You…You have dimples,” Levi said, his hand reaching up of its own accord to poke at one of them.
Shiloh frowned. “O-kay?”
Levi flushed, giving a nervous chuckle. “Nothing. They’re just… I just never noticed.”
“Is that bad?” Shiloh asked, his palm cupping the place where Levi had just poked him.
Levi wrapped a hand around the back of Shiloh’s neck, drawing him in. Their mouths fit together like puzzle pieces, Shiloh’s plush top lip fitting perfectly between Levi’s. He let himself have this, have him, their mouths moving together lazily, his tongue licking inside. Shiloh gripped Levi’s shirt as he swallowed his tiny little moan. Finally, he forced himself to pull back, the sound of their lips parting gunshot loud.
He cupped Shiloh’s cheek. “No, it’s not bad. It’s good.We’regood. You’re just so fucking pretty.” Shiloh started to protest but Levi cut him off with another kiss. “Bruises and all.”
Shiloh fell silent, cheeks pink. “Oh.”
Levi smacked one final kiss to his lips. “Get some sleep, Dimples. We’ll talk in the morning.”
“Okay,” Shiloh nodded, eyelids fluttering shut.
Levi didn’t sleep until Shiloh’s breathing slowed, evening out. He just laid there, drinking him in.
Levi needed to tell Shiloh about his own fucked-up family. If anyone would understand, it was him.
Levi scooted a bit closer, but not close enough to touch. He closed his eyes, letting the fog of sleep start to creep in on him.
He’d tell Shiloh tomorrow. Maybe that would help the other boy see that they were equals in every way. He needed him to understand him. He needed him to see all flaws and baggage and want him anyway. It felt like Shiloh could be that for him.
When consciousness faded, Levi had a smile on his face.
Shiloh spent the next twenty minutes studying every line on Levi’s face, just in case. His fingers itched to reach out and touch him. He looked so soft when he slept, and no amount of tattoos or piercings would change that. He looked almost like a little boy. Shiloh nearly choked when he considered how tired they both appeared when awake and existing in the world.
Life shouldn’t be this fucking hard all the time, should it? He didn’t know the full extent of what Levi had experienced, but it was clear from his bitter response to Shiloh’s past that he had his own trauma. It wasn’t fair. Neither of them had asked to be there. Why did everything have to hurt? Why did fucking living have to hurt so bad?
When Levi’s chest started to rise and fall in a rhythm, Shiloh found himself stalling. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to leave him. How stupid was that? He was a stranger. A total stranger. But leaving him felt like cutting a much-needed lifeline. Like stabbing a hole in the life raft keeping him adriftin the middle of turbulent seas. He smiled miserably as tears welled in his eyes. He was so stupid.
He rolled his weight back and forth, testing to see if Levi stirred. Nothing. Levi must have some trust for Shiloh to sleep so peacefully beside him. A trust Shiloh would betray. He wiped at the hot tears leaking from his eyes against his will. He waited another five minutes, then slid from the bed.
He dressed quickly and quietly, heart in his throat, eyes never leaving Levi’s sleeping form. He picked up the gun and slid it into his back pocket. He needed to be fast about this, before Levi woke and realized what was happening. But he found himself dragging his feet anyway. He went back to the bed, kneeling beside it, resting his cheek on his crossed arms as he drank Levi in one final time.
Levi was the pretty one. So pretty. The kind of pretty that stopped people in their tracks.
Shiloh’s eyes burned with unshed tears. He didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to go back to that place. Back to Micah. He wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all. After all these years, there was finally someone who was saying everything he wanted to hear, someone practically begging to rescue him from his life, but he couldn’t do it.
Because rescuing himself meant sacrificing Mal, and while Mal would have fully supported Shiloh choosing himself, he couldn’t do that to the only person who had ever loved him. He just couldn’t. He’d die first.
Shiloh forced himself to his feet, feeling like he was walking through molasses as he took the few short steps to the door. He had his hand on the knob when he spotted it. A pad of sticky notes and a group of markers in a plastic cup. He stared at it for a long moment, then hurried to it, grabbing a thick green Sharpie and a hot pink square of paper, writing:
I CAN’T STAY. HE’LL HURT MAL. I’M REALLY SORRY. PLEASE DON’T HATE ME.
