“It’s okay,” Jude said, racing right up to Nally and grasping his face in his hands. “Everything is okay. Everything is more than okay, and I really mean it this time.”
“What—”
Jude didn’t let him get any farther. He slammed is mouth over Nally’s, kissing him so hard he made himself groan. Nally was startled at first, but quickly joined in with the kiss. Jude threaded his fingers through Nally’s hair, kissing him over and over, harder and harder, thrusting his tongue into Nally’s mouth. Nally lost his balance and grabbed Jude, who pitched forward slightly, causing Nally to sit hard on the piano.
The discordant clash of notes was exactly what Jude needed to stop his frenzy of romantic excitement from getting out of control. He inched back enough to look into Nally’s eyes while still clinging to him. “I figured it out,” he said.
“That’s what you said, but I’m still in the dark,” Nally panted. “But I wouldn’t mind kissing you again before you tell me what’s going on.”
Jude laughed, then leaned into Nally, forcing himself to kiss him slower and deeper.
It was exactly what he needed. Focusing on the two of them and the heat between them settled and calmed him, like it always did. Maybe that was another aspect to the chaos they’d created between the two of them, too. They made each other so much calmer, but they only got the satisfaction of feeling that way if they were worked up first.
“I’ve figured it out,” Jude gasped once they were calm and wrapped up in each other. “We’ve already been a couple for ages, just like everyone has always assumed we are.”
“I know, I know,” Nally said, a hint of stress in his expression. “It would have been nice for us to know that.”
Jude laughed and shook his head. “We did know that. We’ve known it forever.”
“Forever? Are you sure?” Nally asked.
“Yes,” Jude said definitively. “But we needed something, we needed a sign, a starter’s pistol, a whistle blow, something to wake us up to what’s been true all along.”
Nally jerked back slightly and gave Jude the side-eye. “We’re not that oblivious, are we? And what sign or whistle did we need?”
“Yes, we are,” Jude laughed. “And because it’s us, and you know how we are, we needed the panic to see the truth.”
“No.” Nally shook his head, resting his hands on Jude’s hips. “We are not so ridiculous that we need to freak out about our relationship in order to know it exists.” He froze and his eyes went wide. “Fuck. We need to freak out about our relationship to know it exists.”
Jude laughed. He’d never felt so much joy in his life. He and Nally were so unforgivably awkward, but at least they were awkward together.
“That’s fucked up,” Nally said, laughing along with Jude.
“I think, my dear boy,” Jude said in his online voice, “fucked up is what we do.”
“Because it’s us,” Nally said.
“Because it’s us,” Jude repeated.
Nally tugged him forward, and they grabbed at each other again, kissing and drinking each other in. It felt so right that Jude might never forgive himself for ever thinking it was or could be wrong. Nally was his and he was Nally’s and nothing was more natural than the two of them kissing and touching each other. Didn’t they touch each other all the time anyhow?
“I think we should mark this moment by going up to my flat and fucking until we pass out,” Nally whispered when they stopped for breath.
“I think that sounds like an excellent idea,” Jude answered rocking back and pulling Nally away from the piano. “We have a lot of practicing to do before we’re both competently vers.”
Nally laughed.
A second later, that laughter died on his lips and Jude’s smile vanished as he turned around and saw Quentin standing in the studio doorway. The man looked furious. More frightening than that, he carried a black bag with him and had a roll of duct tape around his wrist.
“Get your hands off my man, you filthy cheat,” Quentin growled, stepping into the studio and slamming the door behind him so hard the frosted glass in the windowpane rattled. “It’s time you both learn your lesson about who Nally belongs to.”
NINETEEN
Nally had never knownanything close to the kind of fear that stole his breath as an angry Quentin walked toward him and Jude. He looked beyond furious or jealous, he looked deranged.
“You’re not allowed to be here,” Nally said, raising a hand and trying to be strong. His voice quavered, though, and he felt like his knees might give out. That was supposed to just be a cliché. Discovering that the sensation was all too real was horrific. “I don’t want anything to do with you,” he tried again when Quentin didn’t stop.
“You’re mine,” Quentin insisted. “You always have been, since the day I first heard your beautiful music. You’ll always be mine.”
