The word ‘unworthy’ plays on repeat in my head.
I hate crying; I always have. To some people, it’s cathartic, but it just makes me feel worse about myself, like I’m overreacting. So many people have it worse, and I feel like I shouldn’t be this upset, or let what happened to me fester inside.
“Den, please tell me what’s wrong. Was it something I did or said? I didn’t mean to upset you. One minute we’re laughing and the next… Talk to me.”
“I don’t know,” I say, my voice muffled with my mouth pressed into his shirt. Maybe I do know, but my mind is a swirling tornado of emotions. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly what’s really bothering me, or if I’m just so overwhelmed with relief that Mike finally kissed me. This moment should’ve been righting my wrongness, but instead, I just feel more lost than ever.
He exhales, his breath blowing through my hair, as he rests his chin on my head, his bulky arms pulling me even closer. “It’s okay. I’m here. There’s no rush.”
We hold each other like that for who knows how long. Time doesn’t exist, like the universe is taking a pause just for us. His heart beating against my ear is rhythmic and soothing, reminding me of the realness of it all. That he’s really here, and he actually kissed me. That it wasn’t one of my fantasies or a dream.
“I fucking regret dating Geoff,” I finally say. “Not just because he cheated on me, but I feel…” Mike’s fingers gently curl through my hair, letting me get my words out without interruption. He makes me feel… heard. “I feel cheated out of my first kiss. It should’ve been you. Youshould’ve been my first. It belongs to you, and instead, he owns it when he never deserved it.”
He sighs against me. “God, Den… I’m so, so sorry. I wish I could go back in time and remedy that. I wish I could’ve been your first, too, and instead I fucking ran.”
I wipe my damp face on his shirt and sit up straight. Mike gently cups my face, his brows knitted so low over his eyes, checking to see if I’m okay. “Forgive me,” he says before dropping his hands to rest on my hips.
“I’m not upset with you. I’m upset with myself. There’s nothing to forgive, Mike. Nothing. If I’d just waited…” I shake my head. “I could’ve saved myself a lot of agony had I waited. What’s one more year after loving you for almost ten of them? God, just thinking about the time…”
He smiles softly and brushes away some stray bangs. “But why would you assume anything would change? I don’t fault you for trying to move on. And talk about regrets. Look how long it took me to recognize it’s been you all along. It’s always been you. You’re so special, Den. No one makes me feel the way you do. I just wish I’d recognized that way sooner.”
I look down and grab one of his hands, playing with his thick fingers. They’re so much bigger than mine. His hands are strong and made to build remarkable things. They’re calloused, showing the world how hard he works. “I’m grateful for this moment, but… I’m afraid, too.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“You,” I admit. “I’ve wanted you for so long. Sometimes I feel like something’s wrong with me for pining over you for so long. I’m sure most people would’ve moved on. But now that I have my chance, I worry you’ll walk away, or even worse…” I squeeze his hand, touching him, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that he’s real. “Even worse, you’ll realize that being with a man isn’t for you. I’d rather just keep you as a friend than have you… turn away.”
A fierceness moves across his face. “No, I’d never… Den, I’m in this with you.” He curses under his breath. “Shit, I’m not explaining this right.” He yanks his hand from mine before he’s cupping my face again. “Ever since you got back from college, I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind. Kissing you just now… All the doubts that I’ve lived with for so long, feeling like there was something wrong with me... They’re gone now. The rightness of being here with you, like this.” He shakes his head. “I’m not saying this doesn’t blow my mind, Den. I know what this means. Intimacy... with a guy. But it doesn’t scare me. Not one bit. I’m not here to treat you like some experiment. You meanwaymore to me than that. You’re… everything. I’d be a fool to walk away from you a second time.”
I want to believe him. I know he’s not lying to me, but when things get real, there’s a chance he’ll realize he can’t do it. If he does that, it’ll fucking wreck me. But I also know I’ll risk my heart because it’s him, the other half of my soul. What an idiot I’ve been, believing I could ever let him go and move on.
“Den…believeme. Trust me. I know it’s hard to trust after what you’ve been through, but—”
“Jeez, Mike. If I trust anyone in this world, it’s you.”
“Then…” Anticipation and hope, I think, wash across his face.
“Can we kiss again?” I ask, begging him with my eyes.
“God, please…” He lets out a stuttered breath.
While our first kiss tonight was more tentative, it’s like we both feel more at home for our second one. As if we feel the need to just let go, exploring the taste and feel of the other. It starts tender, then grows heated as we get to know each other in a new and different way. His growing scruff chafes my skin deliciously, marking it, ensuring I’ll stillfeel his kiss later. His lips are soft, and I suckle his plump bottom one. When he opens his mouth, I waste no time swiping my tongue inside.
His fingers dig into my hips, tugging at me as my hand wraps around his neck, sliding through his silky hair, pulling him closer to me. Moving on instinct, letting need guide us, we tilt our heads as we deepen the kiss. Everything that’s been bothering me vanishes as I get lost in Mike’s scent and touch.
God, my heart is beating so hard and fast, my hands are clammy, and my stomach is rioting with butterflies. It’s sensory overload. My cock takes notice, swelling in my shorts.
A part of me wants to see. I want to pull away and look down to see if Mike is reacting as I am, but I don’t want to sever this connection I’ve craved for so long. I never want us to stop kissing, but I know I have to eventually.
We keep kissing as if making up for lost years. I’m brought back through time and space to the day I told him I loved him. Instead of him walking away, he kisses me back.
When we finally pull away, we’re both gasping for air, our chests heaving, our lips glistening with saliva. His face is a little red from my scruff, as I’m sure mine is, too.
This moment doesn’t fix all my broken pieces, but I feel more whole than I have for the past several months. A little bit of me has healed. Mike has always been my world. He’s sat on a pedestal for so long, and it’s always been me looking up. Now, we’re facing each other as equals.
“Do you know what else I want to do?” he asks, looking shy and ruffled, his lips a breath away, air ghosting my face.
“What?”
