“Yes, Sir.”
With that, Beckett pressed his mouth to mine. Our lips crashed hungrily, teeth nibbling each other’s lips. Something in my soul settled, knowing I had made the right choice.
The kiss was over too soon, leaving both of us breathless. Beckett pulled back enough to make me see the pure lust and desire of things we’d get to explore. Then, he turned me to look at Noah, who stood and opened his mouth.
“Someone’s been left out.”
The boy in question simply nodded so fast, that he almost gave himself whiplash.
“Would you like to show Asher how much he should stay the night again?”
“Please.” Noah whimpered.
When Beckett permitted him, Noah’s lips crashed to mine, holding me hostage as much as the rest of him did. His hands were everywhere at once.
“Wanna worship you.” Somehow, he was able to talk between the kissing. I had nowhere I could go, as Beckett still held onto my hair, keeping me right where he wanted.
I didn’t want it any other way.
“We will worship each other. We’ll show love and strength. And we’ll do so many things.”
I melted right there into a puddle of...well whatever the heck I was. I was nothing, yet something to these two. And I was willing to let it ride out.
Epilogue
Once upon a time, I hated life. I dreaded the feel of hands on my skin, or demands ordered. I loathed the feeling of kneeling before a man, knowing what was to come.
That was before. Now, I didn’t. Now, I crave to feel certain hands on me. I lusted after an older man. And I loved my best friend.
I didn’t have to try to hide my feelings any longer. I didn’t have to worry about being looked at like I was crazy because I wanted some things, but couldn’t stand others.
I was a complicated man. But I knew without a doubt who I was.
I was once an abused boy, lost to this world. Now, I was found with a great family and two people who loved me more than they loved themselves.
I wore my scars with pride. I wore my emotions on my sleeve these days, too.
I didn’t have to be strong; I didn’t have to pretend that I was able to hold my life in my own hands.
If someone asked me what freedom meant to me, I wouldn’t have been able to answer months ago. But today, I could.
Freedom was finding love. Freedom was finding peace to be who I wanted to be without fear.
Fear no longer had a place in my life. Or my heart.
That beating organ was back together in one giant piece, forever and ever. I never wanted to feel a broken heart again.
I was no longer a shattered piece of human, my parts scattered and simply taped together like a puzzle. I was finally complete, the edges only slightly fayed from the struggles of life. But I was together. That was more than I ever thought I’d be.
“Is that the last thing?” Noah asked, coming out of the bathroom with the last bag of stuff from under the sink.
“I think so.”
This would be the last time I stood in the apartment. I hadn’t been spending all that much time here in the last couple of months, and now it was official. I was moving in with Beckett, and in turn Noah.
That latter had refused to move all the way into his Daddy’s house until I chose to do so, too. He worried I’d feel left out, or sad, or anything else that wasn’t good. I tried to tell Noah I was fine on my own from time to time. I enjoyed it, even.
“Are you going to miss it here?”
