Not.
It’s not really that simple, and I know it. Otherwise, I’d have done it years ago.
Right?
I hold my breath for another moment, my heart pounding in my chest. Then I grip his shirt tighter, and I blurt out, “I-I like you. I’m gay, a-and I like you. And this isn’t all I want. I want more.” There. I said it instead. Now he can freak out and kick me out and— “Fuck. Sorry. Dammit.”
I pull away, scooting off of him and turning toface the wall. A tear slips down my cheek, and I reach up to wipe it away as I shrink into myself, my chest tight. I don’t know why the fuck I said that. I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have said it, and I shouldn’t even be here, in bed with him, taking all this comfort he’s giving me without anything to give him in return.
I’m such a fucking asshole.
Another tear slides down my cheek, but I ignore it this time.
The silence behind me is terrifying, and I’m about to excuse myself and figure out how to crawl out of bed around him when the mattress shifts. He gets up, and I hear his footsteps as he moves quietly toward the door.
Then there’s a click as he locks it.
A few seconds later, he crawls back into bed, and he scoots up right behind me.
“Nico, can I hold you again?” he asks, his voice a low whisper that sounds even less sure than I feel.
Something stirs in my chest, though, as I realize what he’s asking me.
I nod, and as his arm slips around me, pulling me up against him, a tiny whimper escapes my throat. God, what the fuck is happening now?
My back is flush against his chest, in the same position we’ve been cuddling in and sleeping in all weekend, and he does that thing that makes me feel so good where he nuzzles the back of my neck. I close my eyes and let out a long, shuddering sigh.
“This is okay? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he says quietly, his breath warm on my neck. When I nod, he squeezes me gently, murmuring “good,” and I hold myself as still as possible as he starts talking softly. “I-I’m bisexual. And, um, I... I like you, too. I’ve liked you for a long time, I was just too scared to tell you. You’re my best friend, and I was scared, you know?”
I hear him swallow nervously, and his hand caresses lightlydown my chest to my stomach. I’m still too fucking terrified to respond or even let myself think about what he just said. And I’m not sure how the hell he can act so calm.
I move my hand to cover his, and he sucks in a breath and presses his forehead into me.
“I’ve been wanting to tell you,” he continues. “But with everything going on, there was never a good time, and...”
“...and things kept getting more complicated?” I finish for him.
He nods. “Yeah. Yeah, for sure.” He pauses, and I can feel the uncertainty in his next words. “Um... did you really mean what you said? Do you really want more? Withme?”
Here’s where I should lie.
I’m a broken, worthless piece of shit, and he deserves so much better than anything I could ever give him or anything I’ve ever given him. I should pull away, make up some lame excuse, and then go get ready for work. I should probably pack up my shit, too, because I’m sure I’ve overstayed my welcome here.
But I don’t do that.
Instead, I lie there in his arms, tense and unsure, trying to figure out how to respond.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Alex says quietly after another moment. He’s still holding me, his hand now unmoving on my stomach.
I shake my head. “You didn’t. I’m just... I’m scared,” I admit, though I don’t tell him exactly what I’m scared about.
There’s a touch on my neck that feels different than before. Warm and soft and pliant, brushing gently along my skin. I only realize it’s his lips when he hums against me. He starts to move his hand a little lower, and I moan quietly, pressing my head into my pillow as I feel the tiniest tease of his fingertips on my stomach, curling up under the hem of my shirt. He pauses.
“Is this okay?” he breathes, his lips still against my neck. “I’ve wanted to touch you for so long.”
My cock stirs at his words, despite all the reservations and guilt I still have, and when his lips part and his hot, wet tongue touches my neck, I groan with want. I twist around in his arms, and his hand slips under my shirt, smoothing along my waist and then my lower back. One of my legs comes up over the top of his, and he responds by sliding his knee between my thighs.
“Holy fuck,” I hiss.
