“They’re such great guys—my best friends,” Harlow murmured. His semi-rigid cock brushed against Simon’s, teasing him to a greater state of arousal. “But today, while I was out with them, even though I was having the time of my life, I realized something.”
“Mm?” Simon was afraid to speak—he didn’t want to disrupt Harlow for fear he might stop kissing him.
“I was excited to go home. I was excited to get back toyou.”
There was a chance that Simon had fallen asleep—that this was all a vivid dream. Locked away in a crappy but expensive apartment, at the mercy of circumstance, he’d never expected any of this. Life had trapped him, and he’d expected to be stuck caring for his brother and nephew until Shep was of age and moved out, and Jayne found his footing and left for greener pastures. A man like Harlow had only ever been in his dreams, not the final plan.
But here he was, and with him in the picture, Simon’s life had begun to change in ways that, a week ago, would have been unimaginable.
“H…”
“I want to get to know you better, Simon.” Simon, not Kid. Simon closed his eyes and did his best to calm his racing heart. “I want to figure out what’s going on in that brilliant mind of yours. I want to be there to hear you laugh, to see you succeed, and to help you achieve your wildest dreams. I haven’t felt like that about anyone in a very long time.”
Harlow kissed along the line of his jaw. Simon had neglected to shave, and Harlow stirred the small, coarse stubble that stuck close to his skin.
“It’s fucking crazy,” Harlow murmured. He kept Simon’s hands pinned, narrowing Simon’s focus to the way their bodies fit perfectly together despite the difference in their size. “It’s so fucking crazy to feel this way so soon, to want you like I do, but I can’t help it. I’m not the kind of guy who falls in love with a pretty face, or who’s charmed into bed by batted eyelashes. I’m more serious than that. So I know that when I feel this way, it has to be real. There has to besomethingmore. And today, being apart from you, it hit me hard. Imissedyou. And that’s…” Harlow chuckled. “That’s really something. You’re really something special.”
For years, Simon had turned to Harlow as masturbation fodder. He’d spent hours with fantasy-Harlow between the sheets, and come with him hundreds of times. But to hear Harlow speak such tender words—to know he was adored—struck Simon deeper than any midnight romp had.
Harlowwantedhim.
How?
The light at the end of the tunnel hadn’t appeared as a pinprick on the horizon and approached slowly—the tunnel itself had caved in and crashed down around him, showering him in light he hadn’t known to expect and liberty he’d forgotten existed beyond its walls. Harlow had set him free.
Somewhere along the way, their bodies had stilled. Simon hadn’t noticed it happen. It wasn’t the way Harlow brushed against his cock that mattered—his words had sucked Simon in.
“And…” Harlow sounded hesitant now. For a man so certain and sure of himself, it was jarring, and it captured Simon’s attention fully. “When I give my body, I give my heart. It’s the way I am—I don’t make commitments I don’t intend to keep. But it means that I’m lost when it comes to love. I’mrusty.If I make a mistake, I hope you can forgive me.”
“You haven’t made a mistake yet,” Simon whispered. Despite his best attempts to regulate his pulse, his heart refused to listen—it beat a hundred miles a minute, and only sped up whenever Simon tried to hold it down.
Love.
Harlow had saidlove.
“You’re the one that I want, Simon.” Harlow kissed his chin, a gesture that would have otherwise seemed ordinary or unusual, but in that moment was sweet beyond belief. Simon ached for his touch, his lips, his mind. Did they have to sleep tonight? If Harlow would stay up and touch him like this forever, if he’d continue to say such lovely things, Simon would never sleep again. “You’re the one who found his way into my heart, and you’re the one I want to stay there.”
“Harlow?” Simon’s voice wavered. He opened his eyes, his heart set to burst.
“I fucking love you, Kid.” Harlow chuckled, quiet and heartfelt, like nothing was more natural. “I love you. I know that it’s early, and I know that you probably don’t feel the same way, but I had to say it. I had to tell you. I learned a long time ago that if you love someone, youtellthem, because you never know if you’ll get the chance again.”
“It’s not…” Simon swallowed the words he’d wanted to say, favoring others. “I’m… I…”
Why couldn’t he speak? Simple syllables, basic words, and yet, nothing. His tongue was tied, his vocal cords petrified.
Not this time. Not now.
Harlow deserved better from him.
“It’s okay,” Harlow whispered. There was a smile in his words, so full and bright that there was no room for disappointment. “I know it’s a lot to take in. I don’t blame you for freaking out. I’m going to go back on the couch, okay? Give you some space. I’m glad you—”
“No.” Simon choked out the word, forcing through the paralysis of his racing mind and overclocked heart. “Don’t go. It’s not… it’s not okay.” With each word, Simon gained strength. For too long, he’d let happenstance dictate the outcome of his life. He’d sat idly while Jayne decided he’d stay at home with Shep, and he’d accepted without argument that he’d be Parker’s nanny. This time, he wouldn’t stay quiet. He wouldn’t let silence dictate his fate. “Ilove you, Harlow. I love you, and I need to say it. I need to tell you, too. And I’m so—”
Harlow took his hand from Simon’s palm and slid it down the side of his face, discovering him by touch. His thumb traced over Simon’s lips. Then, with incredible care, he tilted his head to the side and kissed Simon so softly, Simon wanted to cry. The angle was unnatural, but the kiss was real. Delicate. Incredible.
Simon’s broken pieces wouldn’t interfere—not his voice, not his nose, not his mind. What they shared in that kiss transcended physicality. It was love in its purest form—honest, soulful, kind.
“No sorries,” Harlow whispered against Simon’s lips when the kiss finally broke. Tears streamed down the sides of Simon’s face, soaking his pillowcase. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about. Do you know how beautiful love is? How brave? How stunning? Never apologize for feeling like that. For as long as you have it, and for as long as it’s yours, I want you to cherish it. Don’t ever let a day go by where you hide it away from the world—life is too short to be shameful of what you feel.”
One day, Simon would wake up and realize that this was all a dream—that Evie had never sneaked into the Biernacki apartment, and that Harlow had never come in pursuit of her. The things Harlow said were too wonderful to be real. But the longer this odyssey went on, the less ground Simon had to believe that it was a product of his imagination. Not even in his wildest dreams was his subconscious capable of summoning such beauty. Over the last few years, his mind had been such a desolate place that it wasn’t possible.
It couldn’t be.
To be loved, to be cared for, to be cherished…
“I’m not ashamed.” Simon closed his eyes, but tears continued to streak down the sides of his face. The statement was multifaceted, nuanced in ways he didn’t think Harlow could ever know. Simon wasn’t ashamed of him, but more than that, he wasn’t ashamed of himself. Not anymore. The pain, the fear, and the struggle had all been a part of his journey. The grief he’d carried, and still carried, after his parents’ death was a part of him for now, but he didn’t have to let himself be defined by it. In ways both big and small, Harlow had held a mirror up to his situation, shown him his weaknesses, and allowed him to take control.
Old paint peeled, then flaked and fell away. For Harlow, he was vibrant. For himself, he would be beautiful.
