A video with a time stamp over an hour long catches my eye. I frown. The thumbnail looks like it was from our first collab alone at the cabin, but that video wasn’t an hour long when we posted it to Fanboy. Maybe thirty minutes, at most. Why is this one so long?
Opening the video, I’m overwhelmed by a swell of emotion as I see us together in our most intimate form, and I don’t think I’m ready to watch this yet. Scanning ahead, I skip to nearly the end of the video, after we’ve both finished and he’s lying curled up in my side.
My attention is rapt as I watch us together, the way he was clearly so submissive to me in his body language, even that early on. I listen as we talk about tattoos, and the way Luke describes his love for the desert as something he can relate to because he felt so dry and desolate himself at the time. The Luke I’m watching on my phone and the one who was in my living room tonight are like night and day. The Luke I saw tonight was still vulnerable and soft, but there’s a confidence to him now that wasn’t there before. He always seemed confident to me at thetime, but I wonder now how I didn’t recognize it for the front that it was.
I’m suddenly curious what his latest work is like. Does it reflect that confidence? Did he ever let anyone else top him? Knowing the answers to these questions won’t be beneficial in any way, but I can’t help myself. I open the app store and wait for Fanboy to download.
Originally, I intended to keep my account going and just let Jess run it for some added income; maybe do a solo video or two as the mood struck. I left it alone completely for a couple of weeks after I got home…but then I made the mistake of checking comments.
The ones about me were generally positive, people wondering where I’d been and asking if I was okay, but the ones about Luke and our relationship made me rage. A few are still burned into my memory:
What happened to the bf? Seemed like a loser anyway.
Single again from the looks of it. Maybe now we’ll get to see some variety and people his own age.
You mean the young hot guy ditched the washed up old guy? Who could have seen that coming.
That was enough to make me pull the plug right then and there. How do complete strangers find the audacity to offer opinions and commentary on the most difficult decision I’ve ever had to make? How dare they assume they knowanythingabout the love of my life?
Logging in takes a couple of password attempts, but once I’m in, I immediately navigate to Luke’s page. Before I even get the chance to look through his latest videos, I notice the “Message” tab is highlighted with the number eight inside a little red bubble. I frown. We never messaged one another on Fanboy…we’d just text, sometimes DM on other platforms, or yell across the condo.
I tap on the message bubble, and suddenly, I forget how to breathe.
Hey Sunshine…
My heart is in my throat as I read Luke’s heart spilled out for me in message after message, snapshots of what this past year has been like for him. My eyes are filling with tears as I read about his first collab after me, and spilling with joy and pride when he talks about therapy. I can’t imagine what a difficult step that must have been for him to make, and he did it all on his own.
As time passes, the dates get farther apart, but the amount of growth between them is astounding. The Luke in these messages is the Luke I always knew he could be—that I always hoped hewouldbe.
My entire body aches to be near him, like my soul is tethered to his. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel whole without him.
Suddenly, I can’t wait another second to see him. Jumping out of bed, I pull on a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, and I’m out the door without a second thought.
Mandy was not thrilled about being woken up by a 2 a.m. phone call, but as soon as I told her I needed Luke’s hotel name and room number, she changed her tune.
“Don’t think we’re not gonna have a chat later about how you didn’t tell me Luke texted you,” I grumble. “But thanks, sis. Sorry to wake you.”
“Go get your man, Ry,” she encourages, and I hear the smile in her tired voice. “You two belong together.”
We do. I don’t think I ever truly believed in soulmates, but I’m running out of other explanations.
I’m pounding on the door of room 518 before I have time to figure out what I’m doing, and I have no idea what I’m going to say. I just know that I can’t wait another minute to see him.
The door flies open, and Luke is blinking against the bright light of the hallway, his T-shirt adorably rumpled, boxer briefs riding low enough on his hips that I can see a little sliver of those taut abs and that delicious V, his hair flopped adorably to one side and sticking straight up on the other. “Riley?” he asks, rubbing his eyes as if he’s hallucinating me outside his hotel room in the middle of the night. “What are you?—”
I cut him off by wrapping both hands around the back of his neck and pulling him to me, our lips meeting in a searing kiss.
He whimpers and immediately opens to give me access, and my dick is already thickening up as I push my tongue into his mouth hungrily. I missed this so damn much. Pushing my entire body into his, I walk him backward until the backs of his legs meet the bed and he falls onto it, dark eyes wide with surprise and lust.
“Baby,” he breathes, clutching my waist and pulling me down on top of him. “Fuck, I missed you so much…so fucking much…”
His voice is thick with unshed tears, and I kiss the words off his lips, my hands framing his face and running up into his hair, massaging his head lightly. His entire body melts beneath me, and our movements slow to a more languid pace. Every so often, I have to stop and just look at him, memorizing the flush of his cheeks and the new smile lines around his mouth before our lips meet once again. “I love you,” I sigh into our kiss. “I love you so much, Luke Larson. I don’t want to spend another day apart.”
Tears are clinging to his lashes, finally spilling down his cheeks at my words. “Do you mean it?” he chokes out, taking my face between his rough palms. He’s trembling.
I nod. “It’s always been you, babe.”
Our lips crash together once more, and then I’m pawing at his shirt and grinding my cock into his frantically, desperate to feel every inch of his bare skin against mine. I sit up, pulling him with me, just long enough to tear his shirt over his head and scramble to remove my own. I’m about to go for his lips again when the glint of silver in his nipple draws my eye to his bare chest.
