This part of Oscar’s life story was a gift, and Ryan had every intention of keeping it safe.
“Thank you,” he said after a moment, breathing in the scent of Oscar’s hair, mandarins and rosemary and some other note he couldn’t quite place.
Oscar laughed, the faintest note of hysteria creeping into the sound. “For being a hot mess?”
“For letting me see you,” Ryan responded.
I love you, he thought.
The thought was so sudden he didn’t know what to do with it, and fear of being laughed at stopped him from voicing it.
Hell, it was terrifying. Ryan had just gotten finished coming to terms with the fact that Oscar was aman, and he was into him.
Love was a whole different thing. Love was huge.
And the idea that Oscar might not feel the same way—probablydidn’t—was enough to make him push it back. For another time, at least.
He probably didn’tmeanit, anyway. It was just what he thought he should feel in response to not being treated like crap by someone he’d had sex with a few times now.
Oscar made him feel accepted and wanted and all kinds of good things, and he wasn’t about to risk that for three words he wasn’t even positive he meant. Maybe he was just clinging to Oscar because Oscardidmake him feel good.
“I assume you mean letting you see why I’m such an asshole, as opposed to seeing me naked. Because I think every gay man in a fifty-mile radius has done that,” Oscar joked.
Ryan chuckled in response, but held Oscar a little tighter. “You’re the opposite of an asshole. You’ve been kind to me.”
“You deserve kindness,” Oscar said.
“So do you,” Ryan murmured, tilting his head to catch Oscar’s lips.
He could have this. This little moment where the two of them had held out their hearts to each other and neither of them had gotten broken.
Oscar hummed softly into the kiss, a smile turning up his lips.
The sound of the toaster springing up made them both jump, Ryan’s heart pounding in his ears at the surprise. He laughed at himself, and Oscar laughed, too, the tension of the moment broken.
They’d have other moments, though. Ryan could afford to take this a little slow.
Emotionally, anyway. He’d had Oscar’s cock in his mouth this morning, so there wasn’t a whole lot of speeding up to be done in bed. Not that he was complaining about that.
It was enough to know that hewantedto keep this. That it was doing him good, and that it seemed to be doing Oscar good, too.
