Everyone knows.
The club knows. My parents know. The whole fucking town knows.
“But what about—” I started, then stopped, unsure how to articulate the fear clawing at my chest.
“What about what?” Tony prompted gently.
“What about when it gets hard?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. “What about when people start talking? What happens if you lose clients? When—”
“Simon,” Tony interrupted, his hands tightening on my waist. “I don’t care.”
I stared at him, my heart pounding.
“I don’t care what people say,” Tony continued, his voicefirm. “I don’t care if my clients leave. I don’t care if the whole fucking town has an opinion. The only thing I care about is you.”
“But what if—” I started again, but Tony cut me off with another kiss.
This one was deeper, more insistent. His hands slid up my back, pulling me closer, and I felt the shift in him.
The certainty.
The commitment.
When he pulled back, his eyes were blazing.
“No more what-ifs,” he said firmly. “No more hiding. No more pretending. You’re mine, Simon. And I’m going to make damn sure everyone knows it.”
My chest tightened, a mixture of relief and fear and hope swirling inside me.
“I’m scared,” I admitted, my voice barely audible.
“I know,” Tony said, his hands sliding up to cup my face again. “That’s my fault. I’m scared too. But I’m more scared of losing you than I am of anything else.”
He’s scared too. He’s just as terrified as I am.
But he’s doing it anyway.
“What if you change your mind?” I asked, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “What if you wake up tomorrow and realize this was a mistake? What if—”
“Simon,” Tony said, his voice cutting through my spiral. “Look at me.”
I forced myself to meet his eyes, my chest so tight I could barely breathe.
“I’m not changing my mind,” Tony said, his voice steady and sure. “I’ve spent six years afraid of being found out and I still couldn’t walk away from you. Now everyone knows. Why the fuck would I walk away when everything I need in my life is sitting in my lap?”
He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against mine.
“You’re it for me, Simon,” he whispered. “You’re the only one I want. The only one I’ve ever wanted. And I’m not lettingyou go. Not now. Not ever.”
The tears came again, hot and fast, and I couldn’t stop them.
I kissed him again, pouring everything I felt into it. All the fear, all the hope, all the love. Every emotion I’d been holding back for six years, afraid I would push him away.
Tony responded immediately, his hands sliding down to grip my hips, pulling me closer. The kiss deepened, turning hungry, desperate.
I needed him. I needed to feel him. I needed to know this was real.
I ground down against him, feeling the hard length of him pressing against me through our clothes. Tony groaned, his hands tightening on my hips.
