Chapter 25 #3
I collapsed onto him before I’d even finished coming, aftershocks ripping through me hard enough to make my muscles spasm. Bodhi wrapped his arms around me and kissed my head. His cum smeared between us, mixing with sweat, gluing us together.
I didn’t care.
I didn’t want to move. I wanted to stay right here, wrapped in his warmth, pressed into the place where everything felt safe and whole.
But even through the haze of our shared euphoria, I could feel it.
A clock ticking somewhere. Minutes bleeding away until reality came crashing back in, dragging me from his arms for three long months.
I couldn’t avoid it. I needed to do this. Needed to get better. I couldn’t put Bodhi through what I’d done last night again. Couldn’t put myself through it either.
Marc might’ve been a twat, but he’d been right about one thing. I needed to grow up. And now that I’d found Bodhi, I’d found someone worth choosing over the drugs.
It would just take a little longer to believe I was worth that choice too.
Munich Airport was busy. People rushed back and forth to catch flights, browsed last-minute souvenirs in duty free, drank one final German beer at the bar.
Passersby slowed or stopped as the band, Clara, and I made our way towards the gates.
Some recognised Noctis immediately, snapping photos and squealing the boys’ names.
Others didn’t know who they were, only that they must be important, judging by the security escort threading us through the crowds.
What surprised me most was how tightly Bodhi held my hand as we walked. He didn’t flinch, didn’t loosen his grip, didn’t seem to care who might speculate. Who might wonder who the pink-haired, femme boy strolling at his side was.
“Why should I care what people think?” he’d said when I asked him about it, like the answer was obvious. “I love you. Of course I’m going to hold your hand.”
We were waiting in one of the first-class lounges when a robotic voice announced that my flight to London was ready to board, and the realisation hit me all at once. This was it. My time with Bodhi was up, and this might be the very last time I ever saw him.
Panic clawed at my chest, my palms slick with sweat. Moments ago I’d been breathing normally, like any other human being. Now it felt impossible to draw a full breath at all.
Clara stood and retrieved both our passports and boarding passes from her bag. I was grateful she’d insisted on holding onto them. Left to my own devices, I might’ve flushed them down a toilet in a burst of manic desperation. Or handed them to a stranger and asked them to steal my identity.
“Okay, boys,” she said, glancing between the five members of Noctis. They still had another hour before their gate opened. “Behave yourselves.”
“We’re always good,” Thump protested with a pout.
Clara muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “Yeah, right.”
They all stood, forming a loose circle around the two of us. Mick, Ghost, and Thump had been filled in on everything that morning, and despite my nerves, I’d had nothing to fear. They’d hugged me while I cried, brushed off my apologies for lying, and told me I didn’t owe them a thing.
Thump had cried too, then promptly informed me I was still hot, substance abuse issues and all. It made me laugh despite myself. He didn’t mean anything by it. He never did. It was just Thump being Thump. A lovable idiot with no filter and even less tact.
A bit like me, I supposed.
Just like Bodhi promised, they’d shown up for me. Reassured me they’d still be there when I walked out of rehab in three months for the second time. Knowing that had made it easier to pack up my things with Bodhi’s help.
I wasn’t taking much. Just a small duffle bag filled with comfortable clothes.
The rest of my belongings would be shipped home to Gloria over the next few days, along with my makeup kit that was currently travelling with Dylan and the crew to Rome.
Bodhi and Clara had arranged everything, and I’d barely had to lift a finger.
And now it was time to say goodbye.
I hugged Thump and Mick first. Mick pressed a hastily scribbled list of book recommendations into my hand, in case I got bored at the Willow. Thump swore he’d fight Bodhi for phone time on Sundays.
Ghost handed me a care package of duty-free sweets and apologised, yet again, for the painkillers. Naturally, I told him I was the one who should be sorry. For lying and lashing out. For putting everyone in a position they never asked to be in.
When we’d finished saying our goodbyes, all of our eyes were wet. Then Bodhi, Clara, and I left the lounge and followed the long stretch of gates.
I watched the planes through the glass, lined up and waiting to be filled.
Families clustered together, children bouncing with excitement.
Groups of friends laughed as they talked about holidays, reunions, home.
All the while, I let Bodhi tug me along, trusting him to lead me where I needed to go, memorising the warmth of his hand in mine in case this was the last time I’d ever feel it.
A queue had already formed at our allotted gate. Flight attendants checked passports and boarding passes, ushering passengers through the double doors one by one.
Clara squeezed my shoulder. “I’ll go get in line,” she said gently, her eyes flicking between me and Bodhi. “Come and join me when you’re ready.”
I nodded and watched her disappear into the queue.
Then it was just us.
Me and Bodhi.
I turned to him, tears already slipping down my cheeks.
He smiled softly and wiped them away with his thumb, even as his own eyes shone.
Without thinking, I stepped into him and wrapped my arms around his chest. He hugged me back just as tightly, like he was trying to memorise me.
My weight. My shape. The way I fit against him.
We didn’t speak. We didn’t need to. We’d said everything already, earlier that morning, without words.
Eventually, Clara waved me over. There were only a few people left ahead of her.
Knowing we were out of time, I cupped Bodhi’s face and pulled him in for one last kiss. His tongue brushed my lips, familiar and gentle, and I sighed into it, tasting minty toothpaste and the faint sweetness of the smoothie he’d bought earlier.
“I’ll miss you,” I whispered when we broke apart, my voice cracking.
“I’ll miss you too, Iggy Pop,” he said, his fingers wrapping around my wrist, his thumb pressed over my pulse like he was grounding himself.
“You don’t have to wait for me,” I blurted, panic bleeding into my words. “I don’t know how long it’ll take, y’know, for me to—” I gestured vaguely at myself. “To get better. I’ll understand if it’s too long. If you—” I swallowed hard. “If you move on without me.”
Bodhi’s eyes widened. For a heartbeat, he didn’t say anything, and as Clara called my name, fear flared that I’d ruined this. That I’d said the wrong thing at the worst possible moment.
Then he smiled. Big and bright. A single tear slipped down his cheek.
“You’re an idiot sometimes, Iggy,” he said with a quiet chuckle.
“I—I . . .” I stumbled, unsure how to respond.
He pulled me into another embrace, leaning in so his words were meant only for me.
“You’re it for me,” he whispered into my ear. “The beat of my heart resonates with yours. I can’t imagine being with anyone else.”
He pulled back and pressed one last kiss to my lips. Then he stepped away, giving me space, silently telling me it was time.
“Besides,” he added, smiling through the ache. “All the best things are worth waiting for. And there’s nothing better than you.”
Despite everything, my mouth twitched. “Not even drugs?”
“Not even drugs,” he said, firm and certain.
Clara called my name again. I jogged towards the gate, then stopped and turned back. Bodhi was still there, watching me.
“I love you,” I called out with a wave.
“I love you too,” he said, grinning through wet eyes. “Now go. You deserve a life that makes you happy.”