Chapter Twenty-Nine Han
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
HAN
I splayed myself out on the couch, not caring I was making a fool of myself. I was around mostly family, plus Tatiana. She seemed like the only one who noticed me then. Everyone else was at the table eating, but I didn’t want to move. Because of my ankle and because I’d had a bit too much to drink. The alcohol helped me stop overthinking everything. My brain and body just felt relaxed.
“Where did your fiancé go?” Tatiana asked.
“Where’d your Leti go?” I shot back at her, my words slurring together.
“Probably wherever your fiancé went,” Tatiana said, taking a quick swig straight from the bottle of tequila and then offering it to me. I took a pretty big gulp myself. I knew I was breaking my own drinking rule, but what could I say? It was a moment of weakness. The more I drank, the less my ankle hurt and the more untangled my brain got. I couldn’t complain about that. Soon enough, the pain in my ankle went from a constant fire to a distant burning, almost like it wasn’t even attached to my body anymore. I’d already resigned myself to sleeping on the couch so I wouldn’t get hurt on my way to bed. It would be fine.
Finally, Kenny and Leti came out from the hallway. Kenny lifted my head up from the couch cushion and sat down, placing my head back down in his lap. It was more comfortable like this than it was before. I felt like I might have been mad at Kenny, but I knew I had no right to be, so I just closed my eyes and leaned into his lap. Screw overthinking. I’d figure it out tomorrow.
“You’re a comfy boy,” I muttered, smiling lazily with my eyes closed. I heard Kenny laugh.
“Thanks, babe,” Kenny said. I knew he was just doing it for show, but I liked when he called me that. It had a nice ring to it. I’d been called “babe” before, by lots of girls, but never by Kenny until recently. It felt different. Good. Most things with Kenny felt that way.
I wrapped my arms around Kenny’s leg, using his thigh as a pillow, and closed my eyes. Right now nothing really mattered. I didn’t care about the guests, or Jackie, or anything but Kenny’s lap. I mumbled my goodbyes without opening my eyes as our guests trickled out of the house. I felt a few kisses on my forehead—probably from my tíos—and before I knew it, Kenny and I were alone again, just the two of us on the couch.
“Do you still love Jackie?” I asked as soon as the last person left. I didn’t know where the question came from, but I didn’t care.
“What? No. It’s… complicated. But no.”
“What’s complicated about it?”
Kenny was quiet for what felt like a full minute, but time was moving weird, so I couldn’t really be sure.
“I just miss having someone, you know?” Kenny finally said.
I frowned. “I don’t know. I never really had someone. I mean, I have you, but it’s different. Like you said. It’s fake.” I sighed, probably not doing the best job of hiding my exasperation.
“Um, right…” Kenny started playing with my hair, and I hummed at the sensation. I closed my eyes again, letting the comforting feeling on my scalp lull me to sleep.
Kenny’s fingers were still sifting through my hair when I woke up with an uncontrollable urge to pee. I couldn’t have been asleep for more than five minutes. Dammit, I would have to get up soon.
“Can you help me up? I have to take a piss,” I said, regretting the words instantly, because they made Kenny’s hands move away from my hair. He helped me sit up while I grabbed for the crutches so I could stand. It didn’t take long before I realized I was still way too drunk to use them. Kenny must have noticed, because he immediately came to my side and pulled my arm around his shoulder to support me.
“Thanks,” I said, careful not to say the word “bro,” since that had started bothering him, even if I had no idea why. I felt almost naked without saying it. Like the word was some kind of protection spell that kept things from getting too real. Maybe it was okay if they got real with Kenny. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was feeling the same way.
Kenny helped me all the way to the toilet. I wasn’t one to get embarrassed, especially while we were both drunk, and I would need help getting back to the living room anyway. I appreciated that Kenny didn’t make a big deal of it.
“Do you think we’re still on the same page about this?” Kenny asked, staring at himself in the mirror and fixing his hair, completely unfazed by the sound of me relieving my bladder.
“What page are you on?” I asked, unwilling to admit I might not have been on the same page as I was when we made the agreement. I still wanted to go through with it. Had to. But I didn’t know what page I was on when it came to relationships anymore. With Kenny in particular.
Kenny took in a breath like he was hyping himself up for something, then shook his head. “Nothing’s changed,” he said, and I didn’t know if I should feel relief or disappointment.
“Great. Same,” I said, even though it couldn’t have been farther from the truth. I hopped sloppily over to the sink, and after I washed my hands, I threw an arm around Kenny’s shoulder. If I couldn’t have Kenny for real, at least we could enjoy the pretending. “Take me to bed, lover.”
Kenny laughed. Instead of helping me walk out the door, he put an arm under my knees and hoisted me up. I was impressed he was able to carry me, considering how much taller I was than him. It was a little bit of a turn-on, if I was being honest.
Kenny started walking to my room, and when he nudged the door open with his foot, my weight must have gotten to him—or maybe the alcohol—because we both went tumbling to the floor. Kenny did some kind of superhero wrestling move midair, so I fell on top of him instead of the other way around.
Kenny smiled under me. Our faces were so close, but it didn’t seem to bother either of us. I stared at Kenny’s dark eyes, which, I couldn’t help but notice, were staring at my lips. Kenny’s eyes slowly traveled back up to meet mine, but instead of kissing, I burst out laughing, then rolled to my side.
“What?” Kenny asked, but he was laughing now, too.
I just crawled over to my bed, giggling all the way there. I climbed up and splayed out on top of the blankets, staring at the ceiling. The next moment, Kenny was cuddled up next to me.
He held up his phone to check the time, and I got a glimpse of his screensaver: a picture of him with his mom.
I didn’t have a single picture of me with my mom to remember her by. Before I knew it, pressure built up behind my eyes, and drunken tears spilled out of them without warning.
“Han?” Kenny tenderly wiped my cheek with his thumb. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head and covered my face with my hands. “No. I’m not allowed to cry about this,” I said, the words muffled behind my hands.
Kenny gently pulled one of my hands away from my face and held it tightly. “About what?”
“My mom!” The words came out in a sob, and more tears fell down the sides of my temples, sliding back down to my hair as I stared at the blurry ceiling.
Kenny squeezed my hand, his voice softer than ever. “Of course you’re allowed to cry about it.”
“Bullshit. I barely knew her. I never called. She tried calling me before she died and I ignored her. I don’t deserve to cry about it,” I said, but despite the words, I just cried harder. It felt good. It hurt, but I needed to get it out. I was glad the alcohol gave me the ability.
“It’s not your fault,” Kenny whispered, his eyes starting to water, too.
After a long moment of silence, Kenny whispered again. “Tell me about her…”
And I did. Through my tears, I told Kenny everything. I told him why I never called my parents. How my mom was barely there. How she tried to sell me for drugs. How she was the reason I felt like I had to be emotionally distant from everyone I cared about. I told him about the letters and videos I never sent her. How despite everything, I missed her, or at least the idea of what she could have meant to me. Despite everything, I wished she wasn’t dead. And I felt guilty for not feeling as sad as everyone thought I should be.
I rolled to my side and looked into Kenny’s teary face. He wiped his own eyes under his glasses, then cupped my cheeks in his hands and wiped my tears with his thumbs without breaking eye contact. Kenny’s eyes were intense and full of understanding. I closed my own, squeezing out a few stray tears. I wanted to kiss him so badly in that moment. I almost did, but I stopped myself before our lips met.
“How did you know you were bi?” I asked. Anything to change the subject. Kenny looked taken aback.
“Um, I guess I always knew. I mean, before Jackie, lots of my crushes were dudes.”
I was quiet for a while before saying anything. I stared into Kenny’s eyes, which were still misty from me talking about my mom.
“I’m gay,” I blurted out, relieved to finally admit it.
Kenny reached out for my hand and squeezed it. “How long have you known?”
“Since… well… since you. This.” I pointed back and forth between Kenny and myself.
Kenny’s cheeks reddened. “Are you saying…? Do you—”
Before I could overthink it, I closed the gap between our faces and pressed my lips firmly against Kenny’s. He kissed back for a moment. A wonderful, beautiful moment, before pulling away.
“We’re both drunk.” He stated the obvious.
“Do you want to kiss me?” I asked, sure my eyes were just as intense as Kenny’s in the moment.
“Yes.”
“Did you ever want to kiss me sober? For no reason other than that you wanted to? Alcohol, audience, checklist aside, did you ever want to kiss me?”
“Yes.” Kenny barely finished saying the word before pulling me back in for another hungry kiss. I felt his glasses slide down his nose, but neither of us seemed to care. I breathlessly took in the kiss as I gripped the back of his neck with one hand and wrapped the other around his waist, pressing us even closer together, as if we could share one body, one breath. My leg moved in between Kenny’s, and just as I felt his jeans shift as he hardened, I yanked myself away, holding Kenny’s shoulders as I met his confused gaze.
“Am I a bad kisser?” I slurred, sure that I’d ruined the moment, but I was too drunk to care.
“What?” Kenny looked surprised as he adjusted his glasses, but then he smiled. “No, you’re… you’re really good.” I noticed how flushed Kenny’s cheeks were. I wondered if it was the alcohol or the kissing.
“Oh…” So that meant Tatiana wasn’t just being nice when she’d said it. Unless Kenny was just being nice? But I doubted anyone would kiss me like that if they weren’t enthusiastic about it.
“So, I have feelings for you,” Kenny said, eyes made to look even bigger and more intense underneath those glasses.
Normally, I would have been afraid to admit it, but the alcohol took away whatever superficial fears I would have had before.
“Me too.” I smiled. We could worry about the implications of this in the morning. For now, I rested my head on Kenny’s chest and smiled.
“Do you think this changes things?” Kenny asked.
“I don’t want it to change things.” I realized then that Kenny seemed a bit out of breath, and I regretfully rolled off him to let him breathe. Kenny immediately took the opportunity to roll over so our positions were switched. Now he was lying on top of me, staring at my lips again.
“Obviously I take back that no-kissing rule…”
Instead of answering, I grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled our faces together so our lips crashed into each other. It was sloppy, and we were drunk, but it was real. At least, as real as an inebriated make-out could be. I resisted the urge to pull away and take off my clothes before continuing. I wanted this, but I also didn’t want to have regrets in the morning. At least if we didn’t do anything more than make out, we could write it off as a drunken mistake if Kenny changed his sobered mind.
“You’re amazing…” Kenny let out breathlessly between kisses.
The praise warmed my insides. Despite my better judgment, I found myself wondering where Kenny’s kinky sex backpack was at that moment. My imagination flared, and I wondered what Kenny got up to with the things inside…
“Are you a dom or a sub?” I had barely finished the thought before I was blurting it out aloud.
Kenny pulled away slightly to look at me, a smirk on his lips. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he said, licking his lips flirtatiously.
“I mean, yeah, I would,” I said honestly.
He smirked again. “I’m a switch.”
“A switch,” I repeated thoughtfully.
“What about you?” he asked.
It wasn’t until then that I realized I was completely unprepared to answer my own question. I never really thought of myself as a particularly submissive person, but I couldn’t deny the warmth in my cheeks at the thought of Kenny using his handcuffs or ropes on me. I didn’t think I’d let anyone else do that to me but Kenny. I knew with him I’d be taken care of. Safe.
“I think I’m a sub,” I finally said. It wasn’t like I wanted him to tie me up and fuck me then and there, but… “I’m… curious.”
Kenny grinned. “I thought you might be. What are you curious about?”
I wouldn’t have been brave enough to say it if I were sober, even if I knew Kenny felt the same way about me. But the alcohol loosened my lips, and I said what I was feeling. “Where’s your sex backpack? You have ropes and stuff in there, right?”
Kenny chuckled. “It’s not safe to play with bondage when you’re drunk. But…” He leaned forward and kissed me again. His hands moved to find mine, and he pinned my wrists down against the bed next to my head. Something churned in my gut. I knew I was technically stronger than Kenny and could move my hands if I wanted to, but that wasn’t the point. Kenny felt strong like this, in control. He pulled away from the kiss but kept his hands firmly pinning my wrists. Then he leaned forward so his breath tickled my ear as he spoke, giving me goose bumps.
“If you’re still curious later, I know exactly what I want to do to you.”
I let out a heavy breath as I felt myself hardening at his words, and I was at a loss for my own.
“For tonight, though, we shouldn’t go any further,” Kenny said, and I couldn’t help but deflate a bit. I knew it was a bad idea to do anything drunk, but God, I wanted him so badly.
“Okay,” I said, and Kenny rolled off me, instead cuddling my side and rubbing his hand up and down my chest.
I felt myself dozing off soon enough, but instead of leaving me to go to his own room, Kenny pulled the covers over both of us. I scooted even closer to him, and we wrapped our arms around each other. Our legs intertwined for a moment, but the second Kenny’s foot brushed my ankle, I recoiled.
“Oof, sorry,” Kenny said, then scooted the lower half of his body away, leaving us only cuddling from our torsos up.
“It’s okay.” I chuckled awkwardly.
“Have you ever been in love?” Kenny asked after a while of silence.
“Not yet…” I felt like I was getting there, though. Like if we kept this up, I could easily fall in love with Kenny.
“What about commitment scares you so much?”
I didn’t know how to answer that. I guessed it was because I felt like nothing was guaranteed. Things could be great one day and miserable the next, like they were with Jackie and Kenny. Then again, I was never really afraid of commitment so much as uninterested in it. I’d never felt that spark with anyone before like I felt it with Kenny. And I craved that feeling like caffeine. Was I afraid of committing to marrying Kenny? I didn’t think so.
“I’m not scared right now,” I said, relaxing into Kenny’s arms.
“What if I told you I’m scared?”
“What are you scared of?” I asked, and Kenny didn’t answer for another minute.
“I’m scared of hurting you. I don’t want you to be a rebound. You mean too much to me. You mean everything to me.”
Oh. I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe I was a rebound, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. Not right now. We could have tonight and worry about all of this tomorrow. Who knows? Sober, we might deny it ever happened. But for now it was real, and for the first time, I didn’t want to run away from that.
“You won’t hurt me. I trust you, babe.”
Kenny smiled at the pet name, then kissed my neck softly. “Mmm. Love you. G’night.”
Maybe Kenny was more drunk than I’d realized, since he was fast asleep before I had a chance to even respond. I didn’t know what I would have said anyway, but I was suddenly wide-awake. We told each other we loved each other plenty of times before, but never after kissing. I was glad Kenny was asleep, because if he wasn’t, I might have said it back and meant it. There was only so much gay awakening a guy could handle in one night. I wasn’t ready to think about that.
For now I thought about kissing Kenny.