44） Don’t Forget Me
Gio
I pull Rava closer, right between my legs, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind. His back fits so perfectly against my chest, it's ridiculous.
I rest my head in the space between his neck and shoulder.
I press a soft kiss there, and then I do it again and again.
He smells so good I could get drunk off it.
"Hey… remind me tomorrow to give you the bracelet.
I did it! I actually made it. While you were getting ready for the fair earlier. " I murmur.
He turns his head to see me, smiling relieved. "You did?" he says. I nod, still against his neck. He laughs softly.
I can't let him go. I can't. I'd do anything. I'd crawl through fire if it meant he'd stay. I'd go back and fix every single thing I ever fucked up just to be good enough for him.
I want years with him. Not just nights. Not stolen time.
I want Christmas mornings. Him half-asleep in one of my oversized shirts, decorating a crooked little tree in our living room with the lights tangled around his legs and stupid holiday playlists.
I want to see him sick and grumpy with a cold, bundled up in our bed, while I force him to drink gross tea, and he tells me I'm being dramatic while secretly loving it.
I want him cooking with me, barefoot in our kitchen while pasta boils on the stove. I want him to yell at me for putting wet towels on the floor. I want to kiss him after every stupid fight.
I want to hear him laugh in rooms we haven't even lived in yet. I want to fall asleep next to him for the rest of my life.
I'm gonna miss the way he looks at me when I'm inside him, that dazed, ruined look in his eyes when he's so far gone he can't even speak, just gasps my name and clings to me. And yeah, the way his thighs tighten around my waist when I hit that spot.
The way he scratches at my back and pulls my hair like he needs more, always more. That little gasp he makes when I bite his collarbone. I'm addicted to that shit. But it's not just that.
It's not just the sex, even if that's heaven on earth. It's the way he always crawls on top of me after. Messy hair, swollen lips, that soft sleepy grin. The way he tugs the sheet up and hides under it like he's embarrassed, even though he just screamed my name twenty minutes ago. I live for that.
It's the way he lays on my chest and draws little circles with his fingers while I try not to cry like an idiot. The way he says "baby" when he's half asleep. The way he lets me hold him.
I'll miss that more than anything. The warmth of his skin against mine. The weight of his body when he's tired and just throws himself on top of me like I'm his mattress.
The sound of his heartbeat under my palm. I'll miss brushing the hair out of his face. Kissing the tip of his nose. Telling him he's safe.
I wanna be there when he has a nightmare.
I wanna be there when he passes his exams. I wanna be there when he's sick and dramatic and wants to be babied.
I wanna bring him soup and stroke his hair and tell him he's still pretty even with tissues stuffed up his nose.
Rolling his eyes when I call him sexy with a mouth full of toothpaste.
God, I'm going to cry like a loser. I want all of it. Every single version of him. The fucked out, blissed out, passed out on my chest version.
He's mine. And I'm his. Ride or Die.
And I swear to God I'll bring him back soon.
…
After what felt like a lifetime of talking, about everything and nothing, about stupid memories and impossible dreams, about what we'd miss and what we'd never forget, and after what felt like even more hours of kisses, of soft grazes, of our hands memorizing every inch of each other like they were scared to forget, it is 6AM.
The sky is starting to shift. The first colors of sunrise are creeping above the water. That terrible day, the one we've been pretending doesn't exist, is here. Actually here.
Rava is lying on top of me while his fingers are lazily running up and down my side. "How are we not tired?" he whispers.
I shake my head. "I don't know…but I like it." And then I kiss him. It isn't soft this time. It isn't lazy or playful.
It is heavy. A goodbye in disguise.
We both know. We don't say it, but we know.
I grab the back of his head and deepen the kiss, rolling us so he's underneath me. The moment our lips break, I stay there, staring at him like he's my whole damn world. Because he is.
My hand slowly slides down from his chest to his stomach. I don't rush it. Don't say a word. He looks up at me. Nods once. And that's all I need.
I lean down and kiss him again, this time slower.
Full of everything I literally don't know how to say. I'm going to make sure he feels every ounce of love I've been too scared to put into words sometimes.
I don't want to fuck him. Not this time.
I want to make love to him. The kind that's slow and selfish. I kiss his neck. Then his jaw. Then lower.
When I reach the waistband of his swim trunks, I pause. He watches me. Then I slide them down slow. His thighs shift slightly.
I bend lower and kiss his hipbone. Then lower. He lets out a soft sound, and I get goosebumps. But I'm not rushing. I drag my slicked fingers down, letting him know before going any further.
I begin to work him open as gently and as carefully as I can, because he deserves this. He bites his lip. His whole body tenses under mine.
"You okay?" I whisper.
He nods. "Yeah… keep going."
So I do. Take my time.
Watch the way his back arches when I slide my fingers in a little deeper.
The way he whimpers. His hands grip the towel.
Then me. I pull my fingers out slowly, and I'm watching the way his body clenches, trying to hold onto me.
He's breathing harder now, and his cheeks are flushed already.
I pause. Just to look at him. To take him in, and the fact that he's trusting me completely. Letting me see him like this.
I slick my hand and wrap it around myself with zero rushing. God, the way he watches me like he's mesmerized, like he needs this as much as I do, makes me want to fall apart before I even touch him again.
Makes me want to get on my knees and beg for him. I stroke myself slowly, trying to coat every inch, making sure there's no rush, no tension, no edge to any of this.
Because this isn't about release. It's about him. About being inside him one last time, not to claim him, but to stay with him.
He opens his legs a little wider. Brings his knees up, inviting me in. His eyes are never leaving mine. There's no fear.
I line myself up. Hold his hips.
And then I start pushing inside. I drop my forehead to his. He is heaven. This time it feels like the whole world narrows to this one moment. I let out a shaky breath. He pulls me closer and hugs my shoulders while his legs are locking around my waist.
"Don't go slow," he whispers. "Just be with me."
I kiss him softly, and I start to move. In and out.
Not for friction or pace.
But like I'm saying I love you with every thrust.
Because I am. There's no one else out here. Just us. The sea. The wind. And the slow, soft sound of my hips meeting his. I keep moving in and out of him like time isn't literally chasing us.
My hand slides down his side, to feel the way he shivers when I hit the right spot. He gasps, and his fingers are digging into my back. "I'm so lucky it's you, Gio," he breathes.
I kiss his mouth gently. "Say it again and I swear I won't let you go." I murmur against his lips. My thrusts are still steady and not rushed. Just deep. The waves crash behind us. There are birds somewhere nearby, singing like idiots, like they don't know.
His hands roam, my shoulders, my jaw, my hair, not able to decide what part of me to hold on to. My lips find his throat, his collarbone, the shell of his ear. I whisper his name more than once. And his whining mine. Begging with it.
"Gio, don't stop—"
"Not gonna."
"Please—"
"I've got you, baby. Just stay with me."
He moans when I angle my hips just right, and he clenches around me so perfectly I almost lose it.
But I don't. Not yet. Because I want this to last. I want him to feel everything. I want him to remember the sound of our skin. And the way his name sounds on my tongue when I'm not holding anything back.
The sky brightens a little more. The air smells like salt. And I keep moving, in, out, in, slow and deep. Because if this is the last time, then I'm making it count.
His nails drag down my back, enough to sting, and enough to make me move a little deeper. He gasps quietly. That only happens when it's me inside him.
His mouth finds my jaw. "Gio—"
I press my forehead to his. My hand slips under his thigh, lifting him slightly. I'm changing the angle until I feel him clench and cry out beneath me. "Right there?" I ask, even though I know the answer. He nods, desperate. I give it to him again.
Deeper now. My hips roll slowly, again, and again, and again. Until we're both shaking. His legs tighten around my waist, locking me in. His hands are on my neck, my hair. I kiss him again. The waves crash behind us.
The sun's starting to spill light over the sand, gold and soft and too beautiful for a moment that hurts this much.
He moans into my mouth. My hand moves between us, wraps around him and strokes him in sync with every thrust. Every thrust says stay. Every kiss says please don't forget me.
"Gio I'm close—"
"I know, baby. I got you. Just let go."
He chokes on a sound, jerks in my hand, his back arching hard beneath me. He buries his face in my neck and shatters in my arms. Right between us. Whimpering my name.
The second I feel him come undone, the second I hear his voice crack, I bury myself deep and come so hard I see stars.
My hand on his chest. My mouth on his shoulder. Whispering his name. I stay there. Inside him. Wrapped around him, afraid to move. Because if I do, this ends.
I've never loved anyone like this. Not even close. The kind of love that makes you want to give up your name just to take theirs. The kind of love that makes a future feel less like a dream and more like a fight worth bleeding for.
He shifts a little, just enough for our noses to touch. Our legs are still tangled, my hips still pressed deep into his. We click like two puzzle pieces.
"You okay?"
I nod against his skin. "Yeah," I say. "I just don't wanna let go yet." He exhales like he understands. So I stay.
Holding him, and loving him.
Saying everything without saying a word. Because if this is the last time… he needs to know.
He's it for me.