Eli
FIVE
By the time we made it upstairs, the house had settled into a comfortable quiet. I could still hear my parents talking downstairs, their voices carrying through the floorboards every so often, followed by one of Dad's hearty laughs. It made the house feel... alive.
Niall closed the bedroom door behind us. For a second, we simply looked at each other.
"So," I said.
"So." A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"You had a good time?"
His answer came without hesitation. "The best."
Something in my chest entirely unraveled.
I'd spent the last two days hoping he wouldn't feel like an outsider. Watching him laugh with my parents, joke with Cheyenne, and admire that stocking tonight...
I'd never loved him more than I had in that moment. I crossed the room until nothing but a sliver of space remained between us. "You've been quiet since we got back."
He slipped his hands around my waist. "I'm thinking."
"About?"
He searched my face for a moment. "How lucky I am."
I smiled. "I was about to say the same thing."
His eyes softened, then his lips brushed mine. Slowly. There was no rush, no urgency born from stolen moments. We had all night.
My hands fell to his waist as his fingers curled into the back of my shirt, drawing me closer. The kiss deepened, lingering until I barely could remember how it began.
My hands settled at his waist as he drew me closer.
God… I'd missed this. Being home had meant stolen touches, a brush of his hand beneath the dinner table or a shoulder bump in the kitchen. Fingers laced together while we looked out over the Pacific.
Now I could finally hold him, explore him. I slid my hands beneath the hem of his sweater, my palms gliding over the warm skin of his back. He shivered.
I smiled against his lips. "Cold?"
He shook his head. "No."
I eased his sweater over his head, barely separating from him before my lips were on his again.
His hands found the buttons of my shirt, working them open one by one with the same quiet patience he seemed to bring to everything.
When the shirt joined his sweater, I cupped his face and kissed him again. Slower. Deeper. He melted into me, our tongues clashing and battling for dominance.
Eventually, my hands landed on the waistband of his jeans. I looked at him. "Okay?"
He answered with a small nod. Always checking. Always making sure. I loved that about us.
I made quick work of his belt, then his button and zipper. Finally, I eased the denim off his hips, taking my time, giving him every chance to stop me if he wanted to. He never did.
His jeans joined the growing pile of clothes on the floor, and he reached for me again almost immediately, as though putting even an inch of space between us suddenly felt impossible.
I smiled against his mouth. "Someone's impatient."
"You talk too much."
"Do I?"
His answer was another languid kiss. The kind of taste that left me smiling before it was even over.
We found the edge of the bed without either of us paying much attention to how we'd gotten there. Niall sat first, and I stepped between his knees, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead.
He looked up at me with that same mixture of confidence and uncertainty I'd fallen in love with.
"I love you," I murmured.
His expression softened. "I know."
I laughed. "You were supposed to say it back."
"I was getting there." He reached for my hand, threading our fingers together and bringing my knuckles to his lips. "I love you too."
The words settled somewhere deep inside me.
Attached at the lips, I eased him back onto the bed one unhurried inch at a time. My hands wandered over him with quiet familiarity, relearning every place that made him sigh, every place that made him lean into my touch.
Then... He tensed. Only for a heartbeat. It was so slight I might have missed it if I didn't know him as well as I did.
I lifted my head. "Hey. "You okay?"
His eyes stayed fixed on mine. A faint smile appeared, though it carried a trace of nerves. "Yeah."
"You sure?"
He nodded. "I trust you."
I brushed a kiss across his forehead.
"Whatever's got you blushing this hard," I whispered, smiling against his skin, "you know you can tell me."
He laughed, soft and a little shaky. "I know."
He took a breath. "I just..." His cheeks warmed another shade. "I wanted tonight to be special." He hesitated for another second before reaching behind himself.
My brow furrowed. "Niall?"
His eyes met mine for the briefest moment before he looked away again. "I... wore a plug." The words came out in a rush. "I thought..." He gave a helpless little shrug. "I thought maybe... we'd... and I wanted to be ready."
For a heartbeat, I simply stared at him. It wasn't because I didn't understand. It was because I completely did. "Oh, Ni..." I gasped.
His face somehow turned even redder. "Please don't laugh."
"Laugh?" I gently took his face in my hands. "I don't think I've ever loved you more than I do right now, and I’ve definitely never been so turned on."
His eyes searched mine for any hint of a lie, one he wouldn’t find. "Really?"
"You've spent all day carrying this around because you wanted to share something with me."
He swallowed. "I wanted..." His voice cracked into an embarrassed laugh. "I wanted to know what it would feel like."
My chest was filled to the brim with love. This beautiful, thoughtful man. He wasn't trying to impress me. He was giving me a piece of himself he'd never imagined he'd want to give anyone.
"You know I don't need this."
"I know."
"You sure you want this?
A tiny nod. "I do."
I smiled and brushed another kiss across his lips. "Then thank you for trusting me."
"I trust you with everything."
"I know," I whispered. "And I'll never take that for granted."
He cupped my face in his warm palms, his thumbs brushing my cheeks as though he wanted to memorize me all over again. I leaned into his touch, grateful in a way I couldn't begin to explain.
He trusted me. It wasn't because I'd asked him to but because he'd chosen to.
I rested my forehead against his. "I love you," I whispered.
His smile was small, but it reached his eyes. "I know."
I laughed softly.
"You keep saying that."
"Because every time you tell me..." His fingers slipped through mine. "I still can't believe you're talking to me."
"Oh, Ni."
I kissed him once more, slow enough that the rest of the world quietly disappeared. It struck me that this was the first time I'd ever brought someone I loved back to the room where I'd grown up. And somehow, it felt exactly right.
I brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead.
"Still okay?"
He nodded. "More than okay."
The kisses grew deeper, quieter, until words became unnecessary.
Every touch was answered with another, every pause filled with a reassuring glance or a whispered smile.
There was no rush. No need to prove anything.
Only two people learning each other a little more, wrapped in trust, tenderness, and the promise of tomorrow.
Long after the room had fallen quiet again, Niall curled against my side, his head resting on my shoulder while I lazily traced circles across his back.
"I was right," he murmured sleepily.
"About what?"
"This was a pretty special night."
I kissed the top of his head. "It was, baby. It was."