26. HOLDEN #2
I kiss them hard, ripping off a packet of lube. Korie squirms as I smear it against their hole, and as I press two fingers in, I swallow down their moan. They bear down on me, eager and needy.
“You’re going to need to be quiet,” I whisper.
Korie groans. “No promises.”
I laugh.
They whine. “Hurry. I need you, Hold.”
Their tone does something to me I can’t name.
I kiss them again, adding another finger.
I stretch them until I can easily slip three fingers in and out, then kneel between their legs.
Korie watches me as I roll a condom on, stroking themself.
Shoving a pillow under their ass, I line up and press in, hovering over them.
Their hand finds my face in the dark, and I watch their face as I enter.
So full of need and want and love. Korie’s thumb brushes over my lips, then they pull me in for a kiss, legs wrapping around my hips as I bottom out.
I fuck slowly, drinking down their cries of desire.
“More,” they whisper.
I adjust my angle and thrust harder. Korie slides both arms around my shoulders, tucking their face against my neck.
I can feel them tremble, feel their lips against my skin as they kiss me, their hips moving in tandem with mine.
Neither of us are going to last long. The heartache of the last few days has made us crave this. Need this.
I lift their hip and drive in, nailing their prostate. Korie arches their back, biting their lip to keep from crying out. When I do it again, their fingers dig into my skin. On the third thrust, hot liquid spills between our bellies and their channel tightens.
I groan and turn to kiss them. They immediately tangle their hand into my hair, and I fall over with them.
I pour every ounce of relief, love, and promise into that kiss, and as I come down from the high, Korie is smiling against my lips.
Like they know. We cling to each other, soft breaths and tender whispers, then clean up using a shirt.
Korie kisses near my ear as they snuggle in. I miss what they say before they fall asleep, but it’s okay. I don’t need to hear it to know what they said. I love you.
I slide a hand up their arm. I love you too, Kor.
I jostle awake to the sound of a child screaming somewhere near our tent. It’s not a distressed scream—more like the offended outrage of a kid who didn’t get what they wanted—but it cuts clean through sleep anyway.
My eyes drag open, the early morning light filtering soft and gold through the thin fabric above us… and immediately land on Korie.
They’re propped up on one elbow, hair a complete mess—which I only now realize is dyed a vibrant bright blue. Their eyes are warm and focused entirely on me. Like they’ve been watching me for a while. Smiling.
I squint at them, still half caught in sleep, brain slow and trying to catch up.
“Creepy,” I mumble, voice rough.
Their smile widens.
I press my palm over their face, shoving lightly. “Stop staring at me.”
Korie laughs against my hand, the sound muffled and bright. “You’re the one who was talking in your sleep.”
I freeze. “Uhh. No, I wasn’t.”
“You were. And it was adorable. You said, ‘The bird is going to eat you.’”
I wrinkle my nose. “How is that adorable? That sounds terrifying.”
Korie cackles.
I groan and drop my hand, rolling onto my side to face them properly. Without thinking, I slide an arm around their waist, tugging them closer. They fit against me easily.
Heat coils low in my stomach when my naked body shifts against theirs, hard morning wood pressing into their belly. I inhale sharply, then force myself to relax. We definitely don’t have time for that right now.
Korie doesn’t comment. Instead, they lift a hand and brush their fingers along my scruffy cheek, slow and soft, their gaze searching mine. There’s something quieter in it this morning. Something steady.
They lean in to kiss me, tenderly and unhurried. No heat behind it, no urgency—just soft lips, shared breath, and a warmth that settles deep in my chest.
It means everything.
Then their eyes widen and they pull away in a hurry. “Oh my god. The surprise!”
The sudden loss of their body heat is unbearable. I try to pull them back, but Korie is already scrambling for their bags at the end of the tent. I prop up on my elbows, grinning wide.
“Oh, hello,” I tease, seeing their bare butt.
Korie smirks over their shoulder, then tosses something warm and soft at me. I lift it with one hand, then sit up to get a better look.
“You made us shirts?”
Korie sits cross-legged beside me, their expression a mix of apprehension and excitement.
“Hands off. They’re mine,” I say, reading the painted words aloud. Below them is an arrow pointing to the side.
Korie holds another shirt up in the same god-awful lime green. The black lettering on their shirt reads, Hands off. He’s mine. The arrow is pointing in the opposite direction, so they point to each other when side-by-side.
I grin. “I love it.”
“Yeah? It’s not too cheesy?”
I kiss them. “It’s perfect.” It wouldn’t be our family campout without Korie in a bright shirt, anyway.
“Aris helped me,” Korie says, pointing out tiny bird marks across both shirts.
“Aww. That just makes them even cuter. Did you have to do lime green though? You know I hate lime green.”
“Oh, hush. It was the only color I could find at the last second. Come on. Let’s get dressed.”
Korie is all smiles this morning, which is a huge relief given the last few days. I lost count of how many times I was tempted to call them or drive by their apartment.
Outside, the noise of the camp grows louder as everyone stirs. I can already smell the bacon and fried eggs. My stomach growls. It’s been too long since I’ve had a proper meal.
After getting into shorts, Korie tugs their shirt on, then turns toward me as I do the same.
“Definitely my favorite color now,” Korie says.
I snort.
We pull our shoes on, then before Korie can reach for the zipper, I grab their hand. “You know this is going to cause a scene of like, epic proportions, right? Probably worse than when Laura announced she was pregnant?”
Korie’s grin only grows. “Oh, I know. But I’m ready for it now.” They lean in, kissing me. “They’re going to be happy for us, Holden. I already know it.”
I’m not worried about that. I’m worried about the shrieking from Maris and Trista and probably Hattie too. “I should’ve brought earplugs.”
Korie shoves me.
We climb out, smoothing our shirts down and zipping up the tent. Then we wrap our arms around each other as we walk toward the tables where breakfast is set up.
Korie is buzzing with nervous energy, all giddy and unable to stay still. Quiet laughs keep slipping out as they go up on their toes, which only makes them more adorable.
It’s nice to see after the hell of the last few days.
Laura spots us first, eyes doing a quick double take. She reads our shirts, then looks up in surprise, grinning instantly.
“Oh, good morning, kids,” Maris says, scraping more eggs into a bowl.
“Hey, Mom,” Korie says.
We both stand there awkwardly, waiting for her to catch on. When she does, she literally drops the bowl. Half the eggs go flying to the ground, and her Labrador immediately trots over to gobble them up.
“Great. Now you cost us breakfast,” I mumble to Korie.
Korie pinches me.
“What… what is happening?” Maris stammers.
“Yeah, what is this?” Chris says, reading our shirts. Trista is beaming next to him, like she saw this coming a mile away.
Hattie gets up from the table with a huge grin on her face. “I knew it. I fucking knew something was going on… Holden, oh my god! I’m going to kill you for not telling me. Come here.”
She hugs us both tight. Korie laughs nervously, but their joy is unmistakable.
A few more people walk around to see our shirts, catching on to the commotion.
Korie stands beside me again, arm around my waist. “Yeah, so… uh, Holden and I have some news. We’re uh, officially together now.”
I cringe when the group erupts with sounds of joy.
I definitely could’ve used earplugs.
Korie ducks into my side laughing while everyone talks over each other. But for the first time in days, my chest doesn’t hurt and I feel like I can breathe.
They’re here.
They still love me.
We’re okay.
I pull Korie close. Korie turns to smile at me. No panic this time, no pulling away. Just joy. They don’t kiss me—that would send the noise level to the moon—but they lean into me, fully relaxed and content. And I can read it in their eyes.
I love you.
I smile back. I love you too.