26. What If #3
He wanted to kiss him. And for once, it didn’t feel like a disaster. For once, it felt like he could have what he wanted. Like maybe he deserved it.
He leaned towards him slowly, just a little, not all the way, leaving it in Dae’s hands. For a single crackling moment, Dae froze, his breath catching.
And then his lips found Theo’s, and the very axis of the universe shifted with the power behind one, soft, lovely kiss, feather-light and over too quickly.
Dae shifted back to look at him, his pupils blown wide, and Theo memorized everything about him: the pink of his cheeks, the shine of his lips, the desire in his eyes.
And then he leaned in again, the press of his lips a plea.
Please, Dae. Give me more.
Their mouths moved slow at first, sliding together, then apart, heads tilting, breath tickling.
Dae. He was kissing Dae, and it was lighting him on fire in a way he hadn’t been prepared for, not even after years of imagining it.
The wanting was almost frightening—how much he needed it, how he knew, somewhere in the depths of himself, that this was right.
Theo parted his mouth, inviting him in, and their bodies melted together as Dae deepened the kiss, his hand moving to the back of Theo’s head, tangling into his hair.
Theo’s hands roamed, wrapping around Dae’s middle, and he shifted, practically crawling into his lap in his desperation to get closer, to be completely consumed by him in every way.
Dae. His Dae. He’d wanted this for so long.
The kisses became desperate, frantic, lips parting with gasping breath only to come back together, as if they needed to make up for all the lost time.
Dae’s guttural moan as Theo slid his tongue against his sparked something deep in his gut.
He was so fucking hard, but this was about so much more than sex, so much more than attraction.
It was everything Theo had ever dreamed it would be.
Not perfect, but something far better—real.
He was kissing Dae, and Dae was kissing him back, and life stretched out before him as a glowing, thrumming thread of happiness.
But then Dae pulled away.
Theo’s body moved with him, connected by whatever this was. As if it were now impossible for one to move without the other.
But apparently he’d gotten it wrong.
“Shit.” Dae detangled himself and slid away from him on the floor. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” He couldn’t catch up. Couldn’t piece it together.
Dae ran a hand down his face, as if wiping the desire away, and all that was left now was horrified regret.
“Fuck. I’m so sorry. You’re in distress, you’re not in your right mind, and I—” He stood abruptly, backing away from Theo like he was a growing hole in the floor, ready to swallow him up again.
“I took advantage of… shit. I’m—I’m sorry. ”
“Stop saying you’re sorry.” His own voice came out as hollow and flat as he felt. Dae regretted it. Didn’t want him.
Dae retreated so far that his back hit the wall.
“I’m not going to turn this into one of those things, one of those awful misunderstandings that’s not talked about, okay?
I think we should probably—” He clutched his chest and took a few rapid breaths.
“No, definitely need to talk about this, and figure out, I mean…” He winced, shaking his head.
“I’m screwing this up. I’m just saying, later, okay? When you’re… And when I’m…”
Hope started to build again, ever so slowly, like a tiny, fragile flame flickering against a breeze. “When you’re able to finish a sentence?”
Dae let out a relieved breath, his pained expression lifting slightly. His face was flushed and his lips swollen. “Yes.”
Theo was still too shaky to stand, so they stayed there, staring at each other as the heat of the kiss transformed into something cool and uncertain.
Tara? His dad’s callous tone took one more tour around Theo’s head and he finally nodded. “You’re right. I wasn’t in my right mind. This was stupid.”
Not a mistake, not a regret, but definitely stupid, just as Dae had said. It needed more thought. Needed to be solid, needed to be a promise, and he couldn’t do that while he was a quivering mess on the floor.
Dae’s entire essence changed: breath even, muscles tense, jaw tight. “Right, so, until we figure it out, we’ll just go back to…”
“Finishing sentences.”
“Yeah.” Not a smile, exactly, but a release. A concession. “Friends.”
Not what Theo had meant, but he couldn’t argue. No matter what else they were, they would always be friends.
He somehow managed to stand and took a few unsteady steps towards his bedroom. “I knew I should’ve skipped today.”
No response. No movement. Dae stayed exactly where he was until Theo was in his room, door shut. It wasn’t until he was in his bed, a pillow clutched tight to his chest, the events of the day settling into his soul, that he began to cry.
Keeping his sobs quiet hurt his muscles, but he kept at it for a long time, trying to let everything out. But apparently crying wasn’t a magic cure for hurt and confusion, because his brain was still a scrambled mess, and his heart still ached.