Epilogue Home #2
The tears come before I can stop them. One hot track down my cheek, then another, and I’m pressing the heel of my hand harder against my eye like I can shove them back in, but they keep coming, spilling over my fingers, dripping off my chin.
My chest is heaving, ugly and ragged, and I hate it, hate how exposed I am, hate that I can’t even finish a sentence without falling apart.
“Chase.” Nick’s voice, right beside me. His big hands find my face, cupping my jaw, turning me toward him, and his thumbs wipe the tears away and they just keep coming.
He kisses me, soft, his lips warm and steady against mine and tasting like salt, and I make a sound against his mouth that’s half sob and half relief.
Then Kieran is there too. His hand slides around the back of my neck, his fingers threading into my hair, and his mouth finds my other cheek, kissing the tear tracks, his lips moving from my cheekbone to the corner of my eye, gentle in a way that makes me cry harder.
He kisses my temple, my forehead, the bridge of my nose where the freckles are, and each press of his lips is so careful, so deliberate, that the sobs shaking my chest start to loosen.
“Don’t cry,” Kieran murmurs against my skin. “Sweetheart, don’t cry.”
His mouth finds mine, slow and tender, a different thing entirely from the hungry kisses at the door. His lips move against mine like he’s trying to pour something warm and solid into me, and I kiss him back through the tears, my hands fisting in the front of his shirt, holding on.
Nick’s arms wrap around me from behind, his chest pressed to my back, his chin resting on my shoulder.
His lips find the side of my neck, pressing soft kisses there, and I’m sandwiched between them, cocooned in their bodies, and the tears are still coming but slower now, quieter, because they’re kissing them away.
Kieran pulls back first. His hands stay on my face, his thumbs tracing the wet tracks on my cheeks, and his dark guarded eyes are bright. Wet at the corners, and he doesn’t blink them clear.
He turns his head. Looks at Nick over my shoulder.
“Is that true?” His voice cracks on it. Two words, and they come out broken. His jaw works, the muscle jumping, and his eyes are locked on Nick and not moving. “What he said. About you. Is that true?”
Nick’s arms tighten around me. His chest expands against my back, the deep breath he takes, and his chin presses harder into my shoulder.
“Yeah,” Nick says, quiet and absolute. He nods against my skin. “It’s true. I love the shit out of Chase, of course I do. But I also love you, Kieran. We’re better with you.”
Kieran’s jaw tightens, his throat works, and his eyes drop to the floor between us. His hands are still on my face, but they’ve gone still, his thumbs frozen mid-stroke against my cheekbones.
“Kieran,” I whisper.
He sighs. “I figured you two were destiny. That this was always going to be you two. That eventually you’d look at each other and realize you didn’t need me anymore, and I’d just—” He stops and swallows.
His jaw clenches so hard I can see the muscle jumping.
“I didn’t want to be there when that happened.
I didn’t want to watch you figure out I don’t make sense in your life.
Didn’t want to be temporary like I was for Lilah. ”
I can’t get any air. I reach up and grab his wrists, holding his hands against my face because I need him to stay, need him to feel that I’m real and solid and not going anywhere.
“No,” I say. “No, Kieran, that’s not—that’s not what this is. We want you. Both of us. We want you so much it fucking hurts.”
Nick’s arms tighten around me, and then he’s moving, stepping around me, his big body crowding into Kieran’s space.
His hands find Kieran’s face the same way Kieran found mine, cupping his jaw, turning him so their eyes meet.
Nick’s thumbs trace the line of Kieran’s cheekbones, slow enough that I have to look away.
“Hey,” Nick says. “Look at me.”
Kieran looks at him. His dark eyes are bright, too bright, and his jaw is clenched hard enough to shake.
“We fight over who gets to hold you first when you walk through the door. Chase draws you when he thinks nobody’s looking.
Did you know that? He’s got a whole sketchbook of you.
And I think about you during practice. When I’m running drills I’m counting down the minutes until I get to see you, thinking of new recipes to try for you.
You’re not temporary, Kieran. You’re ours. We want you to be ours.”
Kieran’s breath hitches. His hands drop from my face and find Nick’s wrists, gripping them, and his eyes are glassy now, the light catching the wetness building there.
His lower lip trembles once, barely, and then he’s pulling Nick in, crushing their mouths together, and the kiss is desperate, hungry, Kieran’s hands fisting in Nick’s shirt like he means to keep it.
Nick kisses him back just as hard, his hands sliding from Kieran’s face to the back of his neck, gripping.
The sound they make together is wet and desperate and half-swallowed, and it goes through my gut in a way that has nothing to do with sex and everything to do with the way Kieran’s shoulders are shaking.
Kieran pulls back first. His chest is heaving, his lips swollen, and his eyes are wet and dark and completely unguarded. He looks at Nick like he’s seeing him for the first time.
“I love you,” Kieran says. The words come out rough, like they cost him something. His hand finds Nick’s cheek, his thumb tracing the line of his jaw, and Nick’s eyes go wide and bright and his mouth opens like he’s about to say something but nothing comes out. “I love you, Nick.”
Then Kieran turns to me.
His hand finds my face again, his palm warm against my cheek, and his thumb wipes away the last tear tracking down my skin. His eyes are red-rimmed, shining, and the look on his face is so open that my breath catches in my throat.
“And I love you so much, sweet boy.” His voice cracks on the last two words, and his forehead drops to mine, our noses brushing. His breath is warm and shaky against my lips. “I love you so goddamn much it terrifies me.”
I can’t speak. My throat is too tight, too full of relief and grief and joy all tangled together, and I press my forehead harder against his and let the tears come, quiet this time, steady, because there’s nothing left to hold back.
Nick’s hands land on Kieran’s shoulders from behind. Big, warm, steady. He steps close, his chest pressing against Kieran’s back, and his mouth finds the side of Kieran’s neck.
Slowly, the kisses deepen, and our hands begin to roam, and I need to be close to him, skin to skin.
I reach for the hem of Kieran’s shirt, my fingers finding the fabric and pulling it up, and he lets me, his arms lifting so I can drag it over his head.
His chest is bare now, the tattoos I know by heart, the dark hair scattered across his pecs, the piercings in his nipples that I know make him shiver when I suck them.
I press my palm flat against his sternum, his heartbeat fast and strong under it, and his hand finds the back of my neck and pulls me in.
His mouth crashes into mine, and the kiss is different now, slow and reverent, his tongue sweeping against mine, his hand sliding from my neck down my spine, fingers splaying across the small of my back, pulling me flush against him.
His cock is hard against my stomach, thick and heavy through his jeans, and I rock my hips forward, grinding against him, and he groans into my mouth.
Nick’s hands are on both of us, one on Kieran’s shoulder and the other on my hip, and he’s kissing the side of Kieran’s neck, his teeth scraping the tattooed skin, and his free hand finds the button of my jeans.
The pop of it opening makes me gasp against Kieran’s mouth, and Nick’s fingers slip inside, pushing my jeans down over my hips, his knuckles brushing my cock through my boxers, and I moan.
“Let me see you.” Nick’s hands are already working the button of Kieran’s jeans, tugging them down, and Kieran kicks his boots off and steps out of the jeans.
His cock springs free, hard and flushed, the piercing glinting in the bedroom light, and Nick wraps one big warm palm around the shaft, and Kieran’s head drops back, a groan tearing out of his throat.
I shove my jeans the rest of the way off, kicking them aside, and drag my crop top over my head.
Nick’s hands are on me next, pulling my boxers down, and my cock slaps against my stomach, hard and leaking.
Nick’s fingers wrap around me, his grip firm and knowing, and he strokes me once, slow, his thumb brushing over the head where I’m already wet, and my knees buckle.
Kieran catches me. His arm around my waist, holding me up, and his mouth finds mine again, swallowing the sound I make. His free hand finds Nick’s cock through his sweats, palming him through the fabric, and Nick makes a noise that’s half laugh, half moan.
“Off,” Kieran says against my mouth, and his hand leaves my waist to tug at Nick’s hoodie.
Nick pulls it over his head in one motion, his chest bare and broad and golden.
Then his sweats are coming down, his cock thick and heavy and already dripping.
He steps out of them, naked and gorgeous, and Kieran’s hand is on him immediately, wrapping around his shaft, stroking him with the same rough, reverent grip he uses on me.
“Fuck, look at you two,” Nick says, and his free hand finds my cock again, his fingers wrapping around the base while Kieran works the shaft.
They’re both touching me, both stroking me, and my head falls back because it’s too much, two sets of hands and two different rhythms, and my cock is throbbing between their palms.