Chapter Forty-Six Enzo #3
I was sure of it.
And that made me realize another truth. I had been blindly counting on him to wait for me while I worked on a better version of myself to offer him. That was how strong our bond was.
“Why?” I cleared my throat again, nervously.
“If it’s goodbye for now, I’ll walk out of here and nest for us, Enzo.
Make sure everything is ready for when you come back to me.
But if it’s goodbye forever…” He stared down at his feet, gathering the strength to push the words out.
“Then I’d rather know now so I can cut my losses, take the Chicago position, and go back to the gray life I had before you.
Get used to living in black and white again, instead of waiting for the next jolt of color. ”
“I–I’m your color?”
“You’re my butterfly.” His cheekbones reddened. “Of course you are. And I miss smiling.”
“I thought I was a butterfly because metamorphosis.”
“You’re a butterfly for too many reasons to count, Enzo. All of them good.”
“I promise I’ll make you smile, still,” I said. “Even as I work on myself. Will you wait for me?”
A sad smile touched his lips. “I’ve waited for you my whole life. Before I even knew who you were.”
“And there’ll be no one else?” I felt my face heating.
He shook his head. “For you?”
“No,” I whispered. “Never, Tomcat.”
He didn’t ask how long I’d take. He knew I didn’t know the answer. And then we were drawn to each other like magnets, meeting halfway in the hallway, exploding in each other’s arms in a mess of desperate limbs. I sucked in a breath, the scent of him hitting the bottom of my lungs.
I couldn’t stop shaking. I clutched the nape of his neck, burying my face in his shoulder, and let the tears flow. I knew he would never judge me for crying, or for anything else. Besides, those were tears of relief.
I’d done it. I’d survived. I’d managed to be myself in a world that demanded I be someone else. Tom held me tightly, like he was squeezing all the pus out of me.
“Thank you for everything,” I whispered against his skin.
“Anytime, kid.” He stroked my hair gently, burying his nose inside it, breathing me in. “I’ll give up my everything a million times more if it means saving you.”
“Oh my God, you are Clark Kent.”
He laughed, pushing me off him. I flashed him a cocksure grin, glad to lighten the mood.
“It’s going to hurt not to see you every day.” He put his hand on my cheek.
“You’re just saying that because I’m irresistibly beautiful.”
“You are irresistibly beautiful,” he agreed.
“But you won’t be that way forever. One day, you’ll wake up in a lived-in body.
With wrinkles, and skin too soft, and a scar or two, and sunspots, and no ab definition.
” I gave him a horrified look, but the heathen continued.
“Your chiseled jawline will be hidden under saggy skin, and all that glossy hair will either fall out or turn gray, and you know what? I will still love you. I’ll love you even more, because I’ll have more memories of us together. ”
I couldn’t help it. I grabbed his jaw, yanked him to me, and kissed him.
Kissed him like the world was ending, with tongue and teeth and demanding sucks that produced moans from both of us.
I hardened inside my slacks and could feel his cock growing thick against my thigh.
I rolled my hips, seeking friction, a mounting surge of pleasure swirling inside me.
Fuck. If we could have just one quickie to help me pull through…
“No,” Tom said firmly into my mouth, mid-kiss. I laugh-whined against his lips. He always knew how to read my mind.
“Please.”
He gave me a gentle slap on the ass. “Go work on your shit, and call me when you’re ready.”
“What about a handjo—”
“Enzo.”
“Argh.” I forced myself to pull away, even though all I wanted was to drag him into my bed and fuck into the next millennium.
“You want the milk, you buy the cow,” he said primly.
“That’s fucking bullshit, and you know it! I just need one carton of milk!” I whined. “Or…a gallon or two.”
Did I really need to work on myself? I was fine.
Dr. Andrews’s voice trickled into the front of my mind. It had recently replaced my father’s ramblings.
To be able to give, you must learn to take, and to put your needs first.
Jesus fucking Christ. I guess it was just me and my hand today.
“You better not break any spines for bachelors in distress and follow any hot gym rats on Insta while I’m making myself better for you.” I stabbed a finger in his chest.
“I already said I’ll wait for you.” He brushed the tip of his nose against mine, holding me close.
I stole another quick peck on his lips. “I do expect you to keep stalking me, though. If not in real life, then at least on my socials.”
He mustered a smile, even though I knew now, more than ever, he didn’t feel like flashing one. And I loved him all the more, for all the sacrifices he was still making for me. For us.
“You can count on it, kid. Stalking you is what I do best.”
And I couldn’t explain it, but I knew, in that moment, that we were going to be okay.