“Troy,” he whispers into my mouth. “I want you. I need you.” He pulls away so I can see him, and he cups my face in his hand, those green eyes set on me. I’ve known those eyes for years. When I’ve looked at them, I’ve known their pain. Their sadness. But I’ve never known them as well as I do now, in this moment. I’m lost in his gaze, not hiding any of myself from him, and I can tell he’s not hiding any of himself from me. These are our real selves, staring, panting, all desire and passion, just wanting each other. “I love you. I love you, Troy,” he says between heavy breaths. “I love you too,
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