Work for It

by Talia Hibbert

I think he might be sun and air and water. I think I might be hooked on the feeling of having him.

I’ve liked lots of men, kissed lots of men, found myself tempted by a forest blowjob with lots of men, but I don’t recall ever giving a shit about their daily lives, achievements or disappointments.

Lolz

“I don’t think you want seduction. I think you want someone to know you,” I say honestly, “and this is all about what you want, Olu.”

I wonder if he hears my heart pounding out his name.

He’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. “You wouldn’t do a thing like that, would you?” he asks, and it seems so natural, so obvious that he’d know—of

Of course he knows

“You’re not supposed to top from the bottom.”

But what I have is a week, a rare opportunity, a handful of soon-to-be memories, and a man who doesn’t know I love him.

I can’t make foolish choices just because my feelings about myself have started to improve. Friendship and intimacy are two different things, and one of those things has consistently proved beyond me. But the weaknesses swear that Griff isn’t like everyone else, that we’re something entirely different together, something precious, never-before-seen under this sun. Something perfectly us.

He never told me out loud that he feels constantly rejected, that it digs into his skin like a burr. I noticed that fact on my own, and then I used it.

I’ll try, anyway. The love of my life once told me that trying’s all we can do.

“You’re not a burden, Olu, not to anyone, and especially not to me. I know you’re depressed. I know you have bad thoughts sometimes. I know all that, and I love you as you are. I want you to feel better, but I love you as you are.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” And I mean it—I simply don’t know. But I want it to be. Griff must see that because his gaze holds mine steadily, quietly understanding. “Will you let me convince you?”