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Giving me this moment, or maybe giving himself this moment. I don’t fucking know. All I know is that there are tears stinging my eyes, and regret in my heart, and I’m so goddamn in love with this boy I think I might burst.
“Roll over, I wanna see your face,”
“I’ll go slow.” He studies my face. “I know. I know. I trust you. Now get in me, Jesus fucking Christ.”
“I love you,” I tell him in a croak. His eyes are reddened and too bright—the brightest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. A smile spreads across his face, sinking in his cheeks. And with just two simple fucking words, I’m done for. “Show me.”
He blinks a couple times, and wets his lips. His teeth chatter. “You-you’re inside me.” “I’m inside you.” “Kiss me.”
I can still feel him inside me. An aching sort of emptiness that isn’t exactly pleasant, but it’s not unbearable. Hell, if anything, I might be a little in love with it. The pain. The reminder. His love for me… Show me, show me, show me
“This is real, right?” My eyes fall shut and I nod. A soft noise breeches his throat. “If it isn’t,” I whisper against the sharp jut of his thumb, feeling the way my lip drags over his skin, “I don’t wanna wake up.”
“I don’t have to give you the talk, do I?” My brow furrows. “The talk?” He arches a bushy dark brow. “You’re a good kid. But that boy—wherever you’re hiding him right now—he’s my entire world.”
“If he’s mouthin’ off too much, it might just mean he’s hungry. Or constipated.” “Dad!”
“Don’t hesitate to reach out for help. Seamus had power then, but he doesn’t now. Don’t forget that.”
“One day, I’m gonna hold your hand in public, and not feel like I’m dying when I do it.”
“It’s not your job to love who brought you into this world unconditionally. It’s the other way around. You don’t owe me anything.”
“That’s the burden of motherhood. One we happily carry with us.”
Someone shouts as I grip my dad by the back of the neck and shove his face into the wood countertop. Bending over him, I hiss in his ear, “Don’t.” I shake him, squeezing his flesh in my hands. “Don’t you dare fucking say his name. Don’t even look at him. You shouldn’t even be breathing the same fucking air as him,” I grit out. “Got it?”
“But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter ’cause he still hates you.” I ping-pong my gaze between his eyes, grinning viciously. “He loves me—fairy boy and all—and he despises you. How’s that for some poetic fuckin’ justice?”
“If you ever come anywhere near me again,” I tell my dad tightly, chest aching like I’ve been running for miles, “I will do whatever it takes to get you fucking sent right back to prison. I do not want to see or hear from you again, and if you ever go anywhere near Will…” I pause, dropping my mouth by his ear once more as I grip his neck even tighter. He squirms under my weight, bucking like a defenseless little animal. “I will not hesitate to end you.”
Just when I thought I had nothing left to give him, he goes and finds another piece of my heart to steal. Doesn’t he already realize it’s all his? What a goddamn asshole. He’s such a goddamn asshole. I sniff against his neck. “Love you.”
“I don’t wanna be ashamed of what I feel for him.”
“Gay or not, I wanna be fucking proud to call him mine.”
“It’s always been him, even when I didn’t want it to be, and I want to own that fact. Not hide it.”
Is it pathetic? Unmanly, that I…feel so much these days? Maybe. But also, fuck that and fuck you. Who decided it was a crime for boys to fucking feel? Who decided we can’t be soft too?
