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“S’fine. What’s wrong? Is he okay?” My voice cracks, and I wish I could say it’s from sleep.
Ahhh my heart is already feeling sad 😭😭😭
“Right here. Next to me. We’re at a diner. Everything was going okay, and then someone dropped a frying pan, I think, in the kitchen.” He huffs, and it’s only now I can make out the frustration in his voice. “It was loud and sudden and—” “Like a gunshot,”
Way 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
A noise reaches my ears, like a frustrated growl, or groan, coming deep from within his chest, repressed like his lips are sealed tight. “Hey, baby,” I breathe. His breath hitches, and despite everything, my lips rise. Lashes drop. Peace washes through me, as slow and steady as a summer breeze. But it’s not lasting. “Will.” Fuck.
💔💔💔💔💔
“Easy,” I say, instilling a calmness in my voice I’m 100 percent faking. “You’re okay. You’re here, I’m here. The guys are with you. We’re all good.” “You’re not here,” he says forcefully. I can practically feel the pressure of his teeth clenching through the words. “You’re not fucking here.”
Oh my god my heart is breaking
“Nope. Forget about that. Did you drown them in syrup?” “Obviously.” He makes a sound of disgust. His voice is much steadier now as he says, “I think it’s in my hair. I may’ve dove for cover face-first into the plate.” I roll my lips together. It shouldn’t be funny, but it is. “Shut up.” “I didn’t say anything.” “Your face did.”
Bitch i love them 😭
“Nah,” I say easily. “I’m sure I would’ve done something even more embarrassing had I been there, like shove you under a table or something. Maybe threw the syrup bottle at Butter Finger’s head.” He doesn’t say anything to that. A heavy moment passes. “Or maybe I would’ve shoved you,” he finally says. “Maybe.” A beat. “But I’m quicker.” He groans. “Stronger.” “Fuck. Off.”
My emotions are going from 💔 to 🤣 so quick how is this even possible
“I’m fine,” he says, dragging out the word. I picture the barbell poking through his tongue flicking over his teeth, and fuck me, I should not be getting a boner right now. But I miss him. I miss him so much it steals my breath. I miss him more than I ever thought possible.
He’s there. I’m here. Thousands of miles away from each other, with nothing but a phone line to tether us.
I’m not fine, Way. I’m not fucking fine, and neither are you, and this, right now, saying goodbye to you, knowing just how not fine you are, but not being able to see you, kiss you, touch you, and breathe you in… It’s straight up agony.
There’s a joke in there somewhere, and for a second the pressure in my chest eases as I think of Will. I don’t really think he’d appreciate the joke though, pun and all. Too soon, he’d say. To which I’d say back, When will it not be?
Yup too soon my guy
Because I had my first panic attack in weeks last night, and it’s the first one I had in over a year that I didn’t have Will with me to talk me the fuck down. I mean, sure, he tried to. Okay, he did. But a cold, hard phone against my ear isn’t exactly the same as a soft pair of lips against my head. Or strong arms holding me tight. Hearing him breathe means shit to nothing when I can’t feel it on my cheek. When I can’t feel his heart thumping against my chest.
Spoiler alert: we did not make any kind of way today, because said Way, as in yours truly, kept fucking everything up. Losing count, losing focus, losing my patience…
“But tomorrow should be better,” Shawn says quietly, voice heavy with some unnamed… something. I feel my face bunch. Will it though? He sounds far too certain for my liking. My gaze meets his, and something there gives me pause. But he’s too quick to look away for me to try and figure out what it is. “Definitely gonna be a better weekend,” Mason says in a sly voice, yanking me out of my thoughts when he messes up my hair. I side-eye him with a glare as I finally manage to shove him off. “Shut up.”
me: 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏
Not until it’s too late and I crash into Mason’s back. My singing cuts off with an oomph and a bark of laughter. “Dude.”
OMG WILL IS HERE ABSHSNSNAN
His eyes are on mine, and mine are on his, and the whole damn city of Los Angeles could be burning right now for all I know. Now, I think. Now I’m happy. Not just happy, but relieved. Relieved I never gave up, never gave in, just so I could get to this moment. Right. Fucking. Here.
That is, until he opens his big, stupid, sexy mouth and ruins everything. “Is he drunk?”
NO WILL ☠️☠️
My boyfriend is fucking falling apart in my arms right now and I have no idea what to do. Fuck, did something happen to his parents? “Will,” I breathe, glancing down at him. But I don’t think he hears me. “Did something happen?” He just holds me tighter. Okay then.
😭😭😭😭😭😭
It’s more like he’s trying really, really fucking hard to hold it together. Like he’s imploding into himself, and he’s using me as a shield to keep it all contained.
He’s here, I think. That’s all that matters in this second. The rest is just noise.
I should feel worse about that, but frankly I’m just too spent to care about anything other than the fact he’s holding my hand. In public. Not for the first time, no, he did that in Philly months ago, but it still matters. It still means something. It will always mean something.
It means the world 🥺
I take in his wet, inky black hair. The droplets of rain streaking down his smooth, sculpted cheeks, and clinging to thick dark lashes. The pulse fluttering under his clenched jaw, and the purse of his normally full lips. Fuck, this boy is beautiful.
My lashes flutter open to find Waylon watching me with tear-filled eyes. He’s not quite smiling, but his dimples are out, sinking deep into his cheeks.
I missed way’s dimples 😭
A grunt punches out of me as I reach up, fork my fingers in his hair, and wrench his head back. Waylon’s lashes flutter up at the ceiling. Mouth agape. So much for sex being the last thing on our minds.
HOT
“You need sleep,” he says to the ceiling, voice strained. I rub my nose back and forth over his jaw. “I need you,” I utter thickly. He gives a stilted nod. “Have me.”
“God, I could eat you,” I say into a groan as I drop my face to his shoulder. I open my mouth, nibbling at his flesh. He tastes like sweat and rain water, dirty but mine.
“You just gonna stand there and gawk, City Boy,” he drawls, kicking away the last article of clothing, “or are you gonna make good on that promise you made me the other day?”
My mouth ticks up and I shake my head. I know I need to sleep. Know we need to talk. Know our growing issue of long-distance relationshipping is far from solved. But right now… Right now I’m gonna make my cocky, stubborn-ass boyfriend forget his own name.
At one point, I throw the loofah I was using at his chest. Will grabs my wrist, tugging me to him with a growl that breaks a low laugh out of me. We’re all jabbing elbows and soapy fingers and not-so-secret looks as we fight for the shampoo. It’s insane. Loving him this easily… Like every piece of me was made for every piece of him.
That’s so fucking cute, they’re so in love 🥺🥺🥺🥺
Watching him now, it’s hard to believe it was just an hour ago, not even, that I was losing my shit on the side-streets of LA. When he’s here, in reaching distance, it doesn’t feel so pathetic to want him, need him, breathe for him.
After rinsing out the suds from my hair, I step forward and press my hands to his chest, smoothing my fingers over his hard muscles. His heart thumps steadily against my palm. Nipples pebbling between my fingers. Nope, definitely real. Yet impossibly all mine.
“Good boy.”
Oh my…..😳
Warm, slick hands stroke over my cheeks. “God, I’ve missed this ass. Maybe even more than who it belongs to.” That startles a choked laugh from me. My knuckles push against my skin as I dig my bruised fingertips into the mirror. “You’re such a dic—” My words cut out with a sharp hitch of air as I feel his teeth clamp down on my ass. “Be nice,” he says softly, before flicking his tongue over my skin to soothe the ache.
UGH HOW ARE THEY SO CUTE AND HOT AT THE SAME TIME
“I might be in love with this bathroom.” I might be in love with you. But I don’t say that. That would defeat the purpose of… of… well, fuck I don’t know, his tongue’s now in my ass, wreaking havoc on my senses. There’s really no might about it. I’m in love with this guy. In love with the way he loves me, fiercely and unabashed. The way he makes me feel, the way his mouth feels on my body, in my body. Jesus Christ, he’s fucking me with his tongue. So. Much. Love. All of it. I’ve got nothing else left in me.
“I’m going to devour you. Make you forget everything but the feel of my mouth on you. Gonna make you scream.” To which I told him, “Bet.” …knowing full well I’d lose.
I reach down to give myself a squeeze, some kind of relief, only for Will to pinch my ass. “Hands on the wall.”
😳
His gaze drifts lazily down my body, teeth sawing into his bottom lip. “I love you like this.” “Just like this?” A slight shake of his head. “I love you always.” My chest rises. Pretty sure my heart damn near stutters. His eyes lift to mine, so dark, I can’t make out their blues. “But I especially love when you take what you want.” My voice is rough, wrecked as I say, “Pretty sure you’ll be doing the taking.”
Fuck, ten days is too long to go without this. And to think a year ago, I actually believed I could go the rest of my life without it. Without this. Without him.
But I just continue to breathe through it, knowing it will pass. Knowing what comes next. Prepping doesn’t take nearly as long as it used to. My body now welcomes the invasion. It’s when he leaves that it revolts. “Goddamn, baby,” he says, scissoring two fingers in and out of me. “So fucking tight for me. My balls are aching. Definitely not gonna last once I’m inside you.”
I- 😳😳😍😍😍
My mouth is so dry, I have to swallow before I can manage to whimper, “Will, please.” I’m fucking dying here, man. I don’t even care that I’ve been reduced to begging.
“Breathe, baby,” he chokes out. I can’t even be sure he’s breathing. He’s inside me. Will’s inside me. Buried so deep within me, it’s hard to remember missing him.
Holy fuck. This time, I know the sounds coming out of me are anything but human. He wins, he wins, he wins all the things, I think stupidly, eyes rolling back into my head.
There’s a frantic, almost unhinged edge to the way he’s pounding into me, one I’ve never quite felt from him before. Not like this. It’s animalistic and desperate and I realize— He’s been holding back. The thought forms, settles, then fractures, slipping through my fingers like sand. That fucker. That beautiful fucking fucker.
Hunger like nothing I’ve ever felt before consumes me, and it’s a damn crime it took this long to get here. To this moment, where he is me and I am him, and I will destroy anything or anybody who tries to sever us. Unhealthy, my ass. This love is just straight up primal. Our need for each other ingrained in us as deeply as our need for air. Inescapable. Losing him would literally kill me, and I don’t care what anyone has to say about that.
I watch through heavily lidded eyes as he lifts a hand to his face and spits all the cum he just collected with his mouth into his palm.
OH MY GOD YALL
His lip is red and swollen. It quivers. “Did I— Did I hurt you?”
Noooo will you rocked his goddamn world like WOW 😭
“Will,” I choke out on a laugh. “Are you serious? That was the single hottest fucking moment of my life. What…” I drift off, blinking fast. I shake my head, unable to find the words. My brain is still offline. I smile stupidly. “How…”
He’s been holding back🥺
“If you ever hold back with me again,” I tell him gravely, fighting a smile. “I’ll never forgive you.” Deep ocean blue eyes search mine, like he’s looking for something. I don’t know what it is, but whatever he finds has redness creeping around the edges and tears welling at the bottoms. What the— My grip on his face loosens just as he chokes out, “I-I missed you.”
💔💔💔💔💔💔 that stutter 💔💔💔💔💔💔
“I’m sorry.” “Shut up,” I tell him, voice breaking. I bury my nose in his wet hair. “Shut up so hard.” His shoulders shake at that and I smile. He’s bigger than me, only just. And usually a force strong enough to withstand anything. But tonight, right now, he’s mine to hold. Mine to protect. Mine to shield from what tomorrow might bring.
“We’re gonna be okay,” I promise him, smiling into his hair. Fingers dig into my back, clutching onto me. “Still beating?” Will rasps, just loud enough for me to hear. I blow out a breath, tip my head back toward the Heavens, and squint into the downpour of water just like I did earlier in the rain. “Yeah,” I tell him strongly. “Still beating.”
Still beating 😭😭😭😭😭😭
A warm, heavy weight is plastered against my right side. An inked arm is thrown over my chest. Soft puffs of air blow on my bare chest where Waylon’s face is smushed against my pec.
🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺
