Open [boyxboy] ✓

thirty-three:: when you go on your second date.

Fluff

THIRTY-THREE: when you go on your second date.

"Julian, we have to talk about this..." It was Wednesday: officially three days since I'd dropped the bomb about moving back home and I'd been avoiding Paul's questioning like the plague. We were getting ready for a date. I'd brought it up the night before to escape the queries like a virgin escaping an orgy and we'd been laying in his bed, watching Orange is the New Black and whereas Paul was in it for the storyline, I had to fake a shit halfway through to handle the rise in my pants.

Safe to say, it was eventful.

Now Paul was picking a shirt in his closet and he'd poked his curly head out to look out at me and suggest a talk.

And sure, I wanted to talk to him about it, absolutely, but there was this mindset is often learned to place myself in where if I don't mention it, it's fine and I'm okay. My heart felt heavy and I never wanted to stand up nowadays but it was fine and I was okay.

"Forget it, Paul, I was just overwhelmed." And it wasn't exactly a lie. I'd been extremely overwhelmed and my father's doubt had found its way to increase mine. But no, it was fine and I was okay. I was okay with Paul there and although I fell apart when I was alone, I could handle it.

It wasn't that deep.

"It's your life, Jules. You have a right to live it how you want to."

"Paul, really—"

But he was already next to me, he was brushing off my shoulders, massaging them gently before holding my biceps. And he was catching my eyes with that gentle smile of his."I'm not gonna have feelings about you deciding what's best for yourself."

When I looked up, his eyes were on me, waiting... He was patient with his words, always giving me a supportive front and I always took him for granted.

"Look. We can talk about it or we can just watch a movie or something... I want you to know that you don't have to leave... and you don't have to stay."

"I wanna stay."

He smiled, it small and so full in deep brows. And he was chuckling softly to himself.

Instead of responding, he'd kissed me.

Paul took my face in his hands and tugged me close. He skin was warm, always was, he had this depth to him that made you feel so... comfortable.

My heart rate slowed.

Softly, he brushed his lips against mine.

And he kissed me so softly. Once. Twice, harder than the last. He kisses my nose.

And then my lips again, he's resting his forehead against mine. "You're always welcome here, okay?"

It's too sincere.

My heart rate quickens, a gentle thrum of energy compresses my vocal chords. Paul kisses me again and he's reaching for the hem of my shirt. "I want you..."

He's kissing down my neck now. Fingertips brush against my waist, over the waistband and taps the skin there. He's resting a hand in the small of my back, warm skin on mine and warming me to the touch.