In Between Days: Raising Jordan (boyxman)✅

Nothing But Flowers

Jamie

Instead of getting off me and running the hell away from this freak (i.e. me), Jordan bent over and kissed my lips through my unexplainable, stupidly boyish tears. "Jamie Cry Baby" was my nickname in school, beginning in kindergarten and lasting until...well, let me think...oh never. I just learned how to stop crying in public. Kids always made fun of me, everyone except Tim who didn't laugh at anything. I cried even when there was no good reason to cry or at least that's what my parents said. So why now? Who the fuck knows? Maybe my feelings for Jordan simply overwhelmed me. For the longest time, I believed I'd never feel connected to anyone ever again after Gavin died. And then there was this other part of me that knew this feeling I had for Jordan wouldn't...or couldn't....last forever. I was fairly certain that this little thing we had together was going to be short-lived. There were way too many years between us. Or did that really matter? I don't know...

How could I let this happen? Because I'm Jamie Perron and I always think with my heart and whatever feels good. Just call me "hedonistic Jamie." Story of my life.

"This feels so weird," Jordan said, still sitting on me. With my hands on his waist, I laughed and cried at the same time. Although we had finished, Jordan didn't budge.

"Are you alright?" I asked, sniffing back my tears.

"Uh...yeah," he said, his confusion turning into concern. 

"Just ignore me. I'm fine," I said. "I'm okay. Don't worry about me. I'm okay." I brought my fingers to his head of thick damp curls. "You're all sweaty."

"You're all sticky," he said, rubbing my stomach with his hands.

Throughout the night, I came so close to telling him how I really felt, but something stopped me. I must have been really out of my mind, falling in love like this so quickly, even after this little shit spit, shoved, kicked, and bit me. Who was I kidding, anyway? All those things made me fall for him even harder and quicker. Wrapping my arms around him, I rolled him onto his back, finally pulling out of him. He giggled, which made me love him even more. 

Leaning against him, my legs stretched out beside his as he held one arm around my waist and the other over my chest. He kissed the side of my head.

"It didn't hurt, you know," he said. "Well, maybe a little, but not like I thought it would."

"Did you think about it a lot?" I asked. "Before we did it? Was it something you thought about a lot?"

"Thinking about what?" he asked. I was sure he knew what I meant.

"Sex," I said bluntly because Jordan often responded best to bluntness.

"No," he said. "Well, maybe I did, but only a little." Turning my head toward him, I looked at him hard with curiosity. He noticeably blushed, so I suspected he had probably been thinking about it a lot.

"You were great," I said. "More confident than I ever was my first time, that's for sure."

"You were taking too long," he said. "To make up your mind, that is. Is it my fault you're sad?"

"I'm not sad," I said. "I just cry easily."

"I've never seen you cry."

"Because you don't know me that well," I said. "Ask Tim. He knows."

"So it's nothing I did?"

"No," I said, squeezing his arm. "You're great, Jordan. Really...don't ever believe you're not." Jordan kissed the side of my face again. "I'm not sad," I said, pulling him into my lap. "Just fucked up."