My back hits the wall. It's a frenzy of hands and kissing and less air than needed.

My head is light.

I'm mindless, just happy, I don't think I've  ever been this happy. Warm, hard arms catacomb me, paint my body across his like artifact. His lips are on my neck now, soft hands glide up my back, dried paint gritting against my skin.

He's holding my waist, and my face and all over, he's desperate for it.

Our hips knock.

And Paul's biting my lip, there's a smile in it, one that knocks me back again.

His thumb tugs my bottom lip open, he teases before dragging a kiss into my top lip and flicking a serpent into my mouth.

I can't breathe.

"Pablo."

He hears me, still doesn't make way to stop. I don't want to either, I can't feel myself slowing down. There's nothing in my body that feels strong enough to pull away.

I'm touching his chest, it's hard under my fingers, he shivers when my ring finger catches his ring.

A darkness in his eyes then I'm on the wall.

It's accelerating, uncontrolled really, like a car crash happening in slow motion, his hands are up my shirt, my skin pulses where he touches.

Lips glide across my chin, his tongue dips out to taste my skin. It lights me up.

There are lips on my collar, before my shirts raising and I can't think.

I can't think when he kisses me like this. I know I should be thinking.

"Paul." He gives a slight hum.

It's quick, a small offering, I can't take it.

Like my body's communion and my lips are wine. Like he's the god I pray to.

Pulls my hips towards his, I go in offering, kisses me again, and we're beating against the picture frames on the walls.

"Babe—" he's kissing my neck, my leg hikes up, gives him a handful, he's plying my body towards his and as much as I love it, I have to hold for his chin.

Look him in the eye. I have to look him in the eye, it's the only way to bring us back down. We leave our bodies together and it feels so deep I know it'll scare him in an hour.

The guys will be home soon.

Still, he kisses me.

We're moving slow into dangerous territory, my hands have somehow found there way to his waistline, into his waistband and he's pushing against me. Like his body's caged, begging for some release.

Like he needs me, like it's everything to him.

And I can't trust myself more than my words.

He shakes his head, his hands are gliding into my hair now and there's that look in his eyes.

When he pulls my head back, looks me in my eyes again, this time it's to drink me in.

His stubble is sharp, cuts against my hand when I hold him there. It's sexy, how worked up he is, the darkness in those eyes that keeps me rooted. I'm outside my body and he cant stop touching not even for a moment.

"Baby..."

I watch him, the way he licks his lips, I hear the brokenness in my own words. It's more than I can handle but I've always been good at handling him.

And I want nothing more than to prove it. I need him to need me the way I need him.

It's breathless, knocks the wind out of me and my body's back in his. I'm jumping his bones before I can tell myself not to.

It feels like everything and I know he feels that too and this is bad. It's bad, it's not what we've discussed, not what I've promised. I've always been good with my promises, he knows that.

"We should- we have to stop." I say again, twenty seconds later as I'm coming up for air. We've made our way to the couch nearly and his hand tugs at my shirt again. It's teasing, the way his finger dips into my skin.

Grazes my stomach, warms there, burns me up. The way he hasn't tugged my shirt off, the waiting game, it's the best thing that's come out of this mess.

We have more patience than ever most days.

"We do." It's a whisper, filled with a smirk. A big grin then and he's coughing out a laugh, watches half my body hiked up on the side table, I'm too tall for this, it's funny, I know it is. I feel messy, I know he likes me like that.

I suck in a deep breath, watch as his eyes devour me.

He pushes me back, only slightly like I'm a tower waiting to fall, my back hits the cushion.

"So you need to stop touching me."

He's licking over his lips, tongue clips the side of his lip, lingers there. I wanna fuck him. He brushes his knee into my inner thigh, his knuckles over my hip and nudges my pants down.

Traces a finger there, watches my skin blush up.

"You want that?" Obviously not.

"We have to."

"No, you see, we really, really don't." He laughs, he's lacing hands up my back, pulls me closer, wedges his body between my legs and dips his head to the crook of my neck. "Cause I need you."

He bites down, it sends a shiver up my spine, memories flash through my head, a heat travels up my body. It feels like he's fucking me and I can't let it get further than this.

Like it will, like it always does, we avoid each other until I end up spread out and soaked. Until he's biting that same spot and I'm calling his name again.

And again and again.

"I don't want to break my promise." I'm pushing my hands to his waist, sliding them a little as I push him away so gently. I want him to grab my hands, stop me. "You told me to stop you."

He ghosts a groan over my lips. "I'm asking you to take it."

It's painful to push him away. I go through pain for him.

"Baby."

"Okay." It's relief and sadness all wrapped up in lust and I can't lose him again. "Fuck."

"Yeah." I feel that, it sinks into me. "Yeah." It's so fuckin hard.

"I want you so bad right now."

"We-we..." I wanna tell him that we deserve it, that we've been trying so hard and it's only right that we get what we need.

And then I'd be breaking my promise. "I'm gonna go to my room."

He wants to protest, my body protests enough for both of us and I haven't moved an inch.

"That's for the best."

"Yeah." It's painful to tug myself away, to push my body off the counter, lightning when he touches my wrist and it nearly pulls me in. "You can't follow me." I can't say no again.

"I won't..." he laughs, theres heat in it, brushes against my nose and warms the skin here. I feel hot, as red as the blush that's still washed up his neck and his hands steady me as I rock into him.

He leans closer, neck cricks and he speaks into my lips, "but I really, really want to."

It pulls a laugh from me, I kiss him softly, a peck.

It feels so sweet when he smiles again, this time it's warmer, he's lets me go.

•••

TWO YEARS SIX MONTHS AND THREE DAYS AGO

"Can I come over?"
His voice is breathless, likes he's been holding it.

"You wanna come over?"

Paul's moved his things in and taken a few weeks after the funeral to clean his grandmother's house. It's turned into him living there and not here, where his things are, where I am.

"Like now?" I don't know why I ask when I wanna say yes, maybe it's cause he doesn't call.

I gave him a few weeks to show up it's been nearly two months.

Normally, he comes home. But if things were normal, he wouldn't be living there.

"Yeah." He doesn't even sound sad.

"Okay." I nod though he can't see me, I'm glad it's healing, even if it's in isolation. I don't want there to be any reason for him to leave again. "Yeah, sure."

He doesn't arrive for another hour, barely lets me greet him at the door before I'm in his arms.

"Hi handsome." He's nuzzling his nose against my throat, pushing me into Ben's house a little further. He kicks the door shut, only reaching to lock it before picking me up.

And he's kissing all over my skin, he's pressing soft hands into pliable skin, pulling me closer as he takes my mouth with his.

Only releases me to lay me back on the couch, I cough out of my daze.

And he's kissing down my chest.

"Shit."

He's kissing my hipbone as he slides my shirt up, lines a trail of fire up to my nipple, takes it into his mouth. I'm hot, everywhere.

My body's stuck to his, wrapped around him. I've needed him and he needed space and now it feels like everything's fallen back into place.

"P-Papi—"

He groans. "You look sexy."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." And Paul's hiking my hips up in his lap, that way he likes to do to see all of me. He's thumbing at my waistband. "All freckled and-and blushy and muscly and-and— and suave. Like a young... James Dean."

It's twisty though, all of his words in that sentence. I can see the unfocused look in his eye now, the way he licks his lips.

"Have you been drinking?"

He's shaking his head for far too long.

"No." He's smiling then, that soft smile with all the love behind his eyes.

It's hard to not believe him when he's looking at me.

He doesn't look off, just horny and he's clawing at my chest, and then pushing firm hands over my biceps. He slides on top of me, bounces a little in my lap.  "You should fuck me."

"Babe..."

"Please?" He's begging, it's sexy. It makes my mouth water, my eyes widen. "Want you inside me." Purposeful, like he knows that that's what will make it right.

I can't worry for his grief when he's trying to peel my clothes off. "Need you."

"Baby." He's got me in his hand before I can think and we're nearing naked again. It's too fast, he's not healed. I know it can't be easy and I'm rethinking it.

I don't want to hurt his feelings but I know mindless sex can only hurt him more at this point, still, I bite my tongue, think of a way out of it.

"Do you have a condom?" He asks first, maybe it's what makes me think of if.

"No, I-I don't- I haven't bought any."

"It's fine... W-we never use them."

It feels like deja-vu, like a test I'm supposed to pass now. "I'll see if Ben has any..."

"Don't worry about it."

He's touching me again. I can't stop thinking that maybe we shouldn't be doing this. "Hey."

"What?"

"I-I- um... I just, I don't think we should." Maybe the persistence is turning him off but I know he'd want me to push. "Look, I'll just walk to the 7-eleven and—"

maybe when I get back you will have calmed down and we can communicate.

"You don't trust me or somethin'?" It's hard, empty. He's putting his shirt back on. He's pulling away so quickly, I get whiplash, nearly.

"It's not about trust." It can't be, not with how long we've been apart.

"You're the only one." He reminds. "You said you broke up with her."

"I did."
Because I am in love with you.

"Who then?" I'm in love with you.

"It doesn't matter." I haven't slept with anyone since Chloe.

I wouldn't insist if I didn't know that we needed some boundary. I didn't get tested in the last two months, even if Chloe and I used condoms. I needed to be careful, especially with him.

Even if the condoms aren't important, the conversation is. I want to talk to him more than I want to see him naked.

"Don't gimme that."

He asked me to be his friend, I had an obligation to do so now. But friends didn't mean that he was allowed to be upset about me seeing other people... it was his idea, he pushed for it and now he's upset at me and it doesn't feel right.

"I don't just sleep around. And I'm not gonna... not if this doesn't mean anything." I remind, maybe it comes out harsh cause he's looking at me crazy. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Whatever." The rest of his clothes are on faster than he took them off and I push away the regret.

"Baby—"

"No. Fuck you, Jules." It's empty, like it always is when he's drinking. I feel bad because I knew he was off. I feel bad because I let this get this far, and I knew he wasn't right.

"Are you- you're drunk." I'm angrier with myself more than I've ever been with him. I don't stand, I let him have some control over how far he can move from me and take note. "Pablo, it's... It's two pm and it's Tuesday, baby."

"I'm fine."

"When did you- why?" I know the questions annoy him but I can't imagine him sitting in that house all day.

By himself, drinking, wallowing. So deep in his own grief he's doing the same things he hated himself for.  "Baby..."

"You're fucking Andy?"

"What?" It's incredulous and he's looking at me like I've grown a third head.

"I saw the pictures, Julian. Saw you all over him, in his lap, kissing him at some party last week? You with him?"

"Pictures?" I was not in his lap, ever. I remembered the night, every minute of it, I was with Andy. It wasn't more than a few kisses, not enough to justify the freak out.

I've been alone, single, it's what he wanted.

"Are you sleeping with him?" Of course not. "you don't wanna answer that, do you? Because your life is none of my fucking business."

"If you're not taking care of yourself, that's my business."

"You think you're entitled to that information?" He laughs. "We're not together, Jules, that's pretty fucking obvious isn't it? Since you're sleeping with everyone."

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah, Shawn said—" Shawn. This random guy he met at the bar but says they met at a meeting. They're friends and I don't know how to take it but it's not with acceptance.

Cause who the fuck was Shawn and why do we care what he says?

"I'm not even gonna give that a thought so move on."

I wonder if he knows how much it pisses me off that he's bringing another man's opinion into our fight? Does he think that's okay?

"You didn't sleep with him?" He asks, it's bitter and angry and nothing I know him to be. I know he's off, it's obvious now and I'm tugging my clothes back on.

"I didn't—"

"But you fucked Calum." He laughs. "You didn't sleep with Carlos or Andy but you fucked Calum."

"Stop judging me. I don't judge you."

"Yeah you save all your energy for lying to me." He laughs again.

"What have I lied about?"

"What haven't you lied about? You- you lied about my grandma, about your Ben, about sex with other people. I'm not mad about it, fuck whoever the fuck you wanna fuck, but don't come to me when you wanna feel something."

"I did not lie about Ben." I remind. "I told you that night."

"You told me you kissed him, J."

"That's all I did." It's honest. It's less than what he gave me with Izzy and it's like that doesn't matter to him. "And I told you and we talked about it because we love each other."

He's swallowing back some words, I know it's for the best he keeps them in. I know he wants to hurt me, so I stop asking. The shadow self wants to say something he can't take back so he can go back there.

"You told me to move on. You told me to date. I tried to give you what you wanted." And it's hard to think about Chloe but I do. It's hard to remember how happy she was, how happy she made me.

I knew her six months and it was almost enough.

"I broke up with Chloe because it wasn't fair to her to be with her when I want you."

Paul shrugs. He's moving to stand and I find his eyes in all of it.  "I don't feel anything for you." It's a lie, he says it with almost no conviction, like he doesn't want me to believe it.

"...How could you say that?"

"Because it's not like we mean anything, right?" He's looking right through me with those glass eyes.

"Pablo... I care about you."

He shakes his head. "I didn't ask you to care about me."

"I didn't ask you to pop up drunk and berate me because you can't keep it together." It's not breaking through, none of it can in this state and I know that but I have to try.

"Sorry. Won't happen again."

"You're my best friend."

He laughs. It falls into his hands, he covers his face. "I love you, and that means that I take care of you."

"Oh, you do?" He laughed. It's cynical now. "Since when? Where the fuck were you, huh?" It's sad, full of it.

"Baby—"

"Where were you when I- when I needed you?" He asks. "I was always there for you, Julian, always and when it came to my shit, you couldn't even pick up your goddamn phone. You wanna know why I was with Izzy? It's because being with you is so fucking agonizing."

"You need to get to a meeting."

"You drag me to therapy because I can't be in the same room with you, you realize how insane that is?"

He doesn't mean it. He doesn't, his voice betrays him, I see the tears in his eyes.

I'm standing, reaching for him now, pulling his biceps so he stays steady in front of me.

"You think you can fix everything? Like, like it's okay for you to— you think you're fit to judge me— ?"

Brandon would tell me to push back.

"You want me to lash out so you have a reason to leave... o-or you want me to leave you but I'm not doing that."

"I know that you are angry and I know that you're grieving and I know that I love you and I'm not gonna leave you." It's everything he's said to me. Everything verbatim. He's sat in place for me before, waited for me to be ready.

He's not ready.

"You're insane, Jules."

He brushes my hands away.

"So goddamn idealistic— You only think I need help because you need it, Jules."

"I did. I got help because I needed it. If I'm telling you need it, it's because you do."

I can see the hurt though, know it hurts him to think that I wasn't okay when he wasn't okay and now I'm just better.

And we're here.

It makes me sad too, absolutely sorrowful. I regretted the way I treated him but I know he's deflecting.

He's trying to hurt me cause he wants me to stop asking, it's what he always does when he drinks. I choose him so I choose that too.

And I don't get mad about it.

"You need to get to a meeting." Is all I say.

"I'm over you and you can't stand it." It's a lie, it's meant to sting. It wants him to be alone, I know that, so he can keep drinking. I choose to put that to the side, make it another ugly thing so he doesn't have to be that.

Cause he's more than the words and the dead eyes, he's told me so many times how much he loves me that it's programmed now. I know it's not him, I know it's the drinking.

And I've been with him without it, I know who he is. I keep reminding myself that this isn't him. It's the grief, it's the drinking. "You cant stand the fact that you don't mean anything to me anymore."

"I'm driving you to a meeting."

"You wonder why I don't wanna be with you? This is why! This is why people run from you, Jules! All pushy and needy like, you're so desperate for someone to love you. So fucking desperate that you'd fuck Calum! And Ben? I'm giving you attention and it's still not enough, it's still not enough so you're fucking around, you're fucking insufferable. Fucking insufferable—"

I can't listen when I'm pulling my shoes on, when I'm grabbing for his keys. "Come on."

"Gimme my keys."

"No."

He's angry now, he jumps on his toes and part of me thinks it's cute. "Gimme my fucking keys!"

"You're not gonna disrespect me in my house, Paul." Is all I say. "Come on."

•

"She's dead." It's tearful and throaty, it's angry and raw. He's crying in the passenger seat outside the church. He won't let us go in, won't move an inch. I know it needs to be his decision or I've dragged him there.

He's crying, more than I've ever seen, it's snotty and he's wiping a sleeve over his face, it red when he finishes.

He's withering now, sinking into the seat and his voice is a whisper. "She's dead and you're gonna die and I-I can't do it, Jules- I can't-"

"I-I can't do that again, Jules. I can't." He cries. "It hurt so bad."

"Hey-"

He's gasping for air, his breaths fog against the passenger seat window. He's hyperventilating before I can get a hold of him and I'm scared out of my wits.

"I can't- fuck- fuck, I can't—"

"Angel." I try, it works on me, I hope it's the same for him. I hope I can comfort him from here. Tugging him in proves challenging when he's fighting me.

He's pushing my hands away, he's shaking his head, he's trying not to cry and it only makes him cry more. Only makes him gasp more and he's sobbing now, it's all hiccups and it looks like it hurts.

His whole body shakes.

"Hey, baby," my voice is soft, how I know his to be. I try again, I know he'd do the same, "look at me, okay? Look at me, baby, okay? It's not your fault. None of it, okay?"

"Breathe, okay, in for five out for ten okay?"

He can't stop it, until he can, until it's run it's course and he's slumped in the seat all sweaty.

I'm giving him water, hoping he's exhausted enough not to fight. It's twenty minutes later when we're slumping into church pews, opening with a prayer, begging God for forgiveness.

And ourselves for more strength.

A week later I was back with Chloe, Paul took that spot at a detox center in Ohio.
•

jan. 25. 2025