Days go by fast when he's next to me.

"We're both doing better." It's been three weeks of this conversation and still, he pushes. His eyes are so bright, it almost sounds like a good idea. "We're not having sex, we're just... we're kissing." It's hard to explain why I do this.

Maybe it feels easier to push him away but I know I can't make him feel like that again.

I can't be cold again, I gotta set boundaries and make promises and keep them or my word is worth nothing. Even the way he is with me when we're having this conversation.

Soft. Legs sit on top of each other, we sit opposite on the bed and are looking right at each other. He's trying to level with me.

It makes me want him.

"Kiss me." Is all I say. It's all I need.

"Spend the night."

I know he doesn't want to reject me, it's what makes me consider the offer. I only consider it for a second.

"Jules—"

"Why not?" It's irritated. "Why can't you spend the night?"

I can't tell him that watching him sleep is lonely. I can't get to sleep. I know they said the insomnia would get better but my brain is always buzzing. I want to say no.

But he looks at me with those bright eyes so I say nothing. And he takes that for what it is, climbs into Ben's bed that night.

•

I WANT THIS LIKE A CIGARETTE

BEN
I could help you with that. It's stuck in my head.

The whole night. I know he's lucky to forget, it makes me jealous, the fact that he has it in him to be like that with me and then... just go back to normal. I can't find normal anymore because everything is a cataclysm of fucked.

And Andrew's look in his eyes, that seriousness. Fucked. The heat in my stomach, it felt like the air had gone out.

Like my eyes would pop out, like my nose would bleed, like he sucked all the life out of me with just that one sentence. And I wasn't really looking forward to how it would feel.

"How was your night?" Jules' eyes are always big, he refuses to sit up, talk to me in any way that feels normal.

This isn't normal.

"Good." It's all I can say.

"Yeah?" It's wicked, the way he smiles, bites into his lip, presses his hips up like I can't already see it.

"Yeah."

It's silent, he's staring off into space. My eyes follow the lines of his body, I try to keep my hands to myself. Part of me wants to know how he feels.

It's stupid.

"You're excited." I state. I barely look, but I can feel his thigh brushing against my hand. He hasn't moved since I joined him in his room, like he wants me to pass a hidden test before he decides to commit.

It's like that now, Julian staring me down, waiting for me to want him. I don't want him yet, not the way where it feels just natural.

Normal.

I'm letting go, letting what's supposed to happen... without my interference. It's hard when Paul won't fuck him, makes it harder for him to hide his attraction and I don't know what to do with it but it's not awkward.

He doesn't make it awkward, not like Andy, not like the constant convincing that I was in love with my best friend. I'm not. I'm not in love with him even if  my stomach is hot and I can't look him in the eye.

He's looking at me hard, his eyes are stuck in my chest. I might flex a little which causes him to look right at me.

Our eyes lock. Like it a competition to see who breaks so I ask. "How many times has this happened... this week?"

He shuts his eyes. Groans out a "Three."

Three slim fingers point to the sky.

Three times he's got blue balls after a night with his fiancé. It has to be for fun at this point, he likes the pain and Paul likes withholding, something.

For the love of God. "Just fuck him, J."

"He begged me not to let him, Ben." He almost cries, mentally, it's fucked. I'm sure it's some kinky shit they haven't researched enough cause despite how many times he's fucked over, I can see it in his eyes.

The same thing Andy had for me.

That want. "Literally begged me."

"That was months ago." I remind. I remember thinking it was off when I first heard it too. Something about wanting so bad and not having it. Paul doesn't explain more when I ask, Jules can't describe it. Paul says it's not healthy to crave. That's how Paul describes it, in little words...

I know it's hard to admit that it's bullshit. That he's stopping himself from having it as some kind of punishment for the man he's been.

I get it, Jules doesn't. Someone's gotta cave cause he can't keep ending up in my bed like this.

"And you've both been annoying about it."

He scoffs.

I can see it in his eyes before he's on me. He's tugging me by my shirt and like a magnet I'm pulled.

I'm laying next to him before I can think to not and Jules pulls his hands away... like he's got what he wanted. It makes me comfortable, how little he touches me until he's sure I'm open.

I don't know if I'm open to it.

There's a good two inches between us and I won't turn to look at him. He doesn't need me looking at him. I know kissing him didn't feel bad, and the way he looks at me doesn't make me uncomfortable.

And I know I could kiss him if I want to.

I don't want to.

Andrew keeps telling me it's a bad idea. Keeps saying that him and Paul are locked in, like it matters.

Like I want more than fun. I don't. I love Jules, I do, as a best friend. I want him in my life. And he's teaching me things about myself right now.

It's a good escape. When I'm sitting next to him and I can decide if I want to kiss him and not if he can see my piece when I take it off.

If he's thinking about my leg, I don't need to think about that. He's thinking about kissing me. It makes me feel better, that's all I know.

And Jules is ... fun to look at.

He's handsome. He's fit and he's got a good smile, and only we see it. Only us, our pack, makes me feel important.

I don't kiss him. There's no need for it, we close enough without fucking his head up.

I don't kiss people unless I know I want to. Unless I can't help myself, intimacy is reserved for moments of knowing that I want that.

I don't want that right now. I want to fix whatever he's got going on cause I hate that sad look in his eye.

And Paul's kinda pissing me off by proxy.

"He fucks his hand almost as much as you do." I joke. I don't know why I do cause it only makes Jules look at me deeper.

It's inappropriate and I can't tell if he's mad about it. I try joking more, I know it don't feel as funny as it should. "Plus, you gotta do it before I do, it's an unspoken fact."

It's a joke. It's supposed to make him laugh. I try to make it a joke but Jules is rolling his eyes, there's a cockiness in his voice.

"Who said you're fuckin' him?" It's a little jealous, I can hear it bite through on the end.

"You did." He did, actually. "Last night, actually." It was a question, mid sesh, he's low lidded and watching the fan spin... and he asks me if I'd fuck Paul.

It's like that, nothing more, we talk, honestly. Jules is the person I can be the most honest with, always been like that. I shrugged.

I didn't know what to say or if I could even let myself think about going that far. Kisses are easy. I couldn't shake Andrew on his knees for me. It ended before it started. He didn't seem disappointed but he's kept distance.

He's avoiding me while staying in my house to avoid his own stuff.

I wanted Wren. I knew I wanted Wren.

And I love Drew the way I love Jules.

Instead, I asked Jules if he thought about me like that. Cause it's hard for me to think.

"Talkin dirty, pillow talkin' wit no payout." I'm spitting and he smirks it away like it gets him off that I'm enticed.

It feels more real than it should but he hasn't kissed me again, not since I kissed him. "You gonna let me do you or I gotta cry about it?"

He keep asking if I think about him but he won't just kiss me.

He hasn't just kissed me, I had to kiss him first. Maybe I have to kiss him.

"Cry." He whispers, it's coy, something that could get him fucked.

I feel my chest get hot, try to pay attention to the way it feels until I realize Jules is pressing his fingers there.

He's touching my cross, then he's trailing his hand down a little, he's been looking into my eyes and I cough away his touch.

"I think y'all should do it." I don't like how easy I'm nervous, I shouldn't be so nervous. "It's been too long."

"Don't be self-serving."

I laugh when he's pulling away and he's sliding over to offer me more room on his side of the bed. "He's always nursing me, J, it's killing the mood." I lay still, he turns towards me.

"So you want me to fuck him so he stops caring for you?" I try to hear him but his hip hikes up just enough, he turns to press his stomach to the bed, brushes his knee on my thigh now.

It's a mind fuck.

"I want you to be good." I say. "And cause you're good together. Cause you miss him and I care about you."

"Cause you care about me." He repeats, it's a full of a laugh. I know he thinks I'm joking but it's a fact.

"Yeah." I got so much love for the kid, it's crazy. "Cause I care about you."

•••

•••

CAN WE DRAG IT OUT AND NEVER QUIT?

•••

[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]

OH MY GOD, YOU ARE HEAVEN SENT

"Good morning." Jules is smiling.

He's laying in bed beside me as I wake, smiling at me. He does that cute little quirk of his brow and I realize I've stared too long.

It's quiet. Always is in this place, too quiet it makes my body ache. I stretch a bit, catch his eyes.

They're low lidded and green and full of life.

"Morning."

He pressed his head further into the pillow, slips under the sheets with me, twines our legs. "You slept okay?"

It feels warm, everything about him does.

"Yeah." It feels like he's been with Ben. He hugs different after Ben, kisses different. It's more consuming, just like Ben, it's warmer. I confirm, "You, with Ben?"

"We slept." He nods. I'm not surprised he tries to comfort me. He traces my thigh with his hand, cups my knee, pulls my leg to hitch over his. "He snores."

I've heard it before, like a chainsaw. Jules looks a little tired.

"How did the pt go?" He asks.

"... Good."

Maybe I've said it a way because he's looking at me now, narrowing his eyes.

"What's wrong?"

And nothing was wrong but he spent the night with Ben and didn't ask about his leg? Ben needs to talk through it or he'll never cope. His therapist keeps stressing it and he knows that but Jules is asking me about PT.

"I'm just surprised you asked, I figured..."

"What?" It's confused, like it always is. Like he doesn't know that he and Ben have something.

"Well, you were with him all night."

"He doesn't really talk about it." He seems annoyed, I don't know how to show him it's okay.

"You don't really talk, do you?"

"We kissed." He says, looks guilty for it. I figured as such. "A few times."

"Okay."

"Pablo..."

"It's okay."

He shakes his head. "It's not—"

"I said it's okay so it is. It's fine." It's more than fine. It's what I asked for, it's space without space. Jules is with Ben when I need space.

And it's always been like that. Even if he doesn't think it, him and Ben have always been close.

This time it just means a bit more. I can do that.

I need time to even think of being intimate again, and he needs to get it out when he needs to or that will breed resentment and we won't last.

I want us to last.

"Not sure if it's fine with Drew, though."

"You see it too?" Jules is smiling again, this time it's small, curious. He tries not to be frustrated with me and most minutes it works, until I catch that look on his face.

He's barely looking at me, like he doesn't wanna give me the satisfaction, it's cute.

"I don't think Ben feels that way about him."

It's obvious and it "Sucks."

"Yeah." Jules still seeks more convincing. "I don't want you to think it's going further than kissing. It's a peck, two—"

"It's really okay if it's more."

"Be serious for a sec." He sits up, presses his back to the headboard. I know it's eclectic and I know there are a lot of confusing feelings. I've been reading a lot of psych. I read a lot of psych in clinic.

I dealt with his lingering feelings for Chloe through therapy. I am not angry that a part of him loves her the same way he's not mad about Brandon. Or Izzy.

I talked a lot about this with my therapist. I ran it by her first. I'm not crazy.

I want Jules.

I want Jules and I need him to not need that from me cause I can't give it. He won't need it if he has it. He won't, not if he has Ben.

"I am serious, J... I'm happy it's Ben. Really." Because we're friends with Ben and Ben treats him well. And I'm not as jealous with Ben because I trust Ben.

I know feelings are complicated.

And this makes it more complicated but I need Julian in my life and if that means he might fall for Ben, I can deal with that.

Because I trust him. And we always come back. We've loved other people and it's never been enough. "Think it would be much harder if it was someone else. I like him for you."

"That's odd."

My therapist says it isn't.

I know a piece of me likes Ben too, and that part of me tells me I don't mind. And I know I won't act on it but Jules needs connection. He needs it more than I do at this point. "He's probably not looking for anything serious either so it's perfect."

I know it's crazy of me to say that when our names are tattooed on our ring fingers.

And I am so in love with him, it's branded into my chest. He looks at me with so much confusion I almost wanna take it back.

I sit to face him, to meet his eyes.

"I don't wanna fuck him." He lies.

It's a shaky lie, a whisper almost.

"You do." I can see it.

"You think cause you slept with your best friend I have to too?" It's unintentional. Jules is honest but that's the point, isn't it?

I know that wasn't meant to be mean so I won't take it that way. "I am celibate. And I love you, but I promised myself that I won't do that unless I can handle it."

I don't know why but "I'm not okay yet."

And "I still want you to have it when I can't... And he's a really good guy."

He's the best. Ben Morris is one of the best people I've ever met and I know he's looking out for Jules too, and he'd never break his heart.

"He'd never hurt you."

"You're being dramatic." He's annoyed now. "Stop making it sound like you're dying."

But I could. I could drink myself to death.

"I know it'll be good for you... to relieve some stress." And, God, I wanted to help him with that. "It's just a suggestion but I don't want you to feel like you have to be with me in this. I love you and I trust you—"

"You don't think this is weird?" He cuts me off. "My fiancé pimping me out?"

"Now who's being dramatic?"

"I love you." He reminds.

"I love you."

"I wanna touch you." He says, it's deep. I know it's not meant to get my head swimming like this. "Not even sex, just- just holding you and kissing you and cuddling on the couch, fuck, Paul—"

It warms me from the inside, fucks me up, nearly makes me go back on my promise.

It's hard to look at him. I'm hard and I have to will it away while Jules is giving me those big, beautiful eyes that tempt me. And he's so fucking gorgeous it's hard to keep my hands off.

So, I reach for him, I touch the cross behind his ear. I lace my fingers through his hair and rock his forehead to mine.

I think of kissing him, I obsess over it. "It's not forever, just for now." I remind.

Because I will promise myself to him in front of God, in front of everyone that's ever mattered to us. But I need to be right first. I need to do it right, he's done all he's supposed to do.

"Until you just know?"

"I'll know."

He doesn't want to say it but he does. "When you meet someone else." It's honest, it needs to be.

"Jules, you are everything to me."

He doesn't get it. And suddenly he's rushing out another question and I'm trying to explain myself again. "Did you meet someone in clinic?"

"I haven't slept with anyone else, not since I left. I haven't been— You're it for me."

It's so true it hurts. I watch it light up in his eyes. I see how willing he is to correct that, how he darkens them, looks down. He closes himself off to me. "So it's been two years since..."

Sex.

"I promised myself three." He's biting his lip now, his eyes abandon mine in favor of my chest and my waist and my... "See, you're getting excited."

His face flushes, he meets my eyes and then looks away, pulls his knees to his chest and buried his head in them. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." He props his chin on folded arms. "Really. Talk to Ben, see if he's... or- or Drew you know."

"Drew?" He laughs, it's small.

"Yeah, cause he's totally in love with Johnny." I remind. "I mean, I think it's better if you sleep with people who are already desensitized to the Jules effect."

It's better for my heart. It feels like I'm forcing some repetition of history and part of my brain is convinced it's the sorrow.

That I'm making up for the fact that I'm not whole, I'm letting him find pieces in other people and maybe it seems like I'm pushing him out.

But I love him. I love him so much it buries me alive.

"Tu es mi vida."

He doesn't look like he believes it. "When I call you mi vida. My life. It's because you are everything. You and me, it's everything. Every feeling I've ever had, every person I've ever been. Who I am..."

I want him to know me, to really know me. And in order to be ready for that, I have to work though it on my own. With the celibacy, with the meetings and the solitude.

I need to throw myself into my work and if we have sex, if there's sex, I won't be present, not fully.

Not the way I need to be for him; I won't be able to separate him from addiction, because I don't do things in small doses. I know that about myself, and he deserves the best version of me.

The sober version, the optimistic, the loving. I'm none of that when I'm not the first.

"Who I can promise to you..." I owed him a declaration, we've spent too much time in silence. "I need a lot of work. A lot more. I need more therapy and more time. And, i-it wasn't fair of me to come back when I wasn't ready—"

"Don't think like that." It's quick, how he interrupts and it makes me love him more.

And it makes it easier.

"We met so young." I've known him for seven years, it feels like a lifetime and still that's not enough. I'm 26. I need to be a man. I'm ready to marry him, it's irrational to think it'll be easy but it feels like a happy marriage depends on if we can get through this together.

I want to be in the position to make his life easier, not just physically or financially... I don't want to be the person that hurts him, I need to be the best version of myself because I want a family.

I want us, and little league and chaotic mornings with mundane nights.

Chaste kisses before work, deep longing while cleaning, taking vacations just to let that love we have bubble out.

I want it all.

"We were both so..." raw. "And the love I have for you... it's infinite."

More than I could ever express. "But I can't do it all, not all of it, not yet. Because I get tempted and I don't do the things I'm supposed to."

And I'm not the man you need me to be.

"I am completely, absolutely enamored by you." My hands are on his chest, it's firm behind my touch, I press a finger to his heart. "You wear my name because you want to, same reason I do. We are getting married because we are in love not because of obligation."

He knows that, it doesn't need to be said. "I belong to you." It's sexy, and I know he doesn't mean for it to be but if I were standing it would knock me feet from under me.

I'd spent hours thanking him for just that.

I can already taste the skin on his hips, the tears brushing the corner of my mouth as he fucks into me. I taste that want, it encases me, I feel his hand in mine.

And it's hard to force that part of me back. I think about him, I think about how angry he's been with me before, I think about the drinking, I think about the fights.

"You deserve what you need." It's hard to get that out, over the lump in my throat and the rawness. I want him, more than I want to be sober. If I'm not careful, I'll chase that ecstasy when he's not around.

And I'll drink. I'll probably get high. Sobriety has me eying Ben's pills.

That's not his burden to carry. And I want to fuck him.

I wanna fuck him so bad my denial comes out like a whimper. "You've been horny, baby." He's nervous. He shuffles a bit, hikes his knees back up to his chest to hide it. "It's okay."

It's not okay, it fucks me up. He's leaning to kiss me now, nudging his knees on the side of my thighs, pressing up, he sits in my lap.

I feel his lips first, it's needy, he tugs my head back to drop my jaw, my eyes peer up into his and he's kissing me with all that fucking need.

He's rutting against me without meaning to, rocking his body on mine in ways that shoot stars behind my lids. I can't think when he sucks my bottom lip into his mouth and bounces a bit.

Like he's trying to show me he's mine.

I decide to give it to him then, to bend my own rules the second after I've made them.

It clear when he looks at me. "You've got me wrapped around your finger."

My hands have their own idea, they're tucking into the back of his shirt before I can stop and his body is cold.

"I want you."

His skin is freezing, I tug him closer to warm.

He nuzzles his face into my neck and now I can feel all of him.

Long and hard and perfect. Perfect. He's perfect.

And he's throbbing, he's pressed between us, the shape of him pressed into my stomach, it's dangerous.

"Only you." He's whispering.

Caressing him, careening him to me, our bodies a web. I can't think, not when he's looking at me like that.

With those perfect eyes and moaning into my mouth, like he's trying to torture me, shows me exactly what I could have.

He's in my hand, thick, heavy. My other hand holds his waist, tucks under his waistband.

I want to promise myself to him, to sink into him. I'm pressing a finger to the most joyous part of his body, it shoots a little fire through him. I watch his eyes darken.

His body jumps, and he pushes back.

He always pushes back, never falls apart until he's ready. He watches my eyes, lifts my wrist to his face, tucks two fingers into a warm mouth.

And I stroke him through. His breath hitches.

It's a small a lie to myself, an 'okay' because his eyes are intoxicating.

He sucks, staring deep into my soul, looks down at me. He bites down when the pleasure gets too much. It feels like heaven, like bliss behind his eyes. I wanna dig my heels deep in and never leave, to live behind his eyes.

And he's kissing the pads on my index and middle then they're in him. A long moan spills from pink lips.

Its like I'm seeing Everest as he climbs his peak. He fucks into my hand, rides my fingers like they're the last piece of me he'll ever get.

Bucks when I curve, when I rub that little spot cause I can't help it. His body's hot now, burning up, he's fighting to look into my eyes as he sinks deeper.

Little noises, half moans, throaty cries and big wet eyes. He stares deep into me, rides the wave that pushes up my body. "I belong to you."

It's the first I can make out, nails me to the bed.

"I'm yours." It's sinful, the submission. The way he looks at me, his legs spread over my lap, his belt loose, shirt hiked up.

His hair's messy, tufted up, maroon freckled skin.

"I love you." I state.

"You love me." He repeats.

It's soaked when I nip a kiss by his ear, tug his skin into my mouth right over where he's branded God. I'm drunk on the way he moves his hips.

And he begs. He begs, it's sweet and sticky like honey. His neck arches, his back does too. Vampire bite freckles, I sink my teeth in. His muscles tighten, I have to hold his waist when his body falls slack in my arms. My hand slips out, he almost falls back.

He's mindless.

He cries louder. Claws my skin. I coax him through it, force purity back under my bones when he comes. I tell myself no when he looks at me, ready.

When he lays back and his knee presses into me, I pull back.

Watch it wash over him, the relief that spills from his mouth, the way his body sinks into the mattress, spent. It's seconds after when I've leant my body on the headboard, tug his body up onto mine.

He tucks his head on top of my head, moments after. I kiss his throat. He's whimpering now, it's soft enough to make my body jerk and I feel hot tears on my cheek. He's crying. "I'm sorry."

"I loved that."

It's enough to get him to settle.

"You just told me you're celibate and I jumped your bones."

He's shaking, it wracks through him, a high smile when I look at him in worry and reach to the beside table for a Kleenex. Wipe my hands, a new one, wipe his eyes. He's sweaty and flushed, his whole face is pink.

And he's smiling.

I know he wants more but he finds it in himself to be satisfied. He thanks me with more bliss. Pressed his hands to my cheeks, kisses me deeply, it's all I need to hear.

It takes a second but he looks into my eyes. And he smiles. It's pained but loving, almost like he's seeing the situation for exactly what it is and he nods.

Like he sees me.

"You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He says. "And you're so stubborn it makes my head explode."

"I love you." I remind.

I do.

"Lean on me." He says. "Let me hold you."

Jules is good at putting his foot down. It leaves no room for argument. I don't want to argue. I want him happy.

I forgive myself when he's in my arms that night, burrito'd into the comforter. He's the love of my life, I can't feel guilty for that.

YOU GIVE ME GUILTY, GUILTY PLEAAASURE

feb 20, 2025