Don’t You Dare

The walk back to the dorm is silent and filled with more tension than there’s been between us in weeks, only making me hate Avery more. Up until he decided to ambush the two of us in the quad, the day was perfect. Sure, it started out a bit strained, but after we both got out of our heads, it was amazing.

Then the douche had to go mess it all up by opening his ignorant fucking mouth.

It’s bullshit.

I brushed his comments off easily enough the moment they left his lips, having to deal with the shit more often than I’d like to admit. From the way Aspen’s still stewing, he wasn’t able to do the same.

Waves of his anger hit me at full force, dragging me under in their toxicity with every step we make down the hall until we reach the door to our suite. He unlocks it without a word or glance in my direction, shrugging off his jacket and shoes silently.

It’s killing me, not knowing what part of the run-in with Avery triggered this level of reaction. All I want is to erase it. Find some way to make things better. Rewind to this morning and never leave the comfort of his bed.

“You wanna game?” I ask as he crosses to the kitchenette and fills a glass of water. “Shoot some bastards in CoD?”

A shake of the head is all I get in response before he moves to his room…and shuts the door behind him.

The closing snick of it falling in place might as well be that of an impenetrable vault locking up every one of Aspen’s thoughts. One he, and he alone, has the code to.

What’s rolling through that head of yours, Pen?

I can tell he wants space. Needs some time in his own head before he shrugs this off, but it’s hard to give him that. Not when I want to be able to take away whatever pain or discomfort he’s feeling…especially seeing as I’m the cause of it.

In the end, it only takes five minutes of silence before I’m overly antsy and anxious enough to knock on his door.

“Yeah?” he calls, and I take that as permission to enter.

When I do, I find him lying across his bed, staring up at the ceiling blankly. Completely zoned out the way he gets when something’s really plaguing his thoughts, which isn’t a good sign.

Just being able to physically see him has taken some of the weight from my chest and tossed it to the side, but some of it still sits there, crushing down like an anvil, while so many thoughts remain unspoken.

“You good?” I ask softly from where I stand in the doorway. I’m not sure why I bother, since the answer’s written clear as day with his body language alone.

That’s the thing about knowing someone as long as I’ve known Pen. I can read him. Like an open book, pages splayed out before me. Knowing he doesn’t give that power to just anyone—okay, pretty much no one—is what makes it all the harder to use it against him. Yet, no matter how much I don’t like it, sometimes I have to take advantage of it. If only to get him to speak words instead of internalizing everything he’s thinking or feeling.

“Actually…” I start, fiddling with the hem of my shirt. “Don’t answer that. You don’t need to. Just tell me what you’re thinking instead.”

I watch as he visibly swallows, and then blue eyes shift from the ceiling to my face. In them, I swear I see a million different emotions.

Pain. Fear. Regret. Longing. Hundreds more, I can’t even begin to name them all.

“I don’t know what I’m thinking, Kee. I don’t know anything anymore.”

The anxiety and panic in his voice wrap my heart in a vice, squeezing until breathing feels nearly impossible. I’ve never felt more helpless, not knowing what to do to make this better.

I’m dying to rush over to him and take him in my arms. Maybe run my fingers through his hair before kissing him breathless, to show him he has me. He always has me. Yet, I think the last thing he wants is for me to touch him right now. I mean…he can barely look at me.

So I settle for simply crossing the room to his bed and stand at the edge, closing as much of the distance between us as I dare, all while still feeling like it’s hundreds of miles rather than a few feet.

“Can you try? Please?”

Taking a deep breath, I spill my own fears to him. Laying them out for him to see in hopes that he realizes he can do the same, and it wouldn’t change a thing.

“I mean, is it me? Are you…” The words catch in my throat as I crack open before him. “Are you ashamed of me? Or about what happened last night?”

He sits up on the bed in a flash, eyes wide. “Absolutely not.” Scooting to the edge of the bed, he throws his legs over and grasps the back of my knees. His imploring gaze shows the truth in his words. “Never in this lifetime would I feel that about you.”

“Then…” I trail off, shaking my head.

His smile is sad, measured, as he looks up at me wordlessly. Then, as if sinking into my brain and finding exactly the right thing to do, he links his fingers with mine and tugs me down to the mattress with him. I follow without a fight, curling up to face him as soon as our heads hit the pillows. He raises our joined hands, his thumb tracing calming patterns across my skin before pressing his lips to each fingertip.

The gesture makes my chest tighten.

“I’m not ashamed of a single thing we’ve done together,” he whispers while he continues to play with my fingers. “Yeah, we’ve hit some speed bumps before we got to this point, but you know me, Kee. Sex is sex. I like having it with you just as much—if not more—than I have with any other person I’ve been with.”

I smirk, tracing his lips with my index finger after he kisses it again. “Good to know I’m keeping you satisfied, at least.”

He lets out a soft scoff and lifts his gaze to meet mine. “Honestly, I should probably be more hung up on the fact that you’re a guy, but I’m not. That shit hasn’t even entered the equation for me since we started this.”

That’s where I thought he’d be hung up too. But if he means it when he says that’s not the issue, then I truly have no idea what he’s so hung up on either.

“Then help me understand, Pen. If it’s not what Avery said…then what is it? Because nothing but the worst thoughts are going through my head by not knowing what’s happening in yours.”

His teeth scrape over his bottom lip, the action drawing out his dimple for the briefest moment. “I don’t know how to explain it, really. There’s so many different pieces to this weird puzzle in my brain, and the more I try to make sense of it, the more it doesn’t make sense at all.”

The corner of my mouth twitches. “Sounds about right to me. Overthinker.”

Rolling his eyes, he settles in closer and slides one leg between mine.

“Well, smartass, I think to start…I’ve been struggling with knowing that this was never part of the plan.”

I do my best not to comment on that, but he must see something written on my face, because his lips curl up and he gives me a playful shove.

“Look, don’t knock my plans, okay? This is serious.”

“Okay, okay.” I laugh softly. “Plans are serious.”

His eyes roll again. “We’ve always looked out for each other. Had each other’s backs. Been the shield and armor when we’ve needed it. I just never imagined us having to protect ourselves from…this. From the judgment of Avery or any other asshole we meet that’s like him. The prejudiced dicks who decide that the only right way to live is the hetero way. The normal way.”

An unsettled feeling rolls through me, and though the last thing I want is to make things more and more about Avery being a complete dick, I’m still doing my best to not keep things from Pen. Which is the reason I open my mouth and tell him about what happened in the locker room after the game yesterday. All of it. Every shitty, arrogant, hateful word.

I’m not surprised by the way Pen’s jaw ticks as I relive the sordid tale, but what does take me off guard is the way he pulls me in tighter against his chest. Removing as much space between us as humanly possible.

“That’s exactly the shit I’m talking about,” he whispers, his warm breath fanning over my cheek.

I can tell there’s more inside his head he’s not saying, if the tension in the way he holds me is an indication. But I’ve also known Aspen long enough to realize, if he really wants me to know something, he’ll tell me.

So instead, I focus on what’s clearly written on the lines rather than what might be hiding between them.

“You don’t have to protect me, though. I can take care of myself just fine.”

He loosens his hold, leaning back to look me in the eyes. “I know that. I swear, I do. But isn’t that like…the number one job of a best friend? To make sure you’re okay? That all the fuckwads in the world know not to mess with you, otherwise they have to mess with me too?”

My lips curl. “I see your point.”

After all, I feel the exact same way about him.

“I hate feeling like I can’t do that anymore, because I just don’t know how. Not without asking you to stay in the closet for the rest of your life, which I could never do. And it’s like…what if people can tell? What if everyone we walk by on campus can just tell we’ve had sex or sucked each other off, and it just starts people talking. That’s something that could really impact you, especially with baseball in the future.”

I get where he’s coming from. While there’s a few out players in hockey or football, there’s not a single one in the MLB. But there’s a slight flaw in his logic.

“You really think people can just tell we’re screwing? Just by looking at us? Or more importantly, that any of them actually give two shits?”

He lifts the shoulder he’s not laying on in something of a shrug. “At this point, it all might sound crazy. It does to me, and it’s my own thoughts, ya know? And…maybe I’m worrying about nothing at all. I don’t know.”

“And here I thought you knew everything.”

There’s a slight curve to his lips, and his dimple appears. “I don’t know a fucking thing except that I don’t want to be the reason you get hurt.”

His hand releases mine, then. Comes up and cups the side of my face, brushing his thumb across my lips as his eyes follow the path it takes. I press a quick kiss to the pad, my heart squeezing from the smile he gives me when I do.

There’s so much trouble in his eyes when they lock with mine, filled to the brim like a dam about to break. “I meant it when I said that last night, Kee. Whether it be from someone finding out about us, or something else entirely, it wouldn’t matter. There’s no way I could live with myself for being the reason for your pain.”

There’s no doubt in my mind he means it. Though he doesn’t let himself care for people often, when he does, he cares deeply. With his entire heart and soul—a type of loyalty that knows no bounds. Sometimes, even at the cost of his own feelings.

“And where do you fall into this?” I murmur. “Your pain? Your happiness? You seem so worried about me, but what about you?”

I don’t know if the question takes him by surprise, and that’s what takes him a minute to respond. Or if he really doesn’t have an answer for me off the top of his head. Either way, I’m not expecting the answer I receive.

“At the risk of sounding completely fucking corny or like a total sap, I’m happiest when you’re happy, Kee. It’s always been that way, always will be.”

I swear, my entire body trembles at his words as my mind tries to catalog this moment to memory. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him the same thing, maybe even spill more of what I’m holding on to.

But I’m not willing to risk letting my heart do the talking instead of my brain.

“Well,” I say, snuggling up into him, “my smile is infectious.”

He chuckles, leaning in to press his lips to mine. “That, and it’s completely addictive.”

God, if I don’t know that feeling all too well.

Rather than responding with something sure to ruin the moment, I kiss him harder, letting my tongue get the first taste of him in hours. Taking tiny pieces of him for myself with every brush of our lips and tongues.

Neither of us moves to take it further, even though simply kissing him gets me harder than a steel pipe every damn time. Instead, we just lay there, lips sliding against each other as hands map over skin with feather light caresses. Getting lost in the moment and in each other.

Just…being.

I’m the first to pull away, the tugging at my heart and war in my head forcing me to seek air.

There are so many things I wish I could tell him right now. Feelings that’ve been stirring inside me the more we explore each other like this. About feeling like we were always meant to end up here, even if we didn’t realize it. Even if he still doesn’t, from the sounds of it.

Maybe this was the plan all along.

But I keep these thoughts to myself, taking my turn to lock them up and throw away the key before they can burst from my mouth and effectively ruin everything.

“This feels right to me,” I say, measuring my words to not give too much away. “So maybe we should just focus on that. Not about how this isn’t the way we thought things would happen or the worries about the what-ifs.”

He nods, a small smirk forming. “There’s the Keene I know and love. Always going with the flow and talking me off the ledge.”

That one four-letter word leaves his lips, causing my heart to stutter and stumble in my chest. Inflating painfully against my ribs until they might crack from too much pressure.

And they do splinter slightly when I force a smile back at him.

“That’s what best friends are for.”