A birthday or two has passed now. You’re considered an adult now, even if you really don’t feel like one. At the same time you’re still a teenager, even though you don’t feel like one of those, either.

Today you’re off. Off for the next few days, even. Some sort of vacation; some sort of time to play. But you’re not alone. And you’re not home. You’re still with the rest of the Boys. In this really nice house with all sorts of things to do. Various people hang around, including some management members, and your photographer who respectfully abides to requests of what can be photographed and what cannot. They stick around only during the day, for various things like swimming and volleyball. They even set up a little field to play softball.

You don’t really mind being here, though. You love getting to play. You love embracing every opportunity to be a child.

It’s somewhere around five in the evening now, and most of the others are gone. You’re playing volleyball with Brian on your team, against AJ and Kevin on the other side. You’re winning, too. And you love it. Especially Kevin’s sighs of frustration when he screws up. When you score a point. He says the game is just for fun, and it doesn’t really matter who wins. But you know it does. Even if it’s just to you.

Barefoot, the soft, cool blades of dark green grass tickle up between your toes. And the perfectly delightful breeze sweeps through your hair and against your skin, bringing a sweet chill to wherever you’ve sweat. A very pleasant feeling. A very exhilarating feeling. You don’t want to leave it.

In not too long you’ve won. Brian and you shout in excitement, slapping each other and hugging while AJ complains, “If it was fair we woulda won...” None of you care to argue the dynamics of ‘if what was fair’ with him.

“Let’s start again!” you cry, grabbing the ball and getting ready to serve.

“Come on, Nick. We’ve played like three games now. And we already beat ‘em; let’s just go inside,” Brian urges, grabbing a shirt he had tossed to the side. None of the others had left theirs on, either. But you always left yours on.

“Yeah, and my hands hurt. I don’t wanna play anymore,” AJ chimes in.

“But guys...come on... There’s still light,” you plead. “Come on! Brian?”

“Sorry, Nick, I’m done,” Brian answers, already walking away, AJ not too far behind.

“Jeez. You guys suck,” you sulk with a disappointed pout.

“I’ll play,” Kevin says.

You look up, having forgotten he was even a possibility. “Oh. Okay.”

“AJ screwed up too much, anyway. Now I’ll definitely win,” he says with a playful smile in his eyes.

“Yeah right,” you say, tossing the ball up to hit it. Surprisingly, Kevin gets it and hits it right back. You have to fling yourself to the other side of this makeshift court and just barely get it. Unfortunately you end up on the ground and aren’t back up in time when it comes back. It kind of sucks not having somebody else there to catch what you can’t...

“Told ya,” Kevin says, smirking.

“That was just one. Doesn’t mean anything,” you say, retrieving the ball.

It goes on like this. Sometimes you score and sometimes he does, all the while having to work a lot harder than you had expected. But the thrill is all the better when you earn those points, all by yourself. When you get ahead of Kevin.

“Nice one!” you sarcastically call as Kevin’s serve flies somewhere well off to the side of the net, and very out-of-bounds. You start after it, only realizing once you’re half way there that Kevin is on his way, too. So you start to run. He notices and speeds up, too. He’s just about to grab it when you dive under him and tackle the ball, clutching it beneath you. “It’s mine,” you childishly declare as he tries to reach under you.

“Nick, it’s still my serve anyway.”

“I don’t care. It’s my turn now.”

“Fine.”

You loosen your hold a bit, thinking he’s going to back off. Instead he takes the opportunity to push his knee into your back, pinning you to the ground, and grabs your foot to pull your leg towards your back.

“Ow!” you scream, even if it doesn’t hurt that much yet.

“Gimme the ball.”

“No!”

“Fine.” And he pulls a little more, letting it loosen afterwards, but giving you enough of a jolt to shriek.

“I’m gonna cry,” you pout, hoping he’ll feel sorry for you.

“Go ahead.”

“Fine. Let me go,” you order, pushing the ball from beneath your chest.

He drops your leg and crawls off you towards the ball.

“I got you now!” you yell, pouncing on him. He lands with an oof, the ball inches from reach. “Ha, ha, take that. Feel good, Kevin?” you ask, straddling the back of his thighs with all the weight you can manage on top of him.

“Maybe.”

“What?”

He tries to reach for the ball, and you have to hold him down tighter.

You grab his wrists, and curl your ankles around his to keep him from kicking you. “You can’t get away, Kevin,” you mockingly sing. “Ya know...I’m bigger than you now, Kevin,” you whisper in his ear with a flicker of darkness that even surprises you.

“What?” he asks, only taken aback for a split second before continuing. “You’re still not stronger.” He manages to push both himself and the weight of you up before attempting a slothful crawl towards the ball.

You tug at his forearms and tighten a hold around his neck, then rock yourself to destabilize him. To your certain satisfaction, he promptly collapses back to the ground, unable to rise again despite his best efforts. “See, I got you. Try to get away now!”

Kevin stays still.

“Kevin, I said try.”

“I can’t.”

“You can try.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“What, you like having me on top of you?” you sarcastically reply, almost laughing until you note Kevin’s complete lack of response. “You...you like it?” you ask again as old feelings begin to stir, and fear betrays your tone.

Still, he says nothing.

“How can you like it?!” you shout, that fear encouraging this anger in anxious defense. “You’re not on top.”

He won’t respond. And now you just want to hit him. You want to scream at him some more and tell him how much you really hate him. Just how much it has been stirring inside you since he finally revealed his lie. Just how much you wanted to hurt him back, and just how long you have had to pretend that everything is fine when you were really so torn up.

“Yeah? Do you like it this way?” Now it’s your hot breath in his ear, and your cock against his ass. “How would you like it if I fucked you? If I made you cry like I did? Huh? Would you like it? If you got to feel like a scared little kid, trusting this older guy who said he loves you but runs away when it becomes ‘real’?! How real is this?!” You back off him enough to sit up, and he doesn’t take the opportunity to get away. But you know he’s heard you. His shorts are only held up with a drawstring, already loose and low on his hips. You stick your fingers in the sides and hastily pull them down in a hurried tug to his knees, underwear included. Then find yourself lost for a few moments, just staring at his ass. You never really got to see it before, not when you were together. Only yours was the main focus. You even asked, once, if you could try it with him. You weren’t that big, after all--it might not be that bad, you told him. And he laughed.

Now you’re plenty big, still not as big as Kevin, but you assume it would certainly be something for Kevin to really feel. Your hand actually trembles as you open your own pants, in your anger and anxiousness. You’re sickeningly hard, and only getting harder in the exposed air, especially with the rest of your pants still up.

You lean closer, your dick in your hand, and let it brush between Kevin’s firm cheeks. You’ve never had an erection like this. You’ve never had the simple brush of your cock against someone’s skin feel so incredible.

“Are you scared, Kevin?” Your voice has a low sort of rumble to it. It doesn’t give away your fear this time. “You never let me do this. I bet you were too scared back then. Who the fuck were you to call me brave? But I was. And I was terrified. Every second with you. But I loved you. And you wanted me to. You needed me to. Even though you didn’t feel the same. Because I was just a fucking toy. And if I didn’t love you, what was the fun? You couldn’t get me to do anything you wanted if I didn’t fall for you.” You press with more threatening firmness into what you can only assume is his virgin hole. “You feel that?” you growl. You try pressing harder, but it doesn’t allow you much give.

You try again, and this time Kevin whimpers. It sends a shot of icy pleasure straight from your heart to your dick. You remember your whimpers. Kevin said he loved them. You couldn’t avoid them. Now you could make Kevin.

You give it one more try before opting for a nice glob of saliva on the tip of your dick. Then it yields and you’re oh so slowly slipping in. You see Kevin’s back, still slick with sweat and beautifully tanned, tense. His fingers are curled into the dark grass and dirt, but he hasn’t said anything. Only emits gasps and the tiniest moans he tries to hide.

You force it farther and his tight heat engulfs you, overwhelms you, and you have to stay still once your pelvis nears his ass. You hold it there, your entire body on fire. It’s the most incredible thing you’ve ever felt. Your heart pounds heavily with the throb of your dick.

You lie back on top of him, once upper bodies merge, despite your own clothed self, you can feel his heat radiating from beneath you. A powerful sense of dominance rushes through as you pin the him there, and start to move. His grunts are louder, unmistakably pained, and you remember your pain. You remember how it burned, how you openly cried and Kevin kept stabbing you anyway. You then force the quickest thrust his still incredible tightness will allow, and Kevin cries out.

“Does it hurt, baby?” you coo, still with a steady, almost deliberate, slowness. His face is turned, jaw tight and eyes closed with a gorgeous grimace. “It’ll feel better; I promise,” you whisper caustically against his neck, mocking that old assurance he always gave to you.

All you can mange now is to fuck him, no words, just grinding into his ass as the pressure so violently builds. It’s tight, so tight. Hugging your dick with the most incredible suction, as if desperate to hang on, though it’s probably the opposite. You’ve never felt anything like it before, and never felt such a rush along with it. Such fear and fury. Something so wrong that felt so amazingly right. The wind picks up, only slightly and your need increases as the possibility of being caught further dawns on you.

You add your own gasps now, your own moans--so incredibly different than anything you’d ever felt with Kevin. You never felt anything so good with Kevin. Kevin wouldn’t let you. Now you’re showing him. And he’s taking it.

It’s closer, and you thrust into him with more focused fervor. The zipper of your baggy shorts must certainly be chafing his ass, though that is of your last concern as your hips ram vigorous into him. You feel it starting to build, you’re almost there; it’s growing and growing, an immense wave quickly flooding your insides until you finally erupt. You finish it with grunts and a few firmly focused thrusts as deeply into him as you can manage, and lose yourself there.

You hold him there, as you recover. As you breathe, and as the high wears away. And as you realize what you’ve done.

You suddenly pull out, yanking your dick from his tender hole.

“Oh my god.” Your hand is over your mouth and you’re standing up. “Oh my god.” Tears now burn your eyes. “I didn’t do that.” You cram your dick back inside your underwear and close your pants, as if that will somehow prevent it from having already happened. “I didn’t do that. I wouldn’t do that. I’m not you!”

He turns over, silently pulling up his own pants. His dick is very hard.

“I hurt you.” You’re sobbing now.

“Don’t worry about it,” he evenly responds, letting a casual hand sit on his half-covered dick.

“Oh god, oh god.” You cover your mouth, trying to cease your bawling.

Kevin stands up. Perhaps to consol you. Perhaps to...you don’t know. But you know you don’t want it. You shouldn’t want it. So you start to run away.

“Nick! Nick, come back!” He attempts to follow you, but isn’t having an easy time with his pants. Or what’s within them.

You burst into the house and run upstairs. But not to your room. Kevin would find you there. “Where’s Howie?!” you yell to the first person you walk by. They inform you of his room, asking if things are okay, but you fly by them.

“Howie!” you yell, pounding on the locked door. If it weren’t so, you would have already burst through. “Howie, open the door!” It’s very obvious you’re crying.

“Nick? Wha-”

You push your way inside, promptly locking it behind you. You look at Howie, loosely cupped fingers again at your lips in shock. “I raped him.”

“What?” He thinks he heard you wrong. “Nick, calm down. What are you talking about?”

“I raped him, Howie!” you scream again, your tears thoroughly overcoming you.

“Who?!” Howie loudly replies through your sobs, his hand on your shoulders, desperately trying to get you to settle. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Kevin.” You’re sniffling, and gasping through your words. “Outside, I just fucked him.”

“You had sex with him again?” Howie softly responds, with delicate recollection of your earlier relationship.

“I raped him,” you respond, as evenly as you can manage, looking Howie dead in the eye.

“You-”

“My dick has BLOOD on it, Howie! I RAPED him!”

“Oh,” he sensitively backs off. He wants to say something, to ask how or why, but doesn’t want to upset you further. He doesn’t really understand why you’re crying so hard if you could have done such a thing.

“I don’t know why,” you softly cry, sitting on his bed and taking your head in your hands. “It’s like I didn’t know what I was doing until it was over.”

“How did it start?” his voice is considerately concerned, completely willing to back off if you don’t want to answer.

“We were just playing. And we both went for the ball and- I’m not like him! I can’t be like him!” You sniffle before letting out a long, agonized wail. “I mean, what if I end up finding a kid to fuck, too? Oh god.” You turn over into the bed, drowning yourself in the covers. “I can’t be like him,” you moan loudly into the muffling fabric.

Howie sits beside you. “I wish I could understand,” he softly says. “But I don’t hate you...if you’re thinking anything like that. I just need to understand. What about Kevin? Is he really mad at you?”

You turn your head, responding with a soft, “No. But I know I hurt him.”

“How do you know he’s not mad?”

“Because I saw him. He had, like, no reaction at all and he just let me do it! I don’t know why! And he was like, ‘Don’t worry about it.’ I don’t know what happened.”

“Then why are you so worried, Nick? If he said it was okay?”

“Because I hurt him. Like he hurt me. I don’t want to be that.”

“Be what? How did he hurt you? Did he rape you?”

“N-” You stop, sitting up, actually unsure of how to answer. What the hell did he actually do to you? “I don’t know.”

You can tell, again, Howie wants to ask you more, like ‘how can you not know?’ but respectfully declines.

“I was young. I thought he loved me and he didn’t. When we had sex, when he had sex, he used me. He’d, like, touch me and stuff, suck me off, which, ya know, I loved, ‘cause I never felt anything like that before. But he made me feel so guilty. Like I owed him. And that’s how he fucked me. It hurt. It hurt so bad. And he told me I was brave, I thought that’s how it was supposed to be. I thought he cared, but he didn’t. He hurt me, and he lied to me, and when I told him I loved him, too, he left me. Alone. Without one goddamn word. And I’ve spent the rest of my life trying to figure it out, trying to figure out what the hell I am now. I finally got him to talk to me once, like two years ago. And he told me it was just a game to him, none of it was real. I thought he loved me, I really did. I thought I did something wrong, that I wasn’t worthy. But the whole time I was nothing. So I told him to go away and never went back. Now I’m just fucked up.”

“I-” You can tell he’s a little bewildered, ashamed for having not realized. “I’m sorry. I should have done something. I knew he was too old but I-” Again, he pauses in realization. “I trusted him.”

“And I trusted you, Howie. That’s why I told you. I’m glad you didn’t tell anybody. That you were supportive. I needed it.” You’ve calmed a little now, and wipe your eyes on the back of your hand and wrist

“Here.” He hands you a box of tissues. You feel even dumber, crying as if you were the victim instead. Still, in your own way, you are.

“Thanks.” You take one out, sniffling again and wiping your eyes. You hold the box on your lap, absentmindedly studying its floral prints. “I just don’t want to be like him. I don’t want to hurt anybody like that. And I did.”

“But how do you know you’re like him? You didn’t manipulate him, and he’s an adult. Maybe it was just...sex that went a little too fast? I don’t want to say you’re wrong or anything, I just think that maybe it wasn’t so bad. You said he didn’t tell you to stop and wasn’t mad.”

“But I held him down,” you softly swear. “I was just...so mad at him. It’s like everything came back and when I told him to try and get up and get the ball he said he didn’t want to. He said he liked being where he was. And it’s like, something just snapped in me. I don’t know, ‘cause he was hitting on me or something? I don’t know. But for the first time, I was on top. And I’m not a kid anymore, ya know? I could finally overpower him. I could finally be the one in charge. And I.... I just wanted to make him feel how I felt. I’ve been so mad at him for so long. It’s like a constant burn, Howie. I couldn’t understand how he could do that to me, and just drop me. I wanted him to at least feel something like I did.”

“That makes sense, Nick. I don’t know what to say, if it’s right or wrong, but...I understand.”

“But the thing I really hate is...it felt so good. That was like the best orgasm of my entire life. Like all that anger and frustration that built up towards him was released when I came. And then I just felt bad. I felt scared like the little kid again. I mean things just went so far so fast and I lost myself--I don’t want to be like that. It just shouldn’t feel so good to hurt somebody.”

“I know you probably don’t like being told this over and over, but what if you didn’t hurt him? What if that’s what he wanted? You weren’t doing anything wrong if he wanted you to, if he said he liked where you were, and he didn’t tell you to stop.”

“I don’t know....”

“It kind of sounded to me like he was asking you to do it.”

“I... Do you really think that?” you ask with a timid sort of optimism.

“I think you need to talk to him. You have to know where he stands.”

“I don’t know... I’m just...scared,” you say, ending in a whisper.

“I know... I’ll stay with you while you talk, if you need me to. Just as, like, a referee I guess. So you don’t need to be afraid. But you guys need to talk. This has to be straightened out. The stuff that happened back then wasn’t a good situation, I won’t condone it, but I do believe Kevin is, at least now, a good man. I don’t think either of you are bad. But you need to understand each other. You have to get along, you can’t leave all this stuff unsettled. Maybe you could even...forgive each other.”

You scoff. “If he wanted me to fuck him, I don’t have anything for him to forgive.”

“I think you do. I mean, you’ve been so mad at him this whole time, right? You’ve hated him, where you once loved him. And you beat yourself up by shutting him out, you hurt yourself to hurt him. You ran away from the opportunity to fix things, like he ran away from you. And where are you now? You just had sex with him, and ran away again. You’re still acting like that naive kid.”

You’re just quiet, guiltily looking down. It was true.

“Stay here. I’ll find him. While I’m gone, I brought up some cookies, earlier. They’re right over there if you want some. The TV remote is next to them, too.”

“Thanks, Howie,” you sincerely say. “You made me feel, like, a lot better.”

“Good. I want you to always trust me.”

You don’t leave much of a break after Howie leaves before finding the treats and tearing open the bag. Eating is such a satisfying distraction, after all. Still, you’re scared. And you honestly want to run away again. To take off and maybe hide in Brian’s closet. But you know you shouldn’t. Howie was right. You have to deal with it.

Scenarios play through your mind of just what will happen not only when Kevin comes into the room, but when Howie finds him in the first place. Will Howie tell Kevin what you said? Will he say that he knows, and will Kevin be mad? What if he’s mad at you? Not just for what you recently did to him, but for outing him to Howie?

Yep, you are nothing more than that frightened little kid.

It’s time to turn on the TV. Nothing distracts better than that. And in no time you’re losing yourself in some mundane drama, reclined lazily against the pillows like you have not a care in the world. But that doesn’t mean it’s left your mind.

So when the clicks of the door opening break through your haze, every muscle in your body freezes. He’s there. Right behind Howie. He doesn’t look at you though, and you think you should look away, too. Inside your heart is pounding, too. You’re not so much afraid of him as afraid of owning up to what you’ve done. Not the slightest part of you wants to speak. You’ll make them do it all first.

And you still want to leave. Or hide under the bed.

You turn off the TV as Howie begins to speak. “I already told Kevin that I know what happened, Nick. He’s agreed to talk with me here. But I’m not going to talk for you guys. You have to talk to each other. You’re both equals, now. And you guys can’t leave it like this. It has to be fixed.”

Kevin steps closer to the bed, you can tell he’s almost as uncomfortable as you. Now he stands near, but you keep your head straight, not daring to make eye contact.

“Thank you.”

Despite your wanting to avoid it, you stare up with a critical gaze. He knows you’re confused, and silently asking just what the hell he could be thinking.

“I needed that. I needed...to understand it. All this time, I’ve been...pretending it didn’t happen.” He speaks slowly, with a contemplative drawl, as if it takes a little while to search for the right word and sort through his thoughts. “I didn’t want to be what I was, and I couldn’t believe I’d treated you like that. Like I... I didn’t know you. And I was stupid. I was an asshole, and I thought you wouldn’t care since you were just some kid. It just didn’t really dawn on me. ‘Cause I was just a dumb kid myself. It’s been a long time, Nick. And I’m really sorry for what I’ve done. I hate myself for it. I wish I could wash it away. I wish I could go back and talk to that stupid me, to make him realize. But I can’t. And I’m sorry that I hurt you. I’m sorry that I didn’t realize just how real you were, just how important you were, and just how much you mattered. I’m sorry I never told you why. But I just couldn’t admit it, to you or myself. I thought you were just easy sex, then you said you loved me and...I realized you were a person. And I was too scared to face you after that.”

“You were...” Your mouth has gone dry, and you have to clear your throat. “You were scared? To face me?”

“I was stupid. I thought if I just stopped it, if I just ignored all aspects of it, it would be like it didn’t happen. Like I was okay again. And then I saw you with that guy. And I was so angry. And so guilty. I knew it was because of me. You went to him because I screwed you up. I let it go for too long as it was. It ate me up more than anything to see him using you like that”

“How come you couldn’t tell me, Kevin?” Your voice is soft with a faint whine and evidence of new tears. “If I knew you cared I could have... I just thought you were being mean to me, that you hated me. You wanted to take away everything I had. And I asked you! I begged you to tell me why and you just ignored me again! I cried all night, Kevin! I have cried so much because of you!”

He’s very guilty now, his eyes downcast and face shamefully somber. He sits on the bed, not near you, but at the end. “I didn’t want to be responsible,” he softly says, knowing it’s still no excuse. “But I couldn’t let somebody else do that to you again. I was naive. Part of me actually thought you might understand. Like you could just tell, like reading my mind or something.”

“I never knew what you were thinking, Kevin. Not even after you told me what I really was. That just...it hurt me so much. Do you know what it’s like to be nothing, Kevin? Do you know what it’s like to be used? When you thought you meant so much? You made me feel so stupid. I still feel so stupid. I don’t know where I am or what I want or how to get it or how to even keep it.”

“I never thought you were stupid, Nick,” he quietly offers. “I just thought you wouldn’t care. I thought it wouldn’t mean anything, until I found out it did.”

“How could you think I wouldn’t care?”

“Because AJ... Well it wasn’t his fault, I’m not going to blame it on him or anything, but he kind of...encouraged me. Somehow he got me to say I thought you were cute. And we were talking and I said I wouldn’t mind doing some things with you. He said, ‘why not go ahead?’ And, of course, I stated the obvious, that you were just a kid. He said that was even more reason. He said when he was your age he used to go to this guy’s apartment all the time. And it was just sex, and it was hot. He said he liked it. And that since you were so young, if I just gave you what you wanted, I could get what I wanted, and you wouldn’t mind like he didn’t. I just...I was a bad person. I should have cared about you. And I didn’t know how to do it right. I didn’t know what I was doing. I thought if AJ liked it, it couldn’t have hurt so much. I never knew the right way; I never knew it didn’t have to hurt. I know that’s no excuse, but I’m really sorry. And ‘I’m sorry’ will never cut it, I know that, but it’s all I can say.”

You kind of feel bad. You never knew AJ was treated like that, too. But maybe it was different. AJ could always have casual sex. Maybe that guy really was good to him, too, especially if he recommended it to Kevin. “Is that why you let him watch? Or, I mean, know?”

“Basically. Yeah. I knew he didn’t mind it.”

You’re silent again.

Howie shifts.

“Did I... Did I really hurt you?” you force yourself to whisper, realizing it’s time for you to own up to what you’ve done.

“It’s fine. You just went a little too fast, that’s all.”

“No, I raped you,” you firmly state.

“Nick, I wanted you to do it. I told you that already. It wasn’t rape.”

“I did it ‘cause I was mad. And I remembered everything and just...thinking of doing it to you made me so...excited. And it felt so good and...it scared me. I don’t want to lose myself in anger like that. And I don’t want hurting someone to feel so good.”

“You didn’t hurt me. I mean, yes, my butt is sore, but you saw my dick. I was just as turned on. When I saw you run so fast, and I knew I couldn’t get you, I even-” He pauses for a pained grin. “-finished in the bushes.”

You’re a little bashful about it, too, and look down at the fingertip rubbing your thumb.

“Regardless, it brought us to this, Nick. It made us finally confront everything, instead of running away like before. There’s no reason for you to forgive me right now, and maybe not ever, but I would like to try my hardest to at least earn your respect. Or just to be your friend. I’m older now, and I promise I’ll never hurt you again. I just need you to give me a chance.”

You’re quiet, softly considering. You nod. “I’m still sorry...”

“Even though I’ll continue to assure you that it was by no means against my will or unwelcome, I accept that and hold nothing against you.”

“Thanks... And-” You look up, stopped because he’s not there. “Where’d Howie go?”

Kevin looks back, too. “I don’t know, I never heard the door open or anything.”

“Oh well...”

Another silence.

“I’ll leave now, if you want me to.” He attempts to stand up.

“No, it’s okay.” You’ve always been so quick to leave each other and never look back. You’re afraid it’ll happen again. And so you tell him. “I just kinda wonder...if you go again...you might not come back again, ya know? Or I’ll get to thinking too much or something and...I’ll push you away again.”

“I was thinking that, too...” He scoots a little bit closer, as if he were a magnet and getting closer might make it harder to leave.

“Maybe...maybe we could, like, try and meet tomorrow or something? Like, just us? And Howie? Just, like, talking and stuff. I don’t know.”

“Yeah, that sounds okay.” He watches you for a few moments, quietly intrigued by your own growing fascination with your fingertips. He knows you’re still nervous. And suddenly there’s a gentle hand atop yours. You let him take it into your own, and hold it back, meeting his gaze with curious eyes. You can see the shame in his, the desperate need to apologize again and again. Your eyes hold something similar.

It is a little awkward, as you’re entirely unsure what to do now. But your hand is quite appreciative of Kevin’s gentleness, and you start to lose yourself in his touch. You’re calm. Calm with Kevin, because of Kevin, and it’s something you’ve never really felt before. But then it starts to pinch, this realization of what you’ve never felt before. From anyone. Not such compassionate concern. Your already weary face breaks with new tears, and your free hand attempts to hide it.

Kevin’s grasp tightens, “What’s wrong?” It’s clear he thinks he has done something to hurt you again.

You can’t answer, especially as you hold your breath, attempting retrain your sobs while the odd, forceful gasp sneaks through you nostrils.

“Hey, I... I didn’t mean to make you cry again.” He’s more distressed about it, and that only fuels what’s already leaving your control. “I-” He pauses, confused and concerned and entirely uncertain of just how to help.

Then you feel a pull, encouraging you to lean towards his direction. His arms come around you, his now clothed upper body embracing you. He’s warm and firm and you begin to flat out sob into his shoulder. He shushes you, rubbing your back and holding your head with such gentle sympathy. And this causes only more tears to fall. They’re softer sobs, with only the faintest whimpers, from an ache you’ve also never felt before. It’s not so hurt. It’s not devastated or confused or so desperately needy. It’s just relieved. So grateful to be held within this caring it’s always silently longed for.