They’ve done so well today with purposefully combating these heavier moments, but sometimes it helps to just remind them they don’t have to do it alone.
Qiang’s eyes shutter before they shake their head in disagreement.
“No, that's not–you didn't–goddamit,” they grumble before looking up at me. “You didn't make me feel that way; I just know that I can be a lot most of the time.”
“I hate that you’ve been made to feel that way, but I’ve never felt like you were a lot of anything except good things. A lot of pretty. A lot of smart. A lot of talented. A lot of sassy. A lot of feral–” I say before Qiang smacks me lightly on the arm.
“Marcus,” they hiss out in that adorably feral tone that’s telling me to shut up in the most ‘proving my point’ kind of way.
I chuckle at their response before meeting their eyes with sincerity in mine.
“I know we've had rough moments, but even in the very bleakest hours when I truly thought I'd never have this chance, I still knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that you were, are, and always will be absolutely worth every ounce of care and patience I have.”
Qiang’s eyes flutter for a moment before meeting my sincerity.
“Thank you,” they start to say, and I immediately want to counter it, because I don’t need their thanks; I need their acceptance, but they must have seen it coming because they rush out a “no, wait, don't say anything” before I can.
“It's just, I'd shut down the possibility of ever having something like this with anyone again, and I'm just so luck–happy.”They change the word midway when they see yet another argument forming on the tip of my tongue.“That you came into my life and showed me what I was missing. I'm so thankful for you coming into my life. You’ve made all the difference in all the best ways,” they finish.
The sentiment has my heart pounding erratically. I trail my thumb along their cheekbone while their face burrows into the palm of my hand. Their eyes meet mine, and they can see the million things swimming in them to tell them how deeply I appreciate their words, including how happy I am that they had the courage to say them. I know how hard they struggle to allow themself to be vulnerable enough to be truly seen, and especially to go out of their way to invite that visibility upon them.
But I also know there are a whole lot of really deep words and emotions in all the things I want to say that’ll just make them uncomfortable and eventually snappish, which will only derail it. So I bite my tongue, let them see the gravity of it in my eyes, while I take the conversation back to where it originally started.
“You have less than ten seconds to step away and do whatever it is you need to do, or I’m gonna haul you back up in my arms and fuck you against the wall right now.”
Their pupils dilate, showing how little of a threat that was to them. “Well, as tempting as that sounds,” they say, stepping further away from me.
Their face curls into a flirtatious smirk that has my cock filling with anticipation at what's about to come.
“I’m gonna pop in the studio; no peeking, and I’ll be out in a minute. So just stay here, get less dressed, and go sit on the bed,” they instruct before disappearing into their studio.
The anticipation they leave behind is ridiculous, because my normal mode of smooth and suave is nowhere in existence when I try to take everything off at once and nearly fall on my ass, not once, but twice.
It stuns me regularly how ridiculously captivated Qiang has me. Not because there is anything about them that couldn't be completely captivating, but because I've never felt even a hint of being able to feel something like this for anyone ever before them.
I don’t know how many times I sit down and arrange myself into what I think is the sexiest pose ever, only to realize how utterly ridiculous I’m being and get up to pace before doing it all over again. There’s a nervousness coiling through me, in addition to the anticipated curiosity about whatever Qiang is about to show me.
Not only am I about to see a new layer to them thatno onehas ever seen before, but they are also about to give me something I’ve never experienced before, and the nervous energy ofthatis slowly building.
We’ve been working up to it with fingers and toys all week. In theory, I know what’s coming. But the thought that it’s going to be Qiang’s cock inside of me has my brain tripping all over the place.
“Are you ready?” Qiang peeks their head out from behind the door, their body still hidden, while mine tightens with anticipation.
At this point, I’m sitting on the edge of their bed, my legs splayed out in front of me, with my hands flat on their purple bedspread. I’m in nothing but my boxer briefs, and there's no way they don't see how the anticipation is affecting me. The smug way they roll their bottom lip between their teeth when their eyes flicker downward to my tented briefs just proves that.
The rest of their body unfurls from behind the door, showing they're dressed in a lilac knee-length satin robe. I take them in, thinking this right here is sexy enough to undo me, but then again, Ithought the same ten minutes ago when they were fully dressed and tossing their hair in that hot, confident way of theirs.
They move to the center of the room, their eyes bouncing between my eyes and my shamelessly hard cock.
“Are you ready?”
And there’s a small part of me that doesn’t really know if I am. Despite having already seen them fully naked, there’s still something that tells me whatever is hidden underneath that robe is going to destroy whatever plane of reality I ever thought I grasped before this moment.
Regardless of the building anticipation in my throat, I still nod my head.
“Okay, breathe,” they murmur to themself so quietly that I barely catch it.
And they do just that, inhaling one deep, steady breath, holding it for a second, and then exhaling, before, with a flourish, they unknot the robe and let it drop to the floor around them.
