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I squeeze his hand back—I got you—and the answering stare he gives hits with enough force that I’m dizzy with the need to finish this. A need that seems to ripple through me and into him as his hips shudder and he arches his neck, the angle of it tearing his mouth from where I can see it.

And yet, it doesn’t matter.

Because I know him, I have him, and I sink my teeth into his inner thigh and send him tumbling over the edge.

I make him come and it’s beautiful.

Long and hot. Intense beyond what two simple men should be capable of. It’s everything and I miss it when it’s gone.

We’ve made a mess. A glorious mess.

I clean up. Oscar doesn’t move save to throw an arm over his eyes and I give him a moment. Give him space…

That he apparently doesn’t want.

Without shifting his arm, he hauls me in, his grip shaky as he still labours for breath. “I’m glad you do not have neighbours, my friend.”

“You were loud?”

“I am afraid so.”

“Don’t be afraid.”

Oscar lets his arm fall away. “I’m not. I was not. I have wanted that with you since we kissed two years ago.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I suppose I am lucky to have no…” he waves his hand, losing the word for a moment before he finds it. “…no hang ups.” His expression turns reflective. “I know it’s not like that for everyone. Especially when these things come to us later in life.”

I settle beside him with little thought to how normal it feels to have him in my bed and not ever wanting him to leave. “But you don’t?”

He shakes his head, yawning a little. “I keep waiting for a crisis to hit me.” His smile is faint in the glow of the lamp. “Instead I find myself mostly looking back at moments I have forgotten.”

“Like what?”

“Nothing specific.” Oscar stares at the ceiling for a moment I take advantage of to curl a loose lock of his hair around my finger. He looks back at me and smiles. “Feelings, perhaps. Fascinations I had no reason to think much of at the time.”

“How do you feel about it now?”

“Curious, as ever, no? I don’t mind rearranging old memories into the pattern they were always meant to be. But I wonder…if I had grown up around Sol, or River and Rubi, if perhaps I would’ve known this about myself sooner.”

“All those missed opportunities, eh?”

He snorts. “Probably not. I have never sought out casual sex. The one time I did, I wound up with Aras, and I didn’t like what I learned about myself then.”

For the first time since this conversation began, regret seeps into Oscar’s body language, and I know he’s not talking about Aras. Not literally, anyway. “What happened?”

“I was drunk. And reckless with Hanna. I didn’t use a condom or even think to. She doesn’t hold it against me, but what if I had been a man like Sol’s father? She is tied to me forever and I am nothing but trouble.”

“That’s hypothetical, not reality. And unless she was too drunk to consent, she had autonomy over her own body that night.”

“That’s what she says,” Oscar concedes. “I just do not like that I set a terrible example for my son before he was even born.”

I think he’s being hard on himself. But I know how it would hit if anyone told me how to feel. So I don’t say anything. And eventually, Oscar lets out a sigh that rattles my bones as much as his. “Perhaps if I had known you.”

“Known me?”

“Taip—yes. If I had known you when I was twenty, I think I would’ve asked myself different questions.”