Page 40 of Love Mediation
“Sorry,” he whispered. “I…shouldn’t have said it like that. I know I have no right to keep you–”
Leon barked out a laugh and tipped his head to rest against James’. “In case it wasn’t obvious last night, darlin’, I’ve also decided to keep you.”
James pressed his eyes closed, both at Leon’s words and the fact that he was about to reach the blank pages at the end of the book.
Pages rustled as he presumably flipped through them. “This is so sweet, James,” Leon said. “Thank you. I didn’t get you much, but I–”
His words cut off, and James’ breath caught.
“You…” Leon whispered.
James squeezed his eyes tighter before, finally, the silence became too much. He cracked one open to peer down at the book. Leon was indeed on the right page.
Leon brushed his fingers over the words, and then he turned, raising a hand to James’ cheek to lift his head up. Their eyes met, and Leon surprised him by smirking. “You have really bad handwriting.”
James spluttered, all of his mounting anxiety and angst disappearing as the ball vibrated with his boyfriend’s soft chuckle. “You–”
“Uh-uh,” Leon said, eyes still dancing with mirth. “Wrong pronoun, darlin’. Try again.”
James was confused for only a moment. “I…”
“There you go, love. You’re so close,” he whispered, causing goosebumps to break out across James’ skin.
James wanted to crack his knuckles, but he was using one hand for balance, and the other was trapped against Leon’s side. He wanted to bite his lip, but he needed that to finish his sentence.
He took in a shaky breath, glanced down at the book, and then back up into warm pools of honeyed brown that no longer held jest or humor. They held all the memories James hadn’t been able to fit in the book. Years of miscommunication and strife, followed by over half a year of budding friendship, shared laughs, and mutual pining. Finally, there were the last few blissful, bumbling months of figuring out dating, sleepovers, sex, and how to share a life with another person.
Last night, there were tears, and even a few minutes ago, James had still been crying. Now, though, both of their eyes were dry. James lifted his face, so their lips were a breath apart, just far enough for James to say what he had wanted–no, needed–to say for weeks.
“I love you, Leon.”
Oops. Maybe James had spoken a little too soon about there being no tears. Leon’s eyes filled in an instant, spilling down his cheeks as James’ eyes stung in sympathy.
“I love you, my little mensch.”
Their kiss tasted stale, and James regrettably realized that neither of them had brushed their teeth the night before. But for just a moment, that didn’t matter because somehow the kiss was still achingly sweet. Sweeter than the cake they’d eaten instead of dinner and all the treats James would need to explain, because he swore there was significance or a story or, at the very least, a reference to each of them.
Right now, though, there was just their lips, pressing and connecting them together.
