Page 40 of Magic in My Bones

“What's wrong?” Dorian’s voice was soft, his brow furrowing with concern as he studied my face. His hands, warm and steady, rested on my shoulders, but I still felt like I was spinning.

I swallowed hard, feeling the heat creep up my face, embarrassed by how exposed I felt. “I’ve never... I mean, thatwas my first kiss. I don’t really know what I’m doing,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it out loud might make it more real, and more awkward.

Dorian’s expression softened. His fingers brushed a stray lock of hair from my forehead, the touch tender, almost reverent. “I'm honored to be your first, mo stóirín,” he murmured, the Gaelic endearment falling naturally from his lips. “In Ireland, we say that first kisses are blessed by the Fair Folk themselves, though I suspect what I'm feeling has more to do with you than any faerie magic.”

His hands were steady on my shoulders, grounding me even as my heart threatened to beat out of my chest. The way he looked at me like I was something precious, something worth cherishing made my breath catch. Even through my nervousness, I couldn't help but notice how the moonlight caught in his auburn hair, how his eyes seemed to hold fragments of every shade of green I'd ever seen.

“I sense there’s more troubling you than just inexperience,” he said.

His words pulled me back into the moment and away from the whirlpool of thoughts threatening to drown me. My cheeks burned, and my stomach twisted into knots. This was the part I had been dreading, the conversation I knew we would eventually have.

I took a deep, shaky breath, steeling myself for what I needed to say. But the words felt thick, stuck in my throat like a block of ice. “This is all new territory for me, Dorian. Not just the kissing, but... everything. I've never had anyone look at me the way you do. Like they see me. Really see me.” My hands gripped the fabric of my pants, seeking something to hold on to, as if grounding myself might make it easier to keep speaking. “And I...” I stumbled, searching for the right words, my chest tightening. I tried again. “My body is... I’m not—”

Dammit, why wasn’t there a class on how to do this? Why didn’t someone write a manual for moments like these?

I trailed off, the words tangled on my tongue. Dorian’s eyes never wavered from mine. They were patient, understanding, like he could see past my fear and frustration. He didn’t rush me. He simply waited, giving me space to breathe, to find my voice.

Finally, the words burst out of me, too fast and raw to hide. “Because I’m trans,” I managed, my voice cracking. “My body isn’t... it isn’t going to match what you’re used to. I’m not—”

“Stop,” Dorian said, his voice gentle but firm, his hand moving to cup my cheek. “Ren, I need you to listen to me.” His touch was warm, grounding me in a way that made the storm inside me quiet down, just a little. “None of that changes what I feel for you. I’m not attracted to some idea of masculinity, Ren. I’m attracted toyou.Who you are, inside and out.”

I swallowed hard, still uncertain. “But... if you’re gay, and I’m...” I trailed off, my words hanging awkwardly in the air between us.

Dorian’s thumb brushed softly across my skin, his gaze soft and unwavering. “Ren, I don’t need you to fit into some pre-conceived box of masculinity for me. I’m attracted to you because of who you are, because of your kindness, your strength, the way you think, the way you care. You don’t need to be anything you’re not, or anything anyone expects. I’m here with you, because of you.Thatis what matters.”

The words sank in slowly, settling into my bones like a comforting warmth. I looked at Dorian, really looked at him, and saw nothing but sincerity in those green eyes. A lump formed in my throat, and I had to blink back the sudden sting of tears.

“You really mean that?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Dorian's smile was soft, tender. “Every word. Ren, I care about you deeply. And that includes all of you, exactly as you are.”

I let out a shaky breath, feeling like a weight had lifted from my chest. For so long, I had carried this fear, this certainty that my identity would always be a barrier, a reason for rejection. But here was Dorian, looking at me with such open affection, accepting me wholly and unreservedly.

“I don't know what to say,” I admitted, a watery laugh escaping me. “I'm not used to... to this.”

Dorian's hand slid from my cheek to the back of my neck, gently pulling me closer until our foreheads touched. “Then I'll keep reminding you until you believe it in your bones. You are worthy of love and desire, Ren. Exactly as you are.” He hesitated, but only slightly. “May I kiss you again?” he asked, but this time his voice held a darker, more commanding note. His thumb traced my lower lip, and when I nodded, he took control of the kiss completely. There was nothing hesitant about it now; he kissed me like he was claiming me, like he knew exactly what he wanted and how to take it.

The heat of his body against mine was intoxicating, igniting a fire in my veins that I had never known before. I felt like a live wire, every sensation heightened beyond anything I'd experienced before. The press of his weight against me sent waves of heat through me, making me gasp against his mouth. His fingers in my hair sent shivers cascading down my spine, and when his tongue traced my bottom lip, I made a sound I'd never heard myself make before, something between a whimper and a moan that should have embarrassed me but only made me want more.

The world narrowed to points of contact: his hand at my waist, burning through layers of fabric; the gentle scrape of his stubble against my skin; the way his chest rose and fell against mine with each ragged breath. Every touch felt like discovering a new kind of magic, one that lived in the spaces between our heartbeats.

I was drowning in sensation, in the taste of him, the scent of his skin, the little noises he made in the back of his throat. Every point of contact between us felt electric, like sparks dancing on my skin.

The kiss deepened, and my whole body felt like it was on fire, as if every inch of me was responding to Dorian’s touch. His hands were everywhere, tangling in my hair, pulling me closer, his fingers warm against my skin.

But then, as I adjusted, I felt the hard ridge of his erection press against my leg. It was impossible to ignore, and I froze, my breath catching.

A wave of uncertainty swept over me, but it quickly shifted to something else. Something heady. Sexy. A feeling I’d never allowed myself to believe I deserved. Heat pooled low in my belly, a molten sensation that made me tremble. Every brush of his hands left trails of fire on my skin, and I found myself pressing closer, craving more of that electric contact. My breath came in short gasps, and my heart hammered so hard I was sure he must be able to feel it. It was overwhelming, but in the best possible way. It was like standing on the edge of something extraordinary, knowing you're about to fall but trusting completely that you'll be caught.

The realization that I could affect him this way, that my touch could make his breath hitch and his hands tighten on my waist, was intoxicating. It made me feel powerful and vulnerable all at once, like I was finally inhabiting my body fully, discovering its capacity for pleasure without shame or fear. My chest tightened, but not with fear; no, this was different. This was the kind of attention I’d spent years convincing myself I wasn’t worthy of.

I pulled back just enough to breathe, my forehead still resting against his, my pulse racing. I could feel the heat in my cheeks, and I was sure I was blushing—hard. I couldn’t even look at him at first, feeling exposed, embarrassed, and… something else, too.

“Are you—” I swallowed hard, my voice coming out breathless and shaky. “Is this okay? I mean…”

Dorian’s hand immediately found my face again, his thumb brushing across my cheek in that familiar, grounding way. He took a deep breath, his voice low and steady as he spoke, making my heart race even more. “Ren,” he said softly, “let me be clear. We go at your pace. I’m not asking for anything more than what you want to give. If you want to stop, if you’re ever uncomfortable, just say the word, okay?”

I blinked, trying to steady my breath, my cheeks burning hotter now. His words wrapped around me like a blanket, easing the panic I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding on to. But there was still that undercurrent of warmth in my chest.

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