Page 20 of Taste

He sighed so loudly, so finally, it made me mad.

“You can’t, can you? Because you have no idea what to do with me. It’s a fucking mess. All of this.”

“Go to sleep, Mark.” He tugged the cover back over his shoulder—a stupid repetitive action that did nothing to protect him. Because he couldn’t deal with this. And I was one to speak, because I couldn’t either.

“Come here.” That was me, being ridiculous again, and he was absolutely right. We both needed to sleep.

“The fuck, Mark?” He shifted further away. Tucked the duvet tighter around his shoulders again, leaving my arse bare and exposed. “Why do you have to keep at this?”

“Finn. Come here before I have to drag you. You need a hug and so do I. We’re both a mess and we need to sleep. So, for fuck’s sake, make it easy on both of us andcome here.” I said the two last words with feeling, louder than the rest.

“Mark.” This time, his voice was less sure, and all his previous jolliness was gone.

“Finn.” I tugged at the duvet. Tugged harder. Made him roll onto his back. “It’s dark. We won’t have to talk about this in the morning. Just come here and let me hold you so we can get to sleep. I won’t do anything else. We just need to calm the fuck down and realise that at the end of the day, we’re just two dudes with issues, but perhaps if we can just hug it all out, things will seem a little brighter in the morning.”

I could feel his stare. Not that he could see me, and I surely couldn’t see him. But he shifted under the covers, and his skin encountered my arm as I raised it over my head so he could place his head on my chest. I was more than surprised how easily he had relented to my demands. Yet here he was with my lips in his hair, a ridiculous victorious sigh escaping my mouth as his arm settled across me and his hand came to a rest on my shoulder.

“Don’t say a word,” he grunted.

He smelt gorgeous. Of soap and water and faintly of that cologne he always wore.

“Mouth is firmly zipped. Promise.” I wanted to laugh, but I was too overwhelmed to even think.

Then his legs moved, tangling with mine as I shifted, both of us shuffling until a sudden stop when I realised this wasn’t a hug. This was a hostile takeover of my feelings, and I was riddled with warmth and something I vaguely recognised as contentment. A feeling I hadn’t had for a long, long time.

“I’m not hard and emotionally stunted or whatever.” His murmur rumbled against my chest. “I’m just not particularly good with feelings.”

“That’s okay,” I said, which was the truth, and this wasn’t okay at all. I wanted to just hold him and pretend there weren’t so many feelings involved that it was making me light-headed.

“I’m not good at looking after other people’s feelings, Mark. I hurt people, and then I get hurt. It’s easier to pretend there’s nothing there. It keeps me sane. It’s just who I am.” He sounded embarrassed and had once again stunned me into silence with his openness, like he didn’t mind that it was me on the other side of the conversation.

It was unbelievable coming from him, all this feelings-and-hurting bullshit like he knew what he was talking about. I couldn’t imagine him ever having been hurt, the guy whose heart was made from concrete. But maybe it wasn’t.

“If that’s true, can we drop the act for a second, please, and pretend that we’re fine, just like this. Can we do that? Please? Because I’m too tired to keep this up, when there’s just you and me here. Lie with me and let me pretend we mean something to each other.”

“Why would you want to do that?” He sounded small. Tired. He sounded like me.

“Because sometimes, we need to feel like we’re more than just okay. That we were not so fucked up and alone, and that life isn’t such a constant struggle.”

“But that’s not real life, Mark. Lifeisa constant struggle, and I think you and I are probably the most fucked-up people on this planet. I mean, look at us.” He waved his hand in the darkness. I felt the waft of air hitting my chin. “Just look at us. We’re both so high on our own importance that we can’t even have a simple conversation without yelling at each other or hurling insults or…” He seemed to swallow whatever words were going to roll off his tongue next and instead took a wheezy breath. “…being stupid and childish. And that goes for both of us, Godfrey.”

I wasn’t going to take the bait, not when we were having the most honest conversation we’d ever had. “I agree things have got out of hand. All this kissing the hell out of each other, then things happen, and we end up hating on each other or getting each other off. I know.”

“Yougot me off. And yourself. I had nothing to do with that one.” He was giggling again. Fucking giggling.

“And I thought I was the childish one here. Grow up, Finley.”

“Fuck off, Godfrey.”

He had me giggling too, but I sobered quickly and admitted, “You make me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time, Finn. It’s just unfortunate that it’s you. I don’t know how to deal with it.”

“Then don’t,” he said.

We were quiet after that.

His warm breath fanned my chest, his fingers dancing over the skin of my shoulder, and I breathed him in, my nose buried in his hair and my arms around him, one hand cupping his head, the other stroking his back in small movements.

It felt like hours, just lying there. His heart beat steady, his breathing soft and quiet. It was probably only minutes, but I fell asleep like that, helplessly and mercilessly. I didn’t remember my last thoughts, just a feeling of being safe and loved. It wasn’t real. It didn’t matter, though. For a little while, I could pretend that everything was perfect.

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