The Gloves are Off

Untitled Part 11

You had ended up showin' Vik a really cook old-school fight themed diner, the owner, Benny, being a retired boxer himself and a long-time friend of yours. Honestly, the closest thing to a father-figure you have... He and Vik hit it off, after the initial standoff of course, Benny being protective of you and usually not caring much for the thought of you dating.

To be fair, you had never brought any guys around, never thought any were worth introducing or gettin' too involved with. Surprised the hell outta Benny, made Vik blush like hell when he brought it up, grinnin' from ear to ear.

Embarrassed the shit outta you... but seein' Vik's reaction made it worth the trouble. How happy it made him, how clear it was that he understood the significance.

You wanted to show him this wasn't just another fling to you, that you had plans to see where this went, and it seemingly did just that.

Granted, you two really don't know that much about each other, yet. But that comes with time, and even with a few long-term relationships in your past, you can honestly say, none of them ever made you feel like Vik does...

Somethin's different 'bout him.

As cliché as it is to say, it felt like you'd known each other forever already.

Gah.

Few months ago, you woulda gagged just hearin' that, much less having it in your own head.

Now look at you.

Grinning to yourself like some giddy teenage girl the morning after her first real date.

You roll over in bed, stretching and procrastinating actually getting up, knowing the day holds mostly recon for the upcoming gig and dreading each dwindling second.

If you could go back to last night, you would.

Savor it a bit longer.

You'd talked for hours, just spendin' time together, gettin' to know each other better. Didn't feel forced though, just flowed naturally, the rare silences not even being awkward, usually filled by him pressing his lips to the back of your hand.

He'd even just kinda glance over at you and smirk from time to time, earning a grin of your own in return and pink flush along your cheeks when you'd ask what he keeps lookin' at. 'Course he'd just shake his head and look away, tell you how beautiful you are, makin' you both blush and absolutely hating yourself for actually being into all the sappy shit happening between the two of you.

You even feel a blush creeping along your cheeks now, just from remembering how he stood at your door, having insisted on drivin' you home when he found out you'd walked to lunch that day.

Your hands had barely left each other's all day, but he'd pulled you in for a tight hug, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple and lingering there before pulling away.

The flush deepens as warmth spreads along your cheeks, grinning broadly to yourself like an absolute fuckin' idiot and burying your face in your pillow to avoid the humiliation of... well... no one else is here, but it feels embarrassing anyway.

You replay the moment in your mind over an over. Wanting to hold onto it as long as possible.

His hands moving to caress your face, his own inching closer before finally... the light pressure of his lips on yours... your heart thumping against your chest and stomach sent in summersaults... his lips slowly moving, your hands gripping the collar of his shirt but keepin' things slow and gentle.

The way he looked at you when he pulled away.

Fuck.

The way he looked period...