Secret Son / Bang Chan

Part 18 18+

We don't pay attention to where our phones get discarded as Chan crowds into my apartment, his lips never leaving mine. His shoes get kicked of and his denim jacket haphazardly thrown over the arm of the couch as he leads me into my bedroom.

And I'm breathless, my heart hammering against my rib age, my hands blindly grabbing at any part of him I could reach. His arm, skin warm in his black t-shirt. His back, shoulders broad and muscular, the back of his neck, his curly hair that I always loved playing with, his chest where I can feel the same frantic heartbeat like the one in my own.

I don't need to be told to jump when his hands slide down to the back of my thighs. It was like we were merely continuing something we had just recently began, and I'm shocked to find how much I remember, my arms and legs wrapping around him as he pushes my bedroom door open and carries me in, clumsily closing it again with his elbow.

The dance was familiar, it was the same one we would do after his swim meets when he was still high on his victory, it was the same one we would do on Friday nights after being invited to one of his friends frat parties, it was the same one brought on by the emotional freight train of him leaving to go to Australia.

His mouth detaches from mine, latching into my neck, which I happily bare for him, his hands kneading at the bare flesh of my thighs.
I'm wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and a pair of panties to sleep in.
His plump lips kiss up my wild pulse, teeth softly nipping and I gasp, barley remembering that I was supposed to be quiet. His hot breath fans over my neck and he lets out a little his when my grip on his hair tightened.

"I've missed this so much." He whispered into my skin and pressed me against him even tighter, the muscles in his arms flexing.

I just nod in response and I feel him smile against my skin as he lowers me onto the bed, hovering above me, his weight supported on his arms resting on either side of my head:

"I've missed sneaking into your place in the middle of the night and you greeting me all warm from your bed. You always looked so cute-"

He stopped abruptly and Jen his gaze slide down my torso and fixated on the faded t-shirt I was wearing. It used to be black with a bright yellow lettering that spelled the name of his favorite band, Nirvana, but now it was a charcoal grey, the neckline stretched, and the design chipping from being being washed so many times:

"Is that my shirt?" He asked, eyes widening. I had to look down to remind myself what shirt I had been wearing in the first place. How I'd managed to forget that it was his is beyond me. I nod.

Chan groans softly, even through the big dimples grin on his face, and inches his hips closer to mine, rubbing against where I wanted him:

"That's so hot. You're mine, you've always been mine."

It's a hot, breathy whisper and I try to pull him down into another kiss but he resists and shakes his head:

"No, say it."

I lick my lips and even with how dark the room is I can can clearly see his face, expectant, chiseled, staring down at me. I can feel how hard is already was against my clothed core, I can't help but grind, it's instinct, but he still shakes his head and tried to pull back despite how tight my legs are gripping him:

"Say it or I'm not fucking you."

My teeth sink into my bottom lip. My entire body tenses, I don't want him to pull away, but the longer I think, the more it feels like he's slipping out of my grasp.

"What if I say it?"

He sighs and it sounds tired:

"I just told you I love you, what do you think is going to happen?" 

I stay silent and he sighs again, this time a wide smile spreading across his lips.

"I stay with you. I want you to be mine, again. I want to be yours, again. I want to not have to arrange to see my son like I'm meeting an ambassador. I want to pick him up from daycare and bring him home. To our home. I want to sleep in the same bed with you and see you in my clothes everyday. I want to call you on my way home from work and ask we need anything from the grocery store. I want to get up in the middle of the night and check if Grey is tucked in. I want to celebrate holidays together. Lift Grey up to put the star on the Christmas tree. I want to be the first and last thing you see and think about before you fall asleep. I-"

"You've been thinking about this a lot haven't you?"

I feel tears prick my eyes again, but this time they're happy tears, relief that I never knew I needed flooded my system.

"Every single day." He says simply and I let out a shuddery sigh, feeling like I'm letting go and falling backwards, in slow motion, through the sky, hoping he would catch me before I hit the ground:

"I am yours." I barley whisper and I know he's heard me with how he's laser focused on my face, but he smirks like the little shit he is:

"Again, I couldn't hear you."

I don't fight against it this time, I don't want to:

"I am yours." I repeat, more sure of it this time, and he lowers himself on his elbows instead of his palms, face mere inches away from mine:

"Yes, you are. Just mine. And I'll make sure you never forget it."