Teddy

The night is still young when we fall back on the pillows, panting and sweating and still riding our individual and mutual highs. Adrenaline is still pumping through my veins; I can feel the last tremors rocking through my body, and Kellin’s as well as throws his arm over mine.

We don’t need to say anything for a few moments; the silence, awed and electrified, speaks for itself. Then his voice, hoarse and high-pitched as ever cuts through the darkness. “My god, Vic,” he moans happily. I glance over at him. He’s staring at the ceiling, blue eyes almost orb-like in the faint moonlight streaming in through the window. “That was . . .”

“Yeah,” is all I can muster. He doesn’t need to find the proper adjective; I know exactly what he means. Then I chuckle, “What was all that Spanish towards the end? I couldn’t even make it out.

He laughs sleepily. “I dunno. Gibberish, I think. It just seemed fitting.”

He looks so beautiful, sweat pasting strands of hair to his forehead, eyes still dazed and elated, it automatically makes my lips stretch into a soft smile. My stomach tingles with warmth and affection. Even after all these months, the mere sight of the dark-haired man still gives me the butterflies. Honestly, with perfection like that, it’s harder breathing next to him.

“I love you,” I say, the words low but clear. I find his hand without looking and he finally meets my eyes, a half-smile still lighting up his features.

“Love you too,” he says.

I close my eyes in bliss. It never gets old, hearing him say that.

I pull him into my arms easily, naturally, and he feels so fucking good there, but it only lasts for a few moments before he begins to pull away as always.

“Kellin . . .”

“You know I got work tomorrow, Vic. Samson will be pissed if I’m not there for opening.” He shrugs apologetically, already pushing himself off the bed and moving towards his clothes.

I know I’m being a baby, but I feel my face fall as my very skin seems to protest his absence. He’s pulling his pants on now, and I sigh and sit up. “You could miss work. Just this once.”

“You know I can’t.”

“Or just leave early tomorrow morning.”

“We’ve had this conversation. I gotta be home in the morning to let the dogs out. Besides,” The crooked grin is back, melting my heart. “You know there’s no way I could get to work on time, waking up next to you.”

I frown at the logic as he shrugs into his T-shirt, then follows the trail of clothing until he finds his Toms by the door. I want to say, Fuck the dogs, and fuck work, just come back to bed, baby, but he’s right; this conversation has taken place too many times in the past for me to hope for a different outcome now. So I pull the sheets over my legs resignedly and study him—his movements, his facial expressions; it’s become a hobby of mine since meeting him. Once he’s clothed—although the sex hair will be a dead giveaway to anyone he passes on the way home—he doubles back into my bedroom for one last kiss.

My hand floats to his cheek as our lips mold together, but before I can even respond to the kiss properly he’s gone again.

“See you tomorrow?” he murmurs, eyes twinkling.

“Of course.”

And just like that, I’m sitting alone in my room, naked under the covers and feeling the noticeable lack of Kellin settle in the room like a cold chill through my bones.

I have never once witnessed Kellin sleeping.