Something More | Randy

chapter twenty | tension

When Rye had suggested that we take time to figure out what we were, I hadn't really known what that had meant exactly. 

After three weeks, I came to the conclusion that it mostly meant making out in public bathrooms, or around corners where nobody could see us, then springing apart at the slightest noise. It meant sneaking into each other's beds when the house was quiet, spending an hour or so clashing tongues and grinding hips until we could hardly stand to continue without making noises, then sneaking back out to wake up in our separate beds when morning came. 

Our restraint was gradually fading. The make outs got riskier and riskier. More than once I had failed to make it back to my own bed by morning, opting instead to curl up in his arms because I slept so much better that way. It wasn't long before hands began to roam where they hadn't before. But every time things headed too far into the direction of the unknown, I began to feel the doubts rising again to the surface, scaring away the passion. 

All the same, the effect he had on me was insane. I was hardly ever relaxed. My heart sped up every time Rye and I were in the same room- it was crazy to imagine I'd ever peacefully coexisted with him with the way I reacted to him now. 

Between the crazy lust, and the ever present gaze of Brooklyn and Jack, I felt constantly on edge. A cloud of tension had settled over us, the heaviness of the air making it hard to breathe. 

"You alright?" Brooklyn checked one studio day as I returned, frazzled, from a 'bathroom break' with Rye. I couldn't even vocalise a response, just made a gesture that communicated something like I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. 

The truth of the matter was, this situation wasn't doing me any favours. I had already figured out that I loved him, and compared to that, everything else felt small and inconsequential. All those concerns that had harangued me for so long- they had melted away the second our lips met by the fountain in Rome; the first time I had felt like he was as much mine as I was his. But this sexual tension was threatening to destroy me. 

And Rye and I were no strangers to tension. Every time I'd kissed him onstage and for a fleeting second the audience had disappeared. Every morning he'd woken up and wandered shirtless around our old one bedroom flat, still hazy from sleep. Every time he'd cracked an innuendo joke and looked at me a little too long, challenging me to respond, and I'd had to push him away. Tension was an everyday part of our relationship. But this was on another level.

***

"Andyyy?" Rye called from somewhere in the house as I sat on the couch playing Fifa. My heart instantly jumped out of my chest. So much for the zen state I had created for myself, video games and chill music couldn't make me immune to him. 

"In here!" I called back, focussing on the screen. I felt a pair of arms wrap around me from behind the couch, and a soft kiss placed against my cheek. Lately every alone moment we'd had together had immediately turned into rushed passion. This little kiss felt so ordinary. It was sort of lovely. 

"What you playing?" He asked, squashing his face up next to mine. 

"Fortnite, can't you tell?" I answered sarcastically, pointing with the controller towards the little football players on the screen. 

Rye laughed. "Love a bit of Fortnite, can I play?"

"Sure, just let me finish this then you can drop in." I joked back. 

He grabbed a controller and took a seat next to me. We sat together, playing and chatting and humming along to the music. For the first time in a while, I felt calm in his presence, the way I always used to.