11

Nerves buzz low in my stomach as I knock on Theo's door. "It's open!" he yells, and I frown as I let myself into his apartment.

"You shouldn't leave your door unlocked," I say loud enough that it carries since he isn't standing in his living room.

I carry the pizza to his small table and set the cardboard box on top of it as he hollers back. "Yeah, yeah. I watched you pull in, so I unlocked it as you were walking up here. Don't worry, I'm not being an idiot."

"What kind of pizza did you get?" His voice sounds closer this time, and I turn to find him standing behind me in a pair of loose, low-hanging cotton pants and a crop-length sweatshirt. My eyes drift down his slender stomach and back up, watching him bite his nails nervously.

I walk over and gently pry his hands away from his mouth, guiding them up to my lips and pressing a gentle kiss on his knuckles. "You'll mess your nail polish up if you don't stop that."

"That just gives me an excuse to redo them. I'll paint yours, too."

I release him and return to the table. "Something tells me I can't pull it off as well as you do."

"Don't sell yourself short, Dante. A nice, deep red would be a good fit. We'll call it Dante's Inferno…"

"Pretty sure that's copyrighted," I point out, but he ignores me.

"… and then the next time you punch someone, the blood wouldn't even stain."

"Valid point, except I don't plan on making people bleed on the regular."

"That's a pity," he muses, glancing at me with those captivating eyes that render me senseless. "It was awfully sexy watching you protect me."

To give myself something to do, I walk over to his cabinets and grab plates as he pops open the lid on the pizza box. "Hawaiian! My favorite." His eyes narrow suspiciously as he looks at me, his hand on his chin. "Don't you hate pineapple on pizza?"

"Yes," I admit, dropping to kiss the top of his head. "But out of the list of crazy things I'm willing to do for you, picking off a few chunks of pineapple is not a big deal."

"It's a big deal to me," he whispers, so quiet I strain to hear. When I look down at him, he pushes up on his toes and kisses me before I realize what he's doing. His lips meet mine, and fireworks explode across my body as my arms instinctually find their way around his waist. The sweetest little happy hum escapes his throat as he pulls my bottom lip between his, giving it the gentlest suck as I lose my damn mind.

Then, just as quickly, he drops back onto flat feet and grabs a slice, leaving me dumbfounded and staring as he walks over to the couch like his world didn't just implode.

As my body buzzes with electricity from the brief touch of his lips, I try to make a joke to cover up how much I'm affected. "What memory were you erasing with that one?"

There's a sweet smile on his face as he turns and glances at me over his shoulder. "The one you're forming right now—the torture of having to eat my pineapple pizza."

"Working efficiently, I see," I say, trying and failing to smother my grin as I grab a slice and follow him to the couch. I let my eyes drift across his lean body again as he sits cross-legged, paying attention to his food as he eats. "Did you decide against the Sailor Moon outfit?"

His splitting grin lights up the entire fucking room as he beams at me. "I thought it might distract you."

"Oh, it would definitely distract me," I mutter, only making him smile wider.

"It'll just have to stay on my Fucket List for later."

I'm doing a shitty job of controlling my laughter as I try to hold it in. "Your… Fucket List?"

"Yeah, duh. It's a Bucket List, but, y'know… for sex."

"And there are, uh, other things on this Fucket List?" That's a perfectly reasonable question to ask a… friend.

His lips twitch as he lifts his slice of pizza back towards his mouth. "So many things," he says in an exceptionally breathy whisper. "Sweet things! Sexy things!" Somehow, he keeps a straight face as he leans in close. "Straaaange things."

Both of us burst out laughing, and Theo laughs even harder when I accidentally snort. We continue to chat as we eat, falling back into the relaxed, easy-going relationship we have always shared. Theo is the only person I have let my guard down around in years… the only one I trust to glimpse past the walls I've built up to protect myself.

Once we're finished eating, he collects our plates and clinks them into the sink before returning to the couch. He stretches out, showing more of that pale skin as he lies the back of his head onto my thigh. "So, what's the story behind the fighting?"

I hesitate for a moment, combing my fingers through his hair as I gather my thoughts. "Before you and I met, I was in a long-term relationship with a man. Trent. He was a few years older than me, and when we were introduced, I was still figuring out who I was, you know? At that point, I hadn't even put a label on my sexuality."

I steal a glance at Theo, but he's watching me intently, giving me a sweet smile when our eyes meet. "Earlier in my life, I only had relationships with women, I think just because social norms pushed me that way. And while there was attraction, they didn't stick. Something was always just a little… off."

"Once I realized my inclination towards men, I assumed I was bisexual, but it still didn't feel right. While my peers were dating, having one-night stands or experimenting, none of it ever appealed to me. It was like I never belonged. It was at that point that Trent and I met, and we spent a lot of time together, platonically. He was a good friend, and eventually… more. He helped me realize I identify as demisexual, and suddenly everything made more sense."

"Casual relationships never appealed to me; the attraction only ever came after I considered someone a friend. The label made sense… made me feel seen. Everything clicked into place, and I could finally let go of that feeling that there was something wrong with me."

"There's nothing wrong with you," Theo whispers from my lap, and I smile down at him as I continue to run my fingers through his hair.

"Trent made me believe he was absolute perfection. He knew exactly what to do, what to say. He was so patient, allowing me to adapt to my newfound sexuality and to figure out what I wanted. Never rushed me, and eventually, he posed the question if I was ready for a relationship."

My cheeks flush as I glance away, stumbling with my words. "My… experience… was limited. I'd been with some women when I was younger, and… and fooled around with a couple of guys, back when I couldn't figure out why it all felt so wrong to me. And I let that lack of experience, that… that lack of confidence blind me. Didn't see what was happening until it was too late."

There's a moment of silence as I close my eyes, reliving the years I spent with Trent. Theo's weight shifts, and I open my eyes to find us face to face, his concern obvious. "I've never shared this complete story with anyone," I admit.

His soft hands land on my face and his fingers dance across my skin as he gives me the world's sweetest smile. "You don't have to tell me anything you aren't comfortable sharing."

With a shake of my head, I try to return his smile. "After what happened with Jesse, you deserve to hear my history... to know you aren't alone. It's important, Theo, even if it's hard. I need you to understand why I am the way I am… why I'm…"

"Perfect?" he whispers, causing my heart to leap with his proximity.

"Broken." I swallow roughly, closing my eyes as I lean into his touch. He curls into my chest and continues to pet me until I work up the nerve to speak again.

"We took our time with the physical side of our relationship, but once it started, he was the one calling the shots. Always in control. Since I had no idea what I was doing, I just… went along with it. There was no choice, no discussion about my role or preferences. It was understood—he would always be on top."

My chest rises in a deep breath as I fight through the humiliation, knowing that Theo deserves to hear my story. "He wasn't concerned with making it good for me," I finally say, voice weak. "There was no prep, barely any lube… I think his goal was to make it hurt. I'd never bottomed before… didn't know what to expect. The first time we had sex, I bled for two days afterwards."

Theo tenses against me, his fingers digging into my chest, but he doesn't speak. "I knew it felt wrong—of course I did. But I did nothing… just accepted it. It didn't matter if I was uncomfortable or if I was in pain. He took what he wanted from me, then praised me after, like I was the most amazing person he'd ever met."

"Then the insults started. Little ones at first, insignificant comments about how I'd done something wrong or how I didn't look great that day. Not enough to even raise any sort of warning in my head. But over time, it got worse. He spent the entire day insulting me until I craved his praise— needed it—and I endured the pain in silence just to hear it. To hear that I was something… anything. "

Tears well that I fight to push away. "It was so fucking pitiful… I was fucking pitiful."

Theo sits up again, eyes heavy as he sees the emotion in mine. "There is not one single thing that's pitiful about you, Dante. None of his abuse or manipulation is a reflection of you."

I offer him a weak smile, my eyes filled with unshed tears, as I nod. "Most of the time, I recognize that. I do. But sometimes…" I trail off, and he leans forward and drops one more kiss on my lips that I melt into. His lips are insistent this time, just the slightest brush of the tip of his tongue against mine. My stomach swoops low in my belly, longing and want pooling in my gut that make me lose all reason.

When he pulls away and cuddles back into my chest, my heart is thrashing behind my ribcage, desperate for more. Knowing exactly what it wants, and knowing it can't have it. "You're going to kill me with those, you know."

"Just saw a chance to erase another bad memory," he whispers, and I tug him to me while we sit in silence for a few minutes until I finally continue.

"Things progressed until one day, he moved from shouting and screaming to laying hands on me. The first time he slapped me, we had been dating for over a year. I can't remember what made him so angry, only the shock of realizing he had actually struck me."

"I wish I could say that I had a moment of clarity and walked away, but that's not what happened. For almost another year, I stayed. The slaps turned into punches, and sex became an opportunity to take his aggression out on me further. He…" I pause and try to swallow past the lump in my throat, swiping at the tear that threatens to escape. "He left his mark on me, branding me with cigarette burns in… intimate spots, so anyone who saw me afterwards would know I was damaged."

"Dante," Theo whispers, horrified, and I glance down to find tears in his eyes to match mine.

"One day, I woke up and realized I had nothing to lose anymore. I didn't even have music anymore, because he'd managed to even drain that out of my life. There was a gym I passed on my way to work. When I showed up at the door with a black eye and swollen lip, the owner saw what was happening. He taught me to fight, how to protect myself. I didn't leave Trent right away. I waited until I was strong enough, so for a few more months I put up with it. The insults, the bruises, the painful sex."

"Jugs—the owner of the gym—mended my wounds and gave me pep talks every goddamned day. Even offered to let me move in with him to protect me, but I had to do it myself. I needed to have the power to walk away on my own two feet. Then one afternoon, Trent swung at me, and I'd had enough. Something inside me snapped. I caught his fist in my hand, and I'll never forget his shock when I retaliated and knocked him to the ground."

Another rough swallow works my throat. "Every time he got up, I'd knock him right back to the floor. Over and over, I punched him until his face was bloody and swollen. I snapped, Theo... completely lost control. And after I'd beat him so badly he couldn't get off the floor, I packed my bags to the sounds of him moaning and crying on the floor, still telling me I'd never do any better than him."

"I took my stuff, changed my number, and found an apartment all in that same day. Slept on an air mattress for weeks until I could get furniture for myself, but I was finally fucking free. I could breathe again. Eric moved in next door to me a few months later, and the rest… well, the rest, you know."