Chapter Thirty

Intense Pain (5 Letters)

Seb

"I'd definitely be the Final Girl if I was a character in a slasher movie," Larkin declared as we sat on the couch later that night, watching a horror movie he'd picked.

Well, we weren't exactly just sitting. I was sprawled out across the length of the couch, and Larkin was nestled between my legs, relaxing back against my chest. My arms were around him. He was playing absently with my fingers while we watched.

Nothing about this said fuckletics instructor and student. Or even friends who casually fucked.

I had to keep shoving down the fragile hope that started to blossom every time I absently pressed a kiss to his head, or he threaded our fingers together, or rubbed his socked foot against my leg. I was trying to think rationally. All of this—the sex, the intimacy—was new to him. Exciting. Probably a bit addictive. And he had to feel uniquely close to me in some ways after everything we'd done together.

Larkin was inexperienced compared to me. He'd made himself so vulnerable with me. I couldn't be the possessive creep who started trying to manipulate him into a relationship just because he was being affectionate. He'd been upfront with me since the beginning about what this was. And he was so guileless and trusting. I'd feel like complete shit if I coerced him into something he didn't want, just because it was what I wanted.

But that didn't stop me from taking every moment like this that I could get. I just had to keep reminding myself that it already had an end date. This wasn't permanent.

"Oh yeah?" I managed a little chuckle. "Why're you so sure?"

"Well, the Final Girl is usually a virgin, right? I mean, I guess I'm not a virgin anymore, and that whole thing is such bullshit anyway. Like, she gets to live because she's " purer " than all the others? That's problematic as shit."

"Yeah."

"But I just don't think I'd let myself get caught. I'm too wily, bro." He tilted his head up to grin at me.

I grinned back. "What about me?"

"You'd def be the jock, so you'd die saving some of the others. Sorry," he teased.

I laughed and gave his chest a soothing rub. "I wouldn't mind sacrificing myself for you, so that's fine."

Larkin went still, his expression hidden as he stared at the TV, before he suddenly lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it.

"If we were in a slasher, I'd find a way for the jock to be saved." His voice was a little hoarse. He cleared his throat and added, "Taylor would be the geek who figures everything out but gets killed before he can tell the rest of us. Holt would be the overconfident d-bag who either doesn't believe there's really a killer, or he strolls right out to take them on. Either way, his death would be the most dramatic and gruesome."

I chuckled. "That sounds about right."

"And my buddy Hans would be the party boy who's too wasted to even realise he's being hunted down at first. Like, he'd think the killer was one of the others messing with him and not even try to escape. Don't get me wrong, I love him and all, but he isn't exactly a quick thinker."

I pressed my lips to his hair, an affectionate smile tilting my mouth. "You can make him sound like a hero when you tell your story to the world," I said solemnly. "As the Final Girl."

"Yeah, but I already said I'd find a way to save the jock, so you'd be there too, and you wouldn't lie. You'd just all calmly be like, ‘He was an idiot.'"

I grinned. This conversation was silly, but I loved it. "That's probably true. Although I wouldn't want to speak ill of the dead."

Larkin waved a hand. "This is a unique situation. It's our duty to share the truth and try to save the next group of unwitting youths who go and party in a remote cabin in the woods. And in the sequel, we'd be the couple who realise the killer is back but no one believes us."

My chest pinched a little, but I managed a laugh. "So it'd be our job to take him out for good?"

He grinned up at me again. "Uh-huh. And we'd think we did it, but he wouldn't actually be dead. So that there can be a third movie."

"This is turning into quite a franchise," I deadpanned. "I'm pretty sure Holt would demand to somehow rise from the dead so he could be in the sequels."

Larkin gurgled with laughter. "For sure."

The credits were rolling now, and I'd completely missed the end of the movie, but I didn't care. Larkin yawned and stretched languidly against me, one of his arms flopping back behind my head. I tried not to groan when I felt his long fingers sifting through my hair.

"Did you like it?" he asked hopefully, shifting his head on my chest to peer up at me.

I nodded. Slasher movies would never be my first choice, but I'd enjoyed watching it with him. "Yeah."

"You can pick next time." He scrambled around to straddle my lap, draping his arms around my neck with a grin. "I bet you'll pick some eighties action movie with a giant beefcake lead. Or several."

"I can't tell if that's a jab at my age or my propensity for working out." I slipped my fingers under his sweatshirt to feel his warm skin. "But no, I'd probably pick a sci-fi."

"Sci-fi movies can still have beefcake leads," he pointed out. "Sci-fi fans need eye candy like everyone else."

"It sounds like you just want me to pick something with a beefcake as the lead," I noted dryly.

"I don't need to watch a beefcake on screen," he told me innocently. "I have one right here. And you're way hotter."

I managed to suppress my smirk. "Am I?"

"Um, yes , dude. You're, like, the hottest." His cheeks flushed, and he ducked down to bury his face in my neck as if he was trying to hide it. I heard him mumble, "You're, like… really, really handsome, Seb."

I swallowed, staring up at the ceiling. I didn't know what was happening anymore. It almost felt like I was on some fucked-up prank show where I was being given everything I desperately wanted, only for Larkin to one day laugh in my face and ask how the fuck I could've actually fallen for any of it.

I didn't think this whole arrangement, situation, whatever it was now, was good for me. But I couldn't bring myself to put an end to it.

"Want to watch something else?" My voice came out a little hoarse, so I cleared my throat. "Or, uh…"

Larkin lifted his head to give me a shy smile, but his gaze was a little uncertain. I realised with a jolt that I'd completely brushed past the compliment he'd given me, not even acknowledging it or giving him one back. Guilt pinched at my chest, but he was already answering.

"We should probably go to bed. Tuesdays are when Holt's the most stressy because the wrestlers get all opinionated about his match choices for the week."

I nodded quickly and patted his side to indicate that I wanted to get up. I didn't want to talk about work right now. Specifically the wrestlers. Bitterness burned in my chest as Larkin quickly shifted off me and watched as I stood and turned off the TV.

"Are you okay?" he asked anxiously.

The uncertain edge in his voice made my heart crack a little. I couldn't be an asshole to him. It wasn't fair. I'd already ignored the sweet thing he'd said to me, which was probably making him feel insecure. My jaw clenched. That was such a dickish thing for me to do. He wasn't used to saying stuff like that to people—having the confidence for it. And I was supposed to be helping him gain that confidence. That was literally what he'd asked me to do.

Plastering a smile on my face, I turned to look at him. "I'm great. Just getting tired, I think."

When I held out a hand to help him up, he hesitantly grinned back and curled his fingers around mine. He didn't let go once he was standing. Neither did I.

Clearing my throat, I asked, "Do you want anything before bed?"

"No, I'm okay, thanks." He smiled up at me sweetly, rearranging our hands to thread his fingers through mine. My heart cracked open a little wider.

This wasn't good for me.

The lines were getting too blurred. I'd been able to cope when we had our lessons, then we'd hung out separately as friends, and nothing intimate or sexual had crossed that boundary. But this was… I didn't know what the fuck this was now. This was like we were an actual couple, except we weren't.

It was getting too hard to pretend that this didn't mean everything to me. Larkin wasn't acting like these were just lessons anymore, and I wasn't capable of keeping him at an acceptable distance, even though I knew it would be for the best.

Wordlessly, I led him toward the stairs and picked up his bag for him, then reluctantly let go of his hand to lock up and turn off the lights in the kitchen. The moment I joined him at the foot of the staircase, he twined his fingers through mine again. I loosed a silent, shaky breath as he led me up the stairs.

"You can't laugh at my PJs, dude," he was saying light-heartedly. "My mom made them."

My mouth curved up into a tiny, fond smile. "Are they like your T-shirt at the diner?"

"You mean tie-dye and with flowers embroidered on them? Yeah."

I started to chuckle, but it died in my throat when we reached the top of the stairs and he pulled me directly toward my bedroom, as if it was a given that we'd be sleeping together. I'd actually planned on offering him the guest room, figuring it was less pressure for him and better mentally for me to maintain that barrier—even though I'd been the one to ask him if he wanted to stay over—but I stayed silent. If he wanted to sleep with me, I was incapable of refusing him, or myself.

Larkin grinned at me after flicking on the bedside lamp, then pulled off his sweatshirt. "What side do you sleep on?"

God, this was like torture. This was everything I wanted, and it wasn't even real.

"Right," I croaked, passing him his bag.

His eyes brightened. "No shit? I sleep on the left. Guess we won't be fighting over it."

I managed a wan smile, watching as he tugged down his jeans and peeled off his socks. His gaze flickered to me with a nervous smile as he fiddled with the waistband of his boxer briefs, so I turned away to give him some privacy. Getting naked in front of someone outside of a sexual situation could feel vulnerable, and the last thing I wanted was to make him uncomfortable.

"What, um, do you usually sleep in?" he asked. "Remember you can't laugh at my PJs."

Figuring that meant he had them on, I looked back and felt my insides melt. He was wearing a gigantic T-shirt that swamped his lanky frame, with a big, lopsided daisy embroidered on the front. His pants had tiny clovers on them. He looked so fucking cute that I wanted to tackle him to the bed and burrow under the covers with him.

"I… uh… Nothing," I answered absently, fighting the urge to snatch him up into my arms.

His eyes flared, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his gaze flittered over my frame. "Noice. Um… well, don't let me stop you."

After a pause, I huffed in amusement and shot him a wry smile. He grinned back, fiddling with the hem of his big T-shirt, then reached into his bag and pulled out a toothbrush. "Can I go brush my teeth?"

"Of course." I nodded at the door behind him. "En suite's there."

"Thanks." He hesitated for a second, then turned and disappeared into the bathroom. I heard the water running a few seconds later, followed by the sound of him scrubbing his teeth and humming quietly to himself.

Shoulders slumping, I sank onto the edge of the bed and scrubbed at my face. This was going to irreparably damage me in some way, I already knew it. This was too much. I didn't know what was happening anymore, but I was too scared to ask him and too weak to put a stop to it myself.

I stood up quickly when I heard the door opening, giving him an easy smile as I crossed paths with him to use the bathroom myself. "Back in a sec."

"'Kay."

I refused to acknowledge his toothbrush next to mine in the holder on the edge of the basin. I scrubbed my teeth aggressively fast, took a leak and stepped back out to find him sitting up in bed, scrolling on his phone. My throat closed up. I wanted this so much it hurt. I wanted it every night. Getting ready for bed with him, seeing him in his cute pyjamas, going through our usual routine, completely at ease with each other.

As I made my way toward the bed, Larkin looked up and smiled at me. "Just setting my alarms. Are you going to the gym in the morning?"

"No," I said quickly, making a note to text Ludo in the morning and let him know. "Rest day."

"Oh, cool." He looked pleased about that. "I bet you only need one alarm, huh? Or you just wake up when the sun rises. I need to set about twenty."

I chuckled, hesitating for a moment before stripping off my shorts. I heard Larkin's breath catch, and it was gratifying to know I could still garner that reaction from him when he'd seen me naked several times already by now.

You're really, really handsome.

It was still grating on me that I'd ignored the sweet compliment he'd given me. He hadn't had to say that. He'd been trying to be nice. But I didn't know how to bring it up now without it seeming weird, or like I was just fishing for him to say it again like some arrogant jackass.

I got into bed beside him, and Larkin quickly reached over and turned off the lamp, plunging us into darkness. As I got settled on my back, I sensed him turn onto his side so he was facing me and curl up his coltish limbs. God, I wanted to wrap myself around him while he slept like that—all sweet and scrunched up.

"Night, Seb," he said softly.

I let out a silent breath, staring up at the dark ceiling. "Goodnight, Lark."

We fell silent. We weren't touching, but I could feel the warmth of him beside me. I could smell his sweet caramel scent. Something like muted panic tightened my chest as I lay there. It felt like I was missing my chance to do something, but I didn't know what.

"Lark?" I whispered, in case he was already dozing off.

But he answered immediately. "Yeah?"

Swallowing, I turned onto my side and slid my hand across the mattress to brush my fingers against his, which were lightly curled under his chin. He threaded them through mine straight away, like he'd just been waiting for me to touch him.

My eyes burned a little, but I forced myself to speak.

"You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen," I said quietly, wanting to return the compliment he'd given me earlier, meaning it with every fibre of my being. "I've always thought so. Ever since I met you."

That was definitely revealing too much—far, far too much—but I'd said it now. And I wanted him to know. I'd never thought Larkin was truly cocky or self-centred, but he gave off an air of being far more confident than he really was. I'd seen his insecurities now though. I'd seen the things that had held him back, and they just made him even more beautiful to me. So I wanted him to know.

His fingers had tightened on mine. I heard him swallow thickly, before he whispered, "Really?"

"Yes." Gently squeezing his hand, I ignored the ache in my chest and added, "Whoever you end up with—whether it's just for one night or… longer—they're incredibly lucky to have that privilege. I don't just mean because of your looks, but because you're… an amazing person." It felt easier to admit this in the dark—like it didn't really count. Like I wasn't subtly baring my soul to him. "You're sweet and funny and kind and… just a beautiful person. All of you. Don't ever doubt that."

He didn't answer, but after a few seconds he shuffled closer and buried himself against my chest. His face tucked into the hollow of my throat as he clung to my back, his lashes fluttering against my skin as he blinked rapidly. I pressed my lips to the top of his head, feeling for a split second like I was about to cry as the back of my throat ached.

I love you. I couldn't say it out loud, so I just whispered it to him in my head.