Archive of Our Own

David noticed the absence before he noticed anything else.

It was in the way Exer's fingers no longer brushed against his on the car rides to school; how Exer's arm didn't sling over his shoulders, like David was something precious he couldn't help but touch. The lack of those quick, grinning kisses pressed to his temple when no one was looking—kisses that used to make David's stomach flip even after months of dating.

For six days, seventeen hours, and—David checked his watch with a frown—twenty-nine minutes, Exer had been pulling away.

"Earth to David." Brenda's voice snapped him back to reality. The diner booth's vinyl squeaked under him as he shifted, his strawberry milkshake long since melted into pink sludge. "You've been staring off for a while. Everything alright?"

Across from him, Exer laughed, but it was that new, careful laugh—the one that didn't crinkle his eyes the way it used to. Hadn't for days.

"I'm fine," David lied, swirling his straw. The condensation on the glass had made a wet ring on the table. He wiped at it with his sleeve.

Exer's knee bumped his under the table—just for a second, fleeting—before he seemed to catch himself and pulled back like he'd been burned. 

While they’d both been careful about what they did in public, holding a hand under the table or brushing their knees against each other hadn’t seemed to be that much of a cautionary thing to stray from. Was Exer afraid they’d get caught, even with Brenda here? Did it have something to do with Exer’s magic he didn’t want David to find out about?

Was it something David had done?

The question had been eating at him since Monday, when Exer had started this... whatever this was. This distance. David replayed every interaction from the past week, searching for the moment he'd messed up. Had he said something stupid? Had Exer finally realized David wasn't—

"Hello? Zombie apocalypse in David's brain," Brenda said, snapping her fingers in front of his face. "You're being weird. Weirder than usual…Are you sure everything’s alright?” Her face scrunched as she analyzed him. David smirked and waved her off playfully.

Exer suddenly stood up from his seat. He glanced down at them and made his way out of the booth. "I have something I need to check in my car. Be right back."

David watched him weave through the diner, one hand fidgeting at his side, the other raked through his curls—a nervous habit. David knew all his tells. Knew the way Exer chewed his lip when he was thinking too hard, the way his knee bounced when he was anxious. Knew the exact shade of brown his eyes turned in sunlight, like honey spilled over oak…

Enough .

“You’ve hardly touched your milkshake y’know?” Brenda glanced back at David with a hint of worry in her eyes. David hated feeling coddled, especially by the people he loved. It made him feel like he was just another mess, another problem for someone else to carry on their shoulders and fix. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Fine, yeah,” David said, gnawing on the plastic straw, his eyes still subconsciously placed on Exer as he walked out of the diner.

David stabbed at his milkshake with the straw. Across the table, Brenda studied him with narrowed eyes.

"Okay, what's with you two?"

David feigned ignorance. "What do you mean?"

"Don't 'what do you mean' me." She stole a fry from his plate. "You're moping, Exer's jumpier than a cat in a room full of lasers, and you both keep doing that weird eye-contact-avoidance thing." She waved her fry between them. "Did you fight or something?"

David's chest ached. That would almost be easier—if they'd fought, if there was something concrete to fix. But this? This unspoken silence? This slow unraveling of all their casual touches, quiet moments, and lingering glances? He didn't know how to fight over unmentioned reflexes.

"We're fine," he said, because what else was there to say?

Brenda yanked the large cup away from him. David startled. “Tell me. You’ve never kept something like this from me. If it’s got something to do with you, David, I want to help. I’m right here for you just like you are for me, so don’t think I’m asking about this because I believe in charity work.” She winked in his direction, drawing out a sigh from David. She was a magic woman in the way she pulled information from people’s lips. Like some sort of wizard, David would call her.

“As I said,” David eyed her the same way she did for him, “It’s nothing. Drop it! I’m probably just tired or something.” Coddling wouldn’t win today.

[FLASHBACK - SEVEN DAYS EARLIER]

The locker room was empty after their PE group's basketball session, the squeak of sneakers still echoing in David's ears. He tugged at the neckline of his jersey, the damp fabric sticking uncomfortably to his skin as he debated whether to change.

"Wow. Rude."

David spun to find Exer leaning against the lockers, a smirk playing on his lips that spread to his dimples. "What?" David asked, suddenly hyper-aware of his own bare arms.

"Just... y’know." Exer's gaze flickered over David's shoulders before darting away, his ears turning pink even as he kept up the teasing tone. "Changing in front of me without even sparing me a glance. Rude and shameless."

David rolled his eyes but felt heat creeping up his neck at the tone of his voice, a smile creeping onto his lips without invitation. "It's a locker room, dummy. What were you expecting?"

Exer pushed off the lockers and stepped closer, close enough that David could see the sweat still drying at his temples. "Still," Exer murmured, his breath warm against David's cheek, "not everyone can handle this view."

David's stomach did a funny flip. "You're ridiculous."

David's breath caught as Exer's nose traced the line of his jaw, both of them trembling slightly despite the warmth of the locker room. When Exer's thumb accidentally brushed bare skin where David's shirt had ridden up, they both froze.

"Someone could—" David started, acutely aware of how loud his heartbeat sounded in his own ears. He knew that nobody would enter, they’d all already gone off. Hell, before he even started changing he’d checked the locker room three times just to be sure. No embarrassments or bullies flying from a corner he couldn’t see.

 Yet his paranoia had gotten the best of him. Again.

Exer pulled back just enough to meet David's eyes, his own wide and dark. For a suspended moment, they just stared at each other, the air between them crackling with something terrifying and exhilarating.

Then Exer swallowed hard and stepped back, running a shaky hand through his hair. It was as if something in his mind came apart under David’s paranoia. "Yeah. You're... you should probably finish changing."

David nodded mutely, his skin still buzzing where Exer had touched him. 

Neither of them mentioned the way their fingers lingered when passing David's shirt back, or how Exer's gaze kept dropping to David's mouth. Some things didn't need words. 

And yet…

The lingering feeling was exhilarating. David had never seen Exer become that openly needy toward him, at least, not while they’d been dating. The rush he’d felt had been the most intense he’d experienced. The heat that burned into his eyes when Exer so much as glanced his way in that brief moment; the electrifying shock that passed through his nerves like water. 

As he turned back to his locker, he caught Exer's reflection in the mirror - the way his fists clenched at his sides, the rapid rise and fall of his chest. The knowledge that Exer was just as affected made David's knees feel weak.

“I’m sorry if that was too far,” Exer said suddenly, his voice breaking the tension in the room like ice. “I should’ve asked. And besides, we’re in public. Someone could’ve seen and we could’ve—“ his breath hitched. “I’m sorry.”

David didn’t tell him that he’d triple checked the room beforehand. With Exer’s face looking so bleak, he didn’t think anything he’d say could snap him out of his current state of mind. He felt awful. “It’s fine. I mean, it’s not like we were going to do anything, right?”

Exer whirred around to face David, brushing David’s mention aside quickly. “No no, of course not! Besides we…” he pauses, taking a long breath in, “We haven’t even gotten that far yet. It’s not like anything should happen here first, of all places.”

“Yeah,” David agreed. Yet, he didn’t. The feeling of being held so close made his heart ache with an insurmountable amount of joy. He yearned to feel the rush of adrenaline that burst into his veins as they collided, the sheer intensity of eyes burning into eyes. But all he could muster out was, “Not yet.”

Exer nodded, a small, sad smile forming on his face. “Noted. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Mmm.”

They left it at that.

[PRESENT]

Now, Exer wouldn't even look at him for more than three seconds at a time.

Brenda gave him a look that said she didn't believe him for a second.

But before she could say anything else, Exer returned, sliding back into the booth. His hands clattered onto the table. "Sorry, it’s there. Class project stuff I’m responsible for tonight. Just making sure everything’s still good."

David nodded, staring at his milkshake across from him so he wouldn't stare at the way Exer's fingers tapped an uneven, silent rhythm against the table. So he wouldn't notice how Exer sat just a little too far away, how their shoulders didn't brush like they used to.

The silence stretched, taut and suffocating.

Brenda sighed dramatically. "Well, this is depressing. I'm getting pie." She slid out of the booth along with sliding David’s cup back to him, leaving them alone. David had a hinted suspicion that she wasn’t coming back. 

Out of all times, he wished twin telepathy worked so he could make her come back and save him from this awkward nightmare.

David counted the seconds. One. Two. Three.

Exer cleared his throat. "So. Uh. Game on Friday?"

"Yeah." David's fingers tightened around his straw. "Should be good."

"Cool."

Silence again.

David couldn't take it anymore.

The silence wafted between the two like a restless maniac, but neither of them wanted to address it. David couldn’t pin point whether it was his own fears cautioning him away from addressing them or his own overthinking preventing him from recognizing it. 

Outside, dark clouds had begun to form overhead. Even the weather had seemed to want to despair the tension.

Exer directed his attention away from David’s melted milkshake and outside to look at the forming, huddled darkness in the sky. “Looks like it’s about to rain,” he said, his hand running through his hair, “I should get going soon before the car gets–”

“I’ll come with you,” David said, standing up from his seat. His eyes were still focused on the crumpled-up straw. “I’m done, anyway.”

“Great!” Exer said, but David didn’t sound convinced. His hand still fidgeted with his fingers as they left, saying goodbye to Brenda and paying the check up front. Neither of them spoke a word to each other the whole time except for “thanks” and “no problem.” 

David hadn’t the faintest clue on why he followed Exer out. With every passing breath he felt like he was going to explode. 

Exer eyed him cautiously, almost as if he were afraid David may say or do something he wasn’t ready for.

But David didn’t.

They both walked mindlessly to the car and strapped in their seatbelts. The car smelled like Exer, the faint hits of his cologne and the smell of citrus. David was both pleased and hurt by the warmth he felt slowly creeping into his skin as the scent settled itself into his veins. 

He felt like he was going crazy.

—

The first raindrop hit the windshield just as Exer turned the key in the ignition. A single, fat splatter right in the center of the glass—like the universe itself had sighed between them.

David watched it spread, blurring his view of the diner's neon sign. He should say something. He wanted to say something. But the words stuck in his throat like gum under a school desk—awkward and impossible to ignore.

Exer's fingers drummed an uneven rhythm against the steering wheel. Three taps. Pause. Two taps. Pause. David knew that rhythm—knew it meant Exer was chewing the inside of his cheek, knew it meant he had something to say and wasn't saying it.

The engine sputtered to life.

"You, uh..." Exer's voice cracked. He cleared his throat, gripping the wheel tighter. "You good?"

No . "Yeah."

The lie hung between them, swollen and obvious. The windshield wipers groaned to life, dragging across the glass with a sound like sandpaper. Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.

David counted them.

One. Two. Three.

Four.

Outside, the world blurred—streetlights smearing into golden streaks, sidewalks darkening with rain. David traced a finger down the fog gathering on the mirror, drawing a shaky line before wiping it away.

Exer shifted in his seat. His knee bounced.

David could feel the words building in the air between them, thick as the humidity clinging to the car windows. He chanced a glance—just a quick one—and caught the way Exer's jaw worked, the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed. All he wanted was to wrap his hands around it and just–

The radio hissed static. Neither of them moved to fix it.

"You can stay over."

Exer's voice was so quiet David almost thought he imagined it. Almost.

"If you want," Exer added quickly, eyes fixed straight ahead. "It's pouring. And my dad's working late so. You know."

David's heart thudded against his ribs. He should say no. Should go home. Should stop pretending this gulf between them wasn't tearing him apart stitch by stitch.

But then lightning flashed—bright and sudden—and in that split second, David saw it: the way Exer's fingers trembled on the wheel. The way his throat moved like he was swallowing back something bigger than words.

The way he looked, just for that instant, like he was eight and scared and so, so tired of pretending he wasn't.

David's chest ached.

"...Okay," he whispered.

Exer's breath left him in one long shudder. "Okay."

The car rolled forward. The rain came down harder.

I'm a fucking idiot

—

The rain hadn’t let up by the time Exer pulled into the driveway. If anything, it had gotten worse—hammering against the roof of the car like it was trying to get in.

David unbuckled his seatbelt too fast, the metallic click unnaturally loud in the silence. Exer’s hands still hadn’t left the steering wheel, his fingers flexing once, twice, like he was deciding whether to let go.

Neither of them moved.

"Shit."

Exer lunged for the door just as thunder cracked overhead. David followed, their sneakers hitting the pavement in unison, the rain soaking through their shirts before they’d even made it halfway up the walkway.

The front door stuck. Of course it did.

Exer wrestled with the key, shoulder pressed against the wood as water streamed from his hair onto the welcome mat—the stupid one David had bought him as a joke last Christmas. ("Nice to see me, isn’t it?") It felt like a lifetime ago.

When the door finally gave, they stumbled into the dark house, dripping onto the hardwood. Exer flicked the light switch. Nothing.

"Power’s out," he muttered, shaking water from his curls like a dog.

David wiped his face. "Fantastic."

Silence.

Then Exer’s breath hitched—just slightly—as he took in David standing there in the dim streetlight bleeding through the windows: shirt plastered to his chest, hair dripping into his eyes, arms crossed tight over his ribs like he was holding himself together.

"You’re shivering," Exer said, voice rough.

David’s gaze dropped to where Exer’s white t-shirt had gone translucent. "You’re dripping."

A beat. Then Exer huffed something that wasn’t quite a laugh. David’s mouth twitched despite himself.

The moment of near-levity dissolved as quickly as it came. Exer’s jaw tightened again. "You didn’t have to come."

David’s stomach dropped. "You didn’t have to invite me."

The words hung between them, sharp and dangerous.

Lightning flashed, illuminating the way Exer’s throat worked when he swallowed, the way his hands clenched at his sides like he was stopping himself from reaching out.

This wasn’t working. They weren’t working. Not like this, not standing in the dark, not with all the things they weren’t saying choking the air between them.

David took a step forward.

Exer didn’t move.

"Ex," David said, voice low.

A beat. Then—

"We should go to your room," David said. He knew it wasn’t a question.

Exer’s breath caught in his throat, his silhouette casting a light shadow across the living room. His eyes were pointed downward, taking off his coat and gesturing for David to do the same. 

David slipped off his coat, his eyes burning into the back of Exer’s head. Exer looked up to stare back at him, the first time he had in the past couple of days.

David felt sort of relieved, but his relief was drowned out by the hammers of his anxiety, the bubbling feeling that slowly settled in his stomach that wanted to shout at Exer, yell about how awful it felt to even be near him. Just the thought of this makeshift reality scared him to bits. 

“Take your time,” Exer said, “I’ll meet you up there.”

Exer’s footsteps faded down the hall toward the bathroom, leaving David alone at the base of the stairs. The house groaned around him—old pipes settling, rain lashing against the siding—as he gripped the banister.

"Take your time," Exer had said.

Like David wasn’t already drowning in it.

The first step creaked under his weight. Then the second. Each one louder than the last, as if the house itself was announcing his cowardice. Water dripped from his hair onto the worn wood, each drop a ticking clock.

His fingers trembled against the railing. Somewhere behind him, a faucet turned on. The sound of Exer rummaging for towels. Normal things. Domestic things. Things David shouldn’t have been so carelessly worried over.

David’s breath hitched as he reached the landing. The hallway stretched dark toward Exer’s bedroom, the door slightly ajar. 

One step. Then another.

A floorboard squeaked.

From the bathroom, the water shut off. Silence pooled thicker than the shadows.

He could still turn back. Could still say he forgot something in the car. Could still—

"David?"

Exer’s voice, closer than expected. Right at the foot of the stairs now.

David didn’t answer. Couldn’t. The tears were coming now, hot and traitorous. He swiped at them angrily just as another drop fell from his hair—this time onto his wrist. It might’ve been rain. Might’ve been something else.

The bedroom door loomed.

He pushed it open.

—

The familiar scent hit him first—fabric softener and that cheap citrus cologne Exer swore didn't smell like cleaning products. The streetlight through rain-streaked windows painted stripes across the rumpled comforter they'd tangled themselves in just last weekend, back when Exer still touched him like it was breathing.

David stood frozen in the center of the room, rainwater pooling at his feet. The door clicked shut behind him.

Suddenly came the quiet creak of floorboards as Exer stepped inside. The soft thud of his soaked feet on carpet. The hitch in his breath when he saw David standing there in the striped light, shoulders hunched like he was bracing for impact.

The rain drummed against the window like it was trying to break in. Or maybe like David's heart was trying to break out.

Exer's voice came out rough, barely audible over the storm: "You're dripping."

David didn't turn around. "You're shivering."

A pause. Then the rustle of fabric as Exer peeled off his soaked shirt. The wet slap of it hitting the floor. He reached into his closet and immediately found a new, dry one to put on.

Exer didn’t toss a shirt to David, despite his habit of giving David his clothes to wear. David always liked wearing his clothes, and he was almost sure Exer liked seeing him in his clothes as well, maybe even more than David liked wearing them.

David's nails bit into his palms.

The mattress springs groaned as Exer sat on the edge of the bed. "David..."

That was all it took.

Suddenly, every boiling feeling that had sunk to the pit of his stomach gave rise as easily as a sharp sound ringing from the drop of heavy strings on a guitar.

David whirled around, eyes burning. "You've been treating me like a fucking stranger."

David's voice cracked. He hadn't meant to say it like that. Hadn't meant to say it at all. He hadn’t even known where that burst of anger had come from.

Exer looked up at him, vulnerable, rainwater still glistening on his collarbone his shirt couldn’t hide. His mouth opened. Closed.

Outside, lightning flashed.

Exer's hands flexed at his sides. "That's not—"

"Six days." David held up trembling fingers. "You haven't held my hand in six days. You flinch when I try to kiss you. What the hell am I supposed to think?" 

A pause flooded the room. David stared at the worn carpet fibers, tracing familiar patterns he’d memorized countless afternoons in this room. His throat tightened. “I keep wondering…did I do something? Say something wrong? Is what I did tearing us apart?”

Exer's face did something terrible then—crumpled like paper in fire. "No. God, no, David—"

"Then why?" The question tore out of him, ragged at the edges, raw and bleeding and so carelessly free. “Even now you won’t look at me.”

The clock on Exer's nightstand ticked. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Exer sank onto the edge of his bed, hands dangling between his knees. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't—" David's breath hitched. "Just tell me what I did wrong."

"Nothing! You didn't—" Exer's head snapped up. "God, David, you could never—"

"Never what?" David's voice broke. "Why are you acting like you can't stand me?"

Exer made a sound like he'd been punched.

The rain seemed to go quiet in that instant. David could hear it faintly, but all his senses had now been directed to the boy in front of him.

Exer’s fingers traced an invisible pattern on his knee. His breath hitched as tears began forming in his eyes. David felt awful but kept his ground. 

"You know about my mom?" 

David stilled. Exer never talked about her.

"She'd... she'd have these days,” Exer began, voice drifting like smoke, “where she'd hug me so tight it hurt." His fingers pressed in his palms. "I remember her, David. Even if I was young, I still remember. Her touch, her vanilla scent. Stuff I don’t want to admit I remember in front of Dad. It wasn’t always just us.” A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “In my dreams sometimes…sometimes she feels so close. Like if I reached just a little farther maybe, just maybe…” 

His fist clenched, his smile dissolving.

“Then there’s dreams where she couldn't even look at me. She looked right through me, as if I wasn’t there to begin with. Like she didn’t remember me.” His voice turned to ash. “I used to keep score. Good days versus bad. Thought if I was better–quieter, smarter, attentive–maybe she’d stay. If it hadn’t been for me, she’d still be here. It was only because I wasn’t good enough to keep her here. I was afraid I’d gone too far or hadn’t done enough to keep her content, and that was why she never came back, even in my own fucking dreams. ”

David's ribs suddenly ached. He yearned to reach out to him, but found that he was grounded in the same, muddled spot.

Exer laughed such a broken laugh. "And now look at me.” He spread his hands as if surrendering. "Doing the same damn thing to you because I’m–” His voice broke. “Because I want you so much it terrifies me. Because what if I go too far or don’t do enough and end up involuntarily hurting you because of my selfishness? What if you slowly turn away and I can’t–”

David was across the room before he could finish.

Their foreheads collided. Exer's breath came in ragged gasps against David's mouth as he felt a hint of wetness trail across his cheeks. But it wasn’t his own tears he felt.

“You’re not at fault for something out of your control, Exer,” David breathed.

Exer shook his head, their noses brushing. “You don’t know that. Not when it comes to selfishness”

“It’s not selfish.” David pressed closer until their chests aligned. “I don’t need you to become perfect for me or act on a whim because you don’t know how I’ll react. I already know you, Exer. I know the way your hands fidget when they’re nervous; I know the way others look at you because they admire your empathy, your wit; I know the way you let my betterment take hold of your own needs, but–.” David reached for his hands. “You shouldn’t let that be the case just so you can shield me from your own insecurities. I’m not going anywhere because of one little thing you do or say. Unless of course it’s murder.” 

David whispered, finding the words to continue for the next portion. "For 10 years, did you really think I wouldn’t feel the exact same way? All I’ve ever wanted was to have you here, with me, selfishly. I’ve been so afraid of going overboard with my own paranoia and need for you because that is just how badly I want you. Exer, I’ve been begging for the longest time to some unknown “god” that I’d be able to hold you like this, and you still think I wouldn’t fear just the same?”  David cupped Exer’s face in his palm and gave a soft chuckle when he saw the boy’s reaction to this information. “If anything, I feel I’m the one who’s always going too far and not knowing what you want or how to help you. I want you more than I think I’m willing to admit to myself and even still–”

He crashed his head into Exer’s shoulder, unable to speak the words to his face without getting flustered.

“No matter how flustered I am around you, or how much I want to slam my head against a wall because of you and your flirts–it still always turns out to be you. Nothing you say or do will change that. No anxiousness or internalized fear can get in the way of something like that.

 “Corny as it is, you are my everything, the unwavering spirit of my complexion for you. Always have been. I haven’t been able to give the thought of you up because of my own selfishness, my own want.” David smiled into his shoulder. “Me being hurt because I may not want–or love–you the same couldn’t be further from the truth. I’m not going anywhere, not for anything in the world.”

Exer made a wounded noise, his arms shakily slithering around David’s torso. David felt like he was going to explode. “How did I ever get this lucky?” Exer cried into David’s shoulder as David tightened his grip on his back. It was funny how easily the roles reversed in such little time. “I had no idea. I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry. I shouldn’t have bottled it away, not when it could hurt you. I’m sorry.”

“If you keep repeating that I’m afraid you’ll keep saying it for all eternity,” David softly laughed into his ear. “No more running away from me, not until you tell me about it first. Once you do, I’ll run wherever you go, even if it’s dark and cold and scary and there’s zombies everywhere. I love you so much that I’ll even go through all that!”

David could feel Exer shake in his shoulder. Not out of fear this time, but as if he was laughing. To David, it was one of the greatest feelings in the world.

Then suddenly, as if a spark burst in Exer’s body he flew his head upward, almost crashing into David’s while doing so. "Say it again," Exer begged. 

“Say what?” David stiffened, suddenly realizing what just flew out of his mouth. I love you. They’d never said that to each other, not out loud at least. He protested, the words muffled against Exer’s skin. “Exer, that was such a heartfelt moment. How could you pinpoint only that!?”

“You’re right,” Exer smirked, teasingly walking his fingers up David’s spine, “Don’t let me stop you from saying just now that you loved m–”

“Did not!” David jerked back, only to find Exer’s smirk flowing triumphantly in the dim light. The light contrasting on his jaw was mesmerizing.

“Oh, you so did!” Exer’s grip suddenly tightened, and before David could react, the world tilted–strong arms flipped them over until David’s back hit the mattress with a soft thump. The bed frame creaked in protest beneath their combined weight. 

Exer loomed above him, rain-damp curls falling into his eyes. David missed him more than he’d liked to admit aloud. "Say it," he challenged, bracing one forearm beside David's head. "Say you love me."

David's breath came fast, his traitorous heart pounding loud enough that Exer could probably hear it. How embarrassing. 

He reached up, tangling his fingers in Exer's hair. A soft sound escaped from Exer’s throat as he did so, a sound he had so longed to hear again. "Make me," he whispered, a smile seeping onto his face. 

Exer's eyes darkened. He dipped his head, lips brushing the shell of David's ear. "I love you," he murmured, the words warm against David's skin. "Your turn."

David's grip tightened. He pulled Exer down until their foreheads touched. "I love you," he confessed into the scant space between them. "Even when you're impossible."

Exer's answering smile was brighter than the streetlights cutting through the rain. "Even when I go off in a frenzy and don’t know what to do with myself when I’m with you?"

"Especially then." David tugged him closer. 

Exer's fingers twitched slightly where they rested against David's back. "I have to admit, I’m still scared," he admitted into the space between them. "Not of wanting you. But of wanting you this much. As corny as that sounds…"

David's hands came up to frame Exer's face, thumbs brushing away the lingering dampness on his cheeks. "I know," he giggled. "Me too."

The confession hung between them.

Exer's breath hitched. "Day, I am so sorry. I should’ve just told you sooner about how I was feeling instead of backing myself into a corner..."

"It hurt," David finished softly. "A ton. Not being able to touch or look at you like this." His thumb traced the curve of Exer's cheekbone. "Yknow, I’m sorry too, for not letting you know sooner about how I felt. It’s just, I feel awful when someone is worried for me. I guess I couldn’t stand the idea that someone was, especially if that person was someone as kind and genuine as you."

Exer's eyes searched David's face, looking for any hint of doubt. Finding none, his shoulders slumped with the weight of released tension. 

Slowly, deliberately, he brought their joined hands to rest over his heart. "Feel that? It's yours. Always has been, Day. Overflowing with the most genuine love there is around." A silly grin flashed onto his face, causing David’s face to heat intensely. “And it’s not going anywhere knowing my Day’s around.”

David could feel the wild rhythm beneath his palm - as frantic as his own. "You are so corny,” he whispered. He wanted nothing more than to place his hands upon his waist and feel the way his breath played along the outer edges of his ear. How Exer’s hands would play along the dips of his back and the way his neck—

Oh my god stop, just stop thinking those thoughts, David.

They stayed like that for a long moment - foreheads touching, hands intertwined, breathing the same air. The storm outside had quieted to a gentle patter, the room bathed in silver streetlight. Exer’s silhouette was strong but capable, calm but fiery. David wanted nothing more than to be enwrapped by it.

When Exer finally spoke again, his voice was barely audible. "Am I allowed to kiss you now"

Oh hell yes. David's answering smile was brighter than the stars gleaming outside. "Exer, take me away." Exer's breath caught as David closed the distance between them—slow, deliberate, giving him every chance to pull away. He didn't.

The first brush of lips was tentative. David's hands slid up to cradle Exer's jaw, thumbs tracing the sharp lines of his cheekbones. 

Exer melted into it with a shudder, fingers twisting in the fabric of David's shirt like he was afraid he'd vanish. David deepened the kiss gently—no urgency, no desperation, just warmth spreading between them like sunlight through honey.

This wasn’t the locker room. They had all the time in the world.

David pulled back just enough to murmur, "Hi," against Exer's lips, voice low and intimate.

Exer's lips curved in a smile. "Hi," he breathed back, already chasing David's mouth again.

David laughed softly and let himself be caught, the kiss turning deeper as Exer rolled them over with surprising strength. Their bodies aligned perfectly, David's back arching as Exer's hands slid under his shirt, calloused palms skating up his ribs.

"Is this alright?" Exer murmured between kisses, fingers teasing along David's waistband.

David's breath hitched. "Yes…” His hands mapped the planes of Exer's chest, reveling in the way his breath stuttered. "Still scared?"

Exer arched into the touch, eyes dark. "Terrified." His fingers dug into David's hips. "Let me know if I go too far."

"You’re right here, I’m not letting you go anywhere.” It was a bad attempt at a joke, but David at this moment didn’t care. He didn’t want to care.

Exer breathed what sounded like a laugh between kisses. “Neither am I.”

The next kiss was intertwined with rising heat and desperation, tongues sliding together with David’s permission as Exer's hands wandered lower, both of them gasping when their hips slotted together just right.

Exer broke away panting, forehead resting against David’s. "Say it again."

David’s smile was blinding. "I love you."

Exer kissed him until they were both breathless and grinning, the world outside their tangled limbs forgotten. 

—

Even when morning broke, they held each other tighter than ever, making sure not even an ounce of skin left its holding spot. Calm and tranquil, neither of them left. What was the rush?

Neither of them were going anywhere. Not for anything in the world.