Defenseman No. 9 - Xavier Neal Page 0,65
who got to see you in your towel and shit, but the way it cut from that to you in your suit while playing ‘So Fresh, So Clean’ was brilliant.”
“Thank you.” I fight against the bad habit of not expressing my gratitude and add, “Thank you for the compliment. I work my ass off to keep my dance shit original and fresh, and it’s nice that someone notices.”
“I always notice.”
“And…I also wanna thank you, again, for tonight.”
His eyes swing over to me once he pulls up to the stoplight right off the highway.
“I know a night of over-salted dinner and the opera with my fucking parents isn’t exactly what you wanted to do, but I appreciate it.” My head hits the headrest as my eyes bore into his. “I probably don’t say that shit enough, Hugo. I do, though. I do appreciate you noticing me. I do appreciate you coming with me. And, I do appreciate that you believe that being with me is all that matters.”
“It’s all that’s ever mattered.”
My heart stops skipping beats to swell uncontrollably.
“Shit comes and goes, Crash. It’s the people that stay that make all the difference. I’d rather attend a million of these things with you and get to enjoy the look of pure happiness on your face than spend one night doing anything else. Your happiness has always been attached to my own. I get how co-dependent that shit sounds, but,” he steals a small swipe of his lips, “it’s the truth. Your joy brings me joy. Your smile gives me a reason to smile. Knowing you’re alright, makes me alright. You bring a different kind of purpose to my life, baby, and no one and nothing else will ever compare.” His thumb gives my thigh a gentle stroke. “I love you and always have.”
The weight of his words hits me right in the chest. I lower my mouth to say something…anything…yet air is all that manages to leave me.
Rather than demand I say it back or inquire if I do, he offers me another sweet smile and resumes driving as though he didn’t just drop that Superbowl halftime performance announcement in my lap.
What the fuck just happened?
Did he really just say what he said to me?
Can it even be…fucking true?
How is that possible?!
How can he possibly say that shit after that epic fight we had a week ago?
How can that shit possibly be true, considering I made him switch plans pretty last minute just to please me?
Did he just say that shit to top my gratitude speech?
Was he just trying to prove he can always do one better than me?
Indignancy struts rapidly through the runways of my system; however, the instant Hugo shoots me an innocent, loving glance, it’s pushed off the catwalk.
Fuck, will I ever stop seeing myself as the sidepiece you say you love to keep around and start seeing myself as this…treasured prize that Hugo believes I am?
How long does that process fucking take?
As we step foot into Hugo’s apartment, he asks, “I have a question for you.”
“Shoot.”
“Do you know how to get lemon aioli out of a tux?”
I try to find the light-hearted attitude that was lost in his SUV. “Did my Mr. Clean make a mess?”
“No.” The door shuts behind him. “I just happened to get a smidge on the inside of my jacket.”
Amusement reappears in full force at the same time I stop strolling backwards towards his room. “When you say a smidge, do you mean a me-sized smidge or like a you-sized smidge?”
His arms fold, disapprovingly, across his chest. “You’re making fun of my size.”
“Of course not, James Bond. I’m just looking for frame of reference here. Last time you implied something was small, I was very ill-prepared for the plug that found its way into my ass.”
Hugo’s cheeks start to turn their famous shade prior to him quietly proclaiming, “It wasn’t any bigger than my thumb.”
“You’ve got a huge thumb, Boo.” Insecurity swiftly tries to take hold, prompting me to swat it away. “And, a huge hand…” I reach forward and graze the outside of his pants. “And, a huge fucking cock that I love choking on.”
My boyfriend groans while nudging his hips slightly forward.
“What do you say we go make that happen and worry about that stain later? I’ve got a pocket full of candy I know we’ve both been thinking about…”
Heated looks are briefly exchanged before our mouths lock to begin the small trek to his bedroom. Shoes along with socks are