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I dialed the door code and stepped into Dew’s apartment. It wasn’t new, he had given me full access years ago. I had been coming here for so long, sometimes with friends, sometimes alone, that the place felt almost like a second home.
What was new were the muffled sounds coming from his room.
I froze in the hallway.
For a few seconds I simply stood there, listening to the soft, rhythmic moans, before the meaning of them fully registered. My first instinct was to leave. I turned and walked quickly toward the door, reached for the handle and found I couldn’t go.
My heart was hammering so hard it felt as if it might burst from my chest. My throat had gone dry. The sounds from the bedroom blurred and faded, as though I were sinking underwater. Only then did I notice that my hands were trembling on the doorknob.
Gently, almost without deciding to, I closed the door again.
I did not leave.
I couldn’t.
I went to the couch and sank onto it, the weight in my chest sudden and crushing. It ached so sharply that I pressed a hand against my sternum, trying to ease the pain, but it did nothing. I forced myself to breathe slowly, deliberately, yet the air refused to settle. The sounds from the bedroom had blurred into something distant and watery, but I still could not calm down. Was it simply because this was the first time I had ever walked in on Dew like this?
No. That didn’t explain the depth of it, why it hurt this much.
I pulled a cushion against me and curled onto my side, making myself as small as possible, as if shrinking could somehow keep the sounds from reaching me. It didn’t work. When I buried my face in the fabric I felt the wetness of it and realized, that I was crying.
Fuck me. What was wrong with me? I couldn’t leave, and being here is so painful.
I pushed myself upright. My legs felt unsteady, drained of strength. Exhaustion dragged at every step as I started toward the bedroom, intending to put an end to whatever was happening inside. Then the thought stopped me cold, if I opened that door, the sight of it would only make this worse. I turned away and went out to the balcony instead.
I slid the glass door shut behind me. The sounds cut off at once. Alone in the quiet, I sat down, hands still shaking, and pulled out my phone. Without giving myself time to think, I called him.
He answered after a few rings.
“Hello?” His voice was the same calm, composed tone it always was, yet I could still hear the faint edge of panting beneath it.
“Hello, Tee?” he said again when I didn’t answer.
My reply came out barely above a whisper. “Get her out.”
He heard it. He had always been like that, sharply attentive, even in the smallest things. A few minutes later I heard the front door open and close.
I heard my name being called from the hallway. I stayed silent.
A moment later the balcony door slid open and Dew stepped out. He sat down in front of me, his expression tight with concern.
“Hey… what’s wrong?”
I lifted my head to look at him. The worry on his face was so plain it made something in my chest twist harder. He rested a hand on my knee and patted it gently, the same question softening even further.
“What’s wrong, Tee?”
I forced the words up through a throat that felt scraped dry. I couldn’t meet his eyes, so I kept my gaze fixed on my folded hands in my lap. Even then I could feel him trying to catch a glimpse of my face, still watching me with that same quiet worry.
“I don’t know.”
He frowned, confused. “Huh? Don’t know what, Tee?”
“I don’t know what’s wrong.”
“So why are you like this?” he asked carefully. “Did someone say something? Is there a problem at the company? What is it?”
I said nothing. After a moment he exhaled and tried a different approach.
“Okay. Let’s go inside. It’s cold out here. We can talk inside, all right?”
I nodded. He stood and offered his hand, when I took it he gently pulled me to my feet and led me back into the apartment.
We sat on the couch. His eyes never left my face, still clouded with concern.
“I’m here,” he said quietly. “Whenever you feel ready… you can tell me why you’re like this.”
But what could I possibly tell him? That my heart had nearly stopped at the sounds coming from his bedroom? How would he react, after all the careful distance I had kept between us for so long, knowing full well that he had liked me for years?
He had always been sweet and subtle about it. After enough time, he had seemed to accept that we would remain only friends. Nothing had ever been said out loud, yet we had both been aware of the quiet current running beneath everything. He had liked me more than a friend, I had noticed, he had tried, gently and I had kept the space between us intact.
I had been terrified of ruining what we had. I had watched other people cross that line, only to lose each other completely afterward. Dew was the most important person in my life, and some stubborn, self-protective part of me had insisted on maintaining that wall, anything to keep the friendship safe.
And now I was stunned by my own audacity, stopping him from doing something I had no right to stop. I was only his friend.
His hand settled on my shoulder, pulling me out of the spiral.
“Talk to me,” he said quietly, “if you’ve calmed down a little.”
“I didn’t like that,” I mumbled.
He looked confused, not following. So I forced the words out again, clearer this time.
“I didn’t like that you were with someone else.”
His mouth opened, then closed. His brows drew together. He glanced toward the bedroom, then back at me. I followed his gaze and gave a small nod.
“And why is that?” he asked.
I stayed silent. When he repeated the question, I scrambled for a reason and ended up saying the same thing.
“Because… I just didn’t like it, okay?”
He let out a short, disbelieving scoff.
“Why? What’s wrong with me fucking someone in my own bed? In my apartment? What does that have to do with your like or dislike?”
The casual way he said it ' fucking someone', as if it were nothing, sparked a flash of anger. Of course it was nothing. He was a grown man. He could do whatever he wanted in his own apartment.
But fuck this.
Fuck this aching heart.
I didn’t know how to explain it. So I did the only irrational thing I shouldn’t have done, I grabbed the nape of his neck, pulled him toward me, and kissed him.
It was pure impulse. I had never been good with words, especially not under this kind of stress. Dew was the one who could speak clearly, who always found the right thing to say. I wasn’t. So I did the only thing that felt self explanatory.
Apparently I got the memo wrong.
Dew pushed me away at once, staring at me in pure shock, completely at a loss for words.
“The fuck are you doing?” he said, voice sharp and loud.
I dropped my gaze, not knowing what to do or say next.
“Tee. Fucking explain yourself. What’s this? Why did you suddenly kiss me?”
I looked up and shouted back, “Are you that dumb? Can’t you understand why I did that?”
He looked puzzled for a moment, then let out a short, incredulous scoff.
“What is it? Some kind of prank you’re pulling? You bastard. You’ve always kept me at a distance. You knew from the start how I felt about you. You made it crystal clear that those feelings weren’t going to be reciprocated. I dealt with it. I became the good friend you always wanted. And now you suddenly show up, tell me you don’t like me being with someone else, and kiss me? So yeah, I guess I’m dumb. Use your fucking words and explain.”
His voice cracked on the last words. He looked both furious and deeply hurt, eyes shining with unshed tears. Watching him like that hurt more than anything I had felt when I first walked into the apartment. I could see how much he was suffering.
“Fucking tell me,” he shouted again.
I flinched and looked down as my vision began to blur.
A bitter laugh escaped him. I lifted my head. He had leaned back against the couch, frustration carved into every line of his face. He sighed, glanced up at the ceiling, then back at me, waiting. The room stayed thick with silence.
“Hey, Tee… it’s a prank, right?” he asked, quieter this time.
I shook my head instantly. “No. Please, Dew. Why would you even say that?”
He smirked without any real humor. “So you like me? Is that what you’re saying?”
I took his hand carefully and rested it on my lap. This time he didn’t pull away. His eyes, once stormy, had become unreadable as he watched my every small movement. I scooted closer, using the quiet seconds to steady my racing heart.
He knew how hard it was for me to put feelings into words. Perhaps that was why he simply let out a slow breath, the tension in his shoulders easing a little. He didn’t press me. He only watched, giving me the space I needed.
I met his gaze and began, voice low.
“Dew… I’m sorry....”
He tried to withdraw his hand at once. I tightened my grip.
“No, no, that’s not… please just listen to me.”
He looked up at the ceiling with a kind of weary hopelessness, as if bracing himself for another heartbreak. The sight twisted something deep inside me. How long had I let him suffer like this, knowing how much he cared? And when my own feelings had begun to grow, I had only pushed them down, saying nothing.
“You know I always thought I was protecting this friendship,” I continued. “By pushing you away. By keeping you at a safe distance so we could stay together without anyone getting hurt. Especially you. I was wrong. I hurt you anyway. You’re the most important person in my life, and I was so selfish about keeping us ‘safe’ that I failed completely. I’m sorry for hurting you.”
His eyes shone with unshed tears when he looked at me again.
I lifted his hand and pressed a soft kiss to his knuckles.
“Dew… I realized, slowly, that what you felt for me… I felt the same. But I didn’t have the courage to tell you. I was the one who built that invisible wall between us, so I just let it go, thinking nothing would ever change. Then today, when I walked in and heard you with someone else…”
Shock flickered across his face, gone almost as quickly as it came. He watched me carefully now, almost encouraging.
“…I hated it. It hurt so badly, right here.” I pressed my palm against my chest. “I could barely breathe. I wanted to leave, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to leave you with someone else. I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do, so I called you. I.....”
“You did the right thing,” he said quietly.
He lifted his other hand and cupped my cheek. My vision had gone blurry with tears, but I could still see the quiet happiness beginning to break through his expression. I managed a small smile.
“I’m sorry for shouting at you,” he murmured. “I should have been more patient.”
I shook my head. “You’ve been patient enough. I’m the one who was a coward. Who couldn’t even be honest with myself.” I paused. “Dew?”
“Tell me.”
“It’s not too late… is it?”
I glanced toward the bedroom, then back at him, wiping my face with my sleeve so I could see him clearly. My eyes searched his, desperate for the answer I needed.
Dew’s smile broke wide and sudden. In one smooth motion he curled his arms around my waist and pulled me onto his lap, burying his face against my neck. Even though he was only an inch or so taller, I fit against him as if I had always belonged there, like a missing piece finally sliding into place. I wrapped my arms tightly around his shoulders, hiding my face, unable to stop the smile that spread across it. This felt right. Him in my arms.
A moment later I felt the cool dampness of tears against my shoulder. He was crying. I stroked his hair gently, trying to soothe him, but the quiet shaking of his shoulders only made my own eyes fill again.
We stayed like that for a long time.
Eventually I loosened my hold and cradled his face in both hands, guiding him to look up at me. His eyes, nose, and cheeks were flushed from crying, yet when his gaze met mine he smiled so brightly it nearly undid me all over again.
God, I loved this man. How stupid I had been to push him away for so long.
I leaned in and kissed him. He answered at once, lips soft and sure against mine.
“I love you,” he whispered against my mouth.
I smiled and kissed him deeper, fingers sliding into his hair. He caught my lower lip and sucked gently; I tried to match the heat rising between us.
Then he laid me against the couch and followed, never breaking the kiss. I could feel years of unspoken longing in the way his mouth moved over mine, in the careful exploration of his tongue. He trailed lower along my jaw, breathing me in, pressing open mouthed kisses to my skin, sometimes letting his tongue brush against it. A soft whimper escaped me.
When he reached my neck he lifted his head suddenly, looking down at my face. A wide, almost disbelieving smile spread across his lips.
“It’s real,” he breathed. “Fuck… it’s real.”
Then he returned to my neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks. I moaned aloud and laughed breathlessly at the same time. He only pressed closer, determined, and I found myself hoping there would be plenty of evidence left behind.
He continue kissing down on my shoulderers, he first tried to tear my shirt open at the collar. When the fabric refused to give, a low sound of frustration left his throat. His hands slipped underneath instead, palms hot and restless as they mapped the skin of my stomach, my ribs, the sensitive line of my sides. His thumbs brushed over my nipples through the thin material and I sucked in a sharp breath.
Then I felt it, the hard, heavy press of his cock against mine through our clothes.
I pushed at his shoulder. He lifted his head, eyes dark and questioning, until I tugged urgently at the hem of his shirt. He understood at once. In one fluid motion he dragged it over his head and threw it aside, revealing the smooth plane of his chest, the faint trail of hair disappearing into his waistband. I barely had time to look before he was back on me, fingers flying over the buttons of my shirt.
“Dew, calm down,” I scolded, smiling even as my voice shook.
He pouted, the expression almost boyish, but he slowed. One button. Then the next. Each new strip of skin he uncovered was greeted with an open mouthed kiss, the soft space just above my navel, the sensitive skin along my hipbone. When he finally pushed the shirt off my shoulders, he sat back on his heels for a second just to look at me, chest rising and falling hard.
His hands moved to my jeans. The moment his fingers brushed the button, my eyes widened. He felt the hesitation immediately and stopped, palms resting lightly on my thighs.
“If it’s not okay,” he said, voice rough, “just tell me"
I shook my head, throat tight. “Continue.”
He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath, then carefully worked the button free and drew the zipper down. The sound was obscenely loud in the quiet room. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of both jeans and underwear and pulled them down together, slow enough that the cool air kissed every newly exposed inch of skin. My cock sprang free, already flushed and wet at the tip. He made a low, hungry sound at the sight.
I sat up and reached for him in return. My hands were steadier than I expected as I undid his pants and shoved them down his hips. His cock was thick, heavy, the head already shiny with precum. Neither of us looked away. The air between us felt charged, almost electric.
When he lowered himself over me again, I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him down. Skin to skin, our cocks slid together for a moment, both of us already leaking. He kissed me hard, tongue pushing into my mouth as one of his hands slipped between us.
He pulled back, kissed me and stood up from the couch and went to the bed room, after a moment he appeared with bottle of lube and a condom packet in his hand. He get on top of me and tore the condom open with his teeth, rolled it down his length with shaking fingers, then clicked the lube open. The cool gel dripped onto his fingers before he brought them back between my legs.
I felt his slick fingers press against my entrance. He circled once, twice, then slowly pushed one finger inside.
I gasped into his mouth.
He worked me open carefully, first one finger, then two, coating me thoroughly with lube, curling them until he found the spot that made my back arch off the couch. By the time he added a third, I was panting against his lips, hips pushing down to meet every stroke, the wet sound of the lube filling the quiet room.
“Ready?” he whispered, voice shaking.
I nodded. “Yes, please.....”
He withdrew his fingers, poured a little more lube over the condom, stroked himself once to spread it, i wrapped my legs around his waist, and he lined himself up and pushed in.
The stretch burned in the best way but also painfully. Thick, hot, relentless. He sank into me inch by inch until he was fully inside me, hips flush against mine, both of us trembling. For a second neither of us moved. His forehead dropped to mine, breath ragged.
“Fuck… Tee....” His voice cracked. “You’re so tight… it's so warm inside you…”
Then he started to move.
Slow at first then long, deep thrusts that dragged along every sensitive place inside me. Each time he pulled almost all the way out and sank back in, a broken moan was punched from my throat. He swallowed the sounds with his mouth, kissing me like he was drowning.
His pace built quickly. The wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of me filled the room, filthy and perfect. His hips snapped harder, deeper, the angle shifting until every thrust dragged over that spot that made my vision spark white.
“Fuck… this feels so unreal, so dreamy, ahh, Tee.....” he groaned against my lips. “I’ve wanted this for so long.....”
The combination of his voice, the thick stretch of him inside me, and the relentless drag against my prostate was too much. My cock, trapped between our stomachs, twitched hard as I came without being touched, spilling hot between us in thick pulses while my body clenched around him.
He cursed, hips stuttering.
“Tee, I love you so much, fuck, I’m close, what do I do, i feels too good baby....” His words spilled out in desperate, broken moans against my ear. His thrusts turned erratic, almost frantic. “I can’t hold it, Tee, please....”
I understood. He was asking.
“Don’t hold back,” I whispered, voice wrecked. “Cum for me, Dew. Please.”
He shattered with a broken, almost sobbing sound, burying his face in the curve of my neck as he came. I felt every hot pulse of him through the condom, deep inside me, his hips grinding through it like he never wanted to leave. He kept thrusting weakly until he was completely spent, trembling against me.
Only then did he collapse fully, chest heaving, cock still buried inside me, face pressed to my neck.
We stayed like that for a long time, sticky, breathless, hearts racing against each other. I stroked the damp hair at the nape of his neck, the knobs of his spine, pressing soft kisses to his temple.
It still felt unreal.
After a while, regaining some strength, He laughed quietly, the sound edged with leftover tears. “I had lost hope that I’d ever get to be with you. You know how hard it is to stay friends with your crush?”
I smiled. “I guess I do.”
He smirked, and the sight of it, flushed, happy, still half wrecked. He had always been beautiful, but like this, in my arms, he looked like something I had only ever dreamed of.
He kissed my lips once, then my cheeks, then covered my entire face in quick, joyful kisses until I was laughing. He looked so openly happy, and the knowledge that I was the reason for it settled warm and deep in my chest.
After a while I remembered. “Who were you with?”
He settled against my shoulder with a soft huff. “Just a one night stand.”
I slapped his arm. He laughed.
“Yeah, yeah. You can be jealous from now on. It’s your right.”
I smiled at that.
He grew quieter. “Tee… you remember how we always talked about working together someday?”
I hummed in answer.
“There’s a script that came my way. A thriller about a serial killer and police officer. I already told them I want you as my co-star.”
He had been trying to get us paired for years. I had mostly stopped believing it would happen, but the optimism in his voice was hard to ignore.
“Even if they don’t cast me,” I said, “you should still do it, okay?”
“Don’t say that. I’ve put too much effort into this. We’re going to work together this time. Trust me, baby.”
The word 'baby' made heat rush to my face. Thank god he wasn’t looking at me in that moment.
“What do you say?” he asked, lifting his head.
“Okay. If you’re that confident… maybe this time we will.”
He smiled and kissed my neck. “I love you, Tee.”
I only hummed in reply. He propped himself up and looked down at me.
“Say it.”
When I only smiled, teasing, he began sulking in the most dramatic way, peppering my face with kisses while chanting, “Say it, say it, say it......” until I was laughing too hard to resist. Then he tickled my stomach.
“Stop, stop! I love you too, ahhh, stop it!”
He finally stilled, watching me with soft, mesmerized eyes as I caught my breath.
I said it again, quieter this time. “I love you too, Dew.”
He kissed me, slow and deep. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and held on.
This felt right.
Like home.
He's my home.
He had always been.