But not letting go of Rian’s hand.
Because all those wounds were as much his fault as Rian’s.
The way he locked up inside himself, and wouldn’t let anyone else in.
Because letting them in meant letting them close enough to hurt.
Meant holding on to something hard enough that he could only feel loss, if he had to let it go.
“I think, sometimes...” He stopped, swallowing, his mouth and throat dry. “Sometimes you meet someone, and you just know. This person could be everything...or they could goddamn well wreck you. Worse than anyone else ever could, because the feeling runs that deep.” So deep that when he curled his fingers more firmly in Rian’s, he felt like he could sense Rian’s heartbeat pulsing in his fingertips, echoing Damon’s own. “But you get so scared, you know? Fucking terrified of getting wrecked like that. So before you find out if it could be good...you run like hell from the chance that it could be bad. And if there’s nowhere for you to run, you fucking push. You push and push and push them away, so they can’t get close enough to hurt you in all the ways you know they could.” He let out that breath he’d inhaled, chest binding up tight. “And the whole damned time you’re hurting them in all the ways you never wanted to be, ’cause maybe for them...you’re the person who scares them, too.”
That remained between them, the night still save for the distant murmurs of birds in the trees, the rustle of insects through the leaves. Then Rian shifted to lean against him, solidarity and understanding in the pressure of that thin shoulder against Damon’s arm.
“Is that what we’ve been doing?” Rian asked.
“Yeah. I think it is.”
“Then...what do you want to do about it?”
“Stop hurting each other.” Damon turned his head, looking down at Rian—and his mouth went dry for an entirely different reason as he took in how pretty Rian was, resting so easily and so trustingly against him. “We keep hurting each other trying not to want each other...so why’d we get so wrapped up in trying not to want each other, huh?”
“Stubbornness. Pride,” Rian murmured. “Or maybe like you said...fear. But I already know the ways we can hurt each other. What do I have to be afraid of anymore?”
“It could get worse,” Damon pointed out reluctantly.
“Or it could get better.” Rian smiled—a small, wondering thing, and yet it pulled Damon’s heart on a string. “Nobody can hurt me the way you do because nobody makes me feel the way you do, Damon. Period.” He turned to face Damon fully, resting his free hand to Damon’s chest, that pale thing like a butterfly alighting, so fragile and yet seeming to anchor Damon to earth as Rian looked at him with his head cocked, that strange smile lingering. “So let’s stop pushing each other away...and start pulling each other closer. Admit it. When we stop fighting...we’re good together.”
“I’m not gonna lie and say we’re not.” Damon slid his free arm around Rian’s waist, pulling him close, savoring how Rian came to him so easily, swaying against him. “You and me, the way we worked with Chris...makes us feel like we’re already family.”
“And family’s important to you...isn’t it?”
“One of the most important things in the world.”
“Then I know what you’re saying, when you tell me I feel like family.” Rian leaned into him, resting his brow to Damon’s, so sweetly close. “And... I just...thank you. Thank you for...for giving that to me.”
“Do you know what I mean, though? Do you really?”
Rian’s brows knit; he drew back together just enough for hazel eyes to flick over Damon’s face. “Am... I missing something? Did I say something wro—”
Damon stopped that train of thought short.
And caught Rian’s chin between his fingers, drawing him up to kiss him.
He’d only meant to kiss Rian quickly, lightly, anything to stop that clash of misunderstandings and worries that could spiral until they started stabbing at each other again and this gentle, quiet peace fell apart. But the moment he tasted Rian’s lips, he needed more.
No—he needed everything.
He needed this fractious, frustrating man who melted so willingly into his arms; needed the way Rian made him laugh, challenged him, worked with him so well that Damon never wanted to think of them working against each other ever again. He needed to shelter Rian, and protect him; needed the small and yet so potent, telling ways Rian tried to protect Damon, as well, telling Damon without words that Damon mattered to him.
And Damon needed to matter to Rian.
Needed to matter to this pretty mercurial thing as much as Rian mattered to him.
And he kissed Rian as if he could imprint that on him; as if he could make Rian understand the things it was so hard for Damon to say sometimes, show him with every stroke of his lips and the soft touch of feinting tongues and the mingling of sighs that Damon... Damon...
Fuck.
He had to say it out loud.
He had to say it, because it was too large to hold inside him and God, he couldn’t lock this up inside as if it was something to be jealously hoarded when it only meant something for him as long as it was shared.
His entire body pounding with the rough beat of his heart, he drew back slowly, breaking that kiss and looking down at Rian’s glazed, glittering eyes; his pink-parted lips.
“I’m saying,” Damon breathed roughly, tracing his thumb beneath Rian’s pale, sweet mouth, “that I fucking love you, Rian.”
Rian blinked. Gasped.
Then burst into laughter.
Delighted laughter, warm as an embrace, his eyes lighting up so bright, the emotion in his laugh, in his smile, so unrestrained and true.
“You couldn’t get that out without one more ‘fuck,’ could you?” he teased, his slender arms sliding up around Damon’s neck. That laughing mouth taunted, enticed, and Damon could tell the words it formed by the shape of them before Rian even said it—but Damon needed to hear it nonetheless as Rian shyly, quietly admitted, “... I do hope it’s been obvious that I love you too.”
“In between calling me names.” Damon couldn’t stop grinning. How could he be anything but happy, standing beneath the pale moonlight with Rian in his arms and those words traded between their lips? “I don’t know how the hell we did this, Ri...but I been wanting somewhere to belong for so goddamned long, and somehow...somehow I found that in you.”
“I’m glad,” Rian breathed, as he tilted his head up to meet Damon, to capture him, to draw him into that warm mouth for another kiss, another promise, another affirmation that made him blaze as if he’d been struck, and his heart had never stopped burning. “Because I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather belong than with you.”