“Everything. The way I acted when we first met. All the shit I put you through after. If only I’d—”
I shushed him with my lips, kissing him sweetly. He sighed into my mouth and took it for what it was. I didn’t need him to apologize anymore.
“You fucked up,” I said as I pulled away. “I fucked up. Then we spent years doing this weird mating dance where you tried to fluff your plumage up to show me your brightly colored feathers while screwing twinks like it was going out of style.”
“That is not what happened,” he said, sounding appropriately outraged. “I don’t have fucking plumage, what the fuck—”
“It was really rather daunting,” I said. “I don’t think anyone’s ever filmed a Homo Jock King in the wild in the throes of his mating dance.”
He groaned and covered his face with one of his hands. “I already regret everything about this.”
I laughed at him. “It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”
“How do you figure?”
I shrugged. “You came on my face. In some cultures, that’s considered a marriage proposal.”
He looked like he was trying desperately to hide how hysterical I was. His lips barely twitched. “Is that right.”
I nodded and poked his nose, because I thought I could do stuff like that now. And the idea of it made me unnecessarily giddy. “That’s right. My family will arrange a meeting to exchange goats for me.”
“I think I’d rather keep the goats.”
“Bastard,” I said. “Goats won’t let you come on them. Or they will, but you’d have to be really fucked up to do something like that.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” he asked, looking slightly horrified.
“Honestly? I have no idea. I think I’m a little high right now.”
“I did that,” he said.
“Part of it,” I said. “Most of it was me, though. I rocked your world.”
“You’re deflecting.”
“Probably. But I can’t remember what it was I was supposed to be deflecting.”
He took my hand in his, entwining our fingers. He brought my hand up and kissed my knuckles and I didn’t dare open my mouth, sure that I would blurt my feelings all over him. It was a scary prospect, especially since I knew there was really no going back for me at this point.
“Are we doing this?” he asked again.
“This,” I repeated.
He scowled at me. “Yes. This.”
“What is this?” I asked, curious as to what he thought of us.
His eyes darted away, and I saw the flush creeping up his cheeks. He shrugged. “You know. Like. Just. God.”
I kept a straight face when I said, “Dare, are you asking to go steady?”
He blushed furiously. “Shut up. That’s not—just. Don’t make fun of me about this.”
I rolled my eyes. “Like I would even think about it.” Even though I sort of was.
“Uh, yeah. You would.”
“Okay, so I’m an asshole. Whatever. Look. I like you and you like me. We can—”