“Because Andrew would do this to me too, and I can’t do it again, Luke. If you’re ashamed of me in front of your family––”
I grasp onto his hand, and then I do the only sensible fucking thing.
I pull him back into the middle of the kitchen where everyone is waiting for us, spin him around, and smash my lips to his. I slip my tongue into his mouth and fuck into it.
He whimpers as I hold him to me.
Asshole thinks I’m ashamed.
Nah, I’m fucking proud I bagged this dude. I know how lucky I am.
When I finally unsuction myself from his face, Elliot is flushed, his lips are swollen, and, shit, I wished I’d done this in a bedroom because my dick is ready again. You’d think it’d be tired, but it has the stamina of a superhero.
Superman hearing with a Superman dick.
Silence permeates the space, and I turn toward my parents.
“He’s mine,” I say, because that just about sums it up. Nothing else needs to be said.
“Thank god. I was hoping,” my ma says, grasping onto my dad’s hand.
I run my hand up to the back of Elliot’s neck and squeeze gently. There, now no one has to be wondering. Especially Elliot.
“And I’m trans,” he suddenly blurts, his body stiffening against mine as if he expects blowback. Like my parents are some sort of bigoted assholes.
“Oh, is that so? How wonderful. You’re perfect,” Ma says, then rushes over to him and pulls him into a hug.“Welcome to the family.”
Elliot freezes, his hands hanging limply at his side as Ma crushes him to her, and then slowly, so fucking slowly, he embraces her.
He blinks over at me, shock on his face. That’s right, Eli. Take a nice long look. You’re stuck with us now.
“Tell me you want kids,” Ma says to him, pulling away and beaming up at him.
“Yes.”
“Joel, he wants kids,” Ma beams, and I roll my eyes.
“We’re going to do surrogacy,” I tell her.
She gasps and clasps her hands together. “Oh, I cannot wait. They’re going to be beautiful babies.”
Elliot is just wide-eyed at this, blinking rapidly.
“Excuse me for a moment,” he says, his voice hoarse. He nods once and then disappears down the hallway.
Of course, I follow him and find him in the bathroom, the door open just a crack. And the sight of him nearly breaks me. His shoulders are hunched, his hands clutching onto the edge of the counter, his eyes squeezed shut as he breathes deeply.
“Eli?” I say softly.
“She said I was perfect,” he says, not opening his eyes.
I reach over and press a hand to his waist, “Yeah, ‘cause you are.”
“No one has ever said that about me before.”
“Eli, I’ve told you that. You must have forgotten. So, I’ll say it again. You’re absolutely perfect. Perfect as you are and perfect for me.”
I wrap my arms around his waist and tuck my head into his neck. His eyes flick open, and our gazes meet in the mirror.