๐๐๐๐๐๐๐โ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐, though only for one terrible, slow moment, when monty pulls away from him so abruptly. his immediate thought is that heโs done something WRONG and he eases himself away from monty for a moment, loosens his grip on him, holds his breath. it only takes a couple beats for monty to assert that heโs OKAY, his hands finding their way to his shirt and struggling with his buttons. this time, striker DOES pulls his hands away from his hips, instead moving to ghost over top of montyโs own. the action isnโt meant to stop him, but instead to reassure him. carefully, he drags his fingers across the distance between his knuckles and his wrists, a silent promiseย that heโs okay to slow down, to take his time. striker doesnโt have any intention of tearing montyโs suit off of him, anyway. if this is itย โย if this is what montyโs been waiting for, if this is the point where the thrill of the chase wears off and heโs no longer exciting to monty, if this is the only chance he getsย โย then heโs going to take his time and cherish every second of it. heโs not so sure if monty shares that desire, but he still finds himself nodding his consent each time that monty looks up at him to find it.ย
when montyโs motions stop, itโs with strikerโs shirt half-undone and he has to physically resist the urge to curl in on himself at the sight of his scar on display. instead, he forces himself to lean back on one arm and offer MORE of himself to monty, his free hand encouragingly carding through his hair. heโd assumed that monty hadnโt FORGOTTEN about it, but heโs still caught off guard by montyโs quick desire to expose it again. the thing about the L burned into his chest is that itโs one of the few injuries inflicted on him thatโs served its purpose properly. itโs a reminder of who he isย โย of who belongs toย โย and itโs a reminder of why heโs spent so many years keeping EVERYONE at a distance. heโs set his boundaries, built his walls, and so stubbornly adhered to his own rules. and now montyโs touching him so tenderly, pressing his lips against the very part of him that most signifies why he could neverย be the person monty deserves, and somehow he canโt help but wonder if heโs been WRONG this whole time.ย
itโs a lot to process, and he takes a moment to recover from the sudden onslaught of tender vulnerability. he doesnโt speak, at first, even though he so adamantly believes that the only work of art to be seen is most certainly monty. instead, he carefully turns his head just far enough to be able to press his lips to montyโs open palm and hopes that it conveys even a fraction of what heโs feeling. in its entirety, he knows that itโs far too much to even come near explaining with words or actions, alike, but heโs not trying to drown monty in all of it, anyway. all he needs right now is to be SEEN. his lips curl into something like a smile, though a sad one, at the irony of montyโs next statement. the mere idea of having spent the last ten months looking at ANYONE but him is almost laughable. still, thereโs something earnest about his words and his eyebrows furrow slightly as he watches his features, as though theyโll give way to any answers of just how long monty hasย wanted this. as expected, he comes up short, and all he can do is lean back into his space again, pressing a kiss to his lips, his cheek, his jaw. carefully, very carefully, he murmurs a softย โ i think i do, โย against his skin.
heโs startled by the sound of a breathy laugh tinged with bitterness, eyebrows knitting together as he tries to wrap his head around montyโs words. he pulls his head away slowly so that he can look at his features, already starting to shake his head before he can process the action. why monty would think that heโs EMBARRASSING himself is beyond him, honestly, but it doesnโt matter. he doesnโt need to understand his thinking in this momentย โย that can come LATERย โย all he needs right now is to assure him otherwise.ย โ monty, โย he murmurs, hand settling on his cheek to try and carefully catch his gaze.ย โ monty, BABY. โย any other soothing words he has die in his throat the moment that monty suggests that striker FORGET about him. his fingers carefully, carefullyย catch his chin and wait a moment to be sure that monty is looking at him before he speaks. he used to find it unnerving, the way that monty holds eye contact like heโs looking right into your soul. now he relishes in it. now he thinks that he would happily bare his whole soul to monty without question, if thatโs what he wanted.ย โ you are NOT embarrassing yourself, okay ?ย and iโm notโฆ โย he swallows, gives his head a tiny shake. thereโs a very fine line that separates the things that he wants to say and the things that monty wants to hear, and he very well knows that heโs likely about to cross it.ย he knows just as well that once he starts saying them, they canโt GO BACK, and he has to brace himself for the worstย โย for the blow of a rejection he wasnโt ready to stomach today.ย โ iโm not going to forget about you. iโve been thinking about this for MONTHS, i donโt WANT to forget about it. i donโt want to forget about you. not in the morning. not ever. โ
๐๐๐๐๐๐๐โ๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ and holds him, fixing him in place. wide-eyed, monty feels a shiver run down his spine at being called babyย yet again โ he doesnโt think he could ever possibly get used to that.ย itโsย already become something of a soothing balm: every time striker says it, monty melts, forgetting where he is for a moment in a haze of who, me ? like he canโt quite believe it. when he comes back to himself, heโs softened, his gaze open and trusting. heโs spent so long dancing around striker, touching him so freely โ finger walking up his arms, brushing up against him, playing with his fingers, tracing his tattoos โ yet now that itโs being actively reciprocated, monty doesnโt quite know what to do with himself. itโs almost as if heโd accepted the fact that he was doomed to pine. itโd be easier, at least, if he was left with the certainty that striker didnโt want him back. now, heโs as unsure as ever. striker wants him in some capacity โ he wouldnโt have let him stay here if he didnโt โ but the thought that he might not want monty in the same way is a terrible one.ย
with every word that striker says, though, he seems to be soothing all of montyโs worries.ย not in the morning. not ever. it makes his heart sing, but the problem is, monty only half-believes him; the idea of striker wanting to continue this beyond a single night exhilarates him, but he discards the possibility of forever without a second thought. no one has ever wanted him for that long, and he doubts the trend is about to change. heโll enjoy his time with striker, cling until striker is ready to toss him aside, and heโll nurse his broken heart all over again. itโs what he always does. he wonโt resent him for it โ monty knows thereโs something in him that makes this happen, over and over. heโs always trying to fix it, but it never quite works. striker will see that wrongness in him, whatever it is thatโs prevented everyone else from staying, and heโll leave. monty tries to hold this reminder in the forefront of his mind, but with striker looking at him the way he is, he canโt help but waver.
in this moment, he decides, heโll let himself fall into the idea that itโs true. how could he not, with strikerโs hand, gentle and firm all at once, curled around his chin ? with his eyes, dark and warm and inviting, holding montyโs own with a steadiness that almost unsettles him with how certainย it is ? with his voice, that same soothing rumble heโs become accustomed to over the time theyโve known each other, saying things heโs always dreamt of hearing from someone heโs grown to admire and cherish the way he does striker ? it feels far too good to be true, but montyโs always wanted the fairytale. heโs always been such a sucker.
so he lets himself fall all over again, feeling weightless as he sinks into strikerโs touch, every angle of his body crying out to be held. he tips his head forward, pressing their foreheads together gently, and swallows down the lump of emotion in his throat.ย โ for months ? โ he echoes softly, wanting to hear him say yes, iโve dreamed about you just as you have of me. montyโs selfish like that; striker could say it a thousand times and heโd never be satisfied.ย โ striker, i... โ he shakes his head slightly, suddenly at a loss for words. for someone so self-assured, someone who always has something to say, he canโt grasp any of his own emotions and spin them into something coherent.ย โ i donโt know what to say, โ is what he settles on, quiet and bare of his usual bravado.ย โ you donโt have to promise me that. i donโt want any promises you canโt keep, โ he insists, relieving striker of any obligation to him before heโs even had the change to form such a thing. monty brushes a thumb over his cheekbone, right over top of his tattoo, cataloguing every detail of strikerโs face. he wants to remember not everย for the rest of his life.ย โ i just want to be here with you. โ