Holden felt like he was finally coming up for air.
His lungs seemed to expand in his chest the more that Percy kissed him, which seemed like a medical fucking marvel since they were kissing each other breathless right now. At the same time, breathing was coming to him the easiest it had in years. He hadn’t felt like this since long before his mom died and had taken the key to Holden’s joy with her. Percy’s lips on his gave him a little of that happiness back and Holden was stupid enough to think that he could keep it.
“I know,” he said, in response to Percy’s quietly whispered ‘wow’.
He quickly swallowed up any other noise the other man made, selfishly wanting to keep them all to himself. There was no one around them right now, but he couldn’t think of a single person in Milano, on Earth, that deserved to hear the quiet moans Percy was letting out. They were driving Holden crazy.
As soon as Percy’s knee lifted between his legs, he let out a choked-off moan of his own and began immediately grinding against the hard plane of his thigh. That was what Percy wanted him to do, right? What kind of argument could Holden hold up against that? His hips moved slowly, dragging his crotch against Percy’s leg as his eyelids fluttered and his mouth fell open in a whimper. His hot breath mingled with soft, turned-on noises spilled messily against Percy’s tongue as Holden fisted his hands in the front of Percy’s tracksuit.
He heard the bang, distantly and from far away. But his brain didn’t think to highlight it as any sort of threat. It was a non-issue to Holden. What else was going to be of any importance to him when he finally had Percy pulled flush against him, his tongue in the other man’s mouth?
Evidently, Percy thought otherwise and pushed Holden back.
It wasn’t a gentle shove and Holden hadn’t been expecting it. His mouth was ripped away from Percy’s and he stumbled backwards, a good few steps before he found his balance again and righted himself. His tracksuit sweater, half-zipped above his shirt had fallen down on one side and he blinked stupidly, before hiking it back over his shoulder. It was something to do while his body tried to gently prepare him for the stinging feeling of rejection.
When it arrived, Holden felt the muscles in his face grow tight, drawing themselves in as he pressed his kiss-swollen lips into a thin line.
“It was nothing, nobody’s here–” he tried to say, but was swiftly cut off by Percy’s biting, accusatory tone.
Holden’s eyes widened when he realised that Percy was blaming him for this. In the same way Holden had blamed himself for before. He’d beaten himself up over that for years and had long since acquainted himself with the idea of self-beration and accountability, no matter what the pundits on ESPN said about him. Holden knew when he’d done something wrong, and the events of the night were replayed in his head, a slow motion VAR. Like a referee checking a bad play, he went through it frame by frame and could only settle on one conclusion.
“What am I doing?” he repeated. “You kissed me.”
He stared at Percy, cheeks flushed, still breathing heavily. His chest felt tighter than it had a moment ago.
Stupidly, he felt his eyes burn and wanted to childishly pout at the unfairness of being told off for something he hadn’t done. He quickly bowed his head, blinking rapidly before lifting it again to frown at Percy.
“Nobody’s going to see us. But I’m not fucking keeping you here, man. I didn’t… I didn’t force you into anything,” he argued, feeling sick at the mere thought.
He shook his head and, a cold, sardonic smile slipping onto his face, he gestured towards the exit.
“Think this is usually the part where you run away. You know, if you wanna make it just like old times.”
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