at first, those lines had been clear. thomas couldn’t handle anything more than kisses. and alex knew not to push that boundary. he had no desire to. after all, he couldn’t begin to imagine what it must be like for thomas on the nights he stayed over at alex’s apartment; sleeping in the same bed he’d seen alex and john in barely two months ago.

but as time passed, those kisses began to linger for much longer than they had before. kisses lingered, hands roamed, and the lines were bent just ever so slightly.

alex asked no questions. eventually thomas would pull away, or shrink back, and they’d stop. and that was that.

that was that, until it wasn’t.

until it became a question of when.

not for alex. never for alex. alex went as far as thomas was ready to, and no further. it was for thomas, surprisingly, that night after night of pulling away and mumbling apologies became trying to his mind. it started to feel as if he wanted to go further, but was almost scared to. a burning conflict within himself.

which is why the night of may 25th winds up in a kiss on alex’s bed that lasts far too long.

thomas’s chest almost aches, as if weighed down; on any other night this would be where he’d pull away, averting his eyes, and that would be the gut-wrenching end of it. but the fact is he doesn’t know where he wants this to go. he doesn’t know whether he wants to stay in this moment or take things further. and as for taking things further, he doesn’t know if he’s ready.

and alex waits.

waits for thomas to pull away. waits for the apology that would soon be followed by his heart sinking in his chest. time is slipping away, not giving him space to think of anything other than the inevitable fact that thomas isn’t ready. not knowing if he’ll ever be ready.

the blood rushing to thomas’s head turns its attention elsewhere, and thomas panics, breaking away sharply. his mouth goes dry. and for once it’s not because he can’t go any further. it’s that he’s scared he might want to. his hands shake slightly, his breathing shallow. unable to form the usual muttered apology. telling himself to just make up his mind already.

somewhere outside the drawn curtains, the streets echo with typical city nightlife. nothing thomas would pay any mind to otherwise. but now, every tire screech and every faint clack, clack of someone’s high heels seem ten times louder. filling up the room, suffocating him.

and he’s pulled away, but alex is still so close.

“you alright?” alex’s voice, albeit soft, manages to drown out the sounds that had been ringing in thomas’s ears.

thomas nods, unable to look him in the eye.

and still he tries. alex tries to get him to look up at him, to give him some solid confirmation that he’s okay, that this is just another night of the usual. a moment passes before he gives up, glancing away.

“alright.”

shifting back and tugging the hem of his shirt back down, he swings his legs over the side of the bed, his head heavy on his shoulders. “i should go take that shower now, then, and we can get some rest.”

thomas struggles to keep his breathing steady, his eyes still fixated on one crease in the bedsheets. not really looking at it, not processing anything he’s seeing, his thoughts spinning. and he has to face it. the fact of the matter is it hurts more to watch alex turn away, to watch him leave, than it does to keep going back and forth within his tireless mind. and that means something.

that means something.

ever since he’d spent that first night with him after so long, there had been so many unanswered questions and lingering tensions between them. there was still such a long way to go before things were quite the way they were before all that had happened. and of course things would never be exactly the same; that wasn’t possible. but it didn’t mean they couldn’t try.

it didn’t mean he couldn’t try.

“you don’t have to.”

his voice is quiet, and he barely recognizes it as his own; the words don’t register as they are said. his mouth feels numb. but he knows what he said, and he knows what it means. and it feels right.

alex stops dead in his tracks. thinking for a moment that he must have misheard him. his heart seems to drop to his feet, and he turns back, finally meeting thomas’s eyes.

“are you sure?” he asks cautiously, brushing his hair from his face. watching every expression on thomas’s face, searching for any sign of reluctance. of second thoughts.

thomas takes a second, then nods. “you’re everything to me.” he doesn’t know how to put this; all words fail. “i needed time. and i know things aren’t perfect yet, but being back with you, it’s— i’m—”

his voice breaks off, and he takes a breath, composing himself.

“i’m sure.”

alex takes a step forward. “i love you. so much. i don’t want to hurt you.” he takes a deep breath, moving back onto the bed, reaching forward tentatively before cupping one side of thomas’s face in his hand. “if this gets to be too much for you, please tell me.”

thomas nods again, his breathing slowing in a wash of relief, wrapping his arms loosely around alex’s neck.

“i love you, too.”

the kiss that follows is slow, careful, loving. as is everything subsequent to it. every second of that night.

and by the end of it, as the two drift off to sleep tangled up in each other’s arms with the sheets pushed down to their feet, the room feels peaceful.

there’s no other word for it. the tension that once weighed them down with the coming of the night is gone. it’s as close to starting over as possible.

it’s peaceful.