Page 78 of Except You

We kiss for ages, our skin abraded, our tongues sore, our breathing melding into one. Beau comes twice from just grinding against me, and I tease him about it until he shuts me up with another long-drawn-out kiss. We do this over and over until the dark sky turns gray. It’s only then that we pull apart and the two of us fall asleep for a few hours before the alarm on my phone chimes and we roll out of bed and get ready for the day. And even though I feel like I’m slogging through a fog, I also feel excited and nervous. What does this mean? What does this fucking mean? Who am I anymore?

I walked into that gay bar trying to understand Magnus, and here I am with Beau, kissing him, sleeping with him.

Needing him.

And I do. I need Beau more than I need anyone else.

I run a hand through my hair and accidentally tap my face in the process. It throbs slightly, but at the same time, I’m so hopped up on excitement, almost like I drank too much caffeine, that I don’t feel it like I should.

It’s why I decide not to call out of work. Part of me thinks that it will help pass the time quicker, so that before I know it, Beau will be back in my arms.

I’m halfway through work, shifting in my seat, patting Doggo’s head, and trying to focus, when it hits me. The panic. Within seconds, I lose the ability to breathe. My gaze grows hazy, and I try to inhale deeply. It doesn’t work. That never works. I shuffle to the small loveseat in my office and put my head between my legs and try to regulate my breathing. Doggo is concerned, his wet nose hitting my cheek, but I just gently push him away, needing to not be crowded right now.

It doesn’t work. Nothing works. It only gets worse.

Everything is too much. My mind flashes with images of Beau. The mutual jack off sessions, the touching, the kissing. The obsession with another man.

Am I gay?

I must be fucking gay to want him this much.

Oh fuck. Fuck.

I punched my brother. I kicked him out of my house. I chose Bow-tie over my flesh and blood.

God. Oh god.

I’m full-on mid-panic attack and a minor existential crisis, when my phone rings, the loud ringtone making my ears bleed. Doggo barks and then runs from the room, returning a moment later with a shoe.

I huff a small laugh, realizing the absurdity of it, but my laugh dies when I see who’s calling.

It’s Magnus on a video call.

Dammit. I can’t not answer. This is a chance I can’t miss. So I do the only thing I can. I swipe the screen and put the phone near my face.

“Hey,” I gasp, and Magnus’s eye twitches.

“Max, what the hell? Oh my god, your face! Why is it like that?” I let out a panicked wheeze and his tone changes. “Oh. Ooooh. Are you having a panic attack?”

I swallow and manage a small nod.

Magnus sighs and then bobs his head. “Hold on. I have to hide from the kids. Sem! Sem, I need a few minutes. Can you grab Lucy from me? Kieran, go to Daddy. Yes, Daddy. No, he will not blow something up. Sem, do not blow anything up or there will be consequences…”

I hear a low grumble and then the phone shakes, Lucy obviously being pulled from Magnus’s arms. I’m so pissed this is happening when Magnus is finally calling me, when I could be chatting happily with my niece and nephew. And here I am, wheezing, about to pass out, my heart rate through the roof.

“Alright. On the ground, Max. You know the drill.”

I do. He’s helped me through so many of these growing up. I sink down on the ground, my back to the couch, and listen as he tells me to put my head between my legs. And then we count, talking about what I can see, what I can feel, what I can taste.

“Beau,” I say. I can still taste him on my lips.

Magnus doesn’t comment on that though, just walks me through my attack until I can finally breathe again. When my sight becomes normal once more, Magnus grins at me from the phone.

“There. We did it.”

I give him a shaky nod. “Yeah. We did. Thank you.”

“Anytime.”