CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: the eleventh day

Corey had been staying at Dorian's house for over a week now. Eleven days to be exact.

At the news that Dorian's Mum had been enrolled in a ninety day rehabilitation program, Dorian began making her bedroom into his, turning it into a place where he didn't have to feel like an intruder. Corey told him a million times to just sleep in his own room but he wanted to make his guest as comfortable as possible. One wrong move and Corey could decide to return to his abusive Father. Dorian wasn't going to let that happen.

Corey still hadn't been home, not even to collect his stuff. He was living in Dorian's clothes, using his things, eating his food, living life alongside him. Both boys loved it, but as always, neither said a word. They were living in bliss and frustration. Both wanted more, neither were brave enough to ask for it.

Corey was also smiling more since he'd been staying with Dorian. It wasn't constant or even regular, but it happened. It was hardly a rare occasion anymore, not like the first couple of times.

Dorian was making breakfast one Saturday morning, on the eleventh day of Corey's stay, when things changed.

Corey was propped up on the counter, a mug of steaming coffee held between his small hands. He was wearing a pair of boxers and one of Dorian's jumpers. It was so loose on him, it slipped to expose his naked collarbones and smooth shoulders. But that was nothing compared to what Dorian was wearing, which was practically nothing. Since his Mum had left, he'd fallen into the habit of lounging around the house shirtless and semi naked. All he wore right now were his boxers, and it was driving Corey crazy.

His taut muscles and toned abs were on full display, his bulging biceps twitching as he flipped the pancakes in the pan. His silky black hair dipped into his dark eyes as swear words continuously fell from between his soft lips when he poured too much batter into the pan. The scene was so domesticated and tame, and yet, it was captured in this very moment that the dynamic between the boys shifted forever.

"You're burning it." Corey pointed out, placing his mug onto the counter beside him.

Dorian glanced up, his eyes locking with Corey's beautiful green ones.

And he kissed him.

Just like that.

Corey was frozen in place as Dorian's lips connected with his; the very lips he had been thinking about for weeks now. It was light and gentle, barely a graze. Dorian was hesitant before Corey wrapped his arms around the back of his neck and pulled him in.

Dorian sighed in content, his fingers knotting into Corey's frizzy blond locks, all his senses heightening at the feeling. Corey's lips were as soft as butter and as warm as the coffee on his breath. He was in total bliss. He wasn't thinking about what would happen when the kiss ended, what they would say to each other, how they would act. Because right now, in this moment, on Saturday morning of the eleventh day, Corey's lips were all that mattered.

It was a bundle of overwhelming emotions; merging and fusing, their desires amalgamating and their lust growing. Corey's brain was a fog of blurry cravings and all he could really focus on were Dorian's lips. His kiss, so rough yet so gentle. So hard yet so soft. So fucking amazing and so utterly terrifying.

Dorian was stood between the smaller boy's legs, tasting as much of him as he could before the beautiful moment came crashing down. His fingers were on Corey's scolding skin, his pulse throbbing erratically beneath the surface. Before they knew it, the kiss had become rough and desperate and greedy. They kissed each other with everything they had, pouring their heart and soul into it.

Dorian's tongue was exploring Corey's sweet mouth, his hands drifting to trace his hipbones sensually. Corey let out a light moan as Dorian's sharp teeth clamped down on his lower lip playfully, pulling a gasp from the boy. At the sound of Corey's wordless approval, Dorian only grew hungrier.

It was the smell of smoke and the sound of sizzling which finally forced the boys apart.

"You burnt it." Corey whispered, the taste of Dorian's breath still lingering on his tastebuds.

Dorian quickly took the pan off the heat and turned the hob down. He analysed Corey's expression nervously, attempting to work out what was going through his mind. But Corey wasn't giving anything away; all he could see were swollen lips, pink cheeks and scruffy hair. The silence of the kitchen suddenly felt a whole lot heavier, and the tension between them grew still and awkward.

"Corey—"

"I get it, Dorian. You don't need to explain." Corey blurted out clumsily. He hopped down from the kitchen counter and the height difference between them became blindingly noticeable.

Corey poured his remaining — now cold — coffee down the sink and placed his mug in the dishwasher. Dorian just watched him, completely dumbfounded. When Corey went to leave the kitchen, he grabbed his arm and pulled him back, "Corey, we need to talk about this—"

"We really don't." Corey said softly, his eyes gentle and understanding. "It's okay." He whispered, trying to tug his arm out of Dorian's grip.

"I want to be with you."

Corey froze, his heartbeat picking up, his eyes turning to marbles. "No, you don't." He murmured so quietly, he could barely hear the words over the sound of his blood racing and heart pounding.

Dorian let his grip on Corey's arm slip as he placed both hands on his shoulders, forcing him to look at him. "I do. I like you."

"Will you just stop?" Corey snapped. He didn't sound angry as he rose his eyes to meet Dorian's — he sounded hurt and pained. "I'm not just something you can play with, Dorian. I'm not prepared to ruin what we have just so you can experience fucking a boy instead of a girl for once."

"Do you seriously think that's all you are to me?" Dorian flinched at his harsh words, his grasp on Corey's shoulders subconsciously tightening.

"Since when have you been gay, or bi, or whatever you think you are?"

"I don't know." Dorian mumbled. "I don't think I'm any of those things. All I know is that I'm happy when I'm with you."

"There's a difference between being happy with someone and wanting to date them." Corey pointed out, shrugging out of Dorian's grip and taking a defensive step back.

"I want to date you." Dorian said firmly, confidently. "Why is that so hard for you to believe?"

"Because no one wants to date me! Especially not you. Not someone who can do so much better."

"Will you stop that?" Dorian snapped. "Stop punishing yourself, thinking you don't deserve to be happy when you do!"

"And you think you can make me happy?" Corey scoffed, raising his brows incredulously.

"Yeah, I can try!"

"Dorian." Corey sighed. "We're not compatible, not really." It killed Corey to do this, but he had no other choice. His crush on Dorian had always been just that; a crush. Never in a million years had he expected Dorian to feel the same way about him.

Sure, he liked him, but that was different than actually being with him. He thought Dorian was attractive, and kind, and perceptive, and thoughtful, and curious, and the perfect distraction from Corey's messy life. Dorian was one of the few permanent distractions, not a temporary one. But all those things had purely tricked him into falling for Dorian; Who wouldn't fancy someone like that? When he forced himself to think about it logically, everything fell apart.

Logically, he knew he couldn't be with Dorian. He wasn't into boys and he definitely wasn't into Corey. Maybe he thought he was but that would pass just as quickly as it came and soon, he would move on, leaving Corey broken and helpless. Not to mention that it would completely destroy any current relationship they had. Corey wouldn't be able to stay at Dorian's house any longer, that's for sure. In fact, the two boys would probably never speak again. That would completely crush Corey.

But there was another part of him, a smaller part, that was screaming out for him to believe Dorian's promises and persuasions. This was one of the few situations in life where logical thinking could be thrown out the window. He should follow his gut, his heart, his instinct. Corey liked Dorian and Dorian liked Corey, it made sense for them to be together. He needed to stop doubting — doubting himself, doubting Dorian, doubting his own instinct. Maybe he should just go for it.

"Who cares if we're not compatible?" Dorian's humble voice yanked Corey out of his conflicting train of thought. "Look at Beau and Micah. They're happy."

"We're not them." Corey countered, taking another step back, "Look, Dorian, I need to...I need to go." He had to leave before he did anything stupid, said anything he'd regret, make a decision that would only tear him apart somewhere further down the line.

"Corey, please, just—"

"No. No, don't say anything else. Please, just...don't say anything else." Corey begged, spinning on his heels and ascending the staircase rapidly.

Dorian fought every instinct telling him to follow Corey. He had to give him time, he needed to let Corey make his own decision, unclouded by anything Dorian told him. Although it killed him to do so, he had to accept to Corey might not want to be with him.

It wasn't long before Corey returned to the kitchen, fully dressed with his backpack hanging from his shoulders, "I'm going out." He said quietly. Then he did something completely unexpected; he rushed forward and flung his arms around Dorian, hugging him tightly. Dorian was frozen, accepting the hug with wide eyes before he finally wrapped his arms around the smaller boy and held him close to his chest. When Corey pulled away, his eyes fell to the floor and his cheeks heated up in embarrassment, "See you later." He fumbled out of the kitchen and out the door before Dorian could even gather his thoughts.

"Fuck." Dorian muttered. "More pancakes for me, I guess."