Fluff

THIRTY-THREE: when you go on your second date.

"Julian, we have to talk about this..." It was Wednesday: officially three days since I'd dropped the bomb about moving back home and I'd been avoiding Paul's questioning like the plague. We were getting ready for a date. I'd brought it up the night before to escape the queries like a virgin escaping an orgy and we'd been laying in his bed, watching Orange is the New Black and whereas Paul was in it for the storyline, I had to fake a shit halfway through to handle the rise in my pants.

Safe to say, it was eventful.

Now Paul was picking a shirt in his closet and he'd poked his curly head out to look out at me and suggest a talk.

And sure, I wanted to talk to him about it, absolutely, but there was this mindset is often learned to place myself in where if I don't mention it, it's fine and I'm okay. My heart felt heavy and I never wanted to stand up nowadays but it was fine and I was okay.

"Forget it, Paul, I was just overwhelmed." And it wasn't exactly a lie. I'd been extremely overwhelmed and my father's doubt had found its way to increase mine. But no, it was fine and I was okay. I was okay with Paul there and although I fell apart when I was alone, I could handle it.

It wasn't that deep.

"It's your life, Jules. You have a right to live it how you want to."

"Paul, really—"

But he was already next to me, he was brushing off my shoulders, massaging them gently before holding my biceps. And he was catching my eyes with that gentle smile of his."I'm not gonna have feelings about you deciding what's best for yourself."

When I looked up, his eyes were on me, waiting... He was patient with his words, always giving me a supportive front and I always took him for granted.

"Look. We can talk about it or we can just watch a movie or something... I want you to know that you don't have to leave... and you don't have to stay."

"I wanna stay."

He smiled, it small and so full in deep brows. And he was chuckling softly to himself.

Instead of responding, he'd kissed me.

Paul took my face in his hands and tugged me close. He skin was warm, always was, he had this depth to him that made you feel so... comfortable.

My heart rate slowed.

Softly, he brushed his lips against mine.

And he kissed me so softly. Once. Twice, harder than the last. He kisses my nose.

And then my lips again, he's resting his forehead against mine. "You're always welcome here, okay?"

It's too sincere.

My heart rate quickens, a gentle thrum of energy compresses my vocal chords. Paul kisses me again and he's reaching for the hem of my shirt. "I want you..."

He's kissing down my neck now. Fingertips brush against my waist, over the waistband and taps the skin there. He's resting a hand in the small of my back, warm skin on mine and warming me to the touch.

Too much. It's much too intimate. Too fast.

Electricity shoots through my body and I lurch back, his lips slightly puckered.

"Are you ready?" I'd asked once I was done with trying and I'd leaned closer to take his hand in mine. I was being an ass but it felt easier to hide from my problems than face them, at least, while I still could.

"Yeah," biting his bottom lip, he forced a small smile that made me die a little inside, "Julian, where are we going?"

And again, I felt like a horrible boyfriend. I was upsetting him, I was making him exhausted and that scared me so I put on my best smile and tangled my hand with his, "I wanted to go down to the trampoline place, I know it's not really the best second date choice and it's kinda childish but I just want to be with you for a bit."

"I'd like that." There was a small smile on his face, sort of like the one I loved and I felt better.

"Wear your glasses." I'd called this out as he opened the drawer to grab his contacts and he'd stopped. Paul's glasses were one of my favorite things and I wanted to see them more. Yeah, his eyes were beautiful and I could see them better without the cover but he didn't always seem the most comfortable with his contacts in and his eyes would water from time to time.

"Why?" He'd asked, lips turned down in a frown as he clasped the case in his hand. I had a hard time focusing on anything other than the way his long fingers flexed and the tattoo making his ten times sexier but I managed to shrug.

"Why're you putting your contacts in?"

"I look better without glasses." Lies, he was so fucking lying because Paul looked amazing regardless and his cuteness was only amped up by the glasses.

"But don't they get itchy?"

"Why're you so against me wearing them?" He'd chuckled but nodded, placing the case back in the drawer before closing it and turning around. Paul motioned for me to grab his glasses to which I obliged and scooted closer, his hands settling on my hips as I placed the frames on his face.

The tip of his thumb had grazed the skin on my waist and I had to hold back a shiver. Paul was so ugh. "I don't know, I really like your glasses."

"Okay." Letting me go, Paul slid his hands into mine and pulled them to his lips, placing soft kisses on the knuckles and my heartbeat quickened. Leaning into him, I'd pecked his lips before turning so I was facing the mirror.

He twined his hands with mine, resting his chin on my shoulder, "We look nice."

And there was a smile on his face as he nodded at my statement, rebutting with a "You look handsome."

And I tried to hide the blush on my cheeks, failing but for once I didn't care. "C'mon, we're gonna be late."

: : :

Paul had bought everything. The wristbands, the snacks, the fucking waters and all I could do was watch because he'd taken my wallet from me before we got into the car. Apparently he remembered that I was adamant about paying and decided to make it impossible so I had to feel bad as he spoiled me and the only thing I could do was glare.

I was gonna get him back for this; I was gonna get him back and then I was definitely going to pay for our next two dates.

But then I realized I had no job. I really needed to get a job.

"I can't believe you." I'd groaned out as he'd helped me place my green wristband on myself and he needed up taking over, clasping it and lingering before pulling his hand away. I missed the feeling of his hands in mine.

"I can't believe it's not butter," he joked and I rolled my eyes. Paul's jokes were worse than my dad's and on a normal day, I'd have kissed him to shut him up but we were in public.

I'd settled for a gentle shove of the shoulder, "Shut up." And my face lit up at the laugh he let out.

God, I was lucky.

"It smells like popcorn." He commented as I'd helped him slip his wristband on and had to resist the urge of locking his fingers in mine or staring at him with too much affection.

"Are you sure it's not you? You always smell like popcorn, babe." I laughed at the unimpressed look on his face, Paul had mentioned before that popcorn was his favorite food and I was sure the boxes and boxes in their kitchen cabinet had everything to do with it.

"Shut up."

I'd been feeling better, I really did and I barely noticed when he'd slipped his hand in mine. With no one in the hallway leading to a little area in the back, we didn't have to be as cautious but I still felt really bad when Paul pulled away, soft smile on his lips. Giving him a remorseful look, I watched as the straight couple rounded our corner, keeping my hands to myself. They looked familiar, maybe I'd seen them around school before and that would've been a really bad situation if they saw me with Paul.

"When is that not gonna bug you anymore?" He'd asked once they were gone and we'd settled on walking a bit closer, his arm barely brushing mine. I could tell from the frown on his face that it was affecting him more and more the more I hid him and shit, my heart hurt so I replied with more conviction.

"I'm working on it." And I really was.

"Okay."

Still, I felt the need to assure him that I'd get over it. I had to get over it. "It's not always gonna be like this, I promise. You're too special to hide."

He smiled as we made it into a private room, not so much a private room it no one was there at the moment so... "I think you're special too."

I couldn't get the grin off my face as I lent over to take my shoes off, placing them inside my bag and Paul had done the same. He put the snacks to the side before kissing my cheek gently and grabbing my hand to tug me over to the trampolines.

: : :

We'd been laying in his bed that day, after a deep make out session that had gotten a bit too sexual, he'd pulled his hand out of the back of my pants and we just laid down for a bit. As fun as dates were, I'd much rather lay with Paul and talk; we'd been talking a lot lately almost as much as we'd been kissing and I liked that.

"So wait, what? Lanny fell in the lake?" I'd had trouble controlling my laughing, falling back into Paul when he'd nodded. His arms were wrapped around me and his chest was shaking with his laughter, I wondered if life could get better than then.

Paul's eyes were on me when I turned back around, laughter still escaping and I started to sound a bit like a girl. I always hated my laugh but apparently Paul hadn't minded. "Like tripped right over his own feet during a vlog and almost ruined the camera."

"I thought you said he couldn't swim." I said recalling a few stories before when Paul mentioned something about them jokingly pushing Landon into the pool when they were in Cancun and Brandon having to pull him out so he didn't drown. Safe to say, Paul was a bit shaken up and he still shuddered at the memory.

"He can't," Paul shook his head, "Brandon had to fish him out and he made Lanny walk beside the car on the way back because he didn't want the seats wet."

"Shit." I laughed again, resting my head against his chest as he pulled the covers tighter around us. I didn't instead to get up anytime soon and apparently, Paul had the same idea.

"You're cute when you laugh." His voice was soft when he'd pulled me closer to him, lips on my forehead and I felt my heart swell. I'd wrapped my arms around his waist, holding him tighter because Paul was perfect and I couldn't help but think that this was a cruel dream that I never wanted to wake up from. If I had to wake up and he wasn't there, I didn't know what I would've done.

"You're cute all the time." I said instead, my forehead burning where he had last kissed and he'd gripped me tighter before letting go and pushing my chin up so he could place a soft kiss on my lips.

"Wanna help me out on my new piece?" He'd asked without moving from me and I could feel his smile against my lips. Of course I wanted to help him, he was adorable when he painted. I returned his smile, pecking him once before pulling away, still in a daze.

"The landscape one?" I'd inquired, lacing my hand in his as I backed up off the bed and went to go straight for his paints to set up. I'd realized he was working in oil paints for a few weeks and memorized which drawer was which. His oil painting supplies were in the bottom drawer, above it was acrylic, and at the top was watercolor. I'd only memorized it because he'd always bend down to get his oil paints and I found my eyes appreciating his ass.

"Yeah..." He trailed off when he noticed I was helping him set up and he went to grab his painting shirt, a plain black tee with so much paint, it looked like a galaxy had exploded. He bit his lip, holding another one in his hands and went to set up his easel before pulling a stool over and turning back to me.

"Take off your shirt." And I blushed.

Still, I wondered where he was going with this and my mind went to what we were doing before we started talking about our lives. I willed the hotness in my cheeks to go down and attempted to smirk. "Why don't you take it off yourself?"

It was his turn to turn red, "Shut up, I just don't want you to mess it up, this is oil." I felt stupid after he'd said that, of course he didn't want to continue and I was fucking stupid. Nodding, I pulled my shirt over my head and Paul must've noticed my mood change because he walked closer, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing me once my shirt was on his bed.

"I'd love to admire your body at anytime, you know that."

And I tried to so kissing him again, I nodded, pulling him over to the stool.

Placing a small kiss on my neck, he sat behind me, threading his hands through mine. I could feel his heart against my back as he leaned his chin on my shoulder and told me to pick up certain paints.

"Now, put a little more white..." I did so, twisting his palette knife as the mini table sat beside me and Paul attempted to keep his hands away and instead direct. It felt nice to share this with him and I forced myself not to think about Brandon maybe being in the same position. I tried my best to be the best and make him happy, "That's enough, mix it together until you get like a peachy color."

"These colors are pretty." I let out, absentmindedly as I admired the pinks, whites, and greens he was using on this piece. It had something to do with a field and it kind of looked like flowers but I wasn't quite sure about art and I didn't know if he considered this a good piece or not. I loved it.

"You're pretty." And I almost dropped the palette, my eyes going wide as Paul tried desperately to retract his words. There was a fear in his voice and I felt bad for putting it there. He didn't deserve it, he really didn't deserve it, "I'm sorry, it slipped, I know you don't like that."

I didn't want to blow up on him again so shutting my eyes, I suggested something I wasn't sure of.

"Call me that again?"

And he stopped breathing momentarily. Everything went quite when he released me a bit and I swear he was so confused, "What? Pretty?" My heart beat a little faster, trying to understand why that word had such an effect on me.

"Yeah." I was breathless.

Then, he held me tighter, placing his chin on my shoulder, "You look really pretty, babe."

My heart fluttered but inside, I was telling myself this was wrong. I was a boy, I wasn't pretty. "I'm trying to figure out why that bothers me so much."

"It's okay if you don't like it, Jules." His voice was calm and all I knew was I wanted it to happen again; I wanted him to say it again because I wanted to be okay with it. There was nothing wrong with my boyfriend giving me a slightly feminine compliment and I needed to be okay with that.

I nodded, showing him that I understood yet requested again, "Can you- can you..."

"Call you it again?" He asked, knowingly and I could feel him smile against my shoulder.

"Yeah."

"You are," placing a kiss on the fabric of the shirt I was wearing, Paul chuckled again before leaning up and kissing my cheek, "by far the prettiest guy I've ever dated."

And a smile graced my face at that, leaning back, I sighed in content. I didn't know what I was feeling or why I was feeling it but I knew Paul had me.

So I let him direct me further with paints, leaning back when he took over and started to paint. I smiled lazily at the concentration on his face and everything was turning out right.

: : :

"Happy birthday, Jules." Was the first thing I heard when I woke up the next day, my heart fluttering when I opened my eyes and saw Paul's cocoa brown ones staring back at me. The sun had yet to rise, or maybe it did but I wasn't aware of it as my world smiles down at me.

My voice was barely there when I smiled, languid limbs stretching out and joints popping as Paul pecked my cheek. "Happy birthday- I mean, morning."

"You're so cute in the mornings, you know that?"

"Shut up," But please don't, please never stop talking because you always make me feel better, "what time is it?"

He smiled, brushing my hair out of my eyes as he sat down on the bed beside me and lightly pulled the covers off my face. There was a laugh in his voice as he spoke soothingly and he leant down, kissing my cheek. "Six and I thought I'd make breakfast. I know you have school but after, we could do something special for your birthday, whatever you want."

"That sounds nice but we don't really have to do anything." Translation: I didn't want him to spend money on me. I wasn't that important and he needed to realize that.

But that idea seemed stupid to him and he stared at me like I was crazy. And then he began to list reasons why I should be excited. "It has to be special, you're eighteen. You're a man, you can vote and if you visit Europe, you can drink... You can get a tattoo without parental permission." But really, I'd never spent a birthday without Calum, we'd always go down to the clearing in the woods and ride our bikes around. I got to pick what we did and I always picked biking and then going to his house to play video games. Nascar was his favorite and I liked to see him smile so that became my favorite.

I blinked away the memories, shaking my head. Calum was gone, Calum hated me and I hated him. Paul was here, Paul was now.

Shrugging, I tried to push away the sadness and leave that for another day, "I don't know, we stopped celebrating birthdays at sixteen, I'm used to a card and maybe a cupcake." My dad always provided the cupcake, Jade the card, and my mother would bring me to the church and have a small get together which was more praise and worship that she never acknowledged me but said I had to be grateful to the lord and make this day about him because he sacrificed to get me here.

I kind of missed her.

Paul must've thought the look on my face was because I never celebrated my birthday so he gave me that same bright smile. Twining his hands with mine, he stood, "Well, I bought you a gift and a cake for later on tonight but first you have to get up and come eat."

"Paulllll." I didn't have to go to school, I could call in sick, or maybe the school would take pity on me since I'd been through so much shit the past month.

But he didn't take that as an answer and as soon as I'd pulled the blanket over my head, he tsked, taking it off gently, "I'm not letting you lay here and starve."

"C'mon, let's just make out for a bit."

He'd moved out of my grasp, "Nope."

"But it's my birthday." I whined, hoping that he'd cave as I rolled back over. Covering my face, I smiled when I felt Paul trying to take the covers from me.

And then he said something that had my heart jumping out of my chest, "Which is why I'm saving the best for last."

"You mean... It is legal now." Peaking my head out of the covers, I furrowed my brows. We could have sex, I was old enough for it to not be a problem. Was that what he wanted? I'd never done that before.

"No, we're not having sex yet. Even though it's legal now," he shook his head, sitting back down and placing his hand on my cheek. I knew it felt warm there and I knew I was blushing again but he didn't care, "I want to wait until we're in love, you know?"

To distract myself from the thoughts that maybe I was already in love, I smiled teasingly,"You sound really sappy and it's cute."

"You're cute."

Rolling over, I smiled to myself and scrunched my nose, burying my face in the pillow. I sighed dramatically,"Not cute enough to fuck though."

"Absolutely, positively cute enough to fuck but too precious to not make it meaningful." His words made me