Kiss Me Tenderly

The screen of Alex’s phone lit up. Again.
The sixteenth message blinked across the screen and I ground my teeth together. My growl of almost sheer irritation sounded from my throat and Alex shot a worried look at me from the floor, a dump truck in one hand, a Raggedy Ann doll in the other. I was chewing my cheek to pieces, my eyes flying nervously from Alex to his phone, to Owen. Things were tumbling around in my brain, worries flying, so many, I felt I was going to fly to pieces.
What did the picture mean?
Did they have something?..
No. That can’t be it.
Then what? Was he scheming to come back and take Alex? What about Owen? What would he do to Owen? God, I swear, if he tries to hurt either of them, I will murder him. Who does he think he i-
I was interrupted by the light touch of Alex’s fingers against my cheek, his eyes wide under the fringe of his hair. He cocked his head slightly and his eyes echoed a question, you okay? Shaking my head, I pulled him close and touched my lips to his, trying to convey that I was just worried and needed him close. Alex pulled away, set the doll and the truck on the floor where the kids were carousing and crawled into my lap.
His hand made it’s way up to my cheek, cupping it and thumbing my cheekbone.
“Don’t worry, it’ll be okay,” his whisper meant for me only. “He’s a douchebag and he’ll get what’s coming to him. I will never go back to him, I have you now.” A pretty pink blush stained his cheeks when I looked at him with surprise.
“Oh so you have me now, do you?” I teased him, wrapping my arms around his waist, pressing our foreheads together and rubbed our noses lightly. Alex tossed his arm around my neck and grinned.
“If you’ll have me, that is,”a sweet smile, a peek of white teeth.
“Of course. Be my boyfriend?” I already knew the answer but I wanted to hear him say it. Alex nodded furiously, dark hair flopping into his eyes, blushing even harder.
We sealed the deal with a kiss, snow still falling quietly outside the window, the children playing quietly on the floor. Perfection.
---------------------------------------------------
It was night. I had already called Rhonda, told her that I wasn’t going to be in tomorrow either because the snow didn’t seem to be letting up any time soon, received more than enough shit I really should have for it. Alex and I had put the kids to bed in a blanket fort, had taken all of the chairs from my small dining room and covered them with the copious amount of blankets we had hidden all over the house. We had lay next to them for two and a half hours, telling stories, making shadow animal hands at them. Lots of giggling and kisses and singing and love.
When the kids finally fell asleep, Alex and I headed upstairs to my room. The moment I felt Alex’s fingers hooking into the waistband of my shorts, I knew that he had every intent of finishing what we had started this morning. I felt the touch of his lips against the back of my neck, the warm puff of his laugh warming my skin, my blood quickening in my veins. My door was pushed closed by both our hands, a messy tangle of arms and legs. We crossed the room quickly, tumbled onto my bed inelegantly, Alex laughing in my arms where he had ended up, gently rubbing our arousals together.
“Are we going to get this show on the road or what.”
Alex reached up to me, tugging my face back down to his. A flare of nervousness shot through my body but was quickly overshadowed arousal caused by Alex lightly tugging on my lip with his teeth. His fingers found it’s way to the hem of my shirt, tugging upwards, exposing my stomach. We detatched our lips for the shortest possible amount of time, just enough for me to yank my shirt off and resume nibbling on his lower lip. Alex moaned against my mouth and set to working my boxers down my hips, no preamble, no teasing, just down, down, down they went. My boxers were pushed down to about mid thigh, Alex’s fingers wrapping around my length. I groaned sharply into his mouth. Damn, the first intimate touch in about three years and I was already as worked up as a teenager on prom night.
I reached for the hem of his shirt (my shirt, really) and attempted to pull it up and off of him but Alex let out a noise of discontent, pushing my hands back.
I pulled away from his lips and looked at him worriedly.
“What’s wrong, ‘Lex?” I said quietly, running my fingers across his hipbones, my new favorite spot on his body.
He shook his head, answering that it was nothing, not to worry about it.
“Well, obviously it really is something if you won’t let me worship every inch of your body, sweet thing.” I just wanted to understand what he was hiding from me.
Alex shook his head, ducking down. “If you saw it, you wouldn’t want me as much as you think you do.”
My eyes widened in shock and horror. “What? Alex, I’ll want you, however you look, if you have eight nipples or no belly button or an embarrassing tattoo or whatever. I don’t care. I just want to make you feel beautiful.” My lips found their way to his forehead, a gossamer touch to reiterate the statement I made.
He hesitated in my arms, his lips screwing up in the corner, debating.
“Promise you won’t judge me?” it was a quiet, soft sound in the room, full of sadness and a hint of desperation.
“I would never,” I assured him, somehow wanting to prove my sincerity.
Alex sat up, still straddling my hips, fingers gripping the edge of his shirt hesitantly before tearing it away.
The sight that greeted me almost made me want to cry.
In the glow of the bedside lamp, I saw scars. Long scars, a shade darker than his skin tone crisscrossed the smooth expanse, marking his beautiful body. Up and down his ribs were small dark warped scars, perfect circles perforating tanned planes. I reached up wordlessly to touch them but he backed away. His eyes glowing in the dull light, a deer in headlights, he said, “Don’t freak out.”
And he slid off the bed, eyes still locked on mine, and slowly rotated so his back was towards me.
If I had wanted to cry before, I was completely broken now.
His back was exactly like his front except much, much worse. The scars were deeper, there were more of the circular scars. It was clear that these weren’t self harm scars, these were something that ran much deeper, something that housed a terrible story.
I choked back the pain, got off the bed and hugged him from behind.
Tears were falling silently and steadily from Alex’s eyelashes, slipping off his cheeks, and splashed on my arms where they were crossed over his chest. I shushed him, rocking us back and forth, holding him tight against my chest. After a few seconds, Alex turned around in my arms, threw his arms around my neck and cried. Tears made their salty way down my neck, across my collarbone, streaked down my chest.
I traced one of the circular marks and suddenly, it hit me like a ton of bricks.
Nick did this.
“Did he do this to you?” My voice was eerily calm, though I was shaking with rage inside.
I felt Alex’s head nod a quick yes into my shoulder.
I’m going to fucking murder him, consequences be damned.
There was silence as I stood there rubbing his back, pressing occasional kisses to his hair.
“Don’t I disgust you?” His quiet question hung in the air, supported by the shaky sound of insecurity lacing his tone.
Pulling away, I made sure to make direct eye contact with the trembling man in my arms.
“Alex, there’s no way you could ever disgust me. I find you perfect in every way.”
“But.. I’m covered in scars. Aren’t the at least a little off putting? To know that someone desecrated my body like this? Aren’t you disgusted to touch something so fil-” I put my hand over his lips to stop the flow of words that I couldn’t bear to hear come from him.
“Alex, it’s not your body I like, it’s your heart and soul, your kindness. It’s the way you smile at Owen when you think no one’s looking. I love your outside because I love your inside. Okay? Won’t you let me show you?”
Alex looked up at me, tear stained face confused.
“Lay belly down on the bed.”
He clambered on, tilting his face to look at me.
“J-Jack, what are yo-”
“Shhhh, I’m just going to do something okay?” He fell silent as I climbed onto the bed, hovering over his body. A pang of hurt shook my body, my heart clenching when the scars were thrown into greater relief, the shadows and valleys of Alex’s shoulder blades, the bumps of his spine haunting little ghosts spreading across his back. I leaned down and pressed a kiss to one of the most prominent scars, a deep tear that extended from his spine, across his shoulder blade, terminating about half way across the bone. I was fighting back tears as I kissed every single little scar on his body and when I nudged him to roll over so I could lavish love on his front side, I saw he was crying too. I crawled back up his body, tenderly placing a kiss upon his lips before slipping down to press love all over his scars.
After I was done, I pulled myself back up to be at eye level with Alex. Tears still streaming down his face, he stared up at me. I lowered my lips onto his, kissed him slowly, gently. Tenderly. With every gentle brush of our lips, I tried to convey how much he meant to me, how it hurt me to see him so hurt, that I really loved liked him.
Eventually, Alex’s tears stopped flowing and his hands crept up to rest on my shoulders, his lips kissing back with a building sense of ferocity. The heat started to build, not a snapping dragon fire like before but a slow burning furnace. Fingers tangled in hair, Alex’s leg ended up hitched over my hip, soft pants falling from our lips. My fingers drifted down to the waistband of Alex’s boxers, hesitant.
“This okay?” I whispered against his lips, drinking in his beauty. Soft black eyelashes fluttering across his cheeks, plush pink lips letting out quiet shaky breaths as Alex shook his head yes.
I slipped my fingers underneath the elastic, pulled it down unhurriedly, Alex lifting his hips slightly to make the job easier on me. Taking both our lengths in my hand, I stroked us into a furious crescendo, watching Alex the entire time, memorizing his labored breathing. I watched him arch his back, body writhing beneath mine, his lips fall apart in pure pleasure, heard his sharp keening moan of delirium when he came hot, white, and sticky across his chest. I groaned deep my own throat as I followed suit, not seconds later.
I returned my lips to his, kissing him, this big, expanding feeling in my chest wanting to pour out of me and into that one piece of contact.
What could this feeling be? I’ve been puzzling over it for ages and I could never figure it out.
Oh yeah.
Love, ya nitwit.