Unhidden

Chapter Five-Andre

The front door was already open.

I barely had time to step inside before I saw him.

Jamal.

Standing in my living room.

Wearing one of my shirts.

My f*****g shirt.

It hung loosely on him, the sleeves falling just past his shoulders, and for a second I simply stood there staring.

Fourteen days.

Fourteen damn days without seeing him.

And now he was standing in my house looking that f*****g cute.

Something inside me snapped.

“Jamal.”

His head turned.

“Dre—”

I crossed the room before he could finish.

My hands went to him, one settling gently at the back of his neck as I pulled him toward me, and then I kissed him.

Deep.

Desperate.

Fourteen days of missing him poured into that one kiss.

Jamal made a soft sound against my mouth, his hands grabbing onto my shoulders as I pulled him closer.

God.

I missed this.

I missed him.

I missed the way he felt in my arms. The way he kissed me back. The way everything else disappeared whenever we were together.

I lifted him off the floor, and Jamal wrapped his arms around me, laughing softly between kisses.

“Dre—”

“Don’t.”

I kissed him again.

“Just let me have you for a minute.”

And somehow, that minute became hours.

Everything after that blurred into warmth, kisses, whispered words, and the kind of closeness I had been starving for.

When it was finally quiet again, we lay tangled together beneath the sheets.

My breathing had slowed.

Jamal was lying beside me, his head close to my chest.

My fingers moved lazily through his hair.

I couldn’t stop touching him.

I didn’t want to.

I had spent fourteen days without this.

Fourteen days without holding him.

Without kissing him.

Without having him beside me.

“I missed you,” I whispered.

Jamal was quiet.

I brushed my fingers through his hair again.

“I really f*****g missed you, baby.”

“I know.”

I smiled faintly.

“No, you don’t.”

He turned his head toward me.

“I do.”

I looked at him.

His eyes were soft.

Beautiful.

Too beautiful.

I kissed his forehead.

“I missed waking up beside you.”

Jamal swallowed.

“And I missed having you here.”

I smiled.

For a moment, everything felt right.

Then Jamal moved.

I felt the mattress shift.

I frowned.

“Baby?”

He sat up.

“What are you doing?”

He reached for his clothes.

My smile disappeared.

“Jamal.”

He didn’t answer.

He pulled his shirt on.

“Baby, what are you doing?”

“I just came to see you.”

I stared at him.

“And?”

“And I need to go.”

Something inside me went completely still.

“What?”

“Dre, I need to—”

“f**k this.”

He froze.

I sat up.

“No. I mean it. f**k this.”

“Andre—”

“Jamal?”

He looked at me.

“What do you take me for?”

His expression changed.

“Dre—”

“What exactly do you take me for?”

“I don’t—”

“I’ve missed you for fourteen f*****g days.”

My voice cracked with everything I had been holding inside.

“Fourteen days, Jamal.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t.”

I got out of bed.

“You came here. We had a beautiful moment. You held me. You kissed me. You finally stayed long enough for me to feel like I actually had my boyfriend back.”

I shook my head.

“And now you’re packing your s**t?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

I laughed bitterly.

“That’s all you have?”

“Dre, I have to go.”

“What is wrong with you?”

He looked down.

“What is wrong with you, baby?”

“I need to work.”

“You always need to work.”

He didn’t answer.

“You never let us have anything.”

I stared at him.

“Never.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Not fair?”

I stepped closer.

“I spend fourteen days missing you, and when you finally come here, you already have one foot out the door.”

“dre—”

“Don’t Dre me.”

He stopped.

“Please don’t call me Dre.”

His eyes softened.

I shook my head.

“No sweet talk. No amount of sweetness coming out of your mouth is going to get you out of this.”

“Baby—”

“What the hell, Jamal?”

My voice was firm now.

“Baby, I’ve missed you for fourteen days. At least spend the f*****g night.”

He looked at me.

“Stay until morning.”

Silence.

“Tomorrow morning, you can grab your things and tell me you’re leaving.”

I pointed toward the bed.

“But what is this?”

His eyes dropped.

“Jamal, what is this?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to stop running.”

That finally made him look at me.

I could see the conflict in his face.

I knew there was something behind those eyes.

Something he wasn’t telling me.

And that made everything hurt even more.

“What do you take me for?” I asked quietly.

He said nothing.

“Not because I love you means you can do whatever you want to me.”

His lips parted.

“I love you too.”

“I know.”

I swallowed.

“That doesn’t make this okay.”

He looked away.

I took a breath.

Then I pointed toward the bed.

“Get back in bed.”

“Andre—”

“I mean it.”

He hesitated.

“Jamal.”

My voice dropped into a firm tone.

“Get back in bed.”

He stared at me for a few seconds.

Then, slowly, he put his things down.

He climbed back into bed and pulled the covers over himself.

He turned away from me.

Quiet.

I stood there for a moment.

My anger was still burning.

But underneath it was something else.

Fear.

Fear that if I let him walk out again, I would spend another fourteen days wondering when I would see him.

So I climbed into bed behind him.

I wrapped my arms around his waist and pulled him against my chest.

He was tense at first.

Then he slowly relaxed.

“But, Dre…”

“Jamal.”

I held him tighter.

“I need you to go to bed.”

Silence.

“Baby, I need you to sleep now.”

He sighed.

“I have work tomorrow.”

“So do I.”

“Dre…”

“I’m not joking.”

My voice was firm.

I normally hated talking to him like this.

I didn’t want to be the man who had to demand his boyfriend stay.

I wanted Jamal to want to stay.

That was the part that hurt.

But sometimes Jamal tested every boundary I had.

He pushed.

And pushed.

And pushed.

Until eventually I had nothing left.

I pressed my face against the back of his head.

“Just stay tonight.”

His breathing slowed.

I kissed his hair.

“I need you here.”

He didn’t answer.

But he didn’t move away either.

So I closed my eyes.

My arms remained wrapped around him.

For tonight, that was enough.

Tomorrow, we’d have the conversation we had been avoiding.

Because loving Jamal wasn’t the problem.

Losing pieces of myself while loving him was.

And I was finally starting to understand that I couldn’t keep pretending it didn’t hurt.