They were both skirting around the topic of what had happened last night— which was both good and bad. Simon didn’t want to face the consequences of what had gone down, but they couldn’t just ignore it. A tiny— no, large— part of him ached to just pin Kaye down and kiss the living daylights out of him, but that couldn’t happen. Kaye wouldn’t want it. And he shouldn’t either.
“I slept fine too…” He swallowed. “Listen, about last night—“
"I…I'm sorry about that. I was drunk," Kaye started, cutting in as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. These were the words that Simon expected– that they probably wanted– but he couldn't help but feel guilty; he was lying after all. He had enjoyed the kiss, even if he was drunk, though he doubted Simon did as well.
He was.. sorry. Of course he was sorry— that was exactly the answer Simon had been expecting, and the answer he should have wanted. It was, after all, the reply he had just been about to give— but he couldn’t help but feel his heart plummet. He opened his mouth to agree, to say that they should move past it, but all that came out was “Oh.”
Kaye grimaced, realizing that it wasn't the best choice of words, especially proven by Simon's response. He wanted to say that he enjoyed the kiss, that he liked Simon, everything but what he had just said, but nothing came out. How was he supposed to say that when he doubted Simon would feel the same way? How was he supposed to say anything without doubting himself? Instead, the two remained in a turbulent silence, Kaye hoping that Simon would say something…anything.
Kaye remained silent, and Simon felt his heart crack open, just a little. “Right. Okay.” He hated how rough his voice came out, how hoarse. “Yeah. That— I thought so.” Shit. He felt something like tears sting his eyes. What had he been expecting? What on earth had he been expecting?
"Simon," Kaye started, though the words even stung him. He didn't know what to say, how to fix this, how to tell the truth. Just say the truth, goddamnit. It's not that hard, Kaye, he pleaded himself, but it felt like his throat was closing up and trapping his words, like he was underwater, lost in a silent haze. "I–" He started, but immediately faltered, a numb feeling beginning to start in his fingertips.
“I get it,” Simon cut in, physically unable to look at Kaye. “I fucked up. You didn’t want to do that.” The other man was silent, which only served to heighten his desperation and send whatever hopes he had left plummeting to the ground. “Just say it.”
"I– I can't say it, Simon. It's–," Kaye started, wringing his hands out in an almost desperate and panicked way. "Its– I…I wanted to do it," he finally choked out, though he doubted Simon would believe him. You fucked up. You fucked up so bad. At this point, he wouldn't mind if Simon made him leave– hell, he would completely understand why.
Simon’s eyes widened in shock and disbelief. “You.. you did?” His voice was barely above a whisper— he was adept at detecting lies, and Kaye’s distress showed that he was not. But it couldn’t be possible— there was no way.
"Yeah, I really did. I– I swear," Kaye answered, releasing a breathe that he didn't realize that he had been holding in. Was…Simon not mad anymore? He really hoped not, he couldn't deal with people being mad at him.
A bomb could have gone off in Simon’s bedroom right there and he would have been less surprised. “You—“ His brain short-circuited. “I—“ Shit. Swallowing, he forced himself to meet Kaye’s eyes and take the smallest step closer. “I’m glad we were drunk enough to do that.”
The smallest smile managed to break through on Kaye's features, and he found himself getting the tiniest bit closer as well. "I'm glad too," he started, tilting his head to the side. "But, y'know, we don't have to drunk to do that…" A tiny, almost flirty smile replacing his original one.
Simon’s heart skipped a beat. Almost before Kaye had finished his sentence, he had closed the distance between them and was crushing his mouth against the other man’s.
Kaye almost felt as if he were back in his drunk euphoria from last night, an airy feeling simply coming from one of Simon's kisses. He pressed himself against the other man, a hand coming up to press against their neck as he tilted his head to the side.
Simon pushed Kaye back against the wall, pushing down any doubts, any thoughts of pulling away, and getting to work on exploring every inch of the other man’s mouth. His one elbow was propped against the wall beside Kaye’s head, his other hand finding his shoulder, his waist, his jawline. The kiss was starving, ravenous, demanding, so much more focused than last night’s.
Kaye made a small noise when Simon pushed him against the wall, almost overwhelmed by where the other man's hands were brushing and how heated this kiss seemed to be. He ached to get closer to the other, even if they were practically already chest to chest, though all he could do was try and keep up, his chest already heaving.
The noise only added fuel to the fire already burning inside of him as he kissed Kaye harder, prompting his mouth open with experienced nudges of his own. And god, it felt so freeing— he didn’t think he’d ever be able to stop.
Kaye let his mouth fall open against Simon's, a warm, coiled feeling growing in his chest as the other continued to kiss him. He didn't think that this would be ending anytime soon and god– he really hoped it wouldn't. Kaye's hands that had been hanging by him uselessly were now placed on Simon's waist, brushing up and down the other man's sides as they continued.
Simon let out a soft noise of his own at the caresses, sliding his tongue over Kaye’s bottom lip as if asking for permission, however hard it was to restrain himself. This was what living felt like. This was how he used to feel, years ago, this was how he had the opportunity to feel now. A faint memory surfaced;a hazy one from the previous night, and Simon took advantage of it, murmuring into Kaye’s mouth. “I could get drunk off the taste of you..”
A soft groan escaped Kaye at Simon's familiar words and he let his lips part, pulling the other man closer by their waist. Nothing had quite felt the same with other people, other relationships he had been in, where the other person had never quite cared about him. With Simon, he felt safe, like he had a say in everything. His hands moved from Simon's waist up to the back of their neck, pressing them closer in an almost gentle way– which was out of character for him– except at this point it seemed like Simon had most of the reigns.
The groan decimated every last shred of Simon’s hesitation; there was no going back now. His tongue slipped into Kaye’s mouth, coating itself with the intoxicating taste within. “Kaye…” he groaned, practically flattening himself against the other man from pure, undiluted need.
God, Kaye didn't think he would ever get enough of Simon saying his name out loud, especially in a situation like this. He hummed into the other man's mouth as he pressed his lips against Simon's even harder, trying to get closer and closer even when they were already flat against one another. Without being drunk unlike last night, everything was more focused, every touch, every kiss, and he knew he would be able to remember this once it was over.
Finally, Simon forced himself to pull away, trying and failing to reel himself out of the sea of euphoria he was currently submersed in. “I had no idea,” he panted, chest heaving, “how much I wanted to do that until know.”
Kaye laughed lightly, a few heavy breathes escaping him as he leaned against the bedroom wall, his hair a mess across his forehead. "Me…me neither," he added between breathes, his mind still having a hard time with wrapping around the thought of Simon kissing him. Had it really happened…or was he dreaming?
The sight of Kaye’s mussed hair— and the knowledge that it was his hands that had caused it to be that way— only served to deepen the already prominent blush on his cheeks. “Fuck, Kaye, look at what you’ve done to me,” he breathed, eyes glued to the other man’s.
"Aw, is Simon blushing?" Kaye teased, a small, faint flush crossing his own cheeks when he heard the other man's comment, though it seemed that he had already returned to his overly confident persona.
“Y-Yeah,” he admitted quietly, dragging a hand through his tangled curls. “Yeah. Don’t tell me you weren’t flustered at all, though, or I just might have to give it another go until you blush.”
A laugh escaped Kaye at that and he quickly found that his cheeks had flushed the slightest bit, though still prominent against his pale skin tone. "Hm, maybe you'll have to later," he hummed, still leaning against the wall as he looked up towards Simon.
“Maybe.” The reality of what they’d just done— again— hit him full on, rendering him speechless for a moment. “Does that mean… does that mean— that you want to be— that you want to be—“
"Do…you want to?" Kaye asked after a small pause, tilting his head to the side in question. He liked the idea of that, being something with Simon, maybe being something that might last for a while, something that lasted longer than his other relationships.