Page 28 of After the Rain

The admission hung between us, raw and honest and terrifying in its vulnerability. Wade had brought me to this place not just to show me a house, but to show me his heart laid bare.

"Wade, I need you to be clear about what you're saying."

He took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders like he was preparing for battle.

"I'm saying I'm gay, Ezra. I'm saying I've been in love with you since before I knew what that meant.

I'm saying I brought you to this house because some part of me was already imagining a life where we could be together, where Cooper could have the family he deserves, where I could finally stop pretending to be someone I'm not. "

The words I'd been hoping for and dreading in equal measure, finally spoken without hedges or qualifications.

Wade wasn't experimenting or confused anymore.

He was standing in the backyard of a house he'd secretly renovated while dreaming of a future with me, telling me he loved me with a clarity that took my breath away.

"And I'm saying," he continued, his voice gaining strength, "that I don't want to hide anymore.

I don't want to pretend we're just friends, don't want to keep protecting other people's comfort at the expense of our truth.

I'm tired of being afraid, Ezra. I'm tired of letting fear make my choices for me. "

I stared at him, this man who'd been wrestling with his identity while secretly building us a home, and felt every wall I'd constructed around my heart start to crumble.

"Do you know what they'll do to us?" I asked quietly. "To you, to Cooper, to any chance of a normal life in this town?"

"I know they'll try to destroy us. I know Sarah's parents are building a case to limit my custody, that Mrs. Garrett is trying to end your career, that half the town is watching for any excuse to confirm their worst assumptions about gay people.

" He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving mine.

"But I also know that I can't keep living a lie just to make other people comfortable. "

"Wade..."

"And I know that Cooper deserves to see his father living authentically, even if it's difficult. Especially if it's difficult." His voice dropped to a whisper. "And I know that I'd rather fight for the life I want with you than keep hiding from the life I'm supposed to want without you."

The confession hit me like lightning, illuminating every dark corner of fear and longing I'd been carrying. Wade wasn't just coming out—he was choosing me, choosing us, choosing to build something real despite every obstacle in our path.

"I love you too," I said, the words falling out of me like they'd been waiting years to be spoken. "I've been in love with you since you asked me to help Cooper with his math homework and I saw how gentle you were with him, how much you genuinely cared about his happiness."

Wade's face transformed, relief and joy and something that looked like wonder washing over his features. "Really?"

"Really. But Wade, if we do this—if we choose each other—everything changes. Your custody situation, my job, Cooper's social life. Are you ready for that?"

"I don't know if anyone's ever ready for that kind of change," he said honestly. "But I know I'm done being afraid of it."

The space between us felt charged, like the air before a thunderstorm. Wade reached out slowly, giving me time to pull away, and cupped my face in his hands.

"Ezra, I want to kiss you again. Not because I'm confused or experimenting or trying to figure out who I am. I want to kiss you because I love you, because you're the future I want to build, because this house would not mean anything without you in it."

I leaned into his touch, feeling the calluses on his palms from all the work he'd done on this place while thinking about us. "Then kiss me."

When his lips met mine, it felt like coming home and setting out on a journey simultaneously. This wasn't the desperate, panicked kiss we'd shared weeks ago. This was Wade choosing me with full knowledge of who he was and what it would cost us both.

I kissed him back with everything I'd been holding inside—all the longing and fear and hope I'd been carrying since the first time he'd smiled at me like I was someone worth knowing. My hands found the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.

When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Wade rested his forehead against mine.

"I want to show you the bedroom," he said, his voice rough with want and vulnerability. "I want to make love to you in the house I've been building for us."

The request was raw, honest, stripped of any pretense or games. Wade was offering me not just his body but his truth, his dreams, his willingness to be completely vulnerable.

"Yes," I whispered, because there was nothing else to say.

He took my hand and led me back through the house, up the stairs to the master bedroom. It was smaller than the other rooms but warm, with windows that caught the last of the evening light. There was a bed—queen-sized, simple wooden frame, clearly new—and not much else.

"I bought the bed last week," Wade said, suddenly shy. "I told myself it was because I needed furniture if I was going to sell the place eventually. But really, I bought it because I kept imagining what it would be like to wake up next to you."

The admission undid me completely. Wade had been planning this, dreaming this, building toward this moment while I'd been protecting my heart and wondering if I was reading too much into his confusion.

I turned to face him fully, reaching for the hem of his shirt. "Show me," I said quietly. "Show me what you've been imagining."

What followed was the most honest, raw, breathtaking thing I'd ever experienced. Wade touched me like he was learning me—like every gasp, every sigh was a piece of a map he was quietly memorizing. And I gave myself back with equal intensity, pouring weeks of tension, longing, and something I hadn’t dared name into every kiss, every touch, every whispered breath against his skin.

We moved together with the urgency of two people who had held back too long—yet there was nothing careless about it. There was tenderness in the way he slowed down when I shivered, in the way our eyes kept meeting like we were both silently asking, Are you sure?

The door clicked shut behind us, and the soft hush of the room wrapped around us—not like a promise, but like a beginning.

Wade stood by the bed, his hands loose at his sides, fingers twitching with a nervous energy I recognized from watching him hold himself back. His eyes scanned the room, then landed on me—uncertain, hopeful, reverent.

He’d built this space with his own hands, but now he stood in it like a man on unfamiliar ground.

“I don’t…” He swallowed hard. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You don’t have to,” I said gently, stepping close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. “We’ll figure it out together.”

He nodded, but his breath caught when I reached out and traced my fingers up the front of his shirt, slowly undoing each button. His eyes followed my hands, wide and shining, his chest rising and falling with a growing intensity.

“You okay?” I asked quietly.

Wade nodded again. “Yeah. Just… I’ve wanted this for so long I don’t know what to do with it now that it’s real.”

I pressed a kiss to his chest as I peeled the shirt off his shoulders. “You don’t have to do anything except feel.”

Wade’s hands found my hips, tentative at first, then firmer as he pulled me closer. When our bare torsos touched, he let out a low, shaky breath and buried his face in my neck.

“I’ve dreamed about this,” he murmured. “About you. About us. But the real thing… God, Ezra.”

I ran my hands over his back, feeling every ridge of muscle, every place where he’d carried the weight of hiding. I kissed his jaw, then his mouth—slowly, carefully—until he opened to me with a soft, desperate sound that made my knees threaten to give.

We undressed each other between kisses and whispered touches, clothes falling in quiet rustles to the floor. When Wade’s boxers slid down his hips and pooled at his feet, he hesitated, vulnerable in a way I’d never seen.

“You’re beautiful,” I said, letting my gaze trail down his body, taking in the thick length of his cock, flushed and heavy, already starting to curve toward his stomach. “You don’t have to be nervous.”

“I’m not nervous about you,” he said. “I’m nervous about me. I want to be good for you.”

“You already are.”

I stepped back and reached for the nightstand, opening the drawer where he’d clearly stashed the lube—unscented, practical, thoughtful. My heart clenched. He’d really thought this through.

“I’ll take care of you,” I said, voice low as I knelt on the bed, holding out my hand. “Come here.”

Wade climbed up beside me, his skin brushing mine, eyes locked to mine as if he was watching for any sign of hesitation. I kissed him again, longer this time, and let my hand wrap around his cock—just enough pressure to make him groan into my mouth.

He was hard and hot, pulsing against my palm.

His hand found me next, tentative fingers wrapping around my cock, mirroring my touch with growing confidence.

“This okay?” he asked.

“More than okay,” I murmured, letting my hips roll into his grip. “You feel incredible.”

We lay tangled together, kissing and touching, trading quiet moans and whispered encouragement. When I slid a slick hand down his body and circled his entrance, Wade froze for just a second.

“I want to feel it,” he said, voice hoarse. “I want to feel you.”

“I’ll go slow,” I promised.

I kissed my way down his body, savoring every new sound he made—each one breaking freer, rawer, more honest. When I took him in my mouth, his whole body jerked and he gasped, hand fisting in the sheets.

“Ezra—fuck—” He hissed through his teeth, hips twitching under my hold. “That’s… Jesus…”