Beside me | ONESHOTs

"You're not eating anything?" I asked after the first spoonful of chicken soup. It was a bit bland—neither of us were good cooks, to begin with. But honestly, I think that made it more endearing. If he were some amazing chef, it wouldn't feel as heartwarming as it did now, knowing he cooked for me despite being as lost in the kitchen as I was.

"I already ate while boiling the chicken breasts," he replied, his chin resting on his palm as he leaned forward, staring at me with an intensity that made me feel like he was trying to see through my skull. A light smile played on his lips, making him look oddly content. The only thing I could think of as the cause of his beatific mood was us—pairing as a couple. Was I always this self-delusional and self-flattering?

"You're staring," I said, looking at him over the rim of my bowl. I felt oddly naked under his piercing gaze.

He shrugged, completely unbothered, leaning back in the chair he had pulled close to my bed. "You're just too adorable—chewing soup even though it's practically just liquid. It reminds me of a tiny rabbit, you know?"

I nearly choked, coughing as I set the bowl down and glared at him. "What the hell are you saying, you jerk?" My ears burned. How could he say something so embarrassing so casually?

"What jerk?" He smirked, looking way too pleased with himself. "I'm just being honest."

"I'm starting to doubt which of us is the playboy," I muttered sarcastically, feeling the heat rising to my face. It should be my job to make him feel awkward and shy, not the other way around.

He tilted his head, his dark bangs falling into those icy blue eyes of his. "I could never be a playboy, and you know it." His voice was light, but a flicker of unease passed through his gaze, an emotion I couldn't quite pin down.

"Do you..." I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. "Do you hate it? Being in a relationship with someone who's slept with so many people?" Just the thought of Jesse having even one fling before me filled me with jealousy. How must he feel, knowing the noises I'd made in this very room, with someone else?

I knew I'd been a mess back then, but now I fully regretted it—being such a jerk to him, even indirectly.

He smiled, a hint of sadness in his expression. "I don't hate it—it just makes me more possessive. It makes me want to claim you, to make you mine so completely that you'd never even think of being with someone else." His voice dropped slightly, his tone dangerous, and I shivered at the intensity in his eyes. "But that kind of thinking scares me. It makes me feel like some territorial, lustful animal."

That dangerous look sent a thrill down my spine. My heart pounded as his words settled in my mind. A part of me wanted him to claim me, to make me his in every way possible. I wanted to take his first time. And to let him take mine.

"I've never done it using my ass, you know?" I blurted out, averting my gaze as the heat rose to my cheeks.

"I figured," he said, "but that doesn't mean I won't feel possessive of my naughty baby."

Once again, I choked, this time on my own saliva. "N-Naughty baby? Are you insane? What happened to the real Jesse, and who's this alien pretending to be him?"

He chuckled, taking the now-empty bowl and without an answer walked away to wash it. I stared after him, still reeling from his boldness.

What the hell? Did my vulgar behavior rub off on him? How can that old-fashioned nerd say things like that?

I shook my head and stood up, determined to make myself presentable. I managed to peel off my shirt, which reeked of alcohol and the lingering scent of the bar, when Jesse walked back in. He froze in the doorway, his eyes scanning me like he wasn't sure what to do.

"Do you want something?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as he leaned casually against the doorframe, his gaze lingering a bit too long.

"Yeah," he exhaled teasingly, his voice low. "To be with you. But I didn't expect you to seduce me like this."

I rolled my eyes, smirking as I deliberately stretched, exposing more of my half-bare body. "Seducing you? How? Am I that irresistible, Mr. Proper?"

"Want to know what it feels like to tempt me?" he asked, ignoring my sarcasm. I was confused for a second, but then he started unbuttoning his shirt. My confusion quickly turned to panic.

Jesse wasn't like me—he hated being seen without clothes, always neatly dressed. I hadn't seen him shirtless in over a year.

And when the fabric fell away, revealing his pale, toned chest, I was stunned. Slim yet muscular, his body radiated power and elegance. No chest hair, just smooth skin and dark pink nipples that seemed even more striking against his complexion.

My stomach tightened, and heat flooded my lower body. Fuck. How can he look this good without even trying?

"Like what you see?" he asked, his voice amused. I barely registered his words, but my traitorous body nodded before I could think.

I heard his soft chuckle as he stepped closer, the muscles in his chest shifting with each movement. I couldn't look away, my breath catching as he leaned in, his face inches from mine.

"You're staring now," he murmured, repeating my earlier words with a low, teasing voice. "I guess we're even."

I opened my mouth to retort, to find some footing in this conversation, but the words died in my throat as he leaned closer, his lips brushing against mine—soft and tentative. A shiver ran down my spine.

I wanted to say something, to not let him win this round of flirting, but I came to a frustrating realization: my brain was utterly useless whenever he got this close.

Fucking brain—couldn't be useful when it had to be. But my lustful body, aching for pleasure, acted on its own. My hands instinctively reached out, gripping his arms as I pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. His skin was warm beneath my fingers, his presence grounding yet electrifying all at once.

Jesse's hands settled on my waist, his thumbs tracing small, agonizingly gentle circles against my skin. He guided me backward until the back of my knees hit the bed, and I sank down, pulling him with me. The kiss grew hungrier, our movements more urgent as he pressed his body against mine, his weight making my pulse race.

My hands slid up his back, feeling the strength in his lean frame as his lips trailed down my jaw, his breath warm against my neck. He pressed kisses there, slow and deliberate, making me gasp as his hands roamed under the waistband of my pants, teasing but never rushing. I loved it—his gentle hunger. Steady, burning, but still kind and caring, just like him.

"Jesse," I whispered, my voice barely audible, thick with need. My fingers tangled in his hair, tugging slightly, and he responded with a low, almost guttural hum that made my entire body burn.

We shifted, his body hovering over mine as we settled further onto the bed. My hands slipped to his waistband, fumbling slightly as I tried to slide his pants down, but just as I made progress, Jesse froze.

His breathing was heavy, his lips still brushing against my collarbone, but his hands gently caught mine, stilling my movements. "Wait a sec, Aaron." His voice was soft, almost shaky, but firm. He sat back slightly, his gaze meeting mine, and I could see the conflict in his eyes.

I raised my brows in silent question, not trusting my voice to sound normal.

He exhaled, running a hand through his dark hair before leaning down to rest his forehead against mine. "I want you. Oh God, I really want to make love to you, to mark you, to make you mine, but…" He pulled back slightly, his hands brushing against my cheeks. "I'm not prepared. I want us to really know each other as boyfriends first before we go there. I don't want our first time to feel rushed."

His words hit me like a soft punch, the tension between us shifting into something deeper, more meaningful. My chest ached, but not from rejection—it was something warmer, something that made me feel seen in a way I hadn't expected. It surprised me how glad I felt at his refusal. As if he were telling me he wanted to cherish our relationship—not just the physical but to build an emotional bond first.

"You're serious?" I asked softly, not pulling away.

He nodded, his thumb tracing over my cheekbone. "I want us to be together for a long time, so I don't want to jump into it just yet. Does that make sense?" he asked, chuckling awkwardly.

For once, I didn't know what to say. So instead, I cupped his face and kissed him again, softer this time, pouring everything I couldn't put into words into that single act. He responded with the same tenderness, and when we finally broke apart, we both smiled.

"Fine," I said, my voice light but genuine. "I get you."

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to my forehead before lying down beside me, pulling me into his arms. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice soft in the quiet of the room.

I rested my head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and for the first time in a long while, I felt completely at peace. If waiting meant more moments like this, I knew it would be worth it.

The atmosphere was so sweet, filling every part of me so intensely, that it made me awkward and shy. So, naturally, I ruined it with the first dumb thought that crossed my mind, completely shattering the pure, innocent mood.

"But… could we try BDSM at least once?"

Now it was Jesse's turn to choke.