Mike has always been more than just a friend.
Back in school, he was my protector, the one who stood up for me when others hurled insults at me. At the time, I thought he just had a good heart. Today, I know that he was also someone I secretly admired. When he walked into the gym, people fell silent. Broad shoulders, sculpted chest, six-pack, and that aura of security. He was my hero, even if I never told him that.
That evening, we were supposed to go to training together. On the way to his apartment, I smiled to myself, imagining our time together. But when I approached the door, I heard raised voices. I stopped.
“I don't want you spending so much time with that gay guy!” the girl yelled.
My heart stopped. That word hit me like a punch.
I wanted to walk away, to run away, but my legs refused to obey. I stood there, paralyzed, listening.
Mike, calm but firm:
“Matt is my friend. You have no right to talk about him like that.”
“Do you know what people think when they see you with him all the time? That you're just like him.” Her voice trembled with anger.
“Everyone's talking! It looks weird, Mike!”
I felt a lump growing in my throat.
And then his voice, stronger, sharper, so that I held my breath.
“Enough. If you have a problem with Matt... you're the problem. Not him.”
Tears welled up in my eyes. Shame, gratitude, fear.
Mike was risking his relationship for me, and I was standing outside the door, feeling my life changing forever.
The door opened suddenly.
I stood there like a convict caught eavesdropping, my heart pounding like crazy. Mike stepped out into the hallway, still pumped up, anger in his eyes that slowly faded when he saw me. We stared at each other in silence for a moment, only his heavy breathing filling the space.
“You heard everything, didn't you?” he asked quietly but confidently.
I swallowed hard.
“I heard something...” I replied, though we both knew it was a lie.
His face softened and his jaw, tense a moment ago, relaxed slightly.
“I'm sorry you had to hear that,” he said, looking down as if he felt ashamed himself. “She... she talks nonsense. You shouldn't worry about it.”
I took a step toward him, feeling that if I backed away now, I would lose this moment forever.
“You don't have to apologize. On the contrary.” My voice trembled, but I spoke sincerely. “Thank you for defending me.”
His eyes rose to mine, and I saw something in them that had never been there before, warmth, maybe even longing. We stood close, so close that I could smell his perfume.
He was silent. So was I. The air between us thickened.
It was like the moment before a storm, when you know something is going to happen, but you don't know what yet.
At that moment, I felt as if the world had shrunk to just the two of us... and what Mike was going to do in a second.
Mike looked at me intensely, as if he wanted to say something... but couldn't find the words.
His chest heaved heavily and his shoulder muscles were tense, as if he were fighting with himself.
And then it happened, he slowly leaned toward me.
At first, it was barely a touch, a brush of his lips against mine. Uncertain, fragile, like a secret no one should know.
I froze, surprised, and then... I kissed him back. My hand moved on its own to the back of his neck, warm and hard with muscle.
Mike sighed deeply, and that was enough to change the kiss.
It became hotter, deeper.
His tongue brushed mine, and his hand rested on my hip, pulling me closer.
Our bodies touched, rubbing against each other through our clothes. I could feel his warmth, his strength, that familiar scent that had given me chills for years.
My breathing quickened, my heart was beating so loudly that I felt like the whole stairwell could hear it.
At any moment, someone could walk out of the apartment, but I didn’t care.
It was just us, finally without masks, without pretending.
He tasted like anger, relief, and desire all at once.
Like someone who had been holding back for a long time... and finally stopped.
I wanted this moment to last forever, even though I knew it was impossible.
Mike suddenly pulled away from me, as if he had just realized what he had done.
He was breathing heavily, and his eyes were a mixture of fear and desire.
He took a step back, as if he needed space to regain control of himself.
“I... I don't know what came over me,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion.
I wanted to calm him down, touch him, pull him back.
“Mike, it was okay. Really.” My words were soft, pleading, as if they could convince him that nothing bad had happened.
But he shook his head, avoiding my gaze.
“Let's just forget about it, okay?”
Those words tore me apart inside, but I couldn't push.
I could see him struggling with himself, so I just nodded, swallowing the bitterness.
“Let's just... go to the gym,”
he added, his voice sounding as if he was putting up a wall between us.
We walked toward the exit in silence.
I wanted to take his hand.
I wanted to ask if that kiss meant anything.
But the fear that if I pressed him, he would run away, paralyzed me.
Right by the door, his hand brushed mine, a quick, involuntary gesture.
And then he stepped back as if nothing had happened.
We walked side by side in the dark, and I knew one thing: something had happened between us that we could never undo.
And that this was just the beginning.
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