Built For Almost

31. Claim Me, Then Tell Me I'm Yours

Zay's heart hit his ribs. "Neil-"

"Tell me I'm yours."

The words dropped like a grenade. With a bang and unexpected.

Zay stared at him, stunned, every nerve lit. Neil was breathing hard now, knuckles white, holding him like if he let go, the world would collapse again.

"You're mine," Zay said, low, rough. "And I've been losing my mind watching you try to hide it."

Neil surged forward.

It wasn't a kiss-it was a claim. It was desperate hands, scraped teeth and a noise in the back of Neil's throat like he'd been dying for this and only just got air. Zay backed into the wall, one arm around Neil's waist, the other threading into his hair.

The locker room was empty.

Still.

But Zay didn't care if someone walked in. Didn't care if Coach saw.

He tilted Neil's chin up, breath shaking.
"Say it."

Neil looked at him, lips red, hoodie falling off one shoulder.

"I'm yours."

And Zay kissed him again.

Harder.

Deeper.

Like he was promising to never let go.

...

They didn't speak much on the way back.

Zay walked a half-step behind Neil the whole time, like he was afraid to rush the moment. The hallway lights were dim; the buzz of campus had quieted to a hush of late-night silence. Every so often, Neil's shoulder would brush his-casual, accidental, not-so-accidental-and Zay would feel his chest tighten like it was being pulled by an invisible string.

The dorm door clicked shut behind them.

Neil just stood in the center of the room like he didn't know what to do with himself now, hoodie sleeves still swallowing his hands, that restless energy still simmering under his skin.

Zay leaned back against the door. Watched him.

"You good?"

Neil turned slowly. "No."

Zay raised a brow. "No?"

"I don't know what I'm doing," Neil admitted, voice hoarse. "I don't know how to be... like this. With you."

Zay's voice dropped. "Like what?"

Neil stepped closer.

"Wanting. Needing. I've always hated needing people. It makes me feel like-if they walk away, I won't survive it."

Zay's throat worked. "I'm not walking anywhere."

Silence stretched, thick with unspoken things.

Then Neil crossed the room in a blink. Pulled Zay toward the bed - and shoved him to sit down like he needed the contact or he'd unravel on the spot.

Zay looked up, wide-eyed, as Neil climbed into his lap like it was natural. Like he belonged there. Straddling his thighs, arms looped around his shoulders, forehead resting against his.

Zay exhaled slowly. "Neil."

"I need you close tonight."

"You have me."

Neil didn't respond with words. Just leaned in further, head tucked against Zay's neck, breath trembling against his collarbone. Zay slid his arms around him, gentle but firm, holding him together like he knew what this meant. How much Neil had let himself crack open for this.

They stayed like that. Zay leaned back against the wall, Neil curled on top of him, legs tangled, hoodie bunched around his hips. Zay ran slow, absentminded fingers along his spine, and Neil melted like all his defenses had finally burned out.

"I thought I broke everything," Neil said, quietly. "After my injury. After losing everything I worked for. I didn't think I'd feel wanted again."

Zay kissed his temple.

"You're not broken. And I've always wanted you."

That silence came again-but it was a different kind now. Softer. Heavier. Safe.

Zay felt Neil breathe. Felt his heartbeat slowly settle. Felt the way Neil's fingers clutched the hem of his shirt like he was afraid to let go.

And maybe Zay didn't have all the answers. Maybe this thing between them was still messy and undefined and terrifying.

But right here, with Neil pressed against him like he never wanted to move again-

It was the beginning of something real.

A/N
So... I don't know if I overdid it. The relationship? Emotions between them? Okay, the slowburn isn't slowburning anymore I guess...
What do you think - do we stay soft or stir the tension again? :3