I Always Thought I Was Straight Until I Moved In With My Best Friend. Now Our Landlord Is Kicking Us Out And I Have To Decide. Should I Tell Him How I Feel Before We Lose Everything?

The Truth Comes Out

Then he takes a shaky breath and tells me he’s been in love with me for months. Maybe longer than that. He says he’s been trying so hard to get over it. Thought he could just wait it out until these feelings went away because he thought I was straight.

Thought telling me would mean losing me completely. And losing me as a friend would be worse than never getting to be with me. His voice breaks a little on the last part. I can see his eyes getting wet.

I tell him he’s not going to lose me. That I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere. That I want this as much as he does. Maybe I’ve wanted it longer than I even realized. We’re both crying a little bit now. Both laughing at ourselves for being such a mess.

He gets up from his chair and comes around the table. Sits in the chair next to mine instead. Takes both my hands in his. His fingers are warm and steady even though I can feel them trembling slightly. We sit there holding hands across the corner of the table.

Our dinner getting cold. Neither of us caring at all. He leans forward. His eyes lock on mine. His voice drops to almost a whisper when he asks if he can kiss me. I say yes before my brain can catch up and start listing all the reasons this is scary.

His hand comes up to cup my jaw. His thumb brushes across my cheekbone. Then his lips touch mine, and everything else disappears.

The First Kiss

The kiss is soft at first. Gentle, like he’s giving me a chance to change my mind. But I don’t want to change my mind. I lean into him, and he makes this small sound in the back of his throat that makes my whole body feel warm.

When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard. He rests his forehead against mine. Neither of us says anything for a long moment. Then he stands up and holds out his hand. I take it, and he pulls me up from my chair.

We move to the couch without letting go of each other. He sits down first, and I follow. His hands slide into my hair like he’s been wanting to do this for months. Maybe he has been. I pull him closer by his shirt and we’re kissing again.

This time it’s deeper. More sure. His fingers tangle in my hair, and I can feel him smiling against my lips. We end up lying down somehow. Him half on top of me with one leg between mine. My hands are everywhere. His shoulders. His back. The sides of his face.

I can’t get enough of touching him now that I’m allowed to. He pulls back just enough to look at me. His pupils are huge and his lips are red from kissing. He looks happy. Really, genuinely happy in a way I haven’t seen in weeks.

I probably look the same. We stay like that for what feels like hours. Kissing slowly. Taking breaks to just look at each other and grin like complete idiots. At some point, he says this is the best Christmas present he’s ever gotten.

I tell him, “Same.”

He laughs and kisses me again.

Christmas Morning

Eventually, we stop to actually talk. The Christmas tree lights are still on, and it’s probably past midnight now. He’s lying with his head on my chest. My fingers are playing with his hair. He asks me when I first knew.

I tell him about the hallway collision. About the butterflies. About every single moment after that where I tried to convince myself I was imagining things. He listens without interrupting.

When I finish, he tells me about his side of things. How he realized he had feelings for me about six months ago. How he tried so hard to get over it because he thought I was straight. How watching me walk around the apartment with wet hair was actual torture.

That makes me laugh. He props himself up on his elbow to look at me. Says he’s serious. Says he used to have to leave the room sometimes because looking at me hurt too much. I pull him back down and kiss the top of his head. Tell him he doesn’t have to leave rooms anymore.

We talk until the sky starts getting light outside. About everything we’ve been too scared to say out loud. About what this means for us. About how terrified we both are of messing this up. But also how right it feels. How inevitable. Like we were always going to end up here eventually.

I must fall asleep at some point because I wake up to sunlight coming through the windows. He’s still wrapped around me. Still sleeping. I lie there watching him breathe for a few minutes. His face is relaxed in a way it hasn’t been lately. Peaceful.

I think about how much everything changed in one night. How I went to bed yesterday not knowing if he felt the same way, and now I’m waking up with him in my arms. He stirs and opens his eyes. Sees me watching him. Smiles this sleepy smile that makes my chest tight.

We exchange good mornings. He asks if I slept okay. I tell him, “Best sleep I’ve had in weeks.”

He agrees. We eventually get up to make coffee. Move around the kitchen like we always do. Except now he can come up behind me while I’m waiting for the pot to brew. Can wrap his arms around my waist and rest his chin on my shoulder. Can kiss the side of my neck and make me forget what I was doing.