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do you understand? (cause I do everything from my heart)

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They are lying in Pick’s bed, Rome curled up on top of Pick with his head tucked under Pick’s chin. One of Rome’s arms are draped across Pick’s bare chest, his fingers drawing invisible shapes on Pick’s skin. Rome sighs happily, closing his eyes as he revels in finally touching Pick like he wants to.

It’s almost hard to believe that Rome is actually there, cuddling with Pick after a couple of hours of intense sex. To think in the last few weeks Rome was sure it’d take at least a year for Pick to get his shit together and admit he’s in love with Rome. Maybe he should send a fruit basket to P’Din for being an asshole and try to split Pick and him. He only managed to help Rome in the end by speeding up the process of him and Pick getting together.

Rome feels Pick taking a deep breath and then a kiss being dropped on the top of his head.

“Why are you even awake?” Pick asks with a sleepy voice. “You came like three times, how are you not tired?”

Rome grins, tightening his grip around Pick’s middle while rubbing the side of his face on Pick’s chest. “I think I’m too keyed up to sleep.”

“Why?” Pick inquires trying to muffle a yawn, one of his hands caressing Rome’s shoulder as he speaks.

“Oy, we’ve been officially together for a month and we just had sex for the first time, of course I’m fired up,” Rome defends himself.

“Ugh,” Pick complains. “Here you go again with the mushy things. Who the hell celebrates the first month together anyway? Nobody does that!”

“Well, seeing that you took several months to get your shit together and admit that you actually loved me the whole time,” Rome starts, tilting his head to look at Pick’s face. “I think I deserve to celebrate any milestone I want to after all the heartache you caused me.”

Pick flinches at his words, but Rome doesn’t feel any remorse for making a dig at Pick. He’d milk out the drama of the start of their relationship every time Pick tried to make fun of him for being sentimental.

“Fine,” Pick relents, tightening his hold on Rome. “Whatever you need, darling .”

Rome jabs him sharply in the ribs for the insincere term of endearment.

“Ouch!” Pick complains. “That hurt!”

“Good!” Rome says. “It was supposed to.”

Pick mumbles something Rome can’t make sense of, but instead of asking Pick to repeat, Rome decides to let go. He might be keyed up, but he doesn’t feel like bickering with Pick for the rest of the night.

He wants to quietly enjoy their time together. Just the two of them, no university or family or friends around. Only Pick and Rome, nothing more between them, not even clothes.

Rome is sure this is his personal nirvana.

“You know I didn’t want to hurt you, right?” Pick says, startling Rome out of his happy bubble.

“Oh, Phee,” Rome snuggles against Pick’s chest. “I know that,” Rome pauses briefly to gather his thoughts. “It was my choice to wait for you. I mean I could’ve walked away, found a very handsome boyfriend that was already out and with whom I’d have the easiest relationship with, but I didn’t.”

“Why didn’t you?” Pick asks in a low voice.

“I told you once that things that take an effort to get are valuable,” Rome pauses to look up at Pick. “You were worth the wait.”

“Thanks,” Pick says in a soft voice, eyes fixed on Rome’s. “For not giving up on me.”

“I love you, Phee,” Rome declares with a soft smile.    

“I love you too, Rome,” is Pick’s answer before he cups Rome’s cheek and pulls him in a gentle kiss.

Rome sighs into the kiss, holding Pick close, almost crushing Pick to his body.

Shit, he thinks, I love you so damn much .