The path to the tea house was narrow, winding through a grove of camellias whose heavy blossoms brushed against Ryan's shoulder as he guided Luna along. The late afternoon sun bled gold through the branches, dappling Luna's cheek in shifting light. Ryan's fingers lingered at the small of his back, tracing lazy circles that made Luna's breath hitch just enough to be noticed.
"You're tense," Ryan murmured, leaning close enough for his lips to graze the shell of Luna's ear.
Luna didn't look at him, but Ryan felt the subtle sway of his body toward the touch. "Maybe I have reason to be."
"Mmm," Ryan hummed. "Maybe I can fix that."
By the time they reached the tea house—a weathered structure tucked into the heart of the garden—the tension had softened into something warmer, more volatile. Ryan slid the door shut behind them, and the quiet was immediate, the muffled world outside replaced by the faint creak of floorboards and the scent of cedar.
He took Luna's hand, turning it over to press his lips against the inside of his wrist. "You've been looking at me like you're trying to solve me," Ryan said softly. "How about you stop thinking for a while?"
Luna's mouth quirked like he might argue, but Ryan's hands were already sliding up his arms, pulling him closer. Their bodies met in a slow, deliberate press, and Ryan kissed him—gentle at first, coaxing, then deeper, drinking in the taste of him. Luna melted, his fingers curling into Ryan's jacket, his suspicion dissolving with every stroke of Ryan's lips.
"You make it impossible to stay mad at you," Luna breathed between kisses.
"That's the idea," Ryan murmured, brushing his thumb over Luna's jaw before capturing his mouth again. He kissed like a man with nowhere else to be, like there was only this—Luna's warmth, the subtle hitch in his breath, the way his knees seemed to weaken under Ryan's hands.
It worked—Ryan could feel it. Whatever mission Luna had come in here with was slipping through his fingers like sand.
Ryan deepened the kiss, letting his hand drift lower, teasing at the waistband of Luna's trousers. He felt Luna's pulse quicken under his palm, his body leaning forward in open invitation. And then—Ryan froze.
The realization hit him like cold water: he didn't have his packer. No strap-on, nothing. Just him.
His hand stilled.
Luna opened his eyes, still glassy with want. "What's wrong?"
Ryan stepped back slightly, frustration darkening his expression. "I can't—" He hesitated, then shook his head.
Luna tilted his head, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. "You think I don't know?"
Ryan blinked. "…Know what?"
"That it's not real," Luna said simply, voice low but steady. "I've always known."
The words stunned Ryan, heat rushing to his face. "If you knew, then why—why didn't you say anything?"
Luna shrugged, and there was something disarmingly casual in it. "Because it doesn't matter to me. Just 'cause your junk isn't like mine doesn't make you any less a guy." He stepped closer, nuzzling against Ryan's cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Ryan's throat tightened. He pushed him back just enough to meet his gaze. "It's not just about having different types of cocks, Luna." His voice was rougher now, stripped of the earlier playfulness. "I was literally born different. I'm transgender. Female to male."
Luna sank back onto his heels, processing. The silence stretched for a moment before he nodded. "Okay."
Ryan frowned slightly. "Okay?"
"It doesn't change anything," Luna said. His tone was calm, but his eyes were warm in a way that made Ryan's chest ache. "Actually, I think it makes me… proud. That you can live as yourself, fully. That's not something everyone has the courage to do."
Ryan searched his face for any trace of pity, but there was none—just sincerity.
"I have feelings for you, Ryan," Luna said quietly. "And they go way beyond body parts."
Ryan felt something uncoil in him, a knot of dread he hadn't even realized he was carrying. He exhaled slowly, then reached for Luna's hand. "I have deep feelings for you too. And maybe one day, those feelings can be something the whole world will see."
Luna's lips curved into a soft smile. "I'd like that."
They sat there in the quiet tea house, fingers twined, the air between them charged not with the earlier seduction, but with something quieter, steadier—an intimacy that didn't need smoke and mirrors to survive.
For now, Luna had forgotten everything else—the questions, the suspicions, even the inconvenient fact that he was still married to Ryan's cousin. There was only the warmth of Ryan's hand in his, and the promise—unspoken, but present—that this was only the beginning.
🌙✨ Step Beyond the Page ✨🌙
Some doors only open if you knock with your heart.
For $5 a month, you can wander into my world — a place where sapphic glances linger like dusk light, boy love burns slow and certain, and the pages are always warm from being read too often.
Choose your path:
🌸 Sapphic Only: For those who want soft hands, fierce hearts, and love that blooms between women.
🌊 Boy Love Only: For those who crave quiet devotion and longing threaded through every glance.
🌈 All of the Above: For the unapologetically bi, the endlessly curious, the ones who just want more.
With your support, you'll receive:
📜 Early access to stories before they touch the world
💖 Bonus tales you won't find anywhere else
Every pledge is a candle lit in my writing room, keeping these stories alive and glowing.
If you've ever wanted to live inside a love story — this is your invitation.
Join here → https://www.patreon.com/c/NightKitten