He was shaking.

The early morning hours had been full of hastily replaced clothing, short smiles, and uncertain silences; not precisely how I'd envisioned it. You'd think it had been a one-night off if you were none the wiser. I remember waking up with the feeling of warm skin pressed tightly to my stomach and panicking.

Did we really do it? Was it wrong? Was it right? What happens now? Questions assaulted the beauty of that moment, terrorizing the comfort that came with being so close to him. I wanted to just bury my face in his hair and go back to sleep for another hour, but reality stopped me. The reality was that for once, I didn't know what to do.

I had slid out of bed and ignored the rustling he'd made behind me, signaling that I had awoken him. I tried to block out the feeling of his anxious gaze on my back as I threw on some underwear and went to the bathroom just to close out the guilt I felt in leaving him alone.

I knew he was thinking that I realized I didn't want to be with him, and for a moment I couldn't believe I knowingly left him with such a false conclusion. But I was scared, nervous, and not sure if last night should have happened at all. Me, scared; who would have ever imagined? Me, locking myself in a bathroom and wishing that I didn't ever have to come out and face him. It was pathetic.

I came out eventually, of course. He was already dressed in his favorite low-slung, faded denim and packing his things up into a silver duffel bag to prepare for the day's worth of driving we had ahead. Our eyes locked as the opening door beckoned his attention and we shared a faltering moment of uncertainty. I tried to smile but it came out horribly wrong.

I wanted to somehow be able to communicate to him how much I loved him, how it was in fear and not distaste that I left the bed this morning. He smiled back at me, short and forced as though he believed my gesture had been one of sympathy and apology. I could see his thoughts, see that they were crushed and disappointed, that he'd known I was going to leave him. That he'd been expecting this to happen.

But it didn't really happen.

We were sitting in the car now, two hours in strict quiet under the belt and seven to go before we arrived at our destination of Tucson, Arizona. The air was so hot and thick that we couldn't breathe it and had to pull over to put the top of the rental back up. Air conditioning now held fast, whispering quietly in the dreadful, uncharacteristic silence of our car. We hadn't said a word to each other yet and my heart hadn't stopped pounding all morning.

I needed to do something before the tension ate me alive from the inside out. My head was bursting with cries of immorality and blasphemy and wrong wrong wrong but then it occurred to me that I loved him. It was hurting so much, just sitting here and not being able to talk to him like we always do and to hold him like I wanted so badly. Regardless of how politically correct it was, I had to be with him. I suddenly felt stupid for letting society's opinions tell me what okay to do in my life and what wasn't.

I glanced down at his hand as it rested on the gear shift, grip tense and whitening. My fingers slid slowly over his knuckles and rested between the painted green of his fingertips. I saw the look of surprise evident on his features as he turned to me from the desert flat and I could only smile. Leaning across our hands, I kissed his cheek softly and moved to rest my lips against his neck.

He was shaking.

"I'm sorry, Jeff," I whispered from his skin. "It wasn't what you think it was. Last night was amazing; it was so amazing it scared me." I paused, reluctant to admit any further. "I didn't know what to do … I thought we made a mistake."

"It didn't feel like a mistake," He replied quietly. I felt his hand release its grip on the gear shift and his fingers wrapped around mine, squeezing my hand.

I squeezed back, relieved with the measure of comfort that was immediately swimming beneath my skin. "I know. That's why I was scared."

"Why are you scared now?"

I smiled. "I'm not."

"Why not?" He glanced at me again.

"Because I love you."

"Oh," the reply came slowly as his lips curled upward. Leaning over, he graced me with the beautiful kiss that I had drowned myself in last night. Memories of those heavenly sensations coursed through my body and died instantly when his mouth left mine to turn back to the road. I was left wanting.

His eyes darted back to me and I melted at the sight of the ever-present grin that normally met my gaze. "I love you too, Matt."

I smiled and leaned my head on his shoulder. Maybe the morning wasn't as bad as I thought.