“What if sober Rhys still wants this in the morning?” Rhys asked.
Thomas swallowed against the lump in his throat. He doubted Rhys would want to pick up where they left off, and he was already bracing himself for Rhys to wake up overwhelmed by guilt and shame, but he answered honestly.
“If you still want this when you’re sober, I’m one hundred percent on-board,” he said, stroking Rhys’s cheek with the backs of his fingers.
Rhys leaned into the touch, and his answering smile was tender enough to break Thomas’s heart with longing for Rhys to look at him that way without the influence of alcohol. “One more kiss?”
Thomas could no more deny that request than he could deny his need to breathe. “One more kiss,” he said softly, drawing Rhys back down.
Their second kiss was slower and gentler than the first, but it still made Thomas ache with need for more. When it ended at last, he rolled over so Rhys could spoon against his back, and he sighed and relaxed into sleep.
If one night was all he could have, at least it had been a night worth remembering.
