“You need clothes, shoes, underwear.”
“Clothes?” Ever looked down at his borrowed outfit. “Oh.”
“Yeah, you don’t want to keep having to wear mine, do you?”
Yes.Arsen’s hoodie smelled like him. It smelled like his spicy soap, motor oil, and the sharp woodsy scent of his cologne. Wearing Arsen’s hoodie was like being wrapped in a permanent hug and he was already mourning the loss.
“Okay,” Ever said, dejected.
Arsen studied him closely—so close Ever made himself small, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You can still wear my t-shirts and my hoodies,” Arsen said softly. “If that’s what’s worrying you.”
Ever’s gaze slid to the floor. “Okay.”
Arsen put a hand on his back. “I just want you to have things that are just yours. Just in case.”
Those three words stabbed at Ever’s heart. In case of what? In case he sent Ever away? In case he had to leave? In case someone took him away? But he didn’t say any of that. He was being ungrateful.
Instead, he did as Arsen asked, picking shirts and jeans and a few hoodies as well as socks and underwear, pajamas and soap. Arsen wouldn’t let him see the total of their purchases and insisted on carrying all the bags, not only to the bus but several blocks back to the apartment.
It wasn’t quite dark when they returned, but it was dinner time. Ever refused to eat. He couldn’t. His stomach was already churning. Arsen said it was fine but insisted that he take another shower with his own things and then put on his new comfortable clothes.
As always, Ever did as he was told. His clothes were comfy. The pants were soft and thin with navy and white stripes, the shirt just a plain white tee but one he wasn’t swimming in. Even so, he took a seat on Arsen’s bed, picking up his zippered hoodie from the night before and slipping it on, bringing it to his nose and inhaling deeply.
He grabbed one of his books from the bag sitting on the edge of the bed—the romance novel—and curled up in the corner where he usually slept, opening the book and reading the first paragraph.
He didn’t remember falling asleep but he must have, because when he woke, the room was cast in shadow, the only light coming from the street light outside. Ever’s pulse shot up, leaving him a little breathless. He wasn’t afraid of the dark necessarily, but he didn’t want to be in it alone. He quickly exited the room, his heart rate slowing as he entered the family room where the lights burned bright.
No Arsen.
He didn’t have to search. He could hear him shouting and laughing from the other room, could hear him pounding on the keys of his keyboard then cackling as he did something Ever couldn’t see.
When he entered the computer room, Arsen didn’t notice at first, but as he crept closer, he must have caught sight of him. He grinned, waving him closer, then tugged him until he was sitting on the stool between his knees, Arsen’s arms bracketing him on either side as he resumed his gameplay.
Ever glanced at the chat, seeing his name appear again and again, but the lines moved too fast for him to read and comprehend. It didn’t matter. He didn’t want to read, he just wanted to enjoy the feel of Arsen’s chest pressed against his back and the feel of his chin brushing his hair and bumping his head every time he spoke or shouted something to his teammates.
On the desk in front of Ever was a bag of candy. Every few minutes, Arsen would stop and shovel some into his mouth. When he noticed Ever watching, he took a handful and held them in front of him. In retrospect, he probably meant for Ever to take them from his hand—which he did. But not with his hand, with his mouth, eating like he was a baby bird or a zoo animal, his lips brushing Arsen’s palm briefly as he took the candy.
He started to chew before he fully comprehended what he’d just done. Once he swallowed, he looked up at Arsen, who was no longer looking at the game but staring at Ever with a look in his eyes that made his belly feel warm and shivery. He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. He just stared up at him, held captive by the heat in his gaze.
He wasn’t sure who moved first, but Arsen’s lips were suddenly brushing his, leaving a shocky buzzing sensation in their wake. It wasn’t a kiss like in his romance novel. There was no tongue or mouths crashing together. It was barely-there, whisper soft, and the single most erotic thing Ever had ever experienced.
Before he could even react, Arsen was pulling back, dazed. Ever’s heart squeezed, a jolt of awareness spiking through him, when it seemed Arsen might dip his head once more—might kiss him again. Ever sat frozen, holding his breath, his body responding in ways it never had before.
A chime rang out from the computer, jarring Ever from his paralysis. He jumped to his feet, retreating to Arsen’s bedroom and leaping onto the bed, pulling the covers up to his chin.
This time, he didn’t mind the shadowy room. It felt almost safe. Safe enough to trace his lips, his fingertips not feeling nearly as good as Arsen’s lips had.
They still tingled.
Or maybe it was all in his head. Either way, Ever was shaken. His first kiss. He bit down on his lip until he tasted blood, his emotions swinging wildly like a pendulum between confusion and elation.
What did it mean? Did it mean anything? Arsen had said he didn’t want sex from Ever. Had he changed his mind? Kissing wasn’t sex. Was there a line Ever didn’t know about? Something somewhere between kissing and sex?
Ever flopped onto his belly and buried his face in the pillow, groaning at the way Arsen’s scent stirred him, made his skin hot and his pants uncomfortably tight.
He just needed to go back to sleep. Life was less confusing when he was unconscious.
