“Maybe.” Cherry’s gaze slid sideways, assessing, those storm-gray eyes catching Denis’s and holding them for a beat before he grinned dangerously. “You’d look good on it.”
“Damn right I would.” Denis laughed, and the tension between them eased, settling into something comfortable, dangerous in its own way, similar to the quiet before the readout of a verdict. He leaned back, arm stretching along the couch behind Cherry, not touching but close enough to feel the heat radiating off him. “Stick around, Cherry. I’ve got more beer, and I’m not done with you yet.”
Cherry’s smirk was slow, deliberate, a flash of teeth that sent a shiver down Denis’s spine. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not done either.” He set the beer on the coffee table, the clink of glass on wood punctuating the moment, and turned his body just enough to face Denis more fully. His knee pressed against Denis’s thigh now, a steady, grounding weight.
Denis held his gaze, letting the silence stretch, thick with unspoken things. He could see the understanding now, the flicker of hesitation in Cherry’s eyes, the way his fingers flexed against his own knee like he was bracing for something. This wasn’t just another night for him either. Denis had caught the way Cherry had stiffened earlier, when their hands brushed reaching for the same bottle, the way his breath had hitched before he’d covered it with a laugh.
First time with a man, Denis realized, the pieces clicking into place, and in the moment, Cherry had lost the sense of hesitation. If he’d been military during Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, well, it meant he’d likely been closeted for decades, carrying that weight alone. No wonder he’d been all sharp edges when he’d walked in, like a man expecting a fight.
“You don’t have to—” Denis started, voice softer now, giving him an out, but Cherry cut him off with a shake of his head.
“Don’t.” Cherry’s tone was firm, but not harsh. “I’m here ‘cause I want to be.” He leaned in, just a fraction, his breath warm against Denis’s jaw. “Been a long time comin’, that’s all.”
Denis swallowed, his pulse kicking up. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Cherry’s hand moved then, tentative at first, resting on Denis’s thigh. It was big, calloused, with a biker’s grip that tightened slightly as he found his nerve. “Gotta say, you’re makin’ it real easy, lawyer man.”
“Denis,” he corrected, voice rougher than he meant it to be. “And you’re not so bad yourself, Cherry.” He tilted his head, closing the distance until their lips were a breath apart, waiting, letting Cherry decide.
Cherry’s exhale was shaky, but he didn’t pull back. “Fuck it,” he muttered, and then he kissed him. It was hard, hungry, a dam breaking. It was all heat at first, more decades of pent-up want crashing through, but Denis met him there, hand sliding to the back of Cherry’s neck, settling him. The kiss softened after a moment, turned searching, and Cherry groaned low in his throat, a sound that vibrated through Denis’s chest.
When they broke apart, Cherry’s forehead rested against his, both of them breathing hard. “Didn’t think it’d feel like this,” Cherry admitted, voice raw, unguarded in a way that made Denis’s heart stutter.
“Like what?” Denis asked, thumb brushing along the stubble of Cherry’s jaw.
“Like I found something I’ve been missin’ my whole damn life.” Cherry pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, and the vulnerability there, the depth of his trust, hit Denis harder than the kiss had.
He grinned, leaning in to steal another quick press of lips. “Good thing I’ve got nowhere to be. We’ve got time to figure it out.”
Cherry’s laugh was quieter this time, but real, and he settled back against the couch, his hand still on Denis’s thigh, possessive now. “Yeah. Guess we do.”
?Chapter Four
Cherry
The ride back to his place was a blur with streetlights streaking past like tracer rounds, the stale air inside the rideshare pressing against his skin.
