Enzo spent the next few minutes mapping the dips and grooves of the inside of Seven’s mouth, swallowing every needy sound that escaped before the other could hold it back. Every time Seven’s hips would rut upwards, Enzo would move away until he calmed down.
“I love kissing you,” Seven whispered against his lips, almost like he hadn’t meant to say it.
A low groan escaped before Enzo could stop it. “I love kissing you, too,” he said against his lips.
Their mouths found each other like magnets—every time they parted, they came back together, each new kiss a little hotter, a little dirtier, a bit more intense. Seven’s tongue moved against Enzo’s in a way that had his cock starting to take notice no matter how vigilant he was about keeping this to just kissing.
He needed to stop this. He was still in his work clothes. He needed a shower, comfortable clothes. He needed to feed Seven. He released Seven’s wrists as he dragged himself away from the younger boy’s swollen lips, his heart giving a silly little stutter when Seven made a noise of complaint.
“Why are we stopping?” he pouted.
“Because I need to shower,” Enzo answered. “And we need to eat. I’ll order the food now. You just have to grab it from the delivery driver when the doorman sends him up. If I’m not out yet, you can start eating without me.”
Seven huffed, folding his arms over his chest, glowering at Enzo. “How long of a shower are you planning on taking, you diva? What does it matter? We’re not going anywhere.”
“You know, most guys like having a boyfriend who’s hygienic,” Enzo said, poking the tip of his nose.
He only realized what he was saying as the words were passing his lips. If he could have sucked them back in, he would have.
Seven looked stricken. “B-Boyfriend?”
Enzo closed his eyes and prayed for a black hole to open and release him from this mortal coil. “Well…I mean…” He could feel his face heating up. “Are we not there yet?”
Seven blinked up at him, his shock evident. “You tell me.”
Enzo searched his face, trying to guess what Seven’s reaction would be if he just…told the truth. “This is kind of a heavy conversation to have after the day you had.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have used the word boyfriend,” Seven retorted. “But you did, so…here we are.”
Fuck.
“Can we sit up for this, at least?” Enzo asked.
“Do we need to?” Seven countered. “Is it that hard to say that you want to be my boyfriend?”
Enzo heaved a heavy sigh. Was that what he thought? That he didn’t want that? “It’s hard for someone like me to…” He trailed off.
“To…” Seven prompted, giving him an expectant look.
“To say what’s going on in my head right now, because I don’t want to spook you.”
Seven huffed out a humorless laugh. “Spook me? By saying you want to be my boyfriend?”
“By saying I wanna be your husband,” he blurted.
Seven’s mouth fell open, his eyes widening almost comically. Enzo didn’t blame him. That was not at all what he’d meant to say. Wow, he was spectacularly bad at this. At all of this. In truth, his ex had dodged a bullet. Nobody should have to put up with his emotional whiplash.
Seven opened and closed his mouth several times, looking a bit like a fish out of water. Finally, he seemed to settle on a bewildered, “Since when have you wanted to ma—to do the thing you said…with me, I mean?”
Enzo dropped his head to Seven’s chest, hiding his face. He’d been right. Seven, wrapped in his scent, smelling like his soap, his shampoo, his detergent—it was too much. He pressed his cheek to Seven’s heart, feeling it gallop beneath him. “Can we just forget I said it? Like, as a favor?”
“That depends,” Seven answered, the sound rumbling against Enzo’s ear.
Enzo counted to ten before he said, “On what?”
“Did you…mean it?” Seven asked, his voice small.
Enzo once more pressed his face into Seven’s chest, words muffled as he asked, “Which answer is less likely to make you run screaming into the night?”
