Martin pulled away. Seb wanted to tug him back just as quick, but let him cross the room and sit on the bed. Martin wore a ragged T-shirt and soft pajama pants. He scrubbed his hands over his face. “What are we even doing here? Why did you come if you knew it would be like this?”
Seb couldn’t help but sit on the edge of the mattress. He rested his head on Martin’s shoulder. “Because my grandmother was sick, and my brother is more scared of my dad than he is of me.” His head bobbed when Martin laughed.
“And what am I doing here?”
Seb nuzzled in farther, wrapping one arm around Martin’s shoulders to keep him close. “I like a challenge?”
“I think you proved that tonight.”
“I was an ass tonight. That’s not much of a challenge. But you push me, whether you know it or not. You make me want to try harder, be kinder. Maybe I thought your being here would force me to be a better version of myself. The one who isn’t cynical and quick to shoot first. I want different things when you’re around.”
“What things?” Martin coughed quietly and Seb buried a knowing smile in Martin’s T-shirt.
“That too.” He kissed the soft cotton. “ButI don’t have much. In Seacroft. I don’t know if you’ve noticed. There’s my work and my apartment, and I have Cass because she wouldn’t leave me alone until I agreed to help her. Everyone else, though...I just skim.”
“Everyone else loves you.”
“They don’t know me.” And wasn’t that a kick in the teeth? He’d lived in Seacroft for almost four years. He had acquaintances, people he passed on the street who waved hello, but that was it.
When Martin’s fingers slid under his jaw, tipping his head up to press their lips together, relief poured over Seb. If Martin let him go on much longer, he would have spilled every wish, every fearful secret he’d ever held. Seb kissed him back, shutting his eyes, trying to push away the ache, the lingering nervous energy from that freak show of a dinner. He focused on Martin: his clean washed scent, the pressure of his mouth.
The kiss turned hungry, recovering some of the heat from earlier in the afternoon, before Seb’s head filled with his family and their endless crises.
He shifted, coming up to his knees and climbing over Martin until he straddled his lap. He shed the leather jacket and let it fall to the floor, then buried his fingers in Martin’s hair while his tongue pushed into Martin’s mouth.
“Is this a good idea?” It had to be. Seb arched as warm hands curved over the small of his back. His dick twitched, and he rolled his hips.
“I’m not sure.” Martin’s eyes were bright. He was all crooked lines—his nose, his jaw, his smile.
“Should I go? Let you go back to sleep?” Seb would, if Martin told him to. It was the least he could do, after everything.
The most he could do, though...
Martin stilled, his hands on Seb’s skin, his mouth slightly open. Seb waited, counted to five, listened to the soft sound of Martin’s breath as it brushed over his chin. When he didn’t say anything, Seb put a hand on Martin’s shoulders and went to climb down. It was enough. After a night like this, one good kiss would have to be enough.
Martin moved so fast Seb didn’t see it coming. He only had time to think the professor was stronger than he looked before Seb was wrapped up in his arms, turned, and pushed onto the bed in one motion. He stared up, wide-eyed and gasping, as Martin came down over him, body pressed along Seb’s.
He groaned and pulled at Martin’s shirt, trying to shift so more of them aligned. Martin’s heavy weight on top of him was unexpected but welcome. It grounded him, brought him more into the moment, where before he’d been about to fly apart at any second.
“There is nothing wrong with you,” Martin whispered in his ear, his voice harder than Seb expected. His arousal grew at the sound. “And there is nothing wrong with me either. I am not broken. You don’t have to treat me like I am.”
The last part was a declaration, maybe not even meant for Seb. He found the hem of Martin’s T-shirt, then the warm skin underneath, and Martin growled at the contact.
“I wasn’t—” Seb’s words were cut off when Martin’s mouth found his again. Martin was wiry, all hard angles and bone against Seb’s body, but he was strong. One hand gripped Seb’s hair and tugged his head gently to one side so Martin could nibble on his jaw.
“I don’t,” Seb tried again. “I don’t even know what you like.”
“It’s been a while.”
“How long is a while?”
“Longer than months, less than never.”
Seb laughed and pushed until they rolled, so that Martin was on his back and Seb sprawled half on top of him. Martin’s shirt was rucked up, exposing the stretch of skin and hair that had first caught Seb’s imagination. He ran his fingers over it, making Martin suck his stomach down in reflex. Seb trailed his hand up under the shirt until he found a nipple. He flicked a finger over it, and Martin grunted softly.
“Take your shirt off,” Martin said.
Seb smiled. “Want to do it for me?”
