“You tired?” Tristan asked quietly. “It’s been kind of a day.”
Colby gave a tiny nod. “I think so.”
There was something apologetic in his tone. Like he was tired but wasn’t sure if he should say so.
“Okay,” Tristan said. “I’ll show you where you’re sleeping.”
He led Colby down the hallway, nerves suddenly thrumming under his skin as he thought about sleeping arrangements. About Colby in bed.
He was hyperaware of the sound of their footsteps on the worn floorboards, of Colby’s soft breaths, and he could have sworn he felt the heat of Colby’s body, close behind him as he opened the door to the spare room. For once, it was free of the usual crap that seemed to accumulate there.
“I’ll get you some more clothes,” Tristan said, waving at the chest of drawers, where he intended to put them. “Karl won’t mind. I can get jeans and t-shirts, but I’m not sure what else because I don’t know what you like to sleep in. I mean, if you sleep in anything—it would be totally fine if you don’t. Not that I was thinking about that. Or about you. In bed. Naked.”
Oh my God. Someone please shoot him.
Colby laughed. Actuallylaughed. Low and quiet, but real.
Tristan was still waiting for the floor to open beneath his feet and get him out of this, but part of him knew that if he shut up now, he’d never have the guts to say this. Hehadto carry on.
“So I’ll—um. I’ll be in my room, just down the hallway, if you need anything. Or want anything.” He gulped in air that was suddenly in short supply. “I mean, unless you want something different, or—I don’t know. Just… I thought maybe you’d be more comfortable here than, you know, sharing a bed. With me.”
His face was so hot hisearswere burning. “I wasn’t assuming we’d sleep together—like, together together. I mean, not sleep together that way. I just—ugh.”
Colby closed the few steps between them, and reaching out, took Tristan’s hand in his. “I’d like that,” he said softly.
Tristan stared at him, almost unable to process his words. Until he realized they were exactly what he’d dreamed Colby might say. He smiled at Colby, and it turned into a grin so wide, his cheeks hurt.
But as they walked down the hallway to his room, a quieter kind of joy settled inside him as he realized the trust Colby was putting in him.
In Tristan’s room, the perfect, dreamlike moment disappeared as they both stood there awkwardly, like neither of them knew what to do next.
“I’ll, uh—” Tristan grabbed his pajamas from the dresser. “I’ll go change in the bathroom. So I’m not, like. Stripping. In front of you. Unless you want me to. Which you probably don’t.”
Colby was grinning now, and only a brain transplant would remove the memory of this mortification. He gave Colby a thumbs-up like an absolute dork, then fled into the bathroom.
He didn’t venture out until the last of the red had faded from his cheeks. When he did, he found Colby sitting on the bed. He looked up at Tristan, and the heavy, expressionless look that was so often on his face softened into something like welcome.
“There’s some new toothbrushes in the cabinet,” Tristan said. “I keep a few because I always forget to charge my toothbrush. Help yourself.”
Colby nodded silently, and made his way to the bathroom, leaving Tristan to climb into bed andnotthink about what might happen when Colby joined him there.
COLBY
He shut the bathroom door quietly behind him. There’d been a smile in Tristan’s voice as he’d told Colby to help himself. The same kindness that had been there in every interaction.
He opened the cabinet. The toothbrushes were there, just like Tristan said. So was a bottle of lube.
It made sense, all of a sudden, why Tristan was offering him a toothbrush. He’d been supposed to find the lube. It had been an instruction.
He lost time, coming back to himself sitting on the laundry hamper, the small bottle in his hands and a weight in his chest.He remembered.
He remembered what came after “sweetheart,” what came after “be good for me.”
He uncapped the bottle. Set it down again. Then just sat there, elbows on his knees, heart slowly climbing into his throat.
Tristan hadn’t asked for anything. But the lube had been there for him to find. To use.
He sat motionless. The part of him that knew how to think, how to speak, felt far away again.
