“So are you,” he said, fingers sliding up under Tristan’s shirt in return. “Can I?”
Tristan lifted his arms, breath catching as Colby pulled the fabric over his head. When their skin met, Tristan’s breath punched out of him, and everything seemed to blur. They explored each other, though their hands stayed above the waist, and Tristan had never known anything like the feel of Colby’s cock pressed against his. Didn’t matter there were layers of cotton between them. There was enough friction, and the knowledge that Colby was hard because of him left him gasping into Colby’s mouth. They kept rocking gently against one another, and the soft noises Colby was making were driving Tristan out of his mind.
He came first, pressing his forehead against Colby’s shoulder to try and anchor himself as he shuddered, helpless with pleasure that was like nothing he’d known before. He was dazed with it, full of something that felt like love. He barely had time to catch his breath before Colby gasped and then went still, clinging to Tristan like he was the only thing keeping him grounded.
They stayed tangled together afterward, quiet and slow, catching their breath in the hush. Colby’s fingers were in Tristan’s hair, Tristan’s arm curled tight around Colby’s waist. The world had narrowed to the warmth where their bodies touched. But as their breathing slowly steadied, the haze started to lift.
“Oh,” Tristan said faintly. Not an entirely happy sound as he realized he’d come in his pajamas.
Colby huffed a breath of laughter. “Yeah.”
They were both still dressed from the waist down. Wet stickiness was cooling uncomfortably, and Tristan was suddenly,painfullyaware of just how unsexy post-orgasmic cleanup could be.
“So,” he said, very casually, staring at the ceiling like it might offer escape from the embarrassment of having come in his pants. “That happened.”
“Think so,” Colby murmured, and there was something dry and amused in his voice that Tristan hadn’t heard before. Not mocking, but wry. Lighter than anything he’d said earlier. It made Tristan’s chest squeeze.
Tristan shifted a little and winced. This wasn’t going to go away just because he ignored the embarrassment. “Okay. We are definitely going to need clean underwear.”
Colby gave a quiet groan. “Don’t suppose you’ve got any that’ll fit?”
“Possibly? Hang on.” Tristan wriggled out of bed, padding barefoot across the room, trying to ignore the damp fabric clinging to him. He opened a drawer and rifled through it. “You’re not allowed to judge me for my underwear choices, by the way.”
He turned around and tossed a folded pair of boxers at Colby.
Colby caught them, looked down, and blinked. “Singing bananas.”
“They’refun. Shut up.”
Colby’s lips twitched. “I like them.”
Tristan’s cheeks warmed, and he grabbed another pair for himself. “Bathroom’s yours first, if you want it.”
But Colby didn’t move immediately. He was looking at the boxers in his hands, still half smiling. “Thanks,” he said, and it was more than politeness. It held a kind of wonder.
“It’s just laundry,” Tristan said softly.
Colby shook his head. “It’s not.” And then the smile on his face faded and he looked at Tristan, uncertain once more. “I, uh…found something earlier,” he said quietly. “In your bathroom cabinet.”
Tristan blinked, mentally running through what the hell he kept in there that could cause that wariness in Colby’s voice and coming up blank. “Okay?”
“Lube,” Colby said. “I thought it meant something. That you were expecting…” He trailed off, then met Tristan’s eyes. “But you weren’t.”
How could Colby have even thought that? His instant of indignation disappeared as he realized that, for Colby, everything was a trap. Fail to understand the instruction, fail to obey it in the way Nico wanted—he cut those thoughts off before he got angry, because Colby would misread that, too.
Instead, he held Colby’s gaze and let him see the truth of his answer. “No. I wasn’t.”
Colby nodded, but seemed to have run out of words.
Tristan crossed the room to sit on the bed beside him, where he reached out and touched Colby’s arm. Grounding, undemanding contact, or so he hoped.
“You don’t have to do anything just because you think I want it. You know that, right?”
Colby nodded, but he bit his lip as he did so.
“What am I missing here?” Tristan asked. “I know I shouldn’t have to ask, but I don’t know. And I don’t want to screw up and hurt you.”
Colby’s eyes were soft and wondering as he looked at Tristan, as if he’d said something amazing rather than the simple truth.
