Tristan leaned in and kissed him, their mouths fitting together like they were made for this.
Colby groaned into the kiss, his hands sliding up Tristan’s sides, under his shirt, strong and searching. “Been thinking about this,” he murmured against Tristan’s lips. “All night. Longer.”
Tristan’s breath caught. He tugged his shirt off, tossed it somewhere, and helped Colby out of his in quick, clumsy movements. Their bodies pressed together, skin to skin.
Colby’s hands slid down, gripped Tristan’s hips as if he couldn’t bear to let him go. His kisses turned messier as his tongue slid deeper into Tristan’s mouth, like he was trying to memorizeevery part of it. Tristan answered with his whole body—arching, thrusting, gasping into Colby’s touch.
They didn’t make it to the bed right away. Tristan stumbled back against the wall, dragging Colby with him, laughing breathlessly into his mouth until Colby’s thigh slipped between his. The urge to laugh suddenly disappeared, replaced by hot, hungryneedas Colby pressed in tight, all muscle and heat and intent, his hands roaming like he needed to touch all of him at once.
“You feel so fucking good,” Tristan whispered, half in disbelief, as he kissed along the edge of Colby’s jaw, down his throat. “Every time.”
Colby let out a sound that was almost a growl, low and wrecked. “Tristan, bed. Before I lose it right here.”
Tristan grinned, breathless. “I wouldn’t mind seeing that.”
But he let Colby pull him toward the bed, his heart hammering, his skin shivering with heat. They stripped out of their jeans before tumbling onto the bed, laughing and breathless, legs tangling as they shifted to fit together. The cool sheets were a jolt against overheated skin, but it only made Tristan press closer, chasing Colby’s warmth.
Tristan rolled on top of him, straddling his hips, palms braced on either side of Colby’s shoulders. For a long moment, he just looked down at him, taking in the flush across Colby’s chest, the way his pupils had blown wide, his parted lips as he breathed unevenly.
“You’re beautiful,” Tristan murmured.
You’re the one who’s beautiful,” Colby said, voice unsteady.
Tristan bent down and kissed that ache from his voice, slow and deep, and slid his hand down between them, fingers wrapping around Colby’s cock. The way Colby gasped and arched into his grip spiked heat low in Tristan’s belly, his own cock growing evenharder. He stroked once, slow and firm, and Colby’s hands flew up, clutching at Tristan’s hips like he couldn’t bear to let go.
“You okay?” Tristan whispered, even as his thumb brushed the head, already slick.
Colby’s voice shook. “Yeah. Just—keep touching me. Please.”
So he did. He shifted lower, kissing down Colby’s chest, dragging his tongue across a nipple and feeling the way Colby twitched and moaned beneath him. His hand never left Colby’s cock, keeping up a lazy rhythm as he explored with mouth and teeth and tongue.
When he finally knelt between Colby’s thighs and took him in his mouth, Colby made a sound like a sob and fisted both hands in the sheets.
“Fuck, Tristan—God, that’s—” He broke off, hips twitching up before he forced them still, trembling with the effort.
Tristan sucked him slow and deep, using his hand to stroke the base, and when he felt Colby getting close, he pulled off with a wicked smile and slid back up his body, catching his mouth in another kiss.
“I want to feel you come on my skin,” Tristan whispered, grinding their cocks together, slick between them.
That was it—Colby’s whole body locked up for a second, then he cried out, hips jerking up as he spilled.
Tristan held him through it, his hips still rolling, chasing his own high with short, desperate thrusts until he came too, gasping against Colby’s throat.
They lay tangled together in the aftermath, hearts pounding, skin cooling in the quiet. Tristan tucked his face against Colby’s neck, breathing in the smell of him, all salt and cedar andhis.
“You okay?” he asked again, because he always would.
Colby’s hand came up to thread through his hair. “Yeah,” he whispered. “More than okay.”
Tristan smiled and pressed a kiss to his skin. “Good,” he murmured.
Chapter Thirty-three
COLBY
Three days later, Colby woke alone. After a first moment of fear, he remembered—Tristan had insisted Colby stay in bed when he got up for school, said there was no need for both of them to be up at dawn.
Once Tristan had shaved and brushed his teeth, ready to go, he’d let Colby draw him down for a kiss.
