Glaring, Cade insisted, "Tris, this is serious."
Tristan stifled another chuckle and placed a quick kiss on those pursed lips. "We will. We'll work it out."
"If you say so."
"I do. Now, let's head to bed. I want to shower first because I feel disgusting. Do you need a shower too?"
"Yeah, that'd be great."
Tristan showed Cade to the bathroom, then lay on the bed, trying to stay awake. A few minutes later, Cade found him in his bedroom wearing only boxer briefs and a tight t-shirt. Despite his fatigue, Tristan's gaze trickled down to Cade's thighs, and he felt a buzz of desire.
Would he ever get used to the beauty of Cade's body? He hoped not.
Dragging himself upright, he told Cade, "Make yourself comfortable. I won't be long."
Cade stopped him as he passed, tilted his chin up and placed a soft kiss on his lips. "Take your time."
Tristan's heart was still fluttering from that kiss as he entered the bathroom and stripped. While the water heated, he tossed his clothes into a heap and debated whether he should throw them in the trash or maybe burn them to avoid the memories they might trigger. He washed quickly, eager for his own bed after a week.
And Cade.
It had only been seven days, but it seemed like a lifetime ago when he first encountered Cade at Wilson's house. So much had happened, and he knew he would need time to unpack it all.
But not tonight. Tonight, he needed sleep and the comfort of his man.
The idea that Cade was really his now made him smile even as a slow shiver slid up his spine.
Drying his body, he realized he didn't have clean clothes in the bathroom with him. Again. He really needed to break that habit. Or not.
Too tired to worry, he brushed his teeth and returned to his bedroom with the towel wrapped around his waist. He found Cade lying on top of the covers in black boxer briefs, his hands folded under his head, his snug t-shirt clinging to his biceps and accentuating his pecs so exquisitely that Tristan felt a zing of desire.
Forgoing modesty, he dropped his towel and pulled on a pair of boxers out of his dresser. Turning, he saw Cade's eyes rake over him with appreciation.
"Reminds me of the first time I saw you naked," his boyfriend commented, his sultry tone making Tristan's dick twitch.
"Yeah?" he prompted as he climbed into bed facing him. "What did you think that first time?"
Rolling so they lay nose to nose, Cade reached out and threaded his fingers through damp, red locks. "That you were gorgeous. Perfect."
The words twisted Tristan's stomach in knots and blanketed his skin with goosebumps.
"You keep using that word," he murmured, unable to believe it applied to him.
"It's true. That's what I thought. That's what I still think."
As he soaked in the truth of Cade's declaration, the world suddenly righted on its axis, and it struck him that he didn't need to be perfect, neither of them did; it only mattered that they were perfect to each other, for each other. He didn't know what to say, couldn't find the appropriate response to that sweet, honest statement.
"Oh," was all he could manage.
Cade reached out to graze his thumb over one dark circle under Tristan's eye. "You look like shit. You should go to sleep. I want to know everything that happened, and I know you have questions for me too, but it can wait till tomorrow."
"Yeah, it can wait," Tristan agreed as he nuzzled his cheek into the large, rough palm.
Cade scooted closer until their chests pressed together. His eyes held Tristan's as he leaned over to press their lips together in a soft, nibbling kiss. He didn't push, didn't demand anything, only waited for Tristan to react, giving him a choice to break the kiss and go to sleep, or...
Threading his fingers through short dark hair, Tristan tugged gently as he deepened the kiss. Cade groaned and met his tongue and lips with equal fervor, and their mouths tangled as their bodies crushed together, seeking more friction, more contact, more of each other.
"Cade," he breathed out when the other man released his mouth to kiss across his jaw to his ear.
