Jules exhaled, shaky and uneven. “You didn’t ask.”
“I didn’t think you’d let me if I did.”
They turned, heart racing, and looked at him—really looked. He stood there with his arms crossed, not defensive, just steady. Like he wasn’t afraid of all the sharp, messy parts of Jules.
“I don’t know what to do with that,” Jules whispered.
Keaton shrugged, one corner of his mouth lifting. “You don’t have to do anything.”
They glanced back at the painting, then at Keaton. “You really like it?”
“I wouldn’t hang something I didn’t.”
They stood toe-to-toe, the weight of what Keaton had said—what he’d done—curling around Jules’s ribs like something alive. That painting on the wall, the grilled cheese, the way he’d waited up. It all said more than he ever had aloud.
Jules stepped in, heart pounding, and kissed him.
It wasn’t a dramatic thing. No sweeping arms or desperate mouths. Just a quiet press of lips to lips, unhurried and full of questions. Are we doing this? Are we ready? Do you want me like I want you?
Keaton answered with a soft sigh, one hand finding Jules’s hip, fingers curling there like it was second nature. His grip wasn’t hard, just firm enough to ground them when they felt like they might float out of their own skin.
The kiss deepened slowly, mouths parting, breath catching. Jules’s hands slipped into the soft cotton of Keaton’s T-shirt, clinging to the sides like they needed something real to hold on to. Keaton’s body was solid, warm, and steady in a way that made Jules feel both safe and undone.
They broke the kiss, foreheads pressing together, breath mingling. Jules’s voice came out quieter than they meant, a thread of sound barely holding together.
“Are we doing this?”
Keaton’s thumb brushed their hipbone. “Only if you want to.” He lifted his head just enough to meet Jules’s gaze, his voice low andrough. “Every part of me wants you. But only if you want this too.”
“I do,” Jules said. No hesitation.
Keaton nodded once, then stepped back—not away, just enough to take Jules’s hand. He didn’t pull them to the couch like Jules expected. He turned toward the bedroom.
Jules followed, heart thudding hard. It wasn’t nerves, not exactly. It was the feeling that this wasn’t like the other times. They’d had sex in unfamiliar beds and on creaky futons, in dorm rooms with posters of indie bands they didn’t like, with people who only wanted a piece of them—their mouth, their body, the novelty of someone different.
But nothing had ever felt like this.
There was a quiet certainty that Keaton would still be there when the lights came back on.
The bedroom was dim, the overhead light off, the bedside lamp casting a soft glow across the sheets Keaton had probably straightened before lying down because, of course, he had. Jules’s throat tightened, affection curling hard and fast in their chest.
Keaton turned to face them, hands resting lightly on Jules’s hips. “You okay?”
Jules nodded. “Yeah. Just want this to last. Part of me feels like I must be dreaming.”
“You’re definitely wide awake.” Keaton leaned in and kissed the corner of their mouth. “Let me take care of you.”
That did them in.
They kissed again, slower this time, like they both knew they had time. Keaton’s hands slid beneath Jules’s sweater, warm palms skimming over the curve of their back, the dip of their waist. Jules let out a soft moan, fingers curling into the fabric of Keaton’s T-shirt, tugging it up.
“Take this off,” Jules murmured, and Keaton obeyed without a word, pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it to the side. He didn’t want to wait another second to see what Keaton kept hidden under those shirts.
Jules’s breath caught. Keaton was all broad shoulders and lean muscle, with a trail of dark hair leading down his stomach that made their mouth go dry. He looked strong in a way that wasn’t showy—just quiet, earned strength. The kind that came from years of lifting drywall and carrying weight that wasn’t always physical.
“You’re so fucking hot,” Jules said, voice low, almost reverent.
Keaton huffed a laugh, hand gripping the hem of Jules’s sweater. “Let me see you.”
