Gabe’s sleeves are rolled up, his hair shoved back like he’s been fighting with it. There’s a little furrow between his brows, but when he sees me, it smooths.
“Hi,” he says, his eyes tracking me as I enter.
“Hi,” I echo, shutting the door behind me and stepping into the room.
I sit, close enough that our thighs press. He angles the laptop toward me, scowling faintly at it.
“I tried to get started without you, but I’m not good at this,” he mutters, fingers trailing along his scar. I catch his wrist lightly, and his eyes widen a fraction as I bring his hand to my mouth and press a kiss into his fingertips. Color rushes to his cheeks, and he blows out a slow breath.
“That’s not true,” I tell him. “You’re getting there.”
He lets out a breath and nods, then starts typing. “YA queer joy,” he mumbles as he types. “Trans memoir. Lesbian lit.” His fingers hover. “And… I think I might split romance into subgenres.”
“Good idea. That’s smart,” I say. “We could easily do that.”
His cheeks flush again. “You’ve said that a few times.” His voice dips. “We.”
I reach out and tip his chin until his gaze meets mine. “We,” I repeat resolutely. I graze my knuckles along his jaw, and he leans into my touch, eyes fluttering at the contact. He nods, “Yeah… we.”
The rain outside is soft now, just a light patter against the window. Gabe leans further into me, his arm brushing mine, and it feels like electricity under my skin.
“Thank you,” he says suddenly.
“For what?”
“For making this feel achievable.”
My throat works. “You were always going to do it. I’m just here for snacks and moral support.”
His mouth curves. “Sure. As if you’re not doing every step with me.”
I bump his shoulder lightly. “I’m being selfish, really. I get to spend more time with you this way.”
That earns me a quiet laugh, the kind I want to bottle up and keep.
“Plus,” I murmur, letting my fingers trace the delicate skin behind his ear. “We make a good team.”
He likes that, his cheeks go a beautiful rosy pink, and he looks down toward the keyboard, trying to hide his smile.
We work until the site starts to come together and we have a working home page. Gabe leans back, rubbing at the back of his neck, the crease between his brows deepening like the pressure of all this is still pressing on him.
I turn, closing the space between us. “Hey.”
His eyes flick to mine, and I reach out and smooth my thumb over that little furrow until it eases. “There you are,” I murmur.
The tips of his ears flush pink, and before he can duck his head, I lean in and press a slow kiss to his scarred cheek. He gasps, and when I pull back, color has spread all the way down his neck. His eyes are dark, heavy-lidded.
“Noah.” My name escapes him on a needy sound that shoots straight to my cock. “Kiss me.”
It’s not a question, it’s a demand laced in softness.
The first brush of lips is soft, but it deepens quickly, his hand fisting in my shirt. I taste the faint sweetness of tea, feel his warm breath against my damp lips, and it’s enough to take me apart.
I cradle the back of his neck, thumb stroking, drawing him closer until our chests connect. I can feel his heart beating against me.
I’ve been careful until now, but heat sparks low under my skin. My palm slides down his side, over the line of his hip, settling on his thigh. The muscle jumps under my touch, so I give the lightest squeeze—
And he jolts so hard the kiss breaks.
