Chapter Six
Bryce’s mouth was warm. Beer on his breath. He paused like he was asking a question without words. Sage answered by leaning in.
Coats pressed against his back. The bass outside dropped to a dull thud. Someone tried to do a countdown but lost track. Sage ignored it all. He focused on the smaller things. The light drag of Bryce’s bottom lip, the bump of noses when they both shifted, the way Bryce sighed like he’d been holding it for too long.
This was supposed to be simple. A kiss and done. Enough for the noisy room outside, then Bryce’s hand slid along the side seam of Sage’s T-shirt and gripped it. Sage opened a little, and Bryce met him. There was no rush or push. Just intent and then the kiss changed, becoming deeper.
Heat built faster than Sage anticipated. His fingers went to Bryce’s shoulder and then slid into his hair. It was softer than it looked. When he tightened his grip a little, Bryce made a low sound that hit Sage hard. Bryce shifted them closer without crowding. Shoulder to knee, Sage felt all of him. Felt his arousal.
“Okay?” Bryce whispered.
“Yeah,” Sage groaned. His voice came out lower than he meant.
Bryce’s fingers pressed into Sage’s side, and Sage’s body lit up to it. His thumb ran along the hinge of Bryce’s jaw and caught on the stubble. Bryce’s palm covered the small of Sage’s back and held him there. Every time Sage’s hand tightened in Bryce’s hair, Bryce answered with that same low sound. Their tongues touched, slid together, Bryce’s stubble scratched Sage’s skin.
The door rattled once, voices shushed, and time stretched. Sage didn’t know how long they had. He knew one thing, though. Stopping felt wrong, but going faster felt risky. Bryce edged a foot forward and their legs lined up. Heat jumped along Sage’s thigh. His breath caught. Bryce kissed him through it, slow and deep. Sage kept his grip on Bryce’s hair and tugged once. The small pull sent a shiver through Bryce that Sage felt everywhere they touched.
“Time!” someone yelled.
They didn’t break immediately. Bryce gave him one more slow kiss like he wanted more, and Sage let him. A fist hit the door, and that ended their kiss. They pulled apart slowly, breathing hard. Sage let the coats take his weight and looked. Bryce’s mouth was pink, lips puffy and wet. His hair was a mess where Sage’s hand had been. His eyes were darker than gray. Open. A little shocked, showing the same emotion Sage felt.
“Guess the experiment’s done,” Sage murmured. His voice wasn’t steady.
“Results inconclusive,” Bryce whispered.
The door cracked. Noise poured in. Lizzie whooped. Dan yelled about extra credit or some shit. Tara told everyone to shut up. Bryce pushed the door and stepped out with a smirk that kept people from looking too close, which Sage appreciated.
“Satisfied?” Bryce called, arms flung wide.
More noise followed Bryce’s statement as Sage stepped out behind him. The room felt cooler after being in the closet. He put on a half-smile and let the jokes bounce off him. Someone asked how dark the closet was. “Dark enough,” he said. Someone suggested a camera, and Tara threw a napkin. Fine. Sage could handle the noise.
Bryce dropped onto the couch, grabbed a beer, and drank like it could wash the night off. He didn’t look over at Sage. He took the chair by the wall and let his chest settle. The beer in his hand was warm, but he drank it anyway. He needed it after that kiss and the way it had affected him.
The game stuttered through two more spins and eventually died. One by one, people left, and the apartment fell into silence.
Sage stood. “Trash first,” he said, more to himself than to Bryce, just to have a task. He moved through the room. Bottles clinked. Cups stacked. The table got wiped. His brain kept trying to replay the closet. He pushed back and scrubbed harder. He found Lizzie’s bent plastic fork under the couch and put it on the counter.
Bryce stayed on the couch. Stayed still.
Sage tied off the last bag and turned. Bryce had his arm along the back cushion and his head tipped against it. At a glance, he looked bored. The tight mouth and white knuckles on the fabric said otherwise.
Sage drew a breath. “We need to talk.”
Bryce didn’t move. “About what?”
“The closet.”
“Nothing happened.”
“Bryce,” Sage murmured.
Bryce looked at him, his eyes narrowed. “What?”
“I felt you.”
Bryce sat up fast. “Yeah? I felt you too. We’re men. We’re easily pleased.”
“Is that what you want to call it?”
