They stood there for a minute, then Bryce tipped his head toward the couch. “Wanna sit?”
“Yeah,” Sage said.
They crossed the room together, and Bryce turned the small lamp on. The soft pool of light caught the edge of the coffee table and the arm of the couch they’d worn smooth over three years. Same furniture but now different, which seemed strange to Bryce but also not because things had changed between him and Sage. He shook his head at his own thoughts.
Bryce sat first, and Sage dropped down next to him, close enough for their knees to brush. Bryce kept his hands in hislap for a second so he wouldn’t reach for Sage even though he wanted to.
After a minute or so of silence, Bryce spoke. “I keep thinking about earlier. The walk back. The part where you didn’t let go of my hand.
Sage’s mouth tugged. “I didn’t want to let go.”
“Me either.”
Bryce turned, letting his knee press into Sage’s. “Okay if I—”
“Yeah,” Sage said.
Bryce leaned in slowly, giving Sage the chance to pull away if he wanted to, but he didn’t. Sage met him there. One of Sage’s hands settled at Bryce’s side, warm through the shirt, fingers spreading and holding. He kept his palm at Sage’s jaw, thumb finding the rough edge where the razor had missed. His other hand found Sage’s hip and stayed.
They kissed, lips brushing, tongues touching. Sage shifted to face him more. Bryce moved closer, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.
“Still okay?” Bryce asked.
“Yeah,” Sage said, low. “You?”
“Yeah.”
“Can I make it easier?” Bryce asked. “Shirt off?”
Sage nodded. “Yeah.”
They didn’t make a show of it. They took their shirts off, and Bryce stared at Sage’s chest. He’d seen it before, but never like this. Bryce put his hand on Sage’s shoulder and drew a slow line to his ribs with his fingertips. He felt the shiver under his palm and had to breathe through his own.
“Okay?” Sage asked.
“Yeah,” Bryce said. His voice came out rougher than he meant.
The next kiss felt deeper now that they had no shirts on. Sage’s hand slipped up Bryce’s back and stopped under his shoulder blade, gentle pressure that kept him there without pulling.Bryce’s palm stayed at Sage’s ribs before sliding up his chest, his fingers skimming over one of Sage’s nipples.
Bryce pulled his hand back, swallowed before murmuring, “I don’t want to rush, but I want more.”
“We won’t rush,” Sage said. “We’ll go at a pace that fits us.”
“Stop means stop.”
“Always.”
They kept kissing as their hands slowly moved over warm skin. Bryce let his mouth drift over Sage’s cheek, jaw, the hinge where Sage tensed when he focused. He pressed a soft kiss there and felt Sage’s breath catch, his fingers dig into Bryce’s skin.
Sage’s hand slid to Bryce’s neck, fingers tugging on the hair there. “Tell me what you want.”
Bryce swallowed. “I want to take care of you.”
Sage’s eyes were darker around the edges now. He searched Bryce’s face. “You sure?”
“Yeah,” Bryce said. “If you’re good.”
“I’m good,” Sage said.
