“I don’t planeverything.”
He sighs, smiling against my shoulder. “Could have fooled me.”
He grabs another towel and cleans my torso best he can before folding up the spoiled towels and setting them aside. We lay down and face each other. He pushes my hair back from my forehead, lets his fingers trail down the curve of my ear before settling on my neck, my pulse thrumming against his palm.
“I’ve been overthinkingyour Christmas present.” He blinks, like he can’t believe he just said that.
“Why?” I chuckle. “And for how long? I got everyone gifts when I was in Japan.”
I probably shouldn’t tell him everyone else got convenience store snacks.
“I wasn’t sure if we were going to do gifts,” he admits. “But Ididwant to get you something. I thought, books, but you already read for class, and I don’t know what all you’ve read. Then I thought about music, but do people still use CDs? Jewelry feels like a commitment. I almost bought you pink hair dye."
“You think I should dye my hair pink?”
He shrugs. “I justknowthat’s something you want.”
“All those things sound nice.” I scoot closer to him, nesting myself under his neck so now I can hear the thud of his heart. “You don’t have to worry so much about impressing me. You’re very impressive, Christos.”
He rubs the center of my back. He’s so quiet I can barely hear him over his pulse. “I want to match you.” Before I can pry, he says louder now, “We still have dessert.”
“What, like a post sex snack?”
“You say that like it isn’t the greatest idea ever.”
“You’re right.” Despite the greatest idea ever requiring one of us to go downstairs, I wrap my arms around his hips.
“Well, you brought up thigh fucking, so I guess it’s the second greatest idea ever,” he concedes.
Eventually, we make it back downstairs. We set the bowl of fruit between us and take turns feeding it to each other. He sets blueberries on my tongue and sucks kiwi juice off my fingers. Whenever we pause for a kiss, our lips are sticky sweet.
“I think your idea was better than mine,” I say right before he feeds me a strawberry.
“We can both take credit for a good night.” He tosses a chunk of pineapple and catches it in his mouth.
“Right…” I pick up half a grape and start to bring it to his mouth but decide to toss it instead. Again, he catches it with ease. I shake my head. “Such a jock. Were you really stressing over my Christmas present?”
“Not stressed…” He shrugs. “A little anxious, maybe…” He leans back as if relaxing, but there’s a stiffness in his shoulders. “We never established arulefor presents.”
“Why would we need a rule for that?”
He rummages around the remaining fruit. “We’ve got rules for everything else.” He finds a blueberry and pops it into his mouth without any flourish.
Noteverything.It’s not like I don’t want to sleep over. The rules are in place so we don’t get caught, but I have an alibi tonight.
“The rules can… change.”
He glances up at me through his eyelashes. I don’t care if this bites me in the ass later.
“I can sleep over tonight.”
His perks up, his ears flapping. “It’s okay if you can’t, I didn’t mean—”
I shove a piece of pineapple in his mouth before covering his lips with my palm. “I told Terrence I wouldn’t be home till tomorrow anyway. Plus, I’m jet lagged as fuck and your bed is way nicer than that foam atrocity in my dorm room.” I release his face. “I can even stay for breakfast, if you want.”
He smiles softly and takes a beat like he’s savoring this little moment. “I’d like that a lot.”
My face is plasteredon the front entryway of my dorm. The posters have a familiar aesthetic of flames, bald eagles, and impact font. I grab one of the many. I’d recognize my ISU headshot anywhere, even stretched and blown up so myface takes up the entire frame except for the bottom text that reads “the sexual tension between me and six inches of cold hard Steele.”
