Page 39 of Save the Game

He doesn’t answer, but shifts until his cheek is pressed against my head and tightens his arms in a nonverbal response. I can’t believe I was lucky enough to stumble across Luke Kelly in a fucking all-night diner, and I really can’t believe I might be lucky enough to hold onto him. You won’t hold onto him long, though, if you can’t get yourself under control. I take a couple deep inhales of his sunshine scent, trying to breathe past the sobs that want to build in my chest.

“Hey, Maxy?”

“Yeah?” I clear my throat, hoping that I sound like my voice is gravely from passion and not pent-up tears.

“Do you want to stay here tonight, with me?”

“Oh,” I say, stalling for time as I scramble to think. I do want to stay. I want to be the kind of guy who can sleep in his boyfriend’s bed and not have it be a big deal. “Yeah, I could stay, if you wanted.”

“Do you want, was the question I asked, I believe,” he teases.

“Yeah, I want to. Of course, I want to,” I tell him firmly. The odds of me having a nightmare are low, probably. I don’t have them every night, and tonight has been so good; not even my subconscious could conjure up a horror after a night like tonight. He sighs, chest expanding enough that it jostles me. I shift my hips, feeling the way our cum is sticky between us. “Do you want me to go clean off?”

He huffs, the sound dripping with exasperation. “Good lord, no. Although I wouldn’t object if you wanted me to clean you off.”

“What does that mean?” I laugh as he hooks a leg over mine and carefully flips us so that my back is on the bed and he’s hovering over me. He leans down to kiss me, a quick peck to my cheekbone, before he slides down to where he can reach my stomach. I prop myself up on my elbows just as he flattens his tongue against me and licks a stripe through the mess.

My face and pelvis both flush with heat as I watch him. He looks up at me through his lashes, gives my stomach another lick, and then climbs off the side of the bed. Lifting my hand from where it was resting on the mattress, he kisses the back of it and strolls off naked across the room toward the bathroom. He leaves the bathroom door open and I can hear the sink running as he presumably wets a towel. I’m a little disappointed that I didn’t have a chance to repay the gesture, but I know I wouldn’t have been brave enough anyway. Something to add to the list for next time.

11

Luke

I whistle under my breath as I quickly clean myself off and head back into my room. Max is seated on the edge of my bed, briefs on and leg bouncing with apparent nervousness. I wouldn’t usually bother, but I grab a clean pair of boxers from my dresser on my way over, hopping on one foot as I pull them on.

“Do you want something to drink?” I ask him, and point toward the mini fridge I have tucked into a corner.

“Oh, sure, thank you.” He sounds stiff and formal.

I grab a water for each of us and set them on the nightstand before reaching over and running my fingers through his messy hair. He looks up at me, gold eyes wide with unease. Oh, baby, I think, and run my hand across his scalp again.

“You sure you want to stay?” I ask, trying to keep my voice as casual as possible.

“I’m sure,” he says quickly, and not sounding at all certain. I’m not going to make him leave, even though I suspect he really does want to; holding out a hand I tug him to his feet so that I can lean over the bed and pull the covers back. Max eyes my body pillow and smiles.

“Should have brought my pajama pants,” he says, smiling carefully.

“It would be a damn shame to hide those thighs underneath those ugly ass pajamas, Maxy.” He laughs, eyes lighting up. “Are you a left side of the bed, or a right side of the bed kind of guy?”

“It’s your bed,” he points out.

“Mm. And you’re my guest. I want to impress you and ensure that you keep coming back. So, left or right?”

“Right,” he says immediately. “I’d rather not be by the wall.”

I nod, pasting a smile on my face as I climb onto the bed first, even as my heart sinks. Of course, he’d prefer the outside position—less restricted and easier to get to the door. I settle on my back, entertaining thoughts of holding him against me all night, as Max climbs in next to me. He reaches over to flick off the light and the mattress shifts as he moves to lay down. I put an arm out, hoping he’ll curl up right beside me. I can’t see him, in the dark, but I can feel him pause. After a moment, the mattress shifts again and he’s here, shoulder tucked under my armpit and head partly on the pillow but mostly on me. I curl my arm around him, smiling up at the ceiling in triumph.

It takes him a second to decide how he wants his arms and legs, but eventually settles with them draped cautiously across me. I can feel the pause again, as though he’s holding his breath and waiting for me to adjust him. Tracing the pads of my fingers over his bare arm and back, I wait for him to relax.

“How many roommates do you have?” He asks suddenly.

“Four. We stay out of each other’s way pretty good, though, and most of the time on the weekends they aren’t here. I wish I had money for a place of my own, but this isn’t too bad for now.”

He lapses back into silence, adjusting his head into a more comfortable position on my shoulder. I’m extremely aware of the way I’m holding him, cognizant that I need to make it feel comforting and not aggressive.

“I sometimes have nightmares,” he tells me, voice guarded and a little bit defensive. My heart, which had been flying high on happiness all evening with him, falls to the floor and shatters.

“Okay.”

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