Page 40 of Poolside

TOMMY

Tommy stretched, a yawn cracking his jaw as he blinked at the early morning light peeking through the curtains in Chuck’s living room.

He was still in his clothes from last night, sprawled out on the couch. Sitting up, he rubbed his hands over his face and took stock of how he was feeling.Hungover?Shit. A headache throbbed behind his temple, and his stomach didn’t feel great.

He thought back on the previous night: singing, dancing, shots for David, a car ride home, and then…kissing.

Holy fucking kissing.

He’d kissed Chuck. He’d gotten to feel Chuck’s body up against his and Chuck’s hot tongue in his mouth andfuckthe noises his friend had made? Safe to say Tommy had really fucking enjoyed it, and as soon as he brushed his teeth and changed clothes he was going to go see about doing it again.

Last night, Tommy hadn’t known exactly how to approach his new interest in his best friend, but it had felt so easy to go from from seeing Chuck as the best guy he knew to the best guy who wasalsopretty as fuck.

Tommy had thought that, after more than ten years of friendship, he’d known Chuck’s face, but last night he’d felt like he was looking at his friend for the first time. How had he never noticed Chuck’s eyelashes were the same red as his hair, or that there was a cluster of freckles at the base of his long, graceful neck? The way his blue eyes sparkled when he laughed and softened when he looked at the people he cared about.

His gaze had been drawn to Chuck’s jutting collarbones, to his smile that was maybe the most beautiful thing Tommy’d ever seen. His attention got stuck on his long fingers and the lean muscles of his freckled forearms.

He noticed Chuck in a way he’d never noticed him before, and every part of Tommy was ready, hungry to move on to whatever came next.

A conversation seemed like a good place to start.

He thought Chuck had been into it, based on how his body and mouth had moved against him, but Tommy knew better than to make assumptions based on a drunken makeout. He thought about what he would say first as he padded over to the guest bathroom, retrieving the spare toothbrush and whitening toothpaste he kept stashed there.

The bite of the mint chased away the last of his whiskey breath, and once he’d splashed his face with water, Tommy changed into sweats and a t-shirt in the guest room.

His footsteps were muffled on the long runner rug that ran the length of the hallway. When he reached the closed door to Chuck’s bedroom, he twisted the knob carefully and stepped inside.

Tommy had always loved what Chuck had done with his room. There was something about the gray-blue walls and the black and white framed photographs combined with the lighter wood of his dresser and frame for his king bed that made the room feel like it belonged in a vacation home.

Sir Mix-A-Lot, Chuck’s ancient, black cat that was the most shy of the three, blinked at Tommy from his perch on a folded blanket on top of the dresser. Angel was stretched out on her back on the cushioned bench at the foot of the bed, and Bones was curled up in the crook of Chuck’s knee.

Tommy couldn’t keep the fond smile from his face as he walked around to the side of the king bed. Chuck slept curled in a tight ball on his side, perfectly positioned in the middle of the bed with his hair fanned out against the white pillowcase and his expression soft and peaceful.

The bed dipped under his weight as Tommy climbed onto the bed and lay on his side facing Chuck. He reached out a finger andboopedChuck on the tip of his nose.

Chuck scrunched up his face and groaned, burrowing down into his pillow.

“Good morning, Ginger Snap.”

At that Chuck blinked his blue eyes open. “No.”

Tommy grinned. “What? No Ginger Snap?”

“That’s not going to be a thing.” Chuck stifled a yawn, rolling over to his back and arching his chest with another groan. “How are you feeling?”

Tommy’s eyes dropped to the smooth skin of Chuck’s bare chest, wondering what his nipples would feel like under his tongue. “Like shit, but otherwise I’m good.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

Tommy shifted, propping himself up on one elbow so that he could look down at his friend. “So.”

“So,” Chuck parroted back.

“I kissed you last night.”

Chuck stifled a yawn, but Tommy could see something shift on his face. “Yeah, you did,” he said quietly, before arching his brows at Tommy. “What was that about, huh?”

“I wanted to.”

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