Page 66 of Role Model

“It’s impressive,” Harris agreed.

“And he’s gay, too.”

Okay. That seemed like a non sequitur. “I don’t think being gay makes flying scarier.”

“No, I mean, like, that’s fucking brave too. Two things Dallas thinks are weak, being afraid and being gay, but they aren’t. I wish I’d...” He sighed. “I wish I’d done everything differently. I should have supported Ryan and told Dallas to go fuck himself.”

“Probably,” Harris said. He wanted to say something more substantial, but his brain was in tatters and Troy’s mouth was very close to his.

Troy flopped onto his back, creating some distance, but not removing the temptation. “I have so many regrets.”

Harris was about to create a regret of his own if he didn’t stamp out the burning need to kiss Troy. Because, yeah, it had been a weird night, and, yes, they had been holding hands on the plane, and, sure, Troy was lying beside him now in the dark after coming to his hotel room with cookie dough ice cream.

But none of that meant that Troy wanted anything from Harris besides some companionship. Troy was straight, as far as Harris knew, and even if he wasn’t, he was the most beautiful man Harris had ever seen. He could do better than an apple farmer with a busted heart.

“So what’s on your mind?” Troy asked. “I’m unloading on you like a selfish jerk over here.”

“You’re not a jerk. I like it when you talk to me. And I don’t know what’s on my mind right now. A million things, but I’m too tired to figure them out.” Harris laughed. “I was thinking about watching porn earlier, if you want total honesty. But my laptop is broken and I turned my phone off and shoved it to the bottom of my suitcase. Don’t want to look at it until I have to.”

“Same,” Troy said quietly, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “Porn, huh?”

Harris probably shouldn’t have mentioned that. “Yeah. Just thought it would be a good distraction.”

“It would be.” Something bright was on the television screen, and for a few seconds, Harris got a clear view of Troy’s cheekbones, his full lips, and the shadow of stubble on his jaw.

Harris needed to change the vibe. Immediately. “Do you want some ice cream? You should at least try it.”

Troy turned his head to glance up at Harris. “Is it good?”

“It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted. Here.” He held out a spoonful of ice cream, hovering it over Troy’s lips. Troy stared at the spoon, as if unsure if it was safe. Then, slowly, he leaned forward, and parted his lips. Harris slipped the spoon inside and watched Troy’s face as the sweet, silky ice cream hit his tongue.

Troy’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, those long, raven-wing lashes brushing his cheekbones. The tip of his tongue peeked out from between his plush lips, as if seeking any stray drops that he may have missed.

It did not change the vibe. At all.

“Oh,” Troy said quietly. “Shit, that’s really good.”

“Yeah,” Harris said distantly. If he kissed Troy right now, he would taste like ice cream. “More?”

A painfully shy smile curved those soft lips. “Okay.”

Harris, realizing that it would be weird to continue spoon-feeding Troy, handed him the container and the spoon.

It was also weird to be sitting in the dark, so he turned on the bedside lamp. Troy settled back against the pillows with the ice cream, while Harris sat, cross-legged, next to him, trying like hell to focus on the television. It was difficult when Troy kept sighing happily around each mouthful of ice cream.

Harris gave his thigh a playful shove. “I told you ice cream is awesome.”

“Mm” was all Troy said, because he’d just shoved another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth.

They watched TV while Harris’s hand twitched with the urge to touch him again. He often craved physical touch and loved cuddling possibly even more than sex. He found it comforting, and at that moment he desperately needed comfort. Nothing inside him felt right; his brain couldn’t settle, his skin prickled, his stomach was in knots and his throat was dry.

He didn’t want to think about his heart. He was sure it was beating normally, medically speaking, but it felt...fluttery. Anxious.

He heard the spoon scrape against the bottom of the ice cream container and smiled. “That didn’t take long.”

“It’s a small container.”

Harris turned to look at him, and huffed out a laugh when he saw how relaxed Troy seemed. His hair was mostly dry now, but it was messy and fell in his eyes. He had one arm stretched over his head, which gave Harris a nice view of his biceps, and also of a strip of skin above the waistband of his sweatpants. A hint of his muscular abs.

---