“I’m good.” He’s confused, more than anything. “What did you want to ask?”
Robert doesn’t look at him, he just ducks his head and scratches the back of his skull. “I’ve been thinking more about, um, us? Lately? About how we used to be.”
How they used to be? That could be anything. They’ve been friends and brothers—sworn enemies, even.
And lovers. They were lovers, once.
Matt doesn’t want to assume anything, so he offers a weak, “Yeah?”
“Yeah. And—” Robert finally turns,finallymakes eye contact, before huffing and glancing away again. “God, this is so embarrassing.”
“What is?” Matt’s heart beats faster, thudding in his chest. Friends aren’t embarrassing, neither are brothers or enemies.
Actually, enemies are a little embarrassing.
His hands feel clammy for some reason, and Matt hastily wipes them on his shorts while Robert composes himself.
“I’m—I don’t even know how to describe it. Remember when we slept outside? And it was just us against the world? I wanted to, like, recreate that somehow.”
“You want to sleep outside?”
“No, I just want—” Robert makes a frustrated growl and Matt’s stomach swoops with anticipation. “Look, I don’t know how to ask if I could sleep next to you again without making it weird. I just miss something about it—I dunno.”
Matt deflates, but nods. “The intimacy?”
“Yeah.” Robert smiles, and it seems a little sad, somehow. “Not in the sex way, in the—I guess ‘intimate’ works.”
Not in the sex way.
Okay.
That's fine.
“So, yeah. Feel free to say no, but would you be interested in a hotel sleepover?” Robert’s been taller than him for years, but he seems so little right now, asking for this small comfort.
Even if he’s a little disappointed, how can Matt refuse? “Did you ask your dad?”
Robert lights up. He stands straighter and smiles when he replies, “Dad said it’s fine. Can your mom make those Mexican chicken fingers again?”
“We just ate dinner!”
“Spoil sport.”
It might not be what Matt had hoped for, but this is still good. Intimacy is good. He also missed having someone to share his nights with—to talk through the day with. The nights where it was both of them against the world.
“Yeah, you can sleep over.”
Robert whoops and throws himself onto the right side of the bed. He didn’t need to ask—he already knows Matt prefers the left.
It’s the kind of intimacy Matt used to take for granted. “Lemme go brush my teeth first.”
Matt disappears into the bathroom and tries to breathe a regular amount. They used to sleep together all the time—long before they did any of the sexual stuff. He can fall asleep next to his childhood friend without his dick getting hard about it.
Withouthis dick getting hard.
Fuck, it’s gonna be a long night.
Matt splashes his face with water and wills himself to be completely normal. They’re friends. Just friends.
