Page 96 of Septembers

Dae went to the closet to find clothes while Theo struggled out of his belt. “Who invented belts anyway? Not worth it.” Gambling with the possibility of flashing his ass in public would be a small price to pay to never have to take off a belt again. Devil may care! He finally got the contraption off and flung it across the room, then gave up on getting out of his clothes. The belt was enough of a victory, best to quit while he was ahead.

Dae paused his pajama search to pull his phone from his pocket. Had he gotten a text? Who would text him this late? Was it a sex proposition? If so, Theo would support it, of course.

Except.

It was late.

And travelling alone at this hour wasn’t a great idea.

Theo figured he should protect his friend and tell him it was too risky to go trolling for sex this late at night. “That’s dangerous.”

“What?”

“Your phone.”

Dae made one of those wtf is this guy on about faces, but cute. “My phone is dangerous?”

Theo nodded. Then regretted it.

“It’s the Romans.”

“Who the hell is Roman?” He’d meant that to come out more interested than distraught, but Dae didn’t seem to notice.

“The Romans first invented the belt. Well, wait.” He referred back to his phone. “Technically the belt buckle, but it all evolved from there.”

Theo watched him tuck his phone into his pocket and continue with his task. Not a sex proposition. An info search. Adorable nerd.

“Here.” Dae crossed the room holding the blue t-shirt Theo had never given back. “Think you can change your clothes yourself?”

His tone was joking, but in just one night, Theo had become addicted to the deliberate touch, and he knew, somewhere in the back of his alcohol-soaked brain, that after tonight, he wouldn’t have an excuse anymore. So he held Dae’s gaze as he slowly shook his head.

It would’ve been perfectly fair for Dae to scoff and leave, but he didn’t. Because he was Dae, and he never said no to Theo. Not when Theo was outright asking for something. And maybe, right now, neither of them knew exactly what he was asking for, but whatever it was, Dae still nodded. He would give it.

“Okay.” He swallowed, his eyes dipping to the buttons of Theo’s shirt. Theo stood still, watching Dae’s concentration as he undid one, then another, the pink of his cheeks spreading to his ears and down his neck. “Arms up.”

Theo obeyed and then the soft fabric was brushing against his skin and over his head. Dae held his shirt for a moment, and Theo wondered what impulse had him so mesmerized. But then he tossed it on the bed, turning his attention to the button of Theo’s pants and nothing else, not even the quickest flick of his vision to any bare skin. Theo wanted him to look. His body was thirsty for Dae’s attention. But Dae’s focus was flawless, his fingers expertly undoing the button and sliding the zipper down.

This time, there wasn’t a gross or creepy enough image in the universe to keep Theo from getting hard.

He knew this was stupid in the way he knew eating the entire carton of ice cream was stupid—vaguely and with the understanding that it was Future Theo’s problem.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, not daring to see if Dae’s body was responding the same way.

“Happens,” Dae whispered back, letting the pants fall to the floor. Then his hands were on Theo’s hips, guiding him forward to step out of them without tripping. They stood there for a moment too long, and Theo couldn’t help it when his eyes slid closed so he could properly appreciate the feeling of Dae’s rough fingertips on his skin. Then his hands slid off, and his heat disappeared just long enough for Theo to miss it before it was back.

“Okay,” Dae’s voice scratched like an old record, “arms up again.”

Dae threaded Theo’s arms into the shirt and pulled it down, his knuckles running against his arms, then chest, then stomach. It was too much sensation, and he felt himself swaying, then Dae’s arms were around his waist.

“Sorry,” Theo mumbled again, letting his head fall onto Dae’s shoulder.

“S’okay,” Dae mumbled back. “C’mon, get into bed.”

Theo half expected Dae to pick him up and place him on the bed like some kind of Disney prince, but instead, he just held him steady as Theo stumbled, hiking one knee onto the mattress, then the other.

Dae actually tucked him in, rolling him to his side and pulling the sheets over him. But he didn’t tell him a story. “Go to slee⁠—”

“You really didn’t like the pretty spinach girl?”