Page 102 of Contested

“Hi,” Marcos said quietly.

“Hi,” Sebastian murmured, stepping to the side.

Marcos didn’t move.

Sebastian stared at him for half a second, then frowned. “Get inside. What are you doing?”

Marcos stepped through the door with a chuckle. “What?”

“Jesus. What if someone saw you?” Sebastian closed the door quickly.

“It’s, like, one in the morning. No one was gonna—” Marcos paused as he toed his shoes off, gaze fixed on the living room. “What’s that?”

Heat climbed up the back of Sebastian’s neck, and his hand came up to meet it. “I’m a man of my word.”

“You have a whole table?” Marcos watched Sebastian, smiling.

“If you’re gonna make fun of me, you can go home—”

“No, no. It’s cool.” Marcos stepped into the living room, Sebastian behind him. “I’ve never had a proper massage before.”

“Really?” Sebastian questioned, circling the table.

“Yeah. Only on my knees when they’ve played up.”

Sebastian hummed. “I’ll give you the full experience then.”

“Which is?” Marcos walked to Sebastian, hand running up his arm.

The touch settled him more than it should have. Marcos’ palm shifted from his wrist to his elbow, then up to his shoulder, warm through the hoodie. It had been a while since he’d felt Marcos like that.

He placed his lips on Marcos’, gentle and quick. “Just trust me.”

Marcos groaned. “Fine.”

“You’ll have to take your clothes off, though.”

Marcos squinted. “All of them?”

Sebastian chuckled. “You can put a towel over your ass. Don’t worry.”

“What about you?” Marcos raised his eyebrow.

“Don’t worry about it. Just get ready and lie face down. I’m just gonna go check something.”

Marcos hummed again but didn’t say anything.

Sebastian turned and walked out of the living room to his bedroom, straight to his phone.

Another message from Loren stared back at him.

You need to do something.

Sebastian read it twice. His fingers tensed against the side of his phone. The words were worse than the first message because they were broader. Less specific. It reached past the phone, past his father, past whatever version of family Loren thought they could be.

He placed the phone back down. He would deal with it tomorrow.

“Ready,” Marcos called through the apartment.