Page 23 of How Not to Date a Griffin

“I can’t stop thinking about how you’d feel inside me,” Nolan whispered. “If you’d want that.”

Reid’s entire body flushed hot at just the thought, and he nodded jerkily.

“Condoms?” Reid asked, because that was the natural next step, right? His breath and chest were tight with anticipation.

Nolan froze and pulled back, his wide eyes foggy with lust, and Reid’s stomach dropped. “Condoms,” he echoed, neither question nor statement.

“Yeah. Condoms. Do you have any?” Reid already knew the answer from Nolan’s response, but he couldn’t help but ask.

Nolan sat back on his knees, fingers digging into his thighs, and Reid let his hand fall away. “I never do this, so I don’t think—“

“Me either,” Reid interrupted, oddly flattered and maybe a little relieved. He cleared his throat.

Nolan groaned. “Maybe… maybe I have one in my toiletries bag. I don’t know. I’ll go check.”

“Great idea,” Reid agreed. “Go look.”

“On it,” Nolan said, and leaned in for a kiss before crawling off the bed and marching into the bathroom.

Reid could hear Nolan rustling around, the clink of bottles and plastic taps, the hiss of a zipper. Some cursing.

This was something new, something different, for both of them. Was Nolan as adrift as Reid was, unsure in the waves of their desire?

They didn’t have to have penetrative sex. With Nolan, Reid was sure it wouldn’t even take that much more grinding to come, not with the sweet, eager noises he knew he made.

Yeah. As soon as Nolan returned, Reid would propose the alternate plan, drag him back to bed. Nolan wouldn’t know what hit him.

“I mean, it is true that Others can’t contract or spread diseases,” Reid offered helpfully.

A second passed slowly before Nolan’s head appeared around the frame of the door, mouth agape. “You—really?”

Reid chuckled, and suddenly his cheeks were the pink ones. “Really.”

“So what you’re saying is…”

“We don’t have to have a condom. Unless that’s what you’d prefer—”

Reid watched the thought hit Nolan, and he disappeared around the doorway again. While he waited, Reid sank deeper into the bed, turning on his side to watch Nolan’s shadow cut across the bathroom light, and then back the other way. Clutching one of the pillows to his chest, he inhaled deeply, breathing in the citrus scent embedded in the pillow.

Was it weird to sniff his pillow? Probably. Did Reid care?

Reid maybe would have cared, but jesus christ, what kind of bed was this? He was sinking deeper by the second, and the sheets were so soft and lovely he didn’t want to move. Ever.

His eyelids drifted closed, and he snapped them open at the clink of another bottle.

Shit.

Nolan was freaking out.

“Nolan, c’mere,” he called out.

The clinking paused, followed by the soft padding steps of the other man.

Nolan paused beside the bed, and Reid reached out a hand, cupping somewhere around his thigh. Fabric brushed the back of his fingers. Nolan had put boxers on.

He should sit up properly.

“Why’re you freaking out, man?” he asked, almost afraid to look up, to meet Nolan’s gaze.