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“Fuck.” Harrison’s hands disappeared into Jake’s curls. “Jesus Christ, Jake.”

Jake closed his eyes and let the sound of Harrison saying his name sink into him. Because there was no doubt who Harrison was with now. No sleep-soft confusion. No ghost caught between them. Harrison was here, beneath him, responding to Jake’s mouth, Jake’s hands, Jake making those broken sounds tear from his throat.

And fuck, Jake needed that more than he wanted to admit.

He gave himself over to it. The heat and taste of Harrison and the way everything else finally went quiet. He sucked him hard and hungry, with none of the devastating patience Harrison had shown him the night before. Jake didn’t have that in him tonight. He needed Harrison too badly. Needed every gasp and twitch and tightening hand in his hair to prove he was right fucking here with him.

Apparently, Harrison didn’t want patience either.

He gripped Jake’s curls into a bunch above his head, pushing them back from his face so he could watch his cock slide in and out of his mouth, and the intensity of that stare sent another rush of heat straight through Jake.

“Jake… fuck.”

Jake looked up.

Harrison was wrecked. Shirt hanging open, tie dragged askew, chest heaving beneath the parted fabric. All that careful control had disappeared, leaving dark eyes fixed entirely on him.

“Fuck…” Harrison’s head tipped back before he forced his gaze down again. “Jake—”

He then came with a broken groan, body drawing tight beneath him before shuddering loose again. Jake swallowed it all, barely giving either of them time to breathe before he was moving back up Harrison’s body. There, he dragged open his own trousers, freed himself, and leaned over Harrison, bracing one hand by his head, wrapping the other around his cock while he kissed Harrison. Hard. Filthy. Harrison kissed him straight back, one hand catching Jake’s wrist before closing over his hand and helping him along.

“C’mon, Jake.”

Jake dropped his forehead onto Harrison’s as their joined hands worked him faster, both of them breathing into the same inch of space.

“Harry…”

Harrison kissed him again.

That was enough.

Jake came with a broken curse against Harrison’s mouth, body buckling down into him as Harrison held on.

They collapsed together on the carpet, damp clothes tangled around them, Harrison closing his arms around Jake while they fought to get their breath back. Jake sprawled across him, cheek pressed to his chest while Harrison’s heartbeat gradually slowed beneath his ear. Outside, rain blew through the open doorway and spotted cold against Jake’s bare back.

He should probably get up and close that.

He didn’t.

Because for those few minutes, everything had finally gone quiet.

Until the question that had been sitting there since Harrison told him it wasn’t Robyn, waiting beneath the relief, beneath everything they’d just done, bubbled to the surface.

So Jake kept his face against Harrison’s chest as he asked, “Who was she?”

Harrison’s fingers slowed their path up and down his spine. “Lauren Pike.”

Jake closed his eyes. “She from round here?”

“No.” Harrison swallowed. “Hull.”

Jake froze at that. Barely anything. A hitch of breath. A tightening somewhere in his body. Most people wouldn’t have noticed.

Harrison would.

Jake knew he had when the fingers stopped moving at all. So he pushed himself upright and crawled off him before Harrison could feel anything else. Rain had blown halfway across the carpet, giving him an excuse. Jake crossed to the balcony and slammed the door shut, the bang rattling through the tiny bedsit.

“I have to be on a roof in three hours,” Jake muttered, mostly because the silence needed filling.