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He wished he could pull the boards off for a better view, but it was still breathtaking out here away from the city. The inky sky was full of countless bright stars, and on a good night he could see the cloudy haze of the Milky Way.
Huck sat down against the wall near one of the windows, turning his head so he could try to see through the boards and get a look at the sky.
Cloudy tonight.
Damn.
So much for stargazing tonight.
At least he had the date to look forward to.
Time ticked by at a crawl, but it wasn’t so bad since Huck was a ghost. He could close his eyes and do what Precipitation called losing time—the dead’s version of zoning out. Before he knew it, the clock down the hall was striking midnight even though it only felt like a few minutes had passed.
Huck hurried to his feet and then zoomed downstairs to find Grant’s room.
As he stood in front of the door, he realized that he couldn’t knock. His hand had lost all of its solidness. He tried calling out, “Grant? Hey? Are you there?”
There was no answer, and he was stumped as to what he should do.
Ah, fuck it.
Huck cringed and melted his way through the door.
It was cold and weird and smelled like dirt, but he made it through without getting stuck—a legitimate concern—and popped out on the other side of the door.
The TV was on but muted, and the only light was coming from a small bedside lamp.
Grant was in bed, on top of the blankets but fast asleep.
Huck smiled and tiptoed over.
Grant was curled up on his side, his eyes closed and expression soft in his slumber.
Huck carefully sat down on the edge of the bed next to him. He wasn’t sure if he should wake Grant up or not, and he noticed there was a tray of snacks with some candles on the bedside table.
There was a bottle of chocolate syrup, graham crackers, and a small bowl of tiny marshmallows. They looked like the kind that came with little packs of hot chocolate, and Huck realized it was the makings of s’mores.
His heart definitely fluttered then, and he knew he was smiling from ear to ear. He couldn’t believe Grant had pulled all of that together just because Huck had mentioned liking s’mores.
Not that he could eat them, but it was still really thoughtful.
Huck stretched out beside Grant, facing him and getting comfortable. He made sure to give him plenty of space even as he longed to cuddle up to him. He did not mind that Grant had fallen asleep, but he couldn’t bring himself to wake him yet.
Grant just looked so comfortable.
Huck was certain Precipitation would be disappointed in the lack of excitement on this date so far, but this was more than enough for Huck.
He liked watching Grant’s chest rise and fall, the occasional flutter of his lashes, and Huck’s gaze drifted over Grant’s round belly and thick thighs. He remembered what he’d thought of when Grant asked him what he liked doing.
Yes, Huck had said stargazing and recalled his time making s’mores, but that was only because he had panicked and racked his brain for any other possible answer to avoid saying the one that had popped into his brain.
He would have died again if he’d actually told Grant how much he missedrimming.
Desire seeped through Huck’s core, and he tried to ignore it. This was supposed to be a nice little date, and he was going to make it weird if he didn’t stop thinking about sex. He wasn’t entirely certain that Grant couldn’t read his thoughts, but maybe he was just being paranoid.
As if on cue, Grant’s eyes opened. “Mmm?”
Huck nearly jumped off the bed. He cleared his throat, aiming for cool as he said, “Hey.”
