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Renzo laughed and shook his head. It was damn near impossible to picture Emil as a student, but he had no trouble believing he was the hot, rich jock that everyone wanted to fuck and no one got the chance to. Renzo would have quietly pined away, and Emil would have never known he existed.
“You’re quiet,” Emil said. “Is something wrong? Or are you calling to yell at me for bothering your brother at his workplace? Because I swear I didn’t know he?—”
“No,” Renzo interrupted. “Matty was really excited to see you again.”
Emil let out a puff of air. “Oh, good. He was so sweet. My friend dragged me in there and then abandoned me two seconds later, so I had to sit there with my mug all by myself like some loser.”
Renzo choked on a laugh. “Mug painting doesn’t make you a loser. It makes you a nerd, and before you even say it, those are not the same thing.”
“I would never,” Emil said.
“Right. Well.” Renzo coughed, then shivered at the lungful of too-cold air. “I was calling to, uh, invite you over for the New Year.”
Emil was silent for so long Renzo started to regret speaking. “You want me to come over?”
“Yes.” It made Renzo smile how good it felt to say that one single word and mean it. “I’d love for you to come over. We’re going to cook dinner and light a bonfire, then watch the fireworks.”
“Do I get a kiss at midnight?” Emil asked very softly.
Renzo’s face went hot. “I don’t know. I want to say yes, but…”
“I don’t know either,” Emil admitted. “But I really liked kissing you.”
Renzo blew out a puff of air, watching the steam tumble from his lips. He glanced up at the window to Matty’s room and saw the soft yellow glow from his nightlight, and he knew he was fast asleep. “I’m going to head inside.”
“Do you want me to let you go?” Emil asked.
Renzo swallowed heavily. “Where are you right now?”
“My new condo. I moved in yesterday.”
“Alone?”
There was a long pause, and then Emil breathed out, “Yeah.”
Reaching for the door, Renzo slipped inside and headed up the stairs as quietly as he could. He skipped the one that always creaked, then darted into his room and shut the door with a soft click. The lock in the door handle turned easily between his fingers, and he glanced at his bed and felt hot all over.
“Renzo?”
“Still here. Sorry. I, uh…I was…thinking.”
“Yeah?” Emil asked. His voice had gone an octave lower, the sound of it a little rougher. “Talk to me.”
“I’m in my room now. Matty’s asleep. And I think I miss you,” Renzo admitted.
“Doyou?”
Renzo laughed as he peeled away his sweatshirt and let it fall to the floor. His pants followed, and he glanced down at his tented boxers, though he wasn’t brave enough to touch himself yet. The sheets were cold as he slid beneath the covers and lay back, staring up at the motionless ceiling fan.
“I’m in my bed. There’s one pillow here that still kind of smells like you,” Renzo admitted. He’d moved it to the corner, afraid to touch it in case he lost the scent of Emil sooner.
Emil groaned. “Yeah. I remember your bed.”
“I wasn’t expecting you that night,” Renzo told him. He pulled the covers up high, then rolled to face the window. “It scared the hell out of me how badly I wanted you.”
“It scares me how badly I still want you,” Emil admitted in a soft whisper. And then, a second later, he was groaning.
“Are you touching yourself?” Renzo asked, gripping his own dick and giving it a single stroke. Renzo squeezed his eyes shut as sparks of pleasure rushed through him.
