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“Right. Next phase. Which is… you coming in?”
“That seems to be logical.”
“Great. Okay.” Travis turns to the side, gesturing toward his bed. It looks dangerously inviting. “Come in, then.”
Carter carefully steps inside like an ambush might be waiting for him. Instead, he finds a Harry Potter movie paused at the start on his TV’s screen and a bottle of wine on the bedside table beside two empty glasses. It’s Carter’s favorite, which is impressive because he doesn’t recall ever telling Travis that. Maison must have helped out. The thought makes Carter smile again. “So, Harry Potter and wine, huh?”
“If that’s okay?”
“It’s perfect.” Carter grabs the wine, pretending to be interested in the label despite having consumed the same exact bottle multiple times. He runs his thumb along the edge of the sticker. “Fair warning, I’ve already had two glasses of wine. You give me another, and I might make bad decisions.”
Travis steps up behind him, not close enough to touch, but close enough for Carter to feel the want radiating from him. “And if I don’t give you more wine?”
“I’ll make much better decisions.”
“And is spending the night with me a good decision or a bad one?”
“Depends what we spend our night doing.”
Travis exhales, the sound shaky. Then he steps forward to press his chest against Carter’s back. Carter closes his eyes and sinks into him. Strong, heavy hands settle on his hips. Warm breath tickles the shell of his ear. “What are my options?”
“Give me another glass and find out,” Carter whispers.
“Mmm.” Travis runs the tip of his nose along Carter’s ear and down the side of his neck, stopping short when his lips find the collar of Carter’s sweater. He nuzzles the spot. “I’m not sure I’ll survive if we do something tonight only for you to take it back in the morning. Maybe we’ll skip the wine and behave.”
Carter is torn between relief and disappointment, but he can admit one thing. “Probably a good idea.”
Travis reaches around, taking the bottle from Carter’s hands and placing it back on the bedside table. Instead of putting his hand back on Carter’s hip he lets it rest just beneath his belly button. Slowly - far too slowly for a man who claims to have missed Carter as much as Travis - he drags his hand up, fingers playing him like a goddamn instrument, strumming along his ribcage and over his nipples. Carter gasps. Travis chuckles in his ear, but he doesn’t let his touch linger, continuing its journey up, up, up until it’s settled around Carter’s throat. The grip is light. Barely there. But Carter hasn’t felt this held in weeks.
“What happens if we do things without the wine?” Travis asks. “Are those still bad decisions?”
“I suppose not,” Carter breathes. “As long as we… have boundaries.”
“Then you’ll just have to tell me when to stop tonight. In case our boundaries aren’t the same.”
Carter swallows hard, words dancing along his tongue as he debates the merits of being honest versus keeping the peace. He doesn’t want to ruin this. Doesn’t want to lose the hands on him. Doesn’t want to lose the hope welling in his chest.
But…
“Travis?”
“Yes?”
“We should set the boundaries beforehand, actually. That’s - um - that’s what I’ve learned.”
Travis goes still behind him. “Does-” he pauses to clear his throat before trying again. “Does that mean we have something to set boundaries for?”
“We could.”
“Just for tonight? One last time?” Carter can hear the hurt in his voice. The damage those words have caused him. They’ve caused damage to Carter too.
“No,” Carter whispers. He turns in Travis’s arms, tilting his head back to be able to look into his eyes. Travis’s face is wide open, full of fear and hope. “No more one last time. Let’s give forever a try instead.”
Travis’s fingers dig painfully into Carter’s sides, but he grits his teeth to keep from making sound in case it’ll scare the man off. He’s shaking. The big, strong, brave man in front of him is visibly shaking now. “Don’t say that if you don’t mean it. Please, Carter, I can’t.”
“I mean it,” Carter promises. “I still don’t know what this is going to be, but I’m ready to try it. To try… something. To get started, at least.”
“Yes. Get started.” Travis’s lips stretch into the widest, most ridiculous grin. “Let’s get started.”
