“You were hardly second string last year. You had only one less start than the starter. The senior who graduated. What’s his name?”
“Watson.” Wes smiled. “You googled me.”
“Figured I should know a little bit about football if my boyfriend is, like, playing.” Justin shrugged, pretending to look annoyed. “Turns out my boyfriend is kind of a big deal. He’s made a few touchdowns or baskets or goals or whatever.”
Wes’s smile melted Justin’s spine. He stared into Justin’s eyes, those dimples on full display, his cheeks darkening to shades of burgundy, even the tips of his ears going red. “Boyfriend, huh?”
“Well, if you insist.” Justin bit his lip. Smiled. “I could be persuaded.”
They were in a corner of the airport, off the main path, tucked into an empty gate area, but still. He didn’t expect Wes to do anything. Certainly not lean in, cup Justin’s cheek in one of his giant hands, and press their lips together. Justin kissed back, trying to chase Wes when he pulled away. He ended up leaning against his chest, tucking his face into Wes’s neck. Inhaling. Breathing him in.
The boarding announcement for his flight shattered the moment. He clung to Wes, irrationally afraid to let go. What if this was it? What if, when he turned his back, everything they’d shared evaporated?
What if he never saw Wes again?
Ridiculous. Of course he’d see Wes again. All he had to do was turn on the TV. He could see him every Saturday, and on SportsCenter every week, and on a million YouTube clips. He’d see Wes for the rest of his life, whether he wanted to or not.
But oh, how he wanted to. He wanted to wake up every day and see his face, watch the morning sun wink over his twitching eyelids, watch him come awake slowly, face half buried in the pillow as he fought for those last few seconds of sleep. Wanted to see his eyes roll back in his head when Justin decided to wake him up the fun way. Wanted to kiss him good morning and good night, to cook breakfast and dinner for him, feed him ridiculous amounts of calories, then help him burn it all off with cardio and wild sex. He wanted to watch Wes in the shower, maybe even join him sometime if they ever found a stall large enough. He wanted everything with this man, everything he’d spent the past three weeks savoring, and now it was about to end.
“Text me when you land?” Wes whispered.
“Of course. You, too?” Wes would land first, in New York, and then transfer to his flight to Austin, where he’d take a bus back to campus. Wes nodded. “Let me know about the team. Your position.”
Behind Justin, the gate agent started rattling off boarding zones, moving with alarming efficiency. He’d counted on the process being slow, giving him a few extra minutes with Wes. He’d been greedy, wanting every second he could steal.
“I will.”
And then the gate agent called his zone, and a minute later, the line of people boarding his flight was nearly gone. They started the final boarding call next, announcing the names of missing passengers. “Justin Swanscott, please come to gate 29 immediately. Your flight has completed boarding.”
“Fuck,” he hissed. Tears bubbled up again, and he squeezed Wes’s hands. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”
Wes stared at Justin, his lips thin, eyes wide and shining, as if he, too, was trying to fight back tears. His fingers hadn’t released Justin’s, and he was holding on like he wouldn’t let go, wouldn’t let Justin walk away. Don’t let me go. Don’t ever let me go.
He pressed a quick kiss to Wes’s cheek, then grabbed his carry-on and turned toward his gate. The gate agent noticed him heading her way, and she waved him on, a plastic smile on her features as she told him to hurry. Then she froze, eyes wide, and stared beyond him.
“Justin.” Hands grabbed him and spun him around, and he was face to face with Wes, Wes’s body pressed as tightly to Justin’s as they’d ever been—closer, even, than when they were making love. Wes’s hands slid around his waist, rose to the center of his back. “Justin,” Wes rumbled. His eyes darted from Justin’s eyes to his lips.
He kissed Justin then, deeper, harder, than he ever had. Nothing, not even their first kiss, was as hungry, as desperate, as the kiss Wes laid on him there, in the