to. “I just sort of realised I’m not hanging out with my friends as much as I used to.”
“I’d never want to get in the way.”
“You’re not. Seeing you is really important to me.”
Kit smiled. “Same.”
“I guess.” Drew played his fingers up the side of Kit’s wrist, catching the sweet responsive shiver in his skin. “Maybe if we just spent less time in HoL. Like the guild is cool and everything, but I’d really like if you wanted to spend time with me and my mates.”
Kit’s gaze lingered on Drew’s hand. He still seemed a bit bothered, but all he said was, “Sure.”
Just like when he’d been talking to Sanee, Drew still wasn’t quite sure he’d said everything he needed to say or said it right, but he didn’t want to make Kit feel like a loser any more than he wanted Sanee to think he didn’t care about their friendship. But he also wasn’t sure how else the conversation could have played out. Kit had agreed to spend real-world time with him pretty easily, so maybe everything would be fine.
And, in any case, angsting about it now was pointless.
“Um.” Kit lay back and stretched out, tucking an arm behind his head. “It’s quite late. Are you tired? Or do you want to do something else?”
He looked really good like that—sort of all lean and elegant and inviting. As if he was waiting to be touched. Drew dropped down onto one elbow, his free hand sneaking under the hem of Kit’s shirt. “I can’t think of anything to say that doesn’t sound like the flirt option in a BioWare RPG.”
“Mass Effect or Dragon Age?”
Drew thought about it for a moment. “Do you have a preference?”
“I’m good with you right now.”
“That’s a relief. Because I left my Commander Shepard costume at home.”
Kit’s muscles tightened under Drew’s palm as he laughed. And Drew rolled over him and kissed him into silence.
“You’re really beautiful, you know?” Drew said, a bit awkwardly. It was true, but he wasn’t quite sure if you were meant to say it.
“Oh God.” Kit went all pink and lifted a hand to stroke Drew’s cheek, palm curving beneath his jaw. “I don’t know what . . . Sorry, I’m really bad with compliments.” He went, if possible, even pinker, the heat spilling down his throat and disappearing beneath the open V of his shirt. “I’m glad you like me, though.”
Drew was suddenly very brave indeed. He kissed his way under Kit’s chin. He was a little rough there—this pale stubble he could feel but couldn’t see. Kit tipped his head back, no hesitation there, just trust and eagerness, a soft noise, half-sigh, half-moan, slipping from between his lips. It made Drew sit up a moment. Kind of stunned and kind of flustered and excited at how right it all was.
Kit and him. Him and Kit.
He was looking up at Drew, eyes expectant, still bright with memory of laughter. His breath was coming quickly now, matching Drew’s.
Well. It seemed as good a time as any. And it seemed kind of unfair to leave all the baring and trusting and scary stuff to Kit. So he whisked off his T-shirt. And was especially glad for the rugby, since he was sort of right there, with nowhere to hide. It wasn’t quite what he was used to, but it wasn’t as intimidating as he’d expected.
Not when Kit was gazing at him with such pleasure.
It felt pretty powerful actually. And in its own way, kind of hot.
He was starting to think that maybe one of the things about sex was that you put up your own barriers. Worrying about what someone else would think about you. Or what you might accidentally be showing them or telling them.
But if you liked somone—really liked someone—then . . . suddenly none of that mattered anymore. And it was no different from anything else you did together.
Talking or sharing a joke or playing a game.
He reached for the first button of Kit’s shirt. “Can I?”
“God, yes.” A long, hot shudder ran through Kit’s body. “Yes, please.”
And he caught Drew by the shoulder and pulled him down again.
That Friday, Drew made certain to go to the pub. He probably would have anyway, but he wanted to show his friends that he hadn’t forgotten them. Kit, of course, was raiding.
A tiny part of him was worried that Sanee was going to stage an intervention in the Slug and Lettuce, but once they’d all settled down with their drinks and