Chapter Eight
Sage woke to the weight of another body on the mattress and the dim light sneaking around the edges of the blinds.
For a second, he didn’t know where he was, then the room slotted into place.
Bryce’s posters, Bryce’s desk, the dent in the pillow under Sage’s cheek that smelled like detergent and something warm.
He didn’t move. Bryce’s breathing was slow and even and close. Sage could feel it on his skin. He checked the clock on the nightstand, which showed it was just after nine in the morning.
His thumb found the corner of the blanket and fiddled with it. His head felt clear in a way it hadn’t last night. His mouth remembered the hallway and the kiss. The steady weight of Bryce’s hand on his chest, his head on Sage’s shoulder. The kiss had not felt like a mistake but something more.
Bryce’s lashes twitched. He blinked awake, and his hazel eyes went from unfocused to seeing Sage. Bryce looked at him and made a small sound that might have been a hello. He blinked again, then smiled softly.
“Hey,” Sage murmured.
“Hey.” Bryce’s voice came out rough as he looked around the room, then back at Sage. “You stayed.”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Good,” Bryce said, simple as that, and the knot that had been in Sage’s chest loosened slightly.
They didn’t move for another minute, then the bed creaked when Bryce shifted onto his back. Sage stared up at the ceiling and waited for Bryce to settle.
“What day is it?” Bryce asked.
Sage reached for his phone on the nightstand, thumbed the screen, and winced at the brightness. “Sunday,” he said. “Fourteenth.”
Bryce exhaled. “Valentine’s.”
“Yeah.”
Bryce lifted an arm and covered his eyes. “We should do something if we’re…doing this.”
Sage turned his head and stared at Bryce. “Doing what?”
“This,” Bryce said, moving his hand to point between them and then shoving it back over his eyes like he regretted showing that much. “Whatever this is.”
Sage’s mouth tugged. “Breakfast first.”
“Coffee or I die,” Bryce grunted
They got up, and as Bryce found his sneakers and toed them on, Sage pushed the blanket back and winced when cold air hit the strip of skin where his shirt had ridden up. He stood, joints stiff from sleeping in jeans, and scrubbed a hand over his face. He wanted a shower, but he needed coffee more.
In the kitchen, he filled the kettle and put two mugs on the counter.
The window over the sink showed a winter sky, gray and filled with dark clouds.
Sage flicked his gaze to the calendar hanging on the wall.
February. Red circle around the 14th because Lizzie had thought it was funny to do that last week when she’d dropped off notes.
Bryce leaned in the doorway, his hazel eyes watching, his black hair a mess, and his T-shirt wrinkled. He looked better than anyone had a right to after a party. He watched Sage as he moved around the kitchen.
“Takeout or a meal out?” Sage asked.
“Meal out feels too much right now,” Bryce said. “But I can do it.”
Sage stopped moving and watched Bryce. “You sure?”
“No,” Bryce admitted. “But I want to try.” He moved to the cupboard, grabbed the coffee, and put it down by Sage’s hand. “Unless you want to keep it quiet.”
Sage shook his head. “I don’t want to hide from this, but I just don’t want to rush into this either.”
“Slow,” Bryce murmured.
“Slow,” Sage agreed.
They made coffee in the comfortable quiet like they always had, with the change from the previous night settling around them.
Bryce slid a mug toward Sage. Their fingers brushed, but neither of them pulled back like they would have done before.
They sat on the couch with their mugs on the table, their knees not quite touching.
“Okay,” Bryce said. “Honest moment.”
Taking a deep breath, Sage nodded. “Okay.”
“I was drunk when I kissed you first,” Bryce said. “But last night wasn’t that.”
“I know,” Sage agreed.
“It felt…” Bryce searched for the word and then whispered, “Right.”
Sage’s chest did a slow shift as he blew out. “Yeah.”
“That freaks me out,” Bryce added.
“Me too,” Sage agreed again. “But I’m not running from this.”
“Me either.”
Sage drank more coffee, then put his mug down and turned on the couch so he faced Bryce. His knee bumped Bryce’s, but he didn’t move it. “We should probably talk rules,” Sage said, mouth twisting. “That sounds dumb when I say it out loud.”
“Ground rules aren’t dumb,” Bryce told him. “They keep us from making mistakes and fucking up our friendship.”
“Okay.” Sage held up a hand and ticked off fingers. “No pretending it didn’t happen after today. No labels yet. Slow. And if one of us wants to stop, we stop.”
“Good.” Bryce nodded. “And add don’t be idiots about other people.”
“If you want to go on a date with someone else, we say that out loud.” Sage frowned as he said it. The words didn’t feel right to him, and part of him hoped Bryce agreed.
Bryce’s jaw flexed and eased. “I don’t want to. Not right now.”
“Me either.” Sage clasped his hands and stared at them, his shoulders easing with Bryce’s words.
“Okay.” Sage glanced at Bryce, seeing the tension ease from his shoulders. “I had a stupid thought last night.”
“Yeah?”
“I thought that we should watch porn,” Bryce said, deadpan, then coughed like the words were sand. “Educational purposes.”
Sage snorted before he could stop himself. “Porn?”
“It was a joke,” Bryce said. “Mostly. I think.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what you like. I don’t even know what I like yet. Watching…whatever…seemed like a way to not make an idiot of myself.”
Sage put his mug down after taking a sip of coffee. “We don’t need videos to figure that out.”
Bryce’s eyes lifted. “No?”
“No,” Sage said. “We ask. We try one thing at a time. We don’t rush. We stop if it gets or feels weird. We laugh when we’re clumsy. We’re learning together.”
Bryce smiled slightly. “You make it sound simple.”
“It isn’t,” Sage said. “But we can keep it simple.”
“Okay.” Bryce nodded. “So.” Bryce coughed. “Valentine’s dinner?”
“Dinner,” Sage said.
“Where?”
“Small place on Fourth,” Sage murmured, picturing the place in his mind. “The Italian one. The lights are low enough you can pretend you’re not being watched.”
Bryce smiled as he nodded. “Perfect.”
They finished their coffee. The quiet between them felt right again. Bryce put his empty mug on the table and reached over, palm up, like he wasn’t sure if he could ask with words. Sage put his hand in it, and Bryce’s fingers curled around his without squeezing.
They sat like that for a while. When Sage shifted, Bryce let go and then leaned in, a small tilt to his lips that asked a question. “Yeah.” Sage nodded, and Bryce kissed him.
Bryce didn’t rush the kiss. Just the slow slide of his mouth over Sage’s.
Sage lifted a hand to Bryce’s jaw and kept it there, feeling the stubble under his palm.
Different from a woman but not so different that Sage pushed Bryce away.
Bryce’s hand landed on Sage’s thigh, above the knee, fingers digging in, making Sage gasp as his cock hardened.
They broke for air and stayed close. Bryce’s forehead touched Sage’s. “Still okay?”
“Still okay,” Sage said.
Bryce sat back an inch, eyes clearer. “I’m going to be weird today.”
“I already accounted for that.” Sage chuckled softly.
“Rude,” Bryce said, grinning now for real.
They showered separately because Sage was nowhere near ready to see Bryce naked that way. After, they cleaned up the remnants of the party that Sage had missed. The apartment looked like itself again but at the same time different as well.
Bryce hovered near his bedroom door. “Meet back here at five? I have work to finish.”
“Five,” Sage said. “I’ll book the table.”
“Okay.” Bryce stepped in, hesitated, then leaned back out to catch Sage by the sleeve and pull him in for a quick kiss that made Sage’s stomach drop. “See you.”
Sage watched the door close and told himself to move.
He booked a table at the restaurant. He answered three texts.
He stared at the wall for a full minute and then went to his room to find a shirt that didn’t look like he’d slept in it.
At four forty-five, Bryce came out in a clean button-down that made his eyes look lighter and his hair look darker.
He halted as if he hadn’t expected Sage to be ready at the same second.
“You look good,” Bryce said.
“So do you,” Sage responded, his eyes traveling over Bryce.
They stood there like idiots for a second, then both reached for the door at the same time and ended up laughing. “Walk or bus?” Bryce asked, pulling the door open.
“Walk,” Sage said. “It’s cold.”
Bryce arched an eyebrow. “That’s not a reason to walk.”
“It is if you want to hold hands and have an excuse.”
Bryce’s ears went a little pink, which Sage thought looked cute on him, not that he would say anything.
He shut the door behind them and lifted his hand without making a big deal.
Bryce took it. The hallway was empty, and the building was quiet.
The air outside bit at their faces and turned their breath white, but their hands stayed linked, and no one looked. If they did, Sage didn’t care anyway.
They walked the five blocks and talked about normal things. Bryce told a story about Gage breaking a beaker last semester that still made him laugh. Sage listened. At the restaurant door, Bryce stopped and squeezed his hand once as he looked at him. Sage squeezed back, and they went inside.
The host found their table. A small one in a corner with the candle already lit.
No eyes on them that mattered. Sage heard the breath Bryce let out, watched him sit and relax.
The last of Sage’s worries slid away. They didn’t talk about labels.
They didn’t need to. They ordered and ate and talked about college and friends, and at some point, Bryce reached across the table and hooked his thumb against Sage’s knuckles.
It stayed there for most of the meal. When Sage looked up, Bryce wasn’t looking away.
After they’d finished eating, Sage paid for their meal. “I booked, so I’ll pay.”
“Next time, it’s my turn.”
“Fine.” Sage nodded. “I’ll book that fancy Chinese place.”
Snorting, Bryce shook his head. “I’ll have to save up then. Didn’t know you had expensive taste.”
“I’m joking. Takeout is fine with me.”
On the walk back, the air was even colder. Their hands found each other and, halfway to the building, Bryce laughed at something Sage said and leaned in to bump their shoulders. Sage bumped back. Nice and easy with no tension.
At the door of their building, Bryce paused. “Porn night is canceled,” he said.
“Good.” Sage grinned. “I didn’t want to share the remote.”
Bryce shook his head. “You’re the worst.”
“You knew that before you kissed me.”
Bryce returned Sage’s smile. “Yeah. I did.”