Chapter 7
Colten makes a startled sound against my lips.
Then he kisses me back, hard.
The taste of alcohol on his lips hits immediately, warm and sharp, and suddenly I’m aware that yeah, I might be drunk.
Because this feels insane, and incredible, and I cannot get enough of it.
My hands slide into his hair, messing up that ponytail even more. His hair is silky smooth, gliding between my fingers as Colten bites the bottom of my lip.
I gasp at the sharp pain, and Colten takes advantage of my open mouth. He brings his tongue into my mouth, making me shiver.
I barely have time to process the heat of his mouth before he grabs my shoulders and moves us.
One moment he’s against the shed, and the next I am.
The cool metal presses against my bare back as Colten pins me there, one hand moving back to grip the back of my neck.
And wow. Okay! This is different.
I’ve kissed girls before, and while some of them have taken charge, none of them have been as strong or commanding as Colten.
Colten kisses me like it’s his right, holding my head in place as he licks into my mouth and makes me take it. I’m strong enough to push him away—I’m not a D2 athlete for nothing—but when I bring my hands up, my fingers just grip his shirt, keeping him close.
My knees feel weak as I think about how Colten is also a strong D2 athlete.
I slide down the wall, and Colten follows without breaking the kiss. His hand tightens around the back of my neck and holds my face against his, even though I’m not trying to escape.
God, I am absolutely not trying to escape.
The static in my mind is just getting louder as heat coils in the depths of my stomach, making me that much more desperate for him.
Eventually, we end up sitting on the ground, my back against the shed as Colten straddles my lap. Colten is heavy in my lap, his legs pressing tight around my hips.
My body is burning, overheating despite the fact that I’m only wearing shorts and shoes and we’re in the shade.
Even in the haze of the heat, though, I notice something strange—his hands don’t stray below my shoulders. One stays gripping my neck, and the other cupping my jaw.
He’s not roaming or grabbing. He’s not doing any of the things girls usually do when they’re making out with me. Strange.
His thumb brushes lightly along my cheek, soft and careful, which is the complete opposite of the hand holding my neck in place.
When he tightens his grip on my neck, my stomach swoops, like I missed a step on the stairs, but in a good way. I lean into his touch without thinking, and he gives me an approving hum.
I realize, distantly, that I never want this to stop. There’s something about the way he’s holding me, the way the smell of his sweat envelops me, that takes me completely out of my head.
I’m not thinking about if this was a good idea, or if I’m kissing right, or waiting for the moment it becomes more of a chore than it’s worth. There’s just this, just him.
When Colten’s hips move forward, I also realize that my dick is straining against my shorts. The feeling of Colten’s hips brushing against my hard-on makes me moan into his mouth.
Colten backs away just enough to look at me. I open my eyes, blinking slowly and confused, not sure why he stopped. The light shining around him is like a halo, the pinks and purples of the sunset framing him beyond his bright glow.
He holds my jaw in place, searching for something in my gaze, before rolling his hips forward again and grinding against my dick.
I can’t help it—I let out another low moan, biting my lip and squeezing my eyes shut as my hips try to meet his, but then he meanly takes his hips back. I snap my eyes back open.
“You’re a bit of a slut, huh?” Colten asks, which, uh, rude?
But also, my hips jerk up, so I guess I’m into it. Colten tightens his grip on my jaw, turning me this way and that as he looks me over.
“It’s a good look on you,” he murmurs, voice low and smooth.
I squeeze my eyes shut again and shiver, though it’s not because I’m shirtless. I know I can pull him closer, get his lips back on mine, but something about the way he’s looking at me keeps me from doing so.
It makes sense. During our friendship, I’ve always followed his lead, and I trust him more than I trust myself.
Of course, it makes sense I’d follow him in this, too.
Colten leans back in, the heat of his mouth welcome as I easily open up for him. His hips find mine again, slowly grinding against me, and I almost sob with relief. My fingers tighten in his shirt, and no doubt stretch it out as my hips grind up towards his.
Colten’s mouth moves against mine, warm and insistent, and my hands clutch onto the front of his shirt like I might float away if I let go. Which feels very possible, given how floaty I feel.
I feel drunker than before, as if the alcohol in his mouth was enough to push me further over the edge—
“Hey!” someone shouts from the field.
Neither of us stops because people shout at each other on the field all the time while playing soccer. It’s basically our entire culture.
Colten kisses me again, slower this time, his thumb brushing the corner of my mouth before tilting my head slightly so he can kiss me deeper. I lose myself to the feeling of our slick mouths moving together, the taste of him pushing deeper into my mouth.
Then—
“Turn the music off!”
The speaker from the field cuts mid-song, and Colten freezes.
I make a deeply offended noise when he pulls back.
“Hey,” I protest.
“Shh,” he hushes me while looking back toward the field. His hand is still on the back of my neck, which feels promising.
Then we hear a tinny voice projecting: “You guys need to break it up right now. Security’s on the way. There will be violations issued.”
A chorus of panicked shouting erupts from the field. Despite our hidden spot away from it all, I can still make out some of the shouts.
“Security?”
“Grab those bags!”
“Who brought the cooler?!”
Colten’s eyes widen as he stands up, looking past the shed and over to the field.
“Patrick, we need to leave,” he says urgently.
“Ah.” Right, we’re technically trespassing right now. Whoops.
I grab his hand when he holds it out and let him pull me up, but my legs immediately wobble.
“Whoa,” I say.
“Are you okay?” Colten asks.
“Totally,” I say confidently, even though the ground briefly tilts.
Then Julian and Rowan come running past, hands connected as they look back at the field, before noticing us.
“Wha—were you guys making out?!” Julian asks, his mouth open wide as he skids to a stop before Rowan yanks him forward.
“No time to ogle, Jules,” Rowan tells him, though he does shoot us a curious look. “We can congratulate them after I don’t get arrested. I’m not a student here anymore, remember?"
“Oh, crap,” Julian says, waving at us as they continue to run off. “We’ll talk later!”
I look over at Colten, who is watching them with a fond but exasperated expression. I squeeze his hand, and he turns to me.
“We should run too, right?” I ask him.
Then I hear someone yell, “They’re bringing the dogs!”
Colten’s eyebrows raise before he pulls me forward. “Unless you want us to be dog food, let’s go!”
We sprint across the grass toward the fence, laughter bubbling up and out of me before I can stop it.
This is objectively a terrible situation, which somehow makes it incredibly funny.
Colten joins in, laughing right with me, which…
Colten laughs sometimes, sure. Quiet chuckles, the occasional snort or bark of laughter when someone, usually me, says something particularly stupid and funny.
But this? This is full, breathless laughter. It’s loud and carefree, like he shrugged off something heavy that was weighing him down.
The sound of it makes me feel giddy, as if we’re not currently escaping, and my cheeks burn as I laugh even louder with him.
And as we laugh and run over the hills so we can escape over the fence, the past few minutes start to catch up with me.
So, we just make out. Like, a lot.
Is it gay to want to kiss your best friend?
I mean, probably.
But also, hear me out:
It’s been a stressful semester—finals, the evaluations, and, not to mention, I haven’t really dated anyone in months. No one’s really caught my eye since the injury.
I tried hitting on Amy, the girl going after Julian, the other day, but that was more curiosity than anything. Plus, it was kind of hot when she was mean.
And while Colten is gay and should be swimming in dick with his good looks, for some reason he doesn’t date, with the excuse that he doesn’t want anything temporary.
But we’re best friends, and we will be best friends for the rest of our lives, so really, we’re anything but temporary.
So this? This is just stress relief for both of us, best friends helping each other work out their frustrations.
Not to mention, there’s the horny glowing. I mean, Colten said he was thinking about me while glowing, and he doesn’t like me, not like that.
I am pretty good looking, and he is gay, so I guess it makes sense he might be attracted to me.
But still, he doesn’t love me. I think I would’ve noticed if he did, but he still treats me the same as when we went for the same header in freshman year.
Plus, I was definitely straight before the whole magic thing, so if anything, the glowing magic made me attracted to Colten.
Why else would I be glowing while thinking about him?
Honestly, I should be applauded for handling suddenly being gay so well.
“Don’t tell me it’s too high for you,” Colten says as he looks at me from the other side of the fence, as he’s already climbed it.
Ah, it seems like I’ve been thinking a little too hard.
The fence is tall, made of interlocking wired metal, but nothing I can’t handle. Especially not when Colten already did it and is watching me expectantly.
“Of course not,” I tell him, grabbing the metal and finding it impossible to get a foothold with my big feet. Instead, I have to rely entirely on my grip strength before swinging myself over.
I’m grunting and sweating, but I manage to clear it before splatting onto the ground next to Colten.