Page 37 of Screens Apart

“How’s Patrick?” I asked, suddenly thinking of a way to change the subject. Patrick was a pastry chef Connor had been dreamily pining over for years. They’d met when Connor had started doing some part-time waiting shifts at the restaurant where Patrick worked. He’d been a goner ever since.

“Don’t change the subject.” There was a definite flush to his cheeks that wasn’t from his blusher, and I grinned.

“I’m not. But I could ask you the same question. Why aren’t you and Patrick doing dirty things to each other every night? I know you like him.”

“That’s different,” Connor said. His face dropped, a sad smile on his lips. “I don’t think Patrick feels like that about me.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry,” I said, reaching my hand across the table and squeezing his. Connor nodded and squeezed back.

“What are you sorry about?” Simon asked, dropping into his seat.

“Connor’s crush doesn’t know he exists.” It wasn’t quite the truth, but it was close enough, and it meant Connor wouldn’t have to talk about it.

“That sucks. I’m sorry.” Simon nodded in commiseration. Then he smiled brightly. “Did you know Taylor’s favourite film isMr. Smith Will See You Now? He made me watch it with him last week. And he rewound it so he could show me the guy’s dick!”

Connor’s happy grin returned as he looked at me, and I suddenly felt like I was a gazelle being sized up by a tiny lion. I was going to kill Simon.

Three hours later, we all stumbled home, full of food, and collapsed into bed. Simon in his room and Connor tucked in alongside me.

It was strange sleeping with another man in my bed. It had only been a week, but I was used to curling up with Simon, putting my arm around him and tucking him into me. I didn’t think Connor would mind if I ended up spooning him in my sleep, but I’d probably die of embarrassment if I woke up with a hard-on.

Connor fell asleep quickly, his tiny kitten snores filling my room. I snorted, tempted to record them so he could hear himself in the morning. I rolled over in bed, sighing and trying to force myself to relax. I knew I needed to sleep, but I was strangely on edge. My body felt tight and tense, and no matter how many deep breathing exercises I tried, nothing seemed to work.

An hour later, according to my phone, I gave up trying.

I was frustrated, bored, and a little horny. This was not working. But I knew something that would.

Double-checking that Connor was asleep, I snuck out of bed, tiptoeing across the room and slowly pulled open the door. It squeaked and I froze, twisting my head. Connor gave a little high-pitched squeak and rolled over, but that was it. I breathed a sigh of relief and stepped into the corridor. The flat was quiet, and I could hear Steve snoring from his room.

An excited grin curled my lips as I snuck down to Simon’s room, nervous heat flaring in my gut. It was almost exciting; sneaking out of bed to go and visit a boy in his room. I’d done it with my first boyfriend when we were teenagers and his parents had insisted we sleep in separate bedrooms. I didn’t know what they thought we were going to do at night that we weren’t already doing during the day when they were out of the house. We’d just learnt to be a lot quieter about it.

Simon’s door clicked open. In the dim light, I could see him curled up on what had quickly become “his” side of the bed, duvet pulled tight around him like a cocoon. He was so fucking adorable, and I couldn’t stop myself from watching him for a minute. A little shiver ran across my skin, and I realised standing around in just a thin t-shirt and my boxers was not going to keep me warm.

I picked my way across the room, sliding under the duvet and snuggling up to him. Simon was like a nuclear reactor when he was asleep, but I was cold from standing there watching him like that creepy vampire boy from those teen novels Connor had been obsessed with in high school. Simon was ridiculously toasty, and I hummed happily as I pressed up against him, gleefully stealing his body heat.

“Wha?” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. “Taylor?”

“Go back to sleep,” I said, kissing his shoulder blade. “I was cold, and I missed you.”

There was a moment of silence, and I thought he’d gone back to sleep. Then he spoke, his voice so quiet it was barely audible. “I missed you too. I didn’t think I was going to get to sleep.”

“I couldn’t sleep either.” It felt odd to speak the words out loud. They made me feel vulnerable. My stomach squirmed, my chest squeezing tightly as I waited for him to respond. How was it that such a small admission could make me feel like I’d hurled myself off a cliff?

Simon rolled over in my arms, his hand caressing my jaw and drawing me in for a kiss. His lips were soft and insistent. I pulled him against me, desire burning in my chest. Now he was awake in my arms, I couldn’t resist the temptation to have a little fun.

After all, what was the point of a sexy, secret midnight visit without the sexy part?

My hands found the bottom of the t-shirt he was wearing, tugging it off over his head, our lips only parting for a second. Fuck, I loved kissing him. Simon groaned as he ground against me, his cock already hard in the loose pyjama shorts he was wearing.

“Take them off,” I said, my voice low and rough. I stripped off my own clothes, tossing them onto the floor. I’d find them in the morning. Simon was naked now, and I rolled on top of him as our mouths met in more hungry kisses. He moaned as I slid my tongue into his mouth, my aching cock rubbing against his.

“Shh, baby.” I kissed down his neck and scraped my teeth across the sensitive skin. “You’ve gotta keep quiet.”

“S-sorry,” he said, whimpering as I ground down against him. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

“You’re so sexy.” I levered up on my arms for a moment, staring down at his face in the dim light. “So beautiful and perfect for me.” Simon opened his mouth, probably to argue, but I circled my hips, and he groaned instead. I chuckled, kissing him again, slower this time. “Does that feel good?”

Simon nodded, another little moan escaping as he threw his head back onto the pillow. He ground up against me, desperately seeking more friction. Sparks of pleasure danced across my heated skin as we frotted against each other, and I already felt a familiar tightening in my gut.

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