Page 124 of The Frathole
He sneaks a look over his shoulder, his lips curling into a mischievous smirk. “You’ll see,” he practically hums, and the way he’s eyeing me, I don’t press because I have a feeling I’m gonna like wherever this is going.
We start down the hallway on the second floor, when we hear sounds coming from one of the rooms, both of us recognizing the voices even before hearing, “Fuck me, Ash. Fuck me harder.”
I cringe but can’t fight a smile. We exchange a look, and I can tell Ryan’s thinking the same thing I am.
“Maybe one last time?” he says, as though reading my mind.
We approach the door, and Ryan presses his knuckle against it, cracking it open. I close my eyes, unsure I can follow through with it, but then I force myself to peek. With their togas on the floor, Colin lies on his back on the desk with Ash holding his legs, drilling him like it’s his job.
“This looks familiar,” Ryan whispers before Colin turns and catches us.
“Oh, hey, guys!”
Ash spins around, offering a half-wave and a “’sup,” which doesn’t seem to affect his thrusts.
I can’t look long, though. It’s too weird, so I pull back, and Ryan starts to close the door.
I stop him. “I think they’ll enjoy it more if it’s cracked open.”
“Such a good friend,” Ryan teases before we continue down the hall.
“Never thought I’d say this, but I’m gonna miss potentially running into them.”
“I have a feeling that’s still a real possibility with those guys.”
“Yeah, I think if we head to the fourth floor of the library, we’ll still have plenty of opportunities.”
As Ryan approaches another room, he checks the knob—it isn’t locked. He guides me inside the space, empty except for the basics—bed, dresser, desk.
“I’m guessing this was your room?”
He grins. “Yeah. I never had a chance to show it to you.”
“I assume it’s a lot tidier than it was when you were living in it.” It’s an intentional dig at the mess I learned he was when he moved into my room, and really, he hasn’t changed much since.
He places his hand over his heart. “Ow. I’m not that bad.”
“I think you’re back to gaslighting me,” I joke.
He’s all teeth as he pulls his phone out of a pocket in his toga.
“What are you doing?” I ask, but he doesn’t respond, just keys away before setting his phone on his desk.
It takes a moment for the music to start playing. I recognize it because it’s the song I used when I was first teaching him how to tango. Tango classes ended a few weeks ago, but Ryan and I have kept up our lessons, getting even better.
“My turn to lead,” he says, taking my hand and resting the other against my back. I don’t resist him, and we start to move through the basics.
It surprises me at first how easily I go along with him, especially considering the reason why I preferred to lead was because of how I wanted to be in control, but Ryan’s helped me loosen the reins on that a bit.
But only a bit.
As we travel in a circle, I get lost in the sparkle in his blue irises, wondering if they were always this blue or if I only see them this way because of how my feelings for him have changed.
“You know Ty and Lance are moving in together,” he says.
“I do.”
“I was thinking…we should discuss the possibility of moving in together too.”
