Page 88 of Make the Play
Emerson offers a shaky exhale before nodding. “I’m on your team, Jason.”
* * *
“Doyou need anything from your apartment?” Jason asks, feeling as nervous as a teenager on his first date.
They’d stayed so late to ensure all the students left safely and to begin some of the clean up, that the parking lot is entirely empty, leaving no one but Jason and Emerson standing underneath the too bright parking lot light.
“I don’t have a toothbrush or pajamas.”
“I’ve got a whole pack of extra toothbrushes from Costco under my sink,” Jason tells him. “And uh, you could wear mine. Well, I don’t wear pajamas. I usually just sleep in sweats and a t-shirt unless it’s too hot then I only sleep in my boxers.”
Emerson’s gaze is locked on his, unblinking. “You don’t mind if I wear your pajamas?”
“No,” Jason croaks, clearing his throat. Mind doesn’t begin to cover it. He’s never considered himself some kind of stereotypically possessive man, but the idea of seeing Emerson’s lanky, lithe body inhisclothing does it for Jason.
Ever since he offered Emerson his hoodie when he was cold and had watched the way it dwarfed him, he’s been driven to distraction wanting to see it on him again. Jason knows he’s a big guy, it’s impossible to forget, but something about seeing proof of how much bigger than Emerson he is, makes him want to scream. Or maybe get Emerson in his bed and never let him out.
For over a year, Jason’s been happily acquainted with his right hand without complaint, yet one kiss from Emerson and he’s pretty sure he might die if Emerson doesn’t touch him. Not that he’s going to force him, or push for anything. He meant what he said before. Even if they do nothing tonight but cuddle, Jason will be over the fucking moon. He’s never wanted to be around someone the way he does Emerson.
“Are you sure? You look kind of stressed?”
“I’m trying not to get hard thinking about you in my clothes or in my bed,” Jason admits, because Emerson likes honesty, and he’s not sure he’s a good enough liar to pretend.
“You—oh.” Emerson licks his lips. “I thought—Charlie mentioned girls used to steal your stuff. I thought you wouldn’t like it. I’ve been meaning to give you your hoodie back.”
“Charlie’s got a big fucking mouth,” Jason grumbles. “Also, don’t you dare give it back.”
“Why?” Emerson asks, because of course he does.
In all things, Emerson wants the truth, uncomplicated and without preamble, and it’s what he’s going to get. Whatever happens with Emerson, it won’t fail because of communication, Jason will make sure of it.
“Because seeing you in that hoodie after you borrowed it at school a few weeks ago made me realize how much I like seeing you in my clothing.” Jason closes the small space between them, reaching for Emerson the way he’s been aching to do for hours. “I want to take you home and see you in my bed, in my clothes. I want you to smell like me.”
“I read a book like that once,” Emerson says, making Jason laugh.
“Was it a werewolf book? Pretty sure Andrew reads those. Then again, he reads a lot. I’m scared of his Kindle history.”
Emerson shakes his head, his voice going very high pitched. “Fairies.”
“Fairies, huh. Were you reading fairy porn, Emmy?”
“It’s not porn,” Emerson balks. “It’s romance with um, well, sex.”
“I’m just teasing,” Jason whispers, letting his fingers glide into Emerson’s beautiful, soft hair. In response, he tips his head back, throat exposed and eyes turning up to meet Jason’s. He trusts Jason, to touch, to be gentle, and Jason wants to scream with how good it feels. He’s not even doing more than playing with Emerson’s hair, and it’s so damn perfect.
“Do you mean it?” Emerson asks.
“Oh, Emmy. I mean everything I say.”
Emerson surges up, closing the distance between them in an unexpected kiss. It’s too forceful, his teeth scraping Jason’s lips and his hands scrambling at Jason’s suit, but the fact that Emerson—his sweet, never initiates physical contact Emerson—kissedhimfirst makes this one of the best fucking kisses of Jason’s life.
When Emerson pulls back, his eyes are wide like he can’t believe what he just did. He touches his mouth, delicate fingers skimming over his equally delicate mouth. He really is beautiful.
“Ready to go home?” Jason asks, only realizing his slip up once the words are out of his mouth.
Part of him wants to correct himself but the truth is, he didn’t misspeak. Emerson’s been to his house enough now, albeit under different circumstances, that Jason wants it to feel like his home. He wants Emerson to feel welcome there, and safe.
“I’m ready,” Emerson nods, “but um, there’s just one thing I need from my apartment. I can’t sleep without it but?—”
