Chapter 95: Cute and anxious
Chapter 94
Jack
I stretch and groan in bed, from the harsh morning sunlight and the sound of waves crashing outside the window.
I don’t remember how I came home last night, all I remember is that once we got home, I pinned Nolan against the wall, by the stairs. The memory is vivid—his back pressed against the cool plaster, his breath coming in ragged gasps as I captured his mouth in a fierce, hungry kiss.
We made out like teenagers, desperate and urgent, until he came undone on my knee, his release soaking through the fabric of his pants. The feel of him, the sound of his whimpers, it’s all etched into my mind.
By the time I stumbled back to my room, my heartbeat hadn’t slowed down.
The memory of Nolan’s whimpers, the taste of his lips, it was enough to send me over the edge. I took myself in hand, my strokes hard and fast, chasing the release that had been building all night. It was a rushed, desperate affair, but it left me sated and drowsy, collapsing into bed with a satisfied groan.
A successful date, I’d say.
I roll onto my back, arm over my eyes, still feeling the ghost of his weight against me. There’s a lazy grin tugging at my lips that I can’t seem to shake off.
Outside, I can hear laughter—Ciel’s voice, Lanny’s baby chatter, the faint clatter of dishes. Nolan’s deeper tone joins them, and my chest tightens with something warm and stupidly fond.
I drag a hand over my face, sigh, and mutter to the ceiling, "Guess I should get up before they eat everything without me."
***
Ciel
"So this is our date?"
I rest a hand on my hip, staring at our bedroom — which now looks like a scene from some coming-of-age movie. There are snacks everywhere, a string of LED lights looped around the headboard, and a laptop perched on a pillow.
"Yes." Nolan says, looking ridiculously proud of himself.
"We’re going to..." I squint at the setup. "Watch a movie?"
"Yes," he repeats, smile bright enough to rival the LEDs.
"Don’t judge me. I’m living out my teenage fantasy here, okay?"
"Teenage fantasy?"
"Yeah. You know, where you invite the boy you like over for a movie, and maybe—hopefully—you get to second base." He shrugs, pretending to sound casual, but the pink at his ears betrays him.
"Counting hatched eggs already?" I tease, dropping onto the floor beside the snacks.
"I said hopefully," he protests, settling next to me and starting the laptop.
The film begins, some sappy romantic comedy, but I barely see it. I’m too busy watching him. The way he relaxes by degrees, the flicker of color from the LEDs tracing his jawline — Nolan is attractive, like extremely so the only that doesn’t seem to understand that is him.
Is this what it would have been like? To sneak into someone’s room as a teenager, sharing snacks and stolen glances? He’s managed to build that feeling from scratch , something I didn’t even realize I’d missed.
And then he does it — the classic move: that slow, awkward stretch before his arm lands around my shoulders.
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. He’s actually doing this.
"How’s the movie?" he asks, voice just a little too steady.
"It’s okay," I answer, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
He looks at me. Then the screen. Then me again. Over and over, like he’s stuck in a loop of his own nervousness.
This dork. Has Nolan always been such a dork?
Well I guess so, he’s literally just a jacked nerd if you think about it.
I place my hand on his thigh. He jumps. Actually jumps.
Is he serious? We’ve had dates with Jack where things get much less innocent — and now he’s flustered over a hand on his leg?
He’s adorable.
Before I can stop myself, I lean in and press a light kiss to his lips.
He blinks, stunned. "The movie..." he manages.
"What movie?" I murmur.
His gaze flickers to the laptop, where the end credits roll.
"Right," he breathes, "what movie."
I smile and curl a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him in for a real kiss this time — slow, deliberate, the kind that makes the LEDs blur into stars.
***
Nolan
Kill me now.
It’s time for me to go to the afterlife.
Ciel is kissing me.
I mean—we’ve kissed before, but this... this is different.
My brain is short-circuiting, my heart’s pounding like I’ve just sprinted across the beach, and my entire body feels like it’s on fire. He’s so close I can taste the sweetness of the candy we shared earlier, feel the soft weight of his hair brushing against my cheek.
I hesitate, my hand hanging awkwardly in the air, before finally placing it on his shoulder. But apparently, that’s his cue—because Ciel moves.
He swings a leg over me, straddling my lap in one fluid motion.
And I make the most embarrassing sound known to mankind.
Ciel freezes for half a second, pulling back just enough to look at me, and I can see the amusement flickering behind his eyes. Oh, he’s enjoying this.
I glare weakly. "Don’t."
"Don’t what?" His voice is soft, teasing. His hands are on my shoulders now, thumbs tracing lazy circles against my shirt collar.
"Don’t say anything," I grumble, already regretting opening my mouth at all.
"Say what?" He tilts his head, feigning innocence—but there’s mischief in his eyes, that knowing glint that always spells trouble.
I try to glare at him, but it’s hopeless. My expression just makes him grin wider.
"That you’re so cute," he says simply, leaning in to press a kiss to my cheek.
I sputter. "I’m not cute."
"Sure you are." Another kiss,on my other cheek this time, and he even makes that exaggerated little mwah sound he uses when he’s teasing Lanny.
I groan and grab him by the waist, pulling him closer out of sheer exasperation—and, okay, maybe because I want him closer. I rest my head on his shoulder with a sigh that comes out more like a whimper.
My heartbeat’s ridiculous, way too fast for someone who’s supposedly calm. I can feel the warmth of his body through his shirt, and every small movement sends sparks through me.
This feels unreal. Too good. Like something I’ll wake up from if I move too suddenly.
"I really like you, Ciel," I whisper before I can stop myself, the words barely brushing his shoulder.
He stills for a moment, then his arms tighten around me. His fingers thread gently through my hair, and I feel him smile against my temple.
And then because he can’t ever just leave a tender moment alone, he adds, "So, when are we getting to the second base part of the date?"
He says it so casually that for a second my brain refuses to process the words.
Then the meaning hits me and I freeze.
"You—what—Ciel!" I stammer, my voice cracking embarrassingly on his name.
He laughs, and that sound,warm, low, completely unbothered pulls the breath right out of my lungs. Of course he’s laughing.
He’s always been like this—a tease through and through. It’s the core of our friendship. He loves pushing, testing boundaries, watching me trip over my words like it’s the best entertainment in the world.
And the thing is... I don’t even hate it.
Maybe because I’ve seen him with Jack. I’ve seen how soft he can be, the loving looks, the easy touches, the kind of affection that seems to pour out of him without effort. I expected that version of Ciel tonight. The gentle one. The one who makes people melt.
But no. Instead, I get this, his teasing grin, his playful tone, the way he enjoys flustering me like it’s a sport. And somehow... it makes it feel real.
Because this isn’t some perfect, idealized version of him I built in my head. This is him—alive, annoying, confident, real.
"I thought that’s what we were both looking forward to?" he says, his voice dropping as his fingers trail up from my collar to my jaw. His thumb brushes the edge of my chin, tilting my face up.
"Unless you don’t want to?" he adds, softer now, his teasing fading just enough to let something sincere slip through.
I shake my head instantly. Too quickly. My pulse is loud in my ears, but my voice still won’t come out.
He leans in before I can even think, and I meet him halfway. The kiss is soft at first,gentle, testing but the moment our lips touch, something inside me gives way.
I kiss him back without thinking, fingers tightening on his waist like he’s the only solid thing in the room.
He pulls back just slightly, close enough that I can still feel his breath against my skin.
"I didn’t think I’d ever be on the receiving end of the lessons I gave," he murmurs, his voice low, teasing again, before pressing his lips to that sensitive spot between my neck and ear.
I’m going to fucking die.
I’ll die a happy man though.