Alistair ghosted from the beachside bonfire before Jennifer could think to tag along. He used the bathroom as an excuse and dipped, never to return.

    Alone in his condo, Alistair was quick to ditch his sandy clothes and scrub his skin raw in the shower. His excuse was obvious to no one but him—and maybe Micah. He'd never use a public restroom, especially a portable one at the beach.

    An impressively large part of him hoped Micah caught the lie and ran with it. It was shocking to Alistair's system that he was geared up at all. Further inspection proved this was to be expected: Micah had looked beyond good at the beach, and Alistair was replaying the competitive edge in Micah's glare over in his mind.

    He wanted that look in his bedroom yesterday. Okay, perhaps not yesterday, but certainly now.

    A glance at his phone confirmed Micah hadn't texted. Alistair didn't expect him to, but the hope was still there as he exited the shower.

    Just to play it safe, prep was in order. If nothing became of the night, at the very least Alistair could say he'd been prepared and would get more sleep anyway.

    He settled into bed with his phone for all of five minutes before three quick knocks sounded on his front door. Within seconds, Alistair was out of bed and checking the peephole on the door—Micah, as expected.

    So predictable, Alistair thought as he turned the locks and opened the door. "Bonfire done?"

    "Yeah," Micah said. He didn't so much step inside as he did glance inside. "Is it okay if I...?"

    Alistair opened the door wider with a gesture to enter. As the door shut, Alistair gestured to the two relevant doors: washer and bathroom respectively.

    "I—Wait," Micah said, shaking his head. "I just came to talk."

    "Oh." Alistair glanced back at the bedroom, gesturing to it with his thumb. "We could talk then fuck?"

    Micah blinked prettily—everything he did was a little too pretty for Alistair to handle. His eyelashes were stark and thick on his patchy tan and sunburn blush. "Oh. I figured after yesterday you weren't interested."

    Micah's conclusion made sense in theory. In theory, Alistair shouldn't be here right now. In theory, he would have normally left that morning after dinner and after Jennifer had pushed his buttons one too many times. A week ahead of schedule, Alistair was ready for the city again.

    When Alistair shrugged, exasperated by the claim, Micah rolled his eyes, grabbed his shirt by the hem, and shucked it over his head. "Whatever. Give me a sec," he said, like he wasn't just strip-teasing Alistair in the foyer.

    While waiting for Micah to clean up, Alistair gave him privacy and returned to his phone on the bed. It was there that Micah found him again, burrowed under the covers with his phone in his face. He put the screen down at the first sight of Micah tussling the water from his hair, towel turning it all into an unruly, damp mess.

    He was naked, cocking one hip to the side, and saying,

    "Weird question: Can I borrow some underwear?"

    Alistair had to clear his throat. "Closet, left side. Top drawer."

    "Thanks." Alistair proceeded to lean further into view of Micah's back as he inspected the contents of Alistair's top drawer. And then, bent over and stepping into a pair of boxers, Micah's ass on display...

    Alistair settled back, innocently, though Micah wasn't done. He stole a peek into the second drawer, and then the third. A grin pulled at his lips, eyes on the ceiling.

    "I don't keep lingerie here."

    "Asshole."

    "Why, would you wear some for me?"

    Micah returned to the bedroom, scowling, shutting off the light and shutting the door. "Yeah, and I take it I look like the type, too." Sarcastic.

    "You do." Genuine.

    Micah was on the bed, shoving his hand in Alistair's face. "Come off it. I do not."

    Alistair laughed, turning on his side as Micah flopped down, yanking at the covers. As Micah descended, snuggling into the sheets, he said, "Is this a slumber party or something? Are we gonna gossip under the covers now? Shoulda brought my fucking flashlight, fuck."

    Micah disappeared under the sheets, wiggling down to the very end of the bed. His hands were cold on Alistair's thighs, his knees, until finally, squeezing his calves to pull his legs apart. Alistair raised one leg to hook over Micah's shoulder, pulling him in.

    Muffled, breath on Alistair's hip and cheek where Alistair's softened cock was masked by a pair of boxers, Micah said, "Fuck, you really don't keep lingerie here." He nipped at the hem, pulled it, and let the elastic snap back into place on Alistair's inner thigh.

    Alistair shuffled his hips, head back against the pillows. "You said you wanted to talk?" he said, which prompted the covers to raise and a pocket of warm air to bubble between them when Micah rose.

    His head peeked out from the covers. Scowling. "Okay, well, that makes it sound like, 'We need to talk.'" He mocked a serious baritone.

    "You're the one fucking soliciting conversation! Set the tone, will you?" Alistair said, beside himself with laughter.

    Micah rolled off him with a great big chimney-sweeper sigh. He hit the mattress with a bounce, like a whale onboard an unsuspecting ship. Alistair realized then that, with Micah's reluctance, he didn't want to have this talk at all. In fact, he'd probably hoped Alistair was already hard under the covers so as to distract the both of them.

    So it's serious, Alistair thought.

    "Alright, fine," Micah said, up on one elbow. He slapped his hand down. "I come to you with concerns from Benny. And myself. But I have less skin in the matter so do with that what you will."

    Alistair settled back to look at Micah fully, alarmed. "Oh no."

    "It's not bad. It could be construed as bad."

    "I reiterate: Oh no."

    Micah's head hung. He flailed his arm again, glancing up, and saying, "Why the fuck do you let that chick walk all over you? Benny fucking hates her."

    The shock of the topic startled a laugh out of Alistair, which promptly turned hysterical. He covered his eyes, smiling so wide his eyes started tearing up.

    "It's not funny. She's a bitch. And I'm pretty sure she's homophobic and salty Benny got the ring to marry a man instead of you and her."

    Alistair was laughing again. "Seriously?"

    "She brought it up at the fire last night." Micah shoved him a little, and Alistair insisted he was done laughing. "Does she even know you're bi?"

    "What makes you say she'd be pissed about that?"

    "She has 'I have a gay friend' energy. I don't know how to explain it other than that."

    "Then no. She doesn't know I'm bi," Alistair said, brushing his hands under his eyes. "This happens every year. I only ever see her for maybe two months a year, if that."

    That just floored Micah even more. "Why?" He shook his head, flabbergasted. "I mean, it's none of my business—"

    "No. It is your business," Alistair reassured. "You had to meet her. I didn't mean for her to be around when you guys showed up. She has impeccable timing."

    "No fucking kidding." Micah dragged a hand over his forehead and up over his floppy, damp bangs. He pushed them back, only for them to fall forward again. "And speaking of, she's got no boundaries. So I'm gonna ask again: Why?"

    Alistair shrugged. Indifferent.

    Micah rose his eyebrows. Unconvinced.

    "She's fucking fantastic in bed. Is that what you wanna know?" Alistair said.

    "So what you're telling me is that you're overlooking everything we just laid out—I wasn't the only one that contributed to the fucking list here!" Alistair rolled his eyes. "You're overlooking all of that for some pussy. Seriously?"

    "Well, it's never gonna happen again. Until next year," Alistair said. "I'm leaving North Carolina after you guys go."

    "Why even next year?" Micah seethed, fury leeching in. He dropped his head into his hands, scrubbing his face. "Half the time it's like you have no common sense."

    "I just love this town," he said, "and her unit is next to mine. She always knows when I get in. It's like clockwork."

    "It's like you need to sell this place and get a new condo," Micah moaned into his hands. "She's cursed. Cursed."

    "Benny really hates her, huh?" Alistair said with a grin. When Micah gave him a dull stare, Alistair said, "Good. Now he knows what it feels like."

    "Why stay here when a perfectly, non-cursed apartment exists somewhere else? You have the money for it," Micah said.

    "I'll think about it." He would.

    "Yeah, right."

    "I'm serious." He was.

    "So just like that you're gonna move."

    "Yeah." Maybe not this year, but the next. Hell, he could even sell this place and use the profit to pay for the kitchen renovation. It was all sounding rather smart.

    Alistair found great entertainment in the completely exhausted why Micah looked around the room, licking his teeth, and clicking his tongue like Alistair had just declared his intentions of landing on the moon. "Okay then," he said, totally not convinced.

    "So now that you got your talk out of the way, I have to say something."

    Micah's eyes latched onto him, narrowed with suspicion.

    Alistair feigned feeling troubled, hand nursing his pinched brow. "Fuck. I didn't think I'd have to ask."

    Micah's eyes were wide.

    "No hard feelings. Obviously," Alistair said.

    Micah now appeared properly scared.

    "James said you have a reputation."

    Micah took the nearest pillow and whacked him with it. "I thought you were gonna say something bad, like I gave you something!"

    "What? No!"

    "Holy fuck. My heart." Micah massaged the heartburn with the heel of his fist, cursing again, "Motherfucker."

    "You seriously haven't slept with James?"

    "No. And I'm not planning on it," Micah said. He shook his head, relaxing a bit. "It'd just be weird. He's still off limits in my brain. And I think Benny would actually be pretty pissed if James and I... you know."

    "Would you date him?"

    There was hesitation in the admission. "No."

    "You hesitated."

    "Did not." Whatever look Alistair gave, Micah relented. "Fuck. This might be too kinky of me, and even though it went horribly the last time, I wouldn't... mind dating. I think."

    "Super kinky. You tell people at the club that?"

    Micah glared at him. "It's never gonna happen. Especially now."

    "Why 'especially'?"

    Alistair thought the weight and length of time Micah spent staring at him then meant something. His chest seized at the intent. Micah was contemplative, though, not pointed. He wasn't looking at Alistair like he was in desperate need of a marriage license with both their names on it.

    Micah licked his bottom lip between his teeth and glanced down. "Nothing."

    "No. Fuck that. What were you gonna say?"

    "It's fucking embarrassing. And you're not gonna believe me."

    "Fine. Goodnight." Alistair turned over, making a show to get really comfortable as Micah stuttered and stumbled to gain his attention again.

    "Fine, I'll tell you," Micah said. He covered his eyes. "I feel like I'm losing my libido. I haven't had sex in a while, and honestly? The times I've gotten horny lately are the times I think about you."

    "Which is always, is what you're saying."

    Micah laughed, hollowly, to the ceiling. "Fuck. you," he said, full of mirth.

    "How does that change the want to date."

    Micah put his hands out. "I can't date someone I don't even get horny about. So I'm kind of stuck right now."

    Alistair didn't expect to be propositioned to. He'd practically propositioned Micah months ago, and now Alistair couldn't remember the last time they'd had penetrative sex (February, going on five months). He knew, instinctively, part of their drought had to do with Alistair's confession, but he didn't see Micah pulling away, either.

    At least not in ways I or Kennedy are familiar with, he thought.

    "But I turn you on still," Alistair said, more out of reassurance than anything.

    Micah's eyes were weak and desperate. "It's a crime," he said, and on a whim, prowled closer. His hands bracketed Alistair's shoulders, breath fresh not with the edible spearmint but with toothpaste Alistair recognized. He'd found it and the fresh toothbrush pack in the drawer. "If we were at your place, I'd lock you up."

    Alistair hummed, low in his throat and feeling the vibrations down his spine. He was tingling all over as his legs shifted so his hand could unhook his boxers from his knees. "Still haven't used that."

    "No, we haven't. Tease."

    Micah's lips were softened by Alistair's touch. An initial peck opened to a slow and languid kiss made unsteady by Micah stumbling out of the fresh pair of boxers Alistair gave him. They fell together, a shiver tightening Alistair's legs around Micah's waist.

    Micah reached between them, chilled hand warming under the covers. He flattened his palm against Alistair's naval to heat his fingers. Alistair's breath shuddered out of him, lips dragging lightly against the minute space between their mouths. His abdomen still spasmed everywhere Micah's fingers grazed, trailing to his obliques, casting down to his hips. His thumbs pressed into the soft, tender skin above Alistair's thigh.

    "Are you prepped?" Micah asked, voice coarse and feathery against Alistair's tongue.

    "Yeah. Lube and condom's on the nightstand," he said, though the kissing didn't stop even as Micah stretched to grab them. Alistair's lips latched onto his neck, sucking their way down to his shoulder.

    Micah felt around between them, fumbling, sliding a condom onto his cock and lubing it up just to have it hang and glide along Alistair's thigh as his fingers tested Alistair's insides in slow, tantalizing ministrations.

    Alistair's hand found its way to the peach fuzz he'd been dreaming of, stippling the nape of Micah's neck. His fingers curled into a fist as he forced a slow breath from his lungs, muscles slackening at the sweltering intrusion of Micah's cock. The stretch was immediate, intoxicating, and Alistair's legs loosened their grip so his hips could open wider, knees falling to the sides where Micah's hand caught him and held him firm.

    "Is this okay?" Micah asked.

    Holy shit, Alistair thought, realizing he should have been practicing days before Micah arrived. His nerves were on the brink of an epiphany.

    "Alistair." His name was a sultry, shaky whisper in his ear, concerned despite the way his hips rolled into Alistair's in a constant, blissful pace.

    "Yes," he rasped, bracing an elbow beneath himself. It took monumental effort to unfurl his fist to cup the back of Micah's neck. Their faces were buried in each others shoulders, and Alistair didn't mind. He quite liked the humidity of Micah's shaky breath on his collarbone. "Slower."

    "Slower?"

    Micah complied, and the gentle ease of each extraction was almost worse—too much, too perfect friction against the nerves threatening to fray—than had he gone hard and fast all fucking night long.

    As they ground together, already trembling, Alistair pushed himself higher from the mattress. The hand on his thigh abandoned him, only to slide up along Alistair's spine to brace his lower back. Without the pressure keeping his leg fused to Micah's hip, Alistair latched on.

    It started with a simple, "I'm close." It could have been either of them, Alistair wasn't sure. They hadn't spoken above a whisper since they started, and Alistair didn't recognize his voice, let along the groan that breached when he squeezed onto Micah and let the orgasm wash over him.

    Micah's trusts picked up speed, harsher, more purposeful than the leisurely pace they'd set earlier. His breath heightened against Alistair's ear until Alistair silenced it with a heady kiss. The friction was building again, sharper and more poignant than before, and Alistair questioned whether or not he'd even come.

    Micah inhaled deep through his nose, their lips fused together. Parting was audible. "I—hah—" Micah stuttered against him, hips flush. Alistair wrestled against the urge to fall open again, muscles tingling as he tightened his grip to hold them close. All Micah could manage was a steady, circular grind. "I forgot how good you feel. Fuck."

    "Flattery gets you nowhere," Alistair teased, which just prompted Micah to look smug as they watched one another, shower water dripping from a strand of Micah's bangs.

    "I'd say it gets the job done, considering where my dick is," Micah said, and seized Alistair for a kiss again. His hands clutched either side of Alistair's neck and without support, Alistair eased back against the sheets once more.

    Body alight and glowing with ecstasy, Alistair succumbed to another orgasm—or perhaps his first?—as Micah came, lips parting against Alistair's with a breathy gasp of relief.

    They breathed together, panting, lips catching on one another. Micah's hands slid down from where he'd angled Alistair's face up to kiss. His thumbs kneaded into Alistair's trapezius muscles, hovering down from his pecs and to his waist. A moment later, he let himself slip out.

    And then, for a soundless second, they exhaled. Staring at each other.

    Alistair could see the whites in Micah's eyes, even in the dark. The last time Alistair had made love was as a teenager with no other concept of sex, before porn, believing sex was all about emotion and love and blah.

    There had to be something wrong here, but they'd both... came, so it couldn't have been bad. Alistair supposed he'd made the poor decision of asking Micah to go slow, and now his chest was on fire because of it with nothing to put it out except to say, "Sorry."

    Life resumed in Micah's quick breath, brow furrowed. "What?"

    "I don't know. An apology seemed appropriate."

    "That was—" Micah licked his lips, and Alistair watched his tongue with a hunger. "I mean, it wasn't terrible."

    "Right, but—"

    Micah sat back on his heels, blankets slipping off his shoulders. He passed a hand through his hair.

    "It was fine," Alistair said.

    "Maybe we're just out of practice," Micah decided, which sounded plausible to Alistair.

    "Yeah, that's probably it," he agreed.

    Satisfied, Micah climbed off the bed and left Alistair to tidy the sheets if he wanted. As he walked, he plucked off the condom, knotted it, and tossed it in the ensuite trash bin. He came back briefly with a warm, wet rag and tossed it to Alistair.

    "You wanna shower?" Micah asked.

    "This is fine," Alistair said.

    "You sure?"

    "Yeah. Fuck, don't—Just. Don't."

    Micah put his hands up in surrender, returning to the bathroom to clean up.

    Alistair scrubbed the tingly sensation from his thighs with a vengeance. When Micah returned, he'd efficiently sanded down all the texture pebbling his skin in memory of whatever the fuck that was.

    Standing at the foot of the bed, Micah fetched the spare boxers and stepped into them, saying, "I'll get out of your hair."

    "You're already here. Just spend the night," Alistair said, and felt acidic regret the moment the words left his mouth. It was courteous, sure, but the fluttery sensation took hold of his nervous system again the second Micah crawled under the covers again to join him.

    Like if Micah were to touch him, he'd flail. His stomach would drop like he was falling. And there'd be no one else to catch him but Micah.

    They turned their backs on one another, at first awkward, and then with relief as Alistair broke the silence. "Let's never talk about that again."

    A shaky, amused breath whooshed out of Micah, shuddering the mattress. "Agreed. Holy shit."

    The need to laugh registered, and Alistair was weak to succumb to it. He snorted, turning his face into the pillow to laugh. Micah started cackling, smothering his laugh in the pillow as he swatted a hand blindly behind him to hit Alistair.

    "It's not funny," Micah said, laughing anyway. "I'm embarrassed."

    Alistair wrangled himself back around to face Micah, who glared at him over his shoulder. Alistair reached out to squeeze Micah's sides, saying, "Embarrassed? You?"

    "I'm not immune," Micah said, pouting as Alistair wound himself around Micah's back. "And I'm not the little spoon."

    Alistair patted him on the chest. "You will be tonight."

    "Fuck off."

    "Goodnight."

    Micah tested the range of motion of his elbow into Alistair's gut, but it wasn't significant enough for Alistair to budge. He relented to his place in Alistair's arms for the night until morning.

    When they were awoken by a knock on the front door.

A/N: I hope everyone has a lovely holiday (Hanukkah!)