Page 58 of One-Time Shot

Malcolm had obviously been asleep. He shuffled into the living room, his hair was standing on end and lines from his pillowcase etched on his skin.

“I wasn’t sure what you had, so I brought the cold season starter pack.” I held up the paper bag in my hand.

He cocked his brow curiously. “I’m not sick. I’m just…tired and a little worn down. I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open while Professor Finkwell was commenting on a student’s inability to understand physics of productivity.”

“Sounds snoozy.”

“No, no, it’s actually fascinating. But…not today.”

He smiled and I smiled back. Neither of us said another word. We just stood there, looking goofy as fuck until Layla cleared her throat.

“Looks like this is a party for two. I’m going to the library for a couple of hours.” She retrieved her coat from the rack and grabbed her bag. “Be good, boys.”

I waited for her footsteps to recede. “She knows, huh?”

“Possibly? I’ve been having quite a few sleepovers lately and she’s inquired about my new paramour. I haven’t uttered a single word, but…”

“I showed up with soup and gave us away,” I finished, raking my fingers through my hair. “Shit.”

Malcolm set a comforting hand on my back. “Layla wouldn’t say a word. I promise.”

“Oh. I wasn’t thinking about me. I’m sorry if I made things weird with you and your best friend. I don’t know why I assumed you were sick. I should have called, but my day was shit and I really…I needed to see you.” I brushed my thumb across his bottom lip and kissed him. “I feel better already.”

He hummed. “I’m glad. Tell me everything.”

We sat side by side on the sofa, sharing soup while I spilled my news.

Malcolm sympathized but was glad my coach had insisted on rest. He cited scientific reasons the body needed downtime—repairing damaged muscle tissue, improving mental health, reducing inflammation…the list was long and nothing I didn’t already know. It sounded different coming from Malcolm, though.

He stated facts with a measure of calm, reassuring me that I was going to be okay. I was still on track. No worries.

Okay…not true. I had plenty to worry about, but he reminded me that I had options and that maybe time was working in my favor. I just had to relax and trust the process. The same stuff I told him when he was feeling blue.

It was strange to think that a few months ago, I didn’t know Malcolm at all. And now…I was glued at the hip to a genius who felt like my best friend.

A wave of gratitude overcame me. I didn’t take friendship lightly and I’d definitely never fucked a friend, so to infer this was new was an understatement. I felt lucky to know Malcolm, lucky to be someone he’d want in his life.

I reached out to push a stray strand of hair behind his ear. “Thank you.”

“For what?” He shot a puzzled glance at me, setting the empty soup container on the coffee table.

“Listening to me whine, being wise and cool. Sometimes I think I should give up, but?—”

“Don’t,” he intercepted. “Don’t give up. Keep going, keep trying. Scientifically speaking, forward momentum creates energy, energy drives movement and progress.”

“Is this another one of those ‘if you put your foot in water, it’ll get wet’ examples?” I teased.

“Yes, and it’s that simple. You might not get exactly what you want, but if you stop, you get nothing.” Malcolm gave a self-deprecating shrug.

I cupped his chin and pressed my lips to his temple, his cheek, and the corner of his mouth. “And that’s science?”

“Y-yes.” He closed his eyes and leaned into me. “Science.”

Malcolm sucked my tongue, grinding and swaying as he rubbed the heel of his palm against my denim-covered erection. He unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned my jeans, then stopped—his fingers hovered on the zipper as if awaiting my permission.Fucking tease.

I didn’t beg, but it was a close call. I moaned aloud when he finally pulled my dick out and stroked me a few times before lowering his head. I closed my eyes as Malcolm took over, licking me like a popsicle. He was so good, so good, so?—

A noise from the hallway jolted us apart. It wasn’t Layla, but she’d be home soon and this wasn’t smart.