Page 8

Chapter eight

Sawyer

Sawyer followed Clayton upstairs to the bedroom, his heart pounding. He stood in the doorway of Clayton’s room, his fingers gripping the frame as if it were the only thing keeping him grounded. He wanted to step inside, to be close to Clayton, to share this moment—this first—with him. But fear held him back. He had always slept alone. The idea of sharing a bed, of being that vulnerable with someone, was both thrilling and terrifying.

Clayton sat on the edge of the bed, his shirt slightly rumpled, his expression soft and inviting. He looked at Sawyer with kind eyes, his voice gentle as he spoke. “You can come in,” he said. “It’s okay.”

Sawyer hesitated; his throat tight. “I…I don’t know,” he stammered. “I’ve never…I mean, I’ve always slept alone. What if I…I don’t know how to do this.”

Clayton smiled, a small, reassuring curve to his lips. “There’s no ‘how,’ Sawyer,” he said. “It’s just us. You don’t have to do anything. Just…be here. With me?”

Sawyer’s chest tightened. Just be here. With him. It sounded so simple, but it felt like the biggest step he’d ever taken. His voice was barely above a whisper. “What if I mess it up?”

Clayton stood and crossed the room, stopping just in front of Sawyer. He was close now, close enough that Sawyer could see the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. “You won’t,” Clayton said. “There’s no right or wrong way to do this. It’s just about being together. That’s all.”

Sawyer looked down, his cheeks burning. “I just…I don’t want to disappoint you.”

Clayton reached out, his hand brushing Sawyer’s arm. The touch was light, but it sent a shiver through him. “You could never disappoint me,” Clayton said. “You’re here. That’s all that matters.”

Sawyer’s breath hitched. He wanted to believe him, wanted to let go of the fear that was holding him back. He looked up, meeting Clayton’s gaze. “I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice trembling.

Clayton’s expression softened. “I know,” he said. “But you don’t have to be. I’ve got you.”

Those words “I’ve got you” unlocked something inside Sawyer. He took a deep breath, his heart still racing, but he stepped forward. Just one step, but it was enough. Clayton’s arms opened, and Sawyer let himself fall into them.

It was a long, solid hug, filled with unspoken comfort and safety. Clayton’s arms wrapped around him, pulling him close in a loving embrace, and Sawyer felt the tension melt away. Overwhelmed with emotion, he buried his face in Clayton’s shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“See?” Clayton murmured, his voice low and soothing. “You’re doing just fine.”

Sawyer clung to him, his fingers gripping the fabric of Clayton’s shirt. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For…for being patient with me.”

Clayton’s hand rubbed slow circles on Sawyer’s back. “You’re worth it,” he said. “You’re worth every second.”

Sawyer felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes, but he didn’t let them fall. Instead, he held on tighter, letting himself feel the closeness, the connection he’d been craving for so long. For the first time, he felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

And for the first time, he wasn’t alone.

“You can get undressed in the bathroom if you want or don’t undress.”

“I don’t want to sleep in my clothes.” His face paled. “Should I take everything off or leave my underwear on?”

“Whatever you want. I usually sleep without clothes. If that’s too much, I’ll put a pair of pajamas on. I’ll give you a pair of mine.”

“Would you wear pajamas too? I mean, really would you?”

Clayton walked to the dresser and opened a drawer with pajamas. He pulled out two pairs, one for each of them. He handed Sawyer one set.

“Change in the bathroom. I’ll change here. It’s not a problem. At some point, you may want them off. We can talk about that too. You said you were ready. Well, you are. You’ve taken the first step. There’s no rush here.”

“I’m sorry I’m so inexperienced. All of us boys had our own rooms, and we weren’t allowed in each other’s rooms. I never stood naked with anyone present.” Sawyer’s gaze dropped to the ground, avoiding Clayton’s eyes as he spoke, a blush creeping up his neck.

“I’m happy I might be the first one to see you when you’re ready.”

“I want you to be the first one. Can I take a shower first?”

“Sure. I’ll take one in the hallway bathroom.”

“Oh no. I’ll take the one in the hallway. Please.”

Clayton gestured for Sawyer to head to the hallway bathroom, a casual flick of his hand that sent a nervous jolt through Sawyer’s chest. He nodded quickly, perhaps too quickly, and hurried out of the bedroom. The faint scent of lavender from a nearby candle lingered in the air. He rifled through the backpack in the guest room, grabbing a pair of clean underwear—simple gray briefs that felt like a small anchor of normalcy amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him. Then, with the briefs clutched in his hand, he headed for the bathroom, his steps quickening with a mix of anticipation and anxiety.

The soft sage green of the hallway bathroom walls created a calming and welcoming ambiance. The mirror above the sink, though framed with a touch of vintage charm, had a timeless quality. The shower curtain, with its delicate green stripes, complemented the walls perfectly. The air carried a subtle freshness, a hint of pine from a nearby sachet, making the space feel serene—perfect for Sawyer seeking a moment of comfort and tranquility.

He stripped off his clothes, letting them fall into a haphazard pile on the tiles—his worn T-shirt, jeans, and socks crumpling together in a mess that mirrored his tangled thoughts. Standing naked, he turned to face the mirror, his breath catching as he studied his reflection. His lean frame, the freckles dusting his face and shoulders, the sharp angle of his collarbone—he wondered how Clayton might see him if he ever stood before him like this, vulnerable. The thought sent a wave of heat to his face, a blush blooming on his cheeks as desire battled fear, a certain tension in the air. He might have planted a seed of doubt in Clayton’s mind when he told him he hadn’t been with another man. What if Clayton changed his mind? What if Sawyer wasn’t enough, or was too much, or simply not what Clayton had imagined? He ran a hand through his ginger hair, pushing it back from his forehead, and forced himself to take a deep breath. He couldn’t let those thoughts spiral—not now. He’d dreamed about sleeping with another man for years. Finally, the time had come, and a cold sweat slicked his palms as he faced the unknown. The fear didn’t stem from Clayton because the desire to be near Clayton was a constant, burning need.

Sawyer stepped into the shower, pulling the curtain closed with a soft scrape of metal rings. The water came on with a sputter, then a steady stream, and he let it run hot, the steam rising around him as he stood under the spray. The heat seeped into his muscles, loosening the tension in his shoulders, and he closed his eyes, letting the water wash away the day’s uncertainties. He stayed there longer than he needed to, the sound of the water a steady rhythm that calmed his racing thoughts. When he finally stepped out, he grabbed a faded green towel from the rack. It felt slightly rough against his skin as he dried off, the mirror now completely fogged over from the steam.

Sawyer glanced at the oversized pajamas he’d brought, clearly made for someone broader and taller—Clayton. The navy flannel, speckled with tiny white stars, was soft and worn, its frayed sleeves swallowing his wrists, its hem brushing his thighs. The matching pants, loose and baggy, were held precariously by a tightly tied drawstring. Dressed like a kid playing dress-up, he felt both silly and comforted. The faint scent of Clayton’s cologne —cedar and a whisper of spice—clung to the fabric, stirring an ache in Sawyer’s chest.

Rushing back to the bedroom, the pajamas swished softly with every step against his freshly showered skin. Approaching the door, his heart stuttered—a nervous flutter rising again.

He hoped Clayton wouldn’t laugh at how he looked—or worse, reconsider everything. But as he stepped inside, Sawyer clung to the fragile hope that Clayton might see him and still want him, even in these too-big pajamas.

Clayton pulled the soft blanket down and gestured for him to come to bed. Once Sawyer slipped under the blanket, his body flamed in every direction. Clayton took him into his arms.

“I’m so happy you’re here with me. Let’s get some sleep. We have an early start tomorrow.” He leaned towards Sawyer, their breaths mingling, and gently pressed their lips together.