Page 137 of Should the Sky Fall

“You’re still healing.”

Cal strokes a hand through Dawson’s hair. “Are you sure you’re okay?” If something happened to him…

“Positive.” He smiles. “Your dick is safe, by the way.”

Scowling, Cal lets him go and takes his awful painting. “I don’t think we’ll be coming back.”

Dawson snorts. “Quitter.”

“This is mortifying,” Cal complains, his face on fire when they finish hanging up their paintings. Even without the teasing, his painting looks horrible compared to Dawson’s. And now they’ll be next to each other.

“I like it. It has—”

“Don’t say dick.”

“—character.” Dawson is having way too much fun on Cal’s account.

Cal pretends to sulk, but when Dawson steps in front of him and circles his arms around Cal’s waist, he all but melts.

“I really enjoyed it today,” Dawson says in a soft voice. “I was scared, at first. But it was good. Really good.”

“You’re just trying to make me go back,” Cal grumbles. But for Dawson? He’d go back in a heartbeat, dick or no dick.

Dawson giggles. “I’ll pick a better painting next time. Something not too phallic looking.”

Cal smacks his lips, pretending to think it over. “I’ll consider it.”

Dawson hums, then rises as Cal bends down. They meet in a kiss that’s heartrendingly sweet. Except it doesn’t stay so. It turns heated, a little frantic, and Dawson is making all these desperate little noises that threaten to eviscerate Cal’s self-control.

With a single step forward, he crowds Dawson against the wall, tilting his chin up so he can deepen the kiss. Dawson lets out a moan like it’s coming from deep within his soul. The sound etches itself to Cal’s brain like a branding, annihilating every thought that doesn’t belong to Dawson.

He presses himself against Dawson until there’s not a hair’s breadth of space between them, until he can feel him everywhere, taste him deep in his mouth and—

A low, growling noise makes them pull away. They’re both breathless as they look down to see Donut glaring at them with betrayal.

“Yes?” Dawson asks, catching his breath. “May we help you?” Donut just wags his tail and continues growling. “Attention whore,” he mutters affectionately, then looks at Cal. Dawson’s face is flushed, his eyes glazed over, and he keeps licking his lips, which are red and swollen from Cal’s kisses and scruff.

“You hungry?”

Starving.

“I could eat,” he says diplomatically. He couldn’t care less about food right now, but Dawson might be hungry. “Something light?” The snacks were quite filling.

“Caprese salad?”

“Perfect.”

While Dawson prepares the salad, Cal uses the time to check in with his body. He’s never reacted like that before. Sure, they haven’t kissed that many times, but when they did, it was amazing. Made Cal tingle all over. But he never felt like he was about to lose control and do…

He doesn’t know what would have happened if Donut hadn’t interrupted.

Cal manages to sneak him a piece or two of mozzarella when Dawson isn’t looking. So what if he’s using food as bribery to make Donut hate him less? He’s desperate, okay?

Dawson’s phone pings with a message when they sit down at the table. A small frown appears between his brows as he reads it, and his eyes flick up to Cal.

“Something wrong?”

“No.” He bites his lip. “Kieran’s asking if I want to go to the movies on Saturday.”