Page 154 of Should the Sky Fall

Cal shivers, his nipples pebbling under Dawson’s touch. Dawson bites back a smile, drunk on the knowledge that he’s the one doing this to Cal, the one affecting him like that.

He sobers up a bit when he gets a full view of the healing scar running down Cal’s abdomen. He’s seen it countless times, but for some reason the sight of it now makes his chest ache.

He almost lost Cal that day. It feels like a lifetime ago, despite it being just a couple of months. It’s crazy to think about how much has changed since then.

“I’m sorry,” Cal says, lowering his chin. “I know it’s not pretty.”

It occurs to Dawson he must be staring. Instead of saying anything, he shuffles backwards, squeezing himself into the space between Cal’s legs and lying down on his front, so he can kiss the scar.

Cal gasps, his abs contracting. Dawson places a few more kisses along the scar, then looks up, finding Cal watching him with a stunned expression.

“I don’t care about your scars, Cal. They’re not a bad thing. They’re a reminder.”

“Reminder? Of what?”

Rising up, Dawson braces himself on Cal’s shoulders and kisses him, sighing happily when Cal instantly opens up for him.

“That we got a second chance.”

“A second chance,” Cal repeats, as if trying how the words taste. “A clean slate.”

Dawson smiles. “Yeah, Cal.” He runs his hand through Cal’s hair. “A clean slate.”

For a short, blissful moment, Cal returns the smile, then it’s gone. “I don’t deserve a second chance, Dawson.”

“Yes, you do.”

Cal winces. “But I—”

“No,” Dawson says, grabbing a fistful of Cal’s hair and tugging gently so Cal has no choice but to look at him. “You do deserve it, Cal. And you know what? I don’t care if you believe it or not. Because even if you didn’t deserve it, I do. I deserve to be happy.” Wow, Ash would be so proud of him. “Right?”

“Yes,” Cal says quickly. “Always, Dawson.”

“Then that’s it. I deserve to be happy. You make me happy. If you want me to be happy, you need to stay. It’s that simple. Okay?”

Cal’s whole body sags, knowing he lost. Dawson would feel bad about running him into a corner like this if he wasn’t so freaking relieved.

“Okay.”

The dejected way he says it has doubts creeping into Dawson’s mind. “But I want you to be happy too, Cal. And if this isn’t what you want, if…” It hurts to think about it. “IfI’mnot what you want—”

Cal’s lips are on his in an instant, warm and forceful as they forbid him to say another word. “Everything,” Cal mumbles, winding his arms around Dawson’s waist. “You’reeverythingI ever wanted.”

Dawson laughs, giddy with happiness. The emotional overload is enough to bring fresh tears to his eyes, but he stubbornly blinks them back. He doesn’t want to cry now. He doesn’t even want to talk. He just wantsCal.

He drags his hands down Cal’s chest and stomach, drunk on the way Cal reacts to him, the way he shivers under the lightest touch and how he stops breathing when Dawson’s fingers graze the skin just above his waistband. He holds impossibly still when Dawson starts undoing his jeans, the sound of the zipper opening unnaturally loud in the quiet. Then Dawson’s knuckles graze the length of Cal’s cock, and Cal lets out a sound that seems to come from the deepest part of his chest.

“Dawson…” It’s spoken like a plea, one that Dawson desperately wants to answer.

His initial plan to take things slow, not just for Cal’s benefit but for his own too, flies out the window. He shuffles backwards and hooks his fingers into Cal’s jeans.

“Lift.”

Cal looks at Dawson, at his hands, eyes unfocused like he’s coming out of a haze. He digs his palms and heels into the mattress and lifts his hips. It’s only an inch or so, but it’s enough for Dawson to drag Cal’s jeans over his hips, then work them off all the way, leaving him in his underwear.

There’s something heady about seeing Cal like this, spread out and letting Dawson do as he pleases. Roaming his eyes all over Cal—from his dark, lust-filled eyes and heaving chest, to his sheet-gripping hands and hard cock—sets Dawson’s insides on fire.

“Don’t move,” Dawson orders as he slips out of the bed. He keeps his eyes fixed on Cal as he slides his fingers behind the waistband of his joggers and starts pulling them down. Self-consciousness rears its head—Dawson didn’t bother putting on his underwear after the shower—but it doesn’t last long. He can feel Cal’s gaze like a physical caress, touching every inch of skin, and suddenly he needs to feel it for real.