Page 195 of Should the Sky Fall

“You did it.”

“Yeah, because you were being annoying.”

“Hmm.” Cal floats towards him, treading water as he grabs Dawson by the waist. “How much can I get away with by being annoying?”

Dawson squints. “Do not try to find out.”

Cal’s grin turns feral, and he grasps the back of Dawson’s thighs, hoisting him up until Dawson has no choice but wrap his legs around Cal’s waist unless he wants to get his nose full of water.

“Whoa!” He gives Cal a stern look. “You shouldn’t really—”

“Relax. I can’t get hurt. You barely weigh anything in the water.” He covers Dawson’s mouth with his before Dawson can protest. “I’ve always wanted to do this.”

“You and your movie obsession,” Dawson chides, trying not to smile like a dork.

“Are you complaining?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Maybe I could help you make up your mind,” Cal says huskily, kissing Dawson again. He cups Dawson’s ass and rocks their hips together, drawing an unmanly squeak out of him.

Dawson is already half-hard, the light friction and Cal’s touch all he needs to feel blood rushing to his cock. Jesus. It’s only been two weeks since they touched like this, but his body is reacting as if Dawson has been depriving it for years.

He might’ve been depriving it for the past week, though. Whenever he and Cal had gone to sleep, all wrapped around each other, Dawson wanted more, craved it on the basest level. The timing hasn’t been right, though, so he’s refrained from pursuing anything. Cal must’ve sensed his reluctance because he never gave an indication of taking things further, giving Dawson all the time he needed.

Fuck, Dawson loves him so much.

And he wants him. Now.

“Okay, okay, we need to slow down,” he gasps out when Cal grinds their erections together, his fingers shy of slipping between Dawson’s cheeks. “Public space.”

Cal makes a noise of complaint but listens. “How about you go downstairs and wait for me? I’ll get a few more laps in, then join you.”

A few more laps? Is he for real?

On the other hand, maybe that’s a good idea. It will give Dawson time to calm down at least.

“Yeah, okay. See you in a bit?”

Cal gives him a long, sweet kiss that has his toes curling. “Yes.”

Dawson’s dripping when he climbs out, his dick creating a big enough tent that five people could camp under it. Great. Now he can only hope he’s not gonna run into anyone in the lift.

Using Cal’s towel, he quickly dries off just so his clothes don’t get completely soaked when he puts them on. He looks over his shoulder, but Cal is already doing another lap. Unbelievable.

Dawson hurries downstairs. The cosmos must be warming up to him because he doesn’t bump into anyone. He ignores Donut’s judgmental look when he sees the state of him.

“Stop it. I’m just a man. I have needs.”

Donut snorts and walks away. Rude.

Dawson peels off his wet clothes and heads to the bathroom. He never liked the smell of chlorine, always reminding him of toilet cleaner.

He makes quick work of showering, not wanting to risk Cal walking in before he’s done. He scrubs himself clean, using the grapefruit shower gel he knows Cal loves. It’s probably overkill, but he brushes his teeth as well even though it’s only three o’clock.

He negotiates putting on a pair of joggers, but upon realizing they’d end up on the floor within minutes anyway, he sticks with a towel around his waist. Checking himself in the mirror, he lets out an embarrassed laugh. His face is flushed, his pupils so blown they nearly overtake his whole irises.

He looks debauched, and they haven’t even done anything yet.