In Jason’s room, under sloping wood-beam ceiling approval, Colby kicked off his own boots and put both arms around Jason’s neck. He’d worn the grey pants today, still no color there, but fewer layers, only three: black jacket, stretchy semi-transparent blue shirt, pink T-shirt with sequins on the edges of the sleeves. “So. We’ve done that.”
“We have.” He coaxed the hair tie out of brown waves; they fell over his hand at the nape of Colby’s neck. He wanted to touch the sequins, and the colors, and Colby’s skin. “Feeling up to celebrating?”
“Indeed. What did you have in mind?”
“You in my bed? And room service after.”
“I like those things.”
“You like stiff things, as I recall.”
Colby widened eyes at him. Set a hand over the bulge in Jason’s jeans. “Whatever would give you that impressio
