"You don't look sick," Landen said. A pause. "You okay?"
Adriel swallowed. His throat made a sound, dry and audible in the quiet. He glanced away, anywhere but those eyes.
"Yeah," he managed. "I am much better… Must have ate something funny."
The words came out mumbled.Stupid. He heard them the moment they left his mouth and wanted to pull them back, stuff them back down where they came from.
And now Landen was picturing it. Had to be. Adriel, leaned over the toilet, sick, disgusting, everything unappealing about him made worse by the image his own words had painted.
His cheeks heated. He could feel the burn of it spreading, knew he was turning pink, knew there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Landen said nothing for a moment.
Adriel stared at the floor. At the crack in the linoleum by the door. At his own bare feet. At anything but the man standing in his living room.
Then footsteps.
He glanced up without meaning to.
Landen was very close now. Close enough that Adriel could feel the warmth of him again. Close enough that his body remembered, immediately,traitorously, what it had felt like to be this close before.
"Bullshit," Landen said. "How about you tell me the truth, Adriel?"
Adriel's hands were shaking. He could feel them, could feel the tremor running through his fingers, could do nothing to stop it. He shook his head. Looked away again.
"I… just…" His throat was dry. He swallowed, tried again. "Why?"
"Why what?" Landen's voice was low. Close.
So close.
Adriel shivered. He couldn't help it. Couldn't hide it. The sound of that voice, the proximity of that body, the memory of what had happened the last time they were this near; it all crashed into him at once.
"Why did you do it?" he asked. The words came out smaller than he wanted. Thinner. Like a child’s. "Why did you kiss me?"
He stopped. Cut himself off before he could say more. Before he could blurt out the thing that was sitting in his chest, heavy and hot and shameful.
Was it to make fun of me?
Was it a joke?
He didn't say any of it. Couldn't. The shame was already enough, burning in his cheeks, tightening his throat, making his eyes sting with tears he refused to let fall.
Then Landen's fingers were on his chin. Light. Barely there. But firm enough to guide, to urge, to turn his face back toward him.
Adriel's breath caught.
"Because I wanted to," Landen said. His voice was low like a whisper.
Adriel blinked and a small frown appeared between his brows.
"Why?" he blurted out.
Landen was quiet for a while.
He looked at Adriel for a long moment. So intently, so carefully, like he was trying to read his mind. Like he was searching for something.
Then something flickered in his eyes.