Normally, Oliver slept in Corey’s room on nights when he didn’t want to drive home, but two more of his buddies were too drunk to drive, so he’d been moved to a sleeping bag in Amos’s room. Oliver preferred sleeping in Amos’s room anyway. Corey snored like he was sawing logs with a chain saw. Amos snored too, but not nearly as much.

Still feeling a bit tipsy, Oliver sat on Amos’s bed as the guy pulled out a pair of flannel pajama bottoms for him to borrow. Since Oliver had come right from the restaurant, he hadn’t brought his stuff with him. Thankfully, the three of them were all pretty much trim, muscular guys, so it really wasn’t a problem. Amos tossed him the flannel bottoms and pulled out clothes for himself.

“I’m going to the bathroom to change.” Amos held a grey t-shirt and a pair of black sweatpants.

As Amos headed for the door, Oliver stood up but wobbled. He held out his hands to steady himself, but in the end it didn’t matter. Amos was by his side, steadying him with his warm, big hands. Looking up, Oliver found himself swallowing and wondering why it always felt like Amos knew what he was doing. Even if he wasn’t looking in his face, he had his eye on him.

Oliver waited for Amos to let him go, but it didn’t happen. Instead Amos surprised him. He dragged his eyes up from his shoes and met Oliver’s gaze. Suddenly, Oliver felt as though he’d drunk a ton of fizzy colas and the carbonation was making his stomach go crazy. The silence was filled by the sound of his own heart, pounding hard against his chest in a beat all its own.

With shaking hands, Amos leaned forward and captured his mouth. Lips joined with lips. Amos kissed him sloppily but with more passion than anyone else had ever kissed him before. Amos’s hands wrapped around his back, pulling him close while steadying him at the same time. For a moment Oliver was reminded of that day all those years ago with the wasps, except this was different. This was… His eyes flew open.

This was wrong.

“Stop.” Oliver shoved him away.

The two of them were locked in a battle of eyes. Amos’s cheeks and lips were red after their embrace, and his chest rose and fell as he panted. His lips remained parted, and Oliver wondered whether the taste of chocolate was just his taste. Oliver wanted to know what it felt like to have his tongue in Amos’s mouth and hated himself for even thinking about it.

Amos regained his composure and held up his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Shocked, Oliver ran a hand through his hair. “What is this? Why did you…”

It took Amos several seconds for him to respond. In the end, his back stiffened and he ground his teeth as if Oliver was pulling out organs and not words. “I’m in love with you. I have been since we were kids.”