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Summary
Nick crossed the room, cheeks pink and still flushed from the heat of competition, and planted himself on a footrest in front of Charlie with the smugness of a man who knew exactly how good he looked.
“I’m a winner,” he said. “I think I deserve a prize.”
Charlie looked up at him through his lashes, biting the rim of his cup to hide a smile. “Do you now?”
Nick shrugged, eyes dropping briefly to Charlie’s mouth. “I worked hard.”
Charlie set his drink down with exaggerated care and leaned back, legs still crossed, gaze playful and dangerous. “I might let you sink one more shot later.”
Tao groaned immediately. “Absolutely not. Keep your filthy metaphors at least two metres from my person.”
Or
The first time Nick and Charlie hookup properly in Tara’s bathroom.
