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Kevin's back hit the door with a soft thud.
The sound seemed strangely loud in the small room, and for a moment, neither of them moved.
The door was cool against his back. The old wood pressed between his shoulder blades. Somewhere outside, someone laughed in the hallway, followed by the squeak of sneakers against the linoleum and the muffled slam of another dorm door. The impact had sent a faint vibration through the frame, and for a split second he wondered if anyone out in the hallway had heard it.
Then Buddy's presence filled every inch of the remaining space between them, and the thought dissolved.
"This has to stay discreet, you understand, Kev?" Buddy looked down at him, pupils blown wide, his voice pitched low and rough in a way Kevin had never heard him use in the classroom, or the dining hall, or anywhere other people might overhear it. "I have to protect my reputation, after all."
Kevin nodded.
He didn't trust his voice. His heartbeat had started thundering the second Buddy backed him against the door of his own dorm room, and it showed no sign of slowing. Kevin could feel each beat in his throat, in his wrists, in the tips of his fingers where they hovered uselessly at his sides.
This is happening. This is actually happening.
He'd imagined it - God, he'd imagined it more times than he wanted to admit, since the very day they'd met - but the reality of Buddy's steady hand on his chest, the heat of him standing this close, it all made every previous fantasy feel thin and childish.
The words my reputation registered, and he recognized them as distinctly not ours. Just Buddy's. But Kevin swallowed and nodded again anyway, harder this time, like agreement could erase the imbalance between them.
"Good." Buddy's grin flashed, sharp and pleased, before his hand came up to cup Kevin's chin. The gesture was almost unbearably intimate. His thumb pressed lightly against Kevin's lower lip. "Knew you'd get it."
Then he kissed him.
Buddy kissed like he did everything else - confident and certain, taking what he wanted. Kevin made a small, helpless sound, his hands flying up to clutch at Buddy's chest. The fabric of his shirt was expensive beneath Kevin's fingers, a fine cotton weave that didn't wrinkle the way Kevin's clothes did. Kevin became absurdly aware of that fact, even now. He could feel the buttons beneath his palms, the warmth of Buddy through the material, the faint smell of whatever cologne he had put on before coming over.
Kevin's fingers curled more tightly into the fabric. He had never been kissed like this before. Not by anyone.
The thought flickered through him and then burned away under the heat of Buddy's mouth. Kevin had wanted this since the first day in Wasserstein, since Buddy, Buddy Crane, since a hand extended over a study table that had felt almost too warm, since a grin that promised an ease Kevin had never once managed to locate in himself no matter how many times he rehearsed it in a mirror.
Buddy crowded closer, one thigh sliding between Kevin's, pinning him more firmly against the heavy wooden door. Kevin's hands tightened without his permission.
The kiss deepened, and all that remained was heat they were sharing and the solid weight of Buddy's body against his and the quiet, desperate hope that this meant something more than it probably did. He could feel the hard line of Buddy's hip, the controlled strength in the way he held himself. Kevin's own body answered without permission, a flush of want that made his pulse race faster, a wave of heat rushing over his face and across the back of his neck.
Buddy's hand slid from Kevin's chin to the side of his throat, thumb settling directly over his pulse point, like he wanted proof of what he was doing to him. Kevin's knees buckled a fraction, just enough that Buddy's thigh took some of his weight without either of them acknowledging it. Kevin had never been held like this - never been handled like this - and the difference between just imagining it and actually living it was making his breath stutter.
When Buddy finally pulled back, Kevin was breathing hard. He kept his hands on Buddy's chest, not quite ready to let go.
Neither of them spoke for a moment. Kevin stared at him, and Buddy looked back, completely composed. Which, of course he did. His hair was still perfectly in place. His shirt was only slightly rumpled beneath Kevin's hands. His breathing had already begun to settle. Kevin, meanwhile, felt as though he had just run a marathon and then been dropped from a great height.
Buddy's smile had gone lazy, his expression satisfied. He brushed his thumb once more across Kevin's mouth, then tilted his head, studying him.
"First time?" he asked, voice low, almost amused.
Kevin managed a tiny, jerky nod, and felt his face go hot at the confirmation, at how easily Buddy had read it off him. There was no hiding anything from him - in court or outside of it.
Buddy's grin widened. "Cute."
He glanced past Kevin toward the narrow bed, then the small couch under the window. For a second - just one - Kevin thought Buddy might stay. That they might talk, or sit close, or at least let the moment stretch a little longer. That surely this was the beginning of something.
Kevin's body still felt electric, every nerve tuned to the man in front of him. He could still taste Buddy on his lips, still feel the ghost of that thigh pinning him in place. He wanted, suddenly and fiercely, for Buddy to push him toward the bed instead of the door. To stay. To choose him for longer than a stolen handful of minutes.
Instead, Buddy checked his watch. The motion was casual. Almost bored. Like a businessman checking the time after a scheduled meeting wrapped up. The gold face caught the lamplight, a small, bright reminder of the world Buddy belonged to - the one of family money and old connections and expectations Kevin could only observe from the outside.
"Shit. I'm late." He straightened his shirt where Kevin's hands had wrinkled it, smoothing the fabric with quick, practiced motions, erasing the evidence of what they'd shared. He then leaned in one more time to press a quick, almost dismissive kiss to the corner of Kevin's mouth as he reached past him towards the door. "I've got people waiting for me at the rec. Don't wait up, yeah?"
Kevin's stomach dropped, but he kept his face carefully blank as he stepped out of the way. "Okay." His voice came out steady. He was almost proud of that, in a small, bitter way. "Yeah. Yeah, go."
Buddy was already reaching for the door handle, the one Kevin's spine had been pressed against only minutes before. He paused just long enough to shoot Kevin another grin - bright and easy, already halfway gone.
"Remember what I said, Kev." The bolo tie around his collar caught the hallway light as he turned, his hands reaching up to adjust it the same way he always did in moot court. "Discreet."
Then he was gone. The door clicked shut behind him. His footsteps faded down the hall.
Kevin stayed where he was for a long moment. The room felt bigger without Buddy in it. Quieter. He lifted a hand and touched his own mouth, then let it fall.
The feeling of the kiss was still there - warm, yet already fading. Kevin's pulse still jumped under the place where Buddy's thumb had rested. He could still feel the solid weight of that thigh between his own, the way Buddy had pinned him up against that door like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Like he'd been dreaming about it too.
Kevin had agreed to his terms. Of course he had. He would have agreed to almost anything if it meant Buddy kept looking at him the way he had two minutes ago - kept kissing him like that, kept, even briefly, choosing him over every other name in his contact list.
The knowledge sat heavy in his chest, equal parts shame and something sharper, hungrier.
Kevin moved to sit on the edge of his bed. The sheets were still neat. Untouched. He stared at the empty space beside him and told himself it was fine. Buddy was busy. Buddy had a reputation to protect. Buddy had friends waiting.
The room smelled like Buddy's expensive cologne and the cheap laundry detergent Kevin used. The unfit combination made his throat tight.
It wasn't like they were anything official, anyway. It had just been a kiss.
Just a kiss.
And nothing more.
Kevin pressed the heel of his hand against his chest, right over the place that still ached a little, and made the same promise again, quietly, to the empty room.
He would be discreet.
He would take whatever Buddy was willing to give, and he would be grateful for it. Because Buddy could have kissed anyone. He could have gone anywhere. He could have spent the evening with any number of people who actually knew what they were doing, people who belonged beside him in the bright rooms and crowded parties and photographs Kevin had only ever imagined himself standing in.
But he'd come here - he'd come to Kevin.
Surely that had to mean something?