Page 37 of Stag

“Fuck. I should probably learn how to sign that. I’m gonna say it a lot. I was just saying it’s where I belong.” His cheeks were red again.

“Why? I don’t want you down there. We can share.”

He shook his head, but I could see the longing in his eyes.

“Please. I’m in an unfamiliar place, and I can’t hear if there’s danger. I need you close.” It was manipulation, pure and simple. I could cope, of course I could, I had to all the time. It wasn’t that kind of need. It was want, and a desperation for comfort, for feeling someone beside me, who was close enough to touch, close enough to press together on this small bed. I wanted that so much.

“Please, Stag.”

He sagged a little, his shoulders slumping as he set the sleeping bag down and lifted the covers, eyeing the small space he’d have to inhabit. He was a big guy, so I could see the doubt in his eyes that we’d fit at all.

“I can always sleep on you,” I joked, my smile dropping the instant he shot horrified eyes in my direction. That was a mixed signal if I’d ever had one.

“Or not.”

He shook his head, resting a knee on the bed and taking such a large breath I could see his chest rising as his lungs filled.

“You do that, and I’ll get a boner, for sure. It’s for your comfort, not mine.”

Oh. He blushed again and I wanted to hold him, because he was surprisingly shy in this moment where most men would be trying to push for more than I wanted to give.

“It’s okay if you touch me,” I said as he tried to slide into the bed without even brushing against me. He moved away from me a touch and the whole bed jerked as he almost tipped out of it. Despite everything I started to giggle, and when he regained his balance, he rolled onto his side facing me. His lips were turned up in a smile.

“It’s funny to you that I nearly landed on my head?”

I shrugged the shoulder I wasn’t currently lying on.

“I mean, at least it wasn’t the other head, right?”

His grin grew wider, and he rubbed his face against the pillow, finding a better angle for his comfort.

“You’re way cooler than most women. Do you even know that?”

I sighed, suddenly wanting to go against everything I’d said about taking things slow.

“We should get some sleep.”

His smile faded and he nodded.

“Wake me if you need the toilet or something. I’ll go with you.”

I appreciated that more than he could ever know. For now though…

“Any chance of a goodnight kiss?”

His eyes widened and he slipped his hand from under the covers, resting it on my shoulder, the heat leaching into my skin like an added layer of comfort and protection.

“Really?”

I smiled, wriggling a little closer to him, knocking my knee against his lightly.

“Please.”

He leaned closer, his hand moving up to cup my cheek as his lips touched mine. It was a soft, sweet, chaste kind of kiss. The kind of kiss you’d get from a teenage boy. So much about him was youthful and vulnerable, and so different from the outward persona he showed others. Everyone but me, it seemed.

I teased his lips with my tongue, the minty toothpaste I’d rubbed over my teeth with my finger met by a similarly minty tongue as he suddenly deepened the kiss and gave me what I wanted. A toe-curler of a kiss. A panty-melter. A swoony kiss that made me want to throw all of my inhibitions aside, and climb on top of him.

All too soon it was over, and he was pulling back, his eyes smiling softly as his lips joined them.