Chapter 3: Wine & What follows

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Keaton stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his shirt for what felt like the hundredth time

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Keaton stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his shirt for what felt like the hundredth time. He wasn't nervous, at least that's what he kept telling himself, but the slight tremor in his hands said otherwise. Hosting a hookup wasn't something he typically did, but with his parents out of town and the house to himself, the timing felt right.

He glanced over at the setup—a bottle of wine chilling in a bucket on the table, soft music playing in the background, and candles casting a warm glow across the room. It was more intimate than he'd intended, but now that it was all arranged, he wasn't sure what else to do.

Cole knocked on the door just after 8 p.m., and Keaton's heart skipped a beat. He wiped his palms on his jeans and opened the door.

"Hey," Cole greeted him with a smile, looking a little surprised by the setup. "Wow... you really went all out."

Keaton chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "Yeah, I guess. First time doing this kind of thing... Thought I'd make it nice."

Cole stepped inside, his eyes sweeping over the room before landing back on Keaton. "This is more than nice. This is... date night nice."

Keaton smiled, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. "We don't have to—"

"No, no," Cole interrupted quickly, smiling. "It's... different. I like it."

The evening unfolded more easily than either of them expected. They drank wine, laughed, and talked about everything from music to old stories from their pasts. Cole shared more than he thought he would about his life—about Freddie, his commitment issues, and why he kept his guard up. Keaton, in turn, talked about his ex, the one who had ghosted him, leaving him wondering why he wasn't enough.

As the night wore on and the wine flowed, the distance between them closed. At some point, they found themselves sitting close, knees touching, laughter fading into a comfortable silence.

"Want more wine?" Keaton asked, his voice a little slurred.

Cole shook his head, grinning. "I think I've had enough."

Keaton stood up, wobbling slightly as he reached for the bottle. "No such thing as enough..."

Cole laughed, standing up to steady him. "Careful there."

They ended up stumbling down the hallway, still laughing, their hands brushing as they found their way to the bedroom. Keaton pushed open the door, and they tumbled onto the bed, a mess of limbs and laughter.

Without thinking, Keaton leaned in, his lips brushing against Cole's in a soft, tentative kiss. Cole responded immediately, his hand slipping into Keaton's hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. It was slow at first, their movements careful, almost uncertain, but soon enough the urgency took over, and they lost themselves in the moment.

But as the wine and exhaustion caught up to them, their energy faded. Their hands slowed, their kisses becoming softer, lingering, but less desperate. They lay there, their bodies tangled together, the desire still present, but the fatigue too strong to fight.

Keaton pulled away, just enough to meet Cole's gaze, both of them breathing heavily. There was something tender in the silence, the closeness between them no longer just about physical attraction but something deeper, unspoken.

Without a word, Keaton wrapped his arms around Cole, pulling him close, letting Cole's body melt against his. Cole fit perfectly, their bodies aligning like pieces of a puzzle. Keaton's chest rose and fell steadily, and he could feel Cole's breath slow as they lay there, the warmth of each other's presence lulling them into a haze of half-consciousness.

They wanted to keep going, to explore the connection growing between them, but the weight of the day and the wine wouldn't let them. The exhaustion took over, and before either of them could fully process what had happened, in sync they drifted off, their minds weighted with unspoken thoughts.

Keaton held Cole tightly, his arms wrapped securely around him, as if by instinct. Their bodies pressed together, fitting perfectly like two halves of a whole. The warmth between them replaced any lingering chill from the room. Keaton's hand rested on Cole's chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing, the rise and fall syncing with his own.

The quiet of the night enveloped them, the faint flicker of candlelight casting soft shadows on the walls, slowly dimming as the candles burned down. Outside, the world carried on, but in this small bubble of warmth and closeness, it all felt distant, unimportant.

Cole stirred slightly, his head resting in the crook of Keaton's arm. He let out a small sigh, but didn't wake, his body shifting closer as if seeking even more of Keaton's warmth. Keaton smiled softly to himself in the dim light, tightening his embrace just a little, pulling Cole flush against him.

There was something about this—this feeling of closeness, of having someone next to him—that felt right in a way Keaton hadn't expected. It wasn't about the wine anymore, or the impulsive decision to meet up. It was about the connection, the quiet comfort of having someone to hold, someone to share the night with, even if just for a moment.

Keaton's eyes grew heavy as he closed them, allowing himself to finally let go of the thoughts that had weighed him down earlier. The stillness of the room, the sound of Cole's soft breathing, and the feeling of holding him close was enough to lull him into sleep.

For the first time in a long time, Keaton felt content. Whatever tomorrow would bring, whatever complications or emotions might arise, he knew this moment—this quiet, peaceful night—was something he wouldn't soon forget.

As they both drifted into a deep sleep, their bodies still intertwined, it was as if the world outside had paused for them. In this stillness, in this fleeting connection, something had changed. Neither of them knew what it was just yet, but they both sensed it—the unspoken promise of something more.

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