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Trayvon's place always felt different from anywhere else.
It wasn't just the way it looked even though it was nice, all dark wood, soft lighting, and clean lines it was the way it felt. Warm. Safe. Like when you stepped inside, the rest of the world couldn't touch you. His scent wrapped around me the second I crossed the threshold. Clean soap, a hint of cologne, and something uniquely him that made my chest tighten in the best way.
He tossed me one of his oversized hoodies as soon as I kicked off my shoes. I caught it with a grin and tugged it over my head, breathing him in. It swallowed me, the sleeves falling past my wrists, and Trayvon just chuckled low in his throat as he watched me.
"Looks better on you anyway," he murmured, that little smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.
God, he was dangerous.
We ended up flopping onto his couch, shoulders brushing, knees bumping, wasting time arguing over what to watch. The TV barely mattered, there was some loud action movie with explosions every other second because we couldn't stop talking and laughing, trading dumb jokes and bumping into each other like we were kids.
At some point, I shifted closer, leaning my head against his shoulder, and he didn't even hesitate to pull me into his side, his arm draping heavy and comforting around me.
For a long time, we just sat close enough to feel each other breathe.
When I finally tilted my head up to look at him, his gaze was already on me.
But it wasn't playful anymore.
His eyes were darker, heavier, focused entirely on my mouth. My heart flipped over in my chest, and I felt the whole atmosphere between us shift. The air getting thicker, hotter, charged with something we hadn't dared touch until now.
He leaned in slowly, giving me every chance to move away.
But moving away was the last thing I wanted.
When his lips finally brushed against mine, it was light at first, almost shy. But the second I responded, pressing back, the kiss deepened instantly. His fingers tangled into my hair, angling my head so he could kiss me harder, deeper, and I grabbed onto his hoodie like it was the only thing holding me up.
Trayvon kissed like he felt everything raw and hungry and completely unguarded.
By the time we pulled apart for breath, we were both panting, our foreheads pressed together.
"You sure about this?" he rasped, voice rough with restraint.
I barely managed to nod. "Yeah. I'm sure."
That was all he needed.
He kissed me again, rougher this time, his hands moving to my hips. He stood up without breaking the kiss, lifting me with ridiculous ease. I clung to him, laughing breathlessly into his mouth, my legs locking around his waist. He carried me down the hall, kicking the bedroom door shut behind us.
