The suite was quiet, touched only by the low hum of evening air through the balcony doors and the occasional rustle of clothing being folded away. The warm lights above the bed cast a soft gold across the sheets, turning everything muted, intimate, unreal.
Trevor moved slowly; he didn't want to startle the silence now that they were finally alone. His jacket was already off, shirt half-unbuttoned, sleeves rolled past his forearms. He wasn't saying much, not with words, but his gaze hadn't left Lucas since they stepped through the door.
Lucas was sitting on the edge of the bed, his cufflinks resting in his palm, half-forgotten.
"You're staring," he said, not looking up.
"I know," Trevor replied, unapologetic.
"Are you going to ask?"
Trevor hummed, leaning against the doorway that led from the dressing room. "Only if you're ready."
Lucas exhaled slowly. The kind that felt too full of thoughts to fit neatly in words.
