The game was a blur of stats and shouting, but Evan saw none of it. From his spot on the floor, he watched Marcus lean against the kitchen counter, completely at ease in a space that felt too small for him. Marcus was older, a friend of his roommate Kevin, and he carried himself with a quiet confidence that made Evan’s usual smart-mouthed responses feel clumsy and loud. When Marcus glanced over and caught him staring, Evan’s face heated. He didn’t look away fast enough, and he saw it: the slight curve of Marcus’s lips, the knowing look that said he’d been noticed.
Three weeks ago, when Marcus had first come over with Kevin, Evan had barely registered him. But with each visit, Marcus’s presence had grown larger in the small apartment, occupying more space in Evan’s mind than his actual body did in their cramped living room. He noticed how Marcus listened more than he spoke, how his eyes missed nothing, how he could command attention without raising his voice above a low murmur.
“You’re staring again,” Kevin had teased yesterday when Marcus was in the bathroom. “Just fuck him already or move on.”
Evan had thrown a cushion at his roommate, but the words had lodged in his brain. Just fuck him already. As if it were that simple. As if Marcus weren’t six years older, impossibly composed, and completely out of Evan’s league.
Later, as the group dwindled, Evan found himself standing too close to Marcus while reaching for a glass in the cupboard. Their shoulders brushed. “Careful,” Marcus murmured, his voice low enough that only Evan could hear. “Don’t want to break anything.” The double meaning hung in the air between them, thick and suffocating. Evan’s breath hitched, and he hated how obvious his reaction was, how clearly Marcus could read him.
Marcus’s eyes had darkened slightly, his gaze dropping to Evan’s lips for a fraction of a second before returning to his eyes. “You’re thinking too loud,” he added, his voice barely above a whisper. “Everyone can hear you.”
That was two hours ago. Now, the apartment had emptied except for Kevin, who was passed out on the couch, and Jake, who had just gone into the bathroom to take a shower.
Evan retreated to his bedroom, ostensibly to find his phone charger, but really to escape the charged atmosphere that had been building between him and Marcus all evening. He sat on the edge of his bed, running his hands through his hair, trying to calm his racing heart.
The deadbolt clicked with a sound too loud for the quiet apartment. Evan’s head snapped up as Marcus slipped inside his bedroom, closing the door softly behind him.
“My roommate—” Evan started, his voice coming out as a squeak.
“Passed out,” Marcus whispered, stepping closer. “And Jake’s in the shower.” His eyes tracked the nervous swallow that moved Evan’s throat. “We have about fifteen minutes.”
Evan nodded, though they both knew it wasn’t true. Jake took thirty-minute showers, and Kevin wouldn’t stir until morning, but the lie hung between them anyway—a thin excuse for what they both wanted.
“You’re shaking,” Marcus observed, his voice low and even. He reached out, his fingers brushing Evan’s wrist. “Why are you nervous?”
“I’m not,” Evan lied, his body betraying him with another tremor.
Marcus smiled faintly, a knowing expression that made Evan’s face heat. “You’ve been watching me all night.”
“So? You’ve been watching me too.”
“Because you make it so easy,” Marcus murmured, stepping closer until their knees were nearly touching. “Every thought shows on your face. Every reaction.” His hand moved from Evan’s wrist to his cheek, thumb stroking the line of his jaw. “I like that about you.”
Evan’s breath hitched. “You shouldn’t be in here.”
“No,” Marcus agreed, his other hand coming to rest on Evan’s hip. “I shouldn’t.” His thumb traced Evan’s bottom lip. “But I am.”
The apartment seemed to shrink around them, the walls closing in. From the living room, they could hear Kevin’s soft snores. From the bathroom, the muffled sounds of Jake moving around. The pipes in the walls groaned occasionally, old and noisy.
“You’re thinking too loud again,” Marcus whispered, leaning in until his lips were almost touching Evan’s. “What’s going through that head of yours?”
“You,” Evan breathed, the admission torn from him. “Just you.”
Marcus’s smile widened slightly. “Good.” He closed the remaining distance between them, pressing his lips to Evan’s in a soft, questioning kiss. When Evan responded immediately, parting his lips and leaning into it, Marcus deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring Evan’s mouth with unhurried precision.
Evan’s hands came up to grip Marcus’s shoulders, his body responding with an urgency that made him feel exposed and vulnerable. He could feel Marcus’s heart beating steadily against his chest, a calm rhythm that contrasted with his own frantic pulse.
“Easy,” Marcus murmured against his lips, pulling back slightly. “We have time.” His eyes scanned Evan’s face, reading every flicker of emotion. “But we need to be quiet.”
Evan nodded, his throat too tight to speak. The thought of being overheard sent a thrill through him that was equal parts terror and excitement.
“Get in bed with me,” Marcus whispered, his voice barely audible. “And don’t make a sound.”
Evan obeyed, his movements stiff with anticipation. He slid back on his narrow bed; the sheets cool against his heated skin. Marcus followed, settling beside him with a grace that seemed impossible in the confined space.
They stripped quickly, the rustle of clothing seeming impossibly loud in the quiet room. Evan’s hands trembled as he unbuttoned his jeans, and he could feel Marcus’s eyes on him, watching every reaction, every hesitation.
Once naked, they kissed again, slow and deliberate, the soft press of lips and quiet breaths filling the small space. Their bodies pressed together, rubbing and frotting, the friction building heat without a single word. Evan fought to stay silent, to control the sounds that wanted to escape his throat.
“You’re doing good,” Marcus murmured against his ear, his voice a low vibration that made Evan shiver. “But I can feel how much you want to make noise.”
Evan bit his lip, nodding. His hips moved instinctively against Marcus’s, seeking more friction, more contact.
“Not yet,” Marcus whispered, pushing Evan onto his back and hovering over him. “First, I want to hear how quiet you can be.”
He kissed his way down Evan’s body, his lips and tongue exploring every sensitive spot, every place that made Evan’s breath catch and his muscles tense. Evan’s hands twisted in the sheets, his knuckles white with the effort of staying silent.
When Marcus took Evan’s cock in his mouth, Evan arched off the bed, a strangled sound escaping his throat before he could stop it.
