Chapter Fifteen - Bodies Close
The air outside had teeth now. Sharp little bites of the cold that nipped through my hoodie and made me shove my hands deeper into pockets. Leaves scattered along the path in bursts of color, crunching underfoot. The whole campus smelled faintly of damp earth and coffee.
Mason walked beside me, collar of his jacket flipped up against the wind and his dark hair a mess that the breeze only made worse. He had that look about him, the one I'd come to recognize since I met him. His shoulders were tense, jaw tight and eyes distant. His broody mood was out in full force.
I didn't push. I'd quickly learnt that trying to crack him open when he was like this never worked and that sometimes he just needed time, whether it was ten minutes or the whole day. It always passed.
We stopped at the cart outside the library, Mason ordered two scalding hot chocolates without asking me, he swore they were better than coffee (they weren't) but it had become our thing.
We carried the cups across the quad, steam curling in the cold air. Mason finally spoke when we reached the steps.
"You ever notice how quiet its gotten? Like everyone is still here, but it feels like they're all hiding"
I sipped carefully at the hot chocolate, trying not to burn my tongue. "Yeah. Guess the weather drives everyone inside."
He hummed low in his throat, gaze distant again. Then, like flicking a switch, his tone lightened. "Or maybe they're just smarter than us and don't stand around freezing their asses off."
I laughed, bumping my shoulder into his as we climbed the steps. "Probably that."
Inside the library was warm, the air thick with the smell of paper and dust. We found an alcove by the windows and settled in, drinks steaming between us. The glass was fogged faintly at the edges, the world outside blurred into a wash of gold and grey.
We didn't talk for a while. Mason scrolled on his phone, frowning deeply at something whilst I worked on a paper due soon. It should have been boring but it felt easy. Comfortable. Like we'd slipped into some rhythm I hadn't even realized was forming until now.
Eventually he broke the silence. "So, when are you gonna ask someone out?"
I blinked at him. "What?"
He leaned back, smirking down at the cup that he cradled in one hand. "You know. An actual date. Not just whatever hookups you've avoided telling me about."
Heat crawled up my neck instantly. "I haven't... there's nothing to tell."
"Uhuh, sure" His smirk widening enough to show he was enjoying this. "Come on. Don't tell me you haven't noticed anyone. There's that guy in my psych class, Eli. He's not subtle Milo. Pretty sure he'd say yes before you finished asking."
I nearly choked on my drink. Of all the people to bring up. "Eli?"
"Yeah. Tall, dark hair, sits near the back. You know the one?"
My ears burned. "I... yeah. I know him."
Mason tilted his head, watching me too closely. "So? What's the hold up?"
I stared into my hot chocolate like it might swallow me whole. "Because we..." I stopped, sighed and muttered, "because I've already hooked up with him, okay?"
That got Mason's full attention. His eyebrows shot up, then knit together as his smirk twitched back into place. "Already? When the hell did that happen?"
I hesitated before admitting, "Couple weeks ago. In our room."
Mason froze for a fraction of a second. Then slowly set down his cup. "You're telling me you invited him into our dorm and what? Went at it?"
I winched. "Yes."
He stared at me like he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or kill me. Then his mouth twitched, and he let out a sharp laugh that drew a few looks from nearby tables. “Jesus, Milo. No wonder he’s been giving me weird looks in class.”
I buried my face in my arms. “Kill me now.”
Mason leaned in, voice dropping low and teasing. “Did you at least make him return the favor?”
I groaned louder. “No. He just—left.”
That made him laugh even harder, sharp and unrestrained. He pressed a hand to his forehead, shaking his head.
“Shut up,” I muttered, though I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my own mouth.
Mason leaned back again, stretching his legs under the table. “Fine. But next time? Make sure you get something out of it. Otherwise, what’s the point?”
“Yeah? You giving me advice now?”
“Clearly you need it.”
I snorted, shaking my head. “Pretty bold talk from a guy who spends all his time brooding and scaring off literally everyone else.”
That got him. He tilted his head back and laughed, low and rough, the kind of laugh that pulled at something in my chest. When he looked at me again, his eyes were warmer than the steam curling up between us.
“Fair enough,” he said, still smiling faintly.
The quiet after that was different—lighter, threaded with something easier.
By the time we got back to the dorms, the light outside had dipped into that late autumn gold that didn't last long before collapsing into night. The air smelled like woodsmoke from somewhere off campus, sharp and sweet, and Mason's breath fogged white in front of him as we climbed the stairs.
Our room was warm in comparison, though still holding a chill from the drafty old windows. Mason kicked his shoes off hallway across the room, letting them land wherever, and flopped back on his bed with a groan like he'd just run a marathon.
I dumped my bag by my desk. "You're acting like we hiked across the state."
"Mentally we did." he muttered, one arm draped over his eyes.
I snorted, pulling out my laptop but not turning it on. "You're dramatic."
"Comes naturally," he said, the smirk in his voice obvious.
That made me grin despite myself. I sat on my bed, legs crossed, laptop abandoned beside me. For a while the room was just quiet, the kind of quiet I'd gotten used to with him.
"You ever think about transferring?" Mason asked suddenly, voice muffled under his arm.
I blinked. "What? No. Why?"
He lifted his arm just enough to glance at me. "Dunno. Sometimes I wonder if I'd be happier somewhere far from here."
I studied him for a moment. His shirt had ridden up a little, showing a strip of skin above his waistband, the kind of detail I tried not to stare at too long. "Pretty sure your moods would follow you anywhere dude."
He smirked faintly, as though he'd been expecting that answer. "Maybe." A beat passed. Then, "Still, having you around makes it less unbearable."
That made my chest tighten in a way I couldn't cover with humor, but I still tried. "You getting soft on me?"
He rolled onto his side to face me, the smirk still there but softer now. "Maybe."
For a second I didn't know what to do with that, so I grabbed one of my pillows and launched it at him. He caught it against his chest, laughing under his breath. "Careful, you don't want to start a full on pillow war."
"Scared you'd lose?"
"Oh is that so?" He grinned and launched it back, it catching me in the face.
"Hey!" I barked as it fell into my lap. He started to laugh softly at me. The pillow left my hand before he could finish grinning. It hit him in the shoulder with a satisfying thump, knocking him sideways into the wall. He laughed, low and ungarded and the sound sparked something in me, so much so I was already lunging for another.
"Don't you dare.."
Too late.
He rolled off the bed to avoid my next throw, landing on the carpet with a heavy thud. I laughed so hard my stomach hurt as he scrambled back up, hair falling in his face, eyes alight with that rare spark I only saw when his guard was fully down.
Then he charged.
One second I was braced on my bed, the next he'd tackled me onto it, grabbing at the pillow I was clinging to. The mattress dipped violently under his weight, sending us both rolling. I got an elbow in his side, and he retaliated by shoving knee against mine, trying to pin me.
"Dirty move!" I squealed, half laughing and half struggling.
"All's fair," he shot back breathless as he ripped the pillow free and swung it across my chest.
The impact rattled through me, knocking the wind from my lungs. I shoved at his shoulder, trying to twist away, but he was stronger, weight pressing me back into the mattress until all I could do was squirm and laugh helpessly.
His hair was falling across his face, eyes bright and cheeks flushed from the effort. I caught the shape of his grin, wild and unguarded, before he brought the pillow down again softer this time, just enough to smother my laugh.
"Say you give up" Mason demanded, voice rough from breathlessness.
"Never!" I choked out through the pillow.
He laughed, a real one, and then tossed the pillow aside opting to go for my wrists instead. His fingers closed tight around them, pinning them to the mattress either side of my head.
The stillness hit like a blow.
Mason hovered over me, his weight pressing into the dip of the mattress, chest rising and falling against mine with each breath. His hair had fallen forward, strands brushing across his forehead, the line of his jaw shadowed and sharp in the lamplight.
I swallowed hard, pulse rattling in my throat. His grip wasn't rough, not really, but it was firm, like I wouldn't be able to move even if I tried.
"Not so tough now, huh?" Mason's voice was low and amused, his breath warm against my cheek.
"Y-you're... cheating again," I managed, though my voice cracked under the weight of him above me.
His smirk deepened. "Call it skill."
I wanted to laugh, to shove back, but my body betrayed me. Heat coiled tight in my stomach, my cock swelling hard and urgent against the front of my sweats. Pressed down like this, his weight overing over me, there was no way to shift away without him noticing.
I tried anyway, angling my hips to the side, but the movement only dragged me closer against him.
Then it happened. His thigh brushed against mine Just enough pressure. Just enough contact.
My cock jerked hard in response, pressing against the fabric. Pressing against him.
Mason stilled.
The smirk faded from his lips, replaced by something unreadable. His eyes flicked down between us before locking back on mine. The blood roared in my ears. My chest was tight and I swore I could actually feel the exact moment something shifted in him. The air between us got heavier, charged.
He didn't move away. Instead, he shifted closer, so the line of his thigh pressed more firmly into me. The friction sent a jolt straight through my gut, my cock straining so hard against the thin fabric it almost hurt.
I sucked in a sharp breath, my wrists still pinned above me.
"Mason..." His name came out strangled, more a plea than anything else.
His grip on my wrists tightened, not painfully, but with a certainty that made my pulse trip. He was leaning over me fully now, his chest brushing against mine, the faint stubble along his jaw catching the low light as his face hovered close.
"You.." His voice was rougher, lower, almost disbelieving. "You're hard.
Heat flooded my cheeks, humiliation and want clashing all at once. "I.. I can't help it." I stammered, voice thin and desperate.
But Mason didn't flinch back. His breath hitched audibly, lips parting like he was fighting something in himself. His eyes roamed my face, lingering at my mouth, before dragging downward again.
And then, deliberately, he rolled his hips just enough to press against me. Slow, testing.
The contact sent a violent shiver through me. My cock throbbed helplessly, grinding back before I even realised I'd move.
Mason's jaw flexed, his exhale sharp. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, voice like gravel.
I couldn't look away. Couldn't move. My whole body was alive under him, every nerve pulled tight, caught between terror that this was too much and the aching want for more.
Mason's grip on my wrists held firm, pressing them down into the mattress like he'd decided letting go wasn't an option, like he was unable to.
The first slow drag of his hips against mine knocked the air right out of me. My cock twitched violently at the pressure, the friction of his sweatpants against mine, and I couldn't stop the sound that tore out my throat, half gasping and half moaning.
His eyes flicked down, his jaw tight, and then he did it again. Harder. His cock pressed thick against mine through the thin fabric, the grind so precise it made me arch helplessly beneath him, but I wanted more.
"Fuck... Keep going" I whispered, my voice cracking, his jerking upward in time with his motions.
He pinned me harder in response, shifting his weight so his chest was pressed flush against mine, his breath hot against the side of my neck. His thighs slid between mine, forcing me open just enough that he could slot his hips closer bearing down into the strain of my cock. My legs curled around the small of his back.
The sensation was everything. Trapped under him, every part of me burning, my cock grinding against his with the slow roll of his hips. I couldn't think. Couldn't speak.
He muttered something under his breath, low and raw and then shoved harder, his cock dragging perfectly against mine through the fabric. The pressure made my back arch, my wrists tensing under his grip as I strained to touch more of him.
And then, he froze.
Everything stopped. His breath caught sharp in his throat, and he pulled back just enough to look down at me.
The haze in his eyes cleared in an instant, replaced by shock. His chest heaved, sweat damp at his temple and he let go of my wrists like they had burned him.
"Shit." His voice cracked as he scrambled back, stumbling off the bed so fast the mattress lurched. "Fuck.. I.." He ran a hand over his face, already backing toward the door. "I shouldn't have..."
"Mason.." I started, my body still desperate but he shook his head violently.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, voice rough and broken. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving only the echo of him and the ache of my throbbing cock.
The room was silent. My chest still heaved, every inch of me lit up like I'd been set on fire, but all I could do was stare at the door.
