Accidental Confessions

The wrap party was held in a candlelit beach bar where no one knew who they were-or at least, pretended not to care.

Jackson hated these things. Too loud. Too many strangers. Too much smoke in the air and cheap rum on everyone's breath. But Kole? Kole was in his element-draped across a barstool, laughing, bright-eyed, sipping something pink and dangerous from a glass that matched.

Jackson sat in the shadows, watching him.

He watched the way Kole flirted with the bartender, how his hand lingered too long when accepting a napkin. He watched the way Kole tilted his head when he laughed, exposing the line of his throat. He watched the way people watched him.

And it burned.

Kole wandered over eventually, drink sloshing a little in his hand.

"You always this broody at parties?" he asked, slurring just enough to make it sweet.

Jackson arched a brow. "You always this drunk?"

Kole leaned down, way too close. His breath smelled like cherries and trouble. "Tipsy," he whispered. "Not drunk. Yet."

He sat beside Jackson, far too comfortably, legs pressed close. His shoulder bumped Jackson's. He didn't move away.

"You're staring," Kole said after a beat, lips parted.

"You're acting," Jackson muttered.

Kole tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "Am I?"

He reached for his drink again and Jackson caught his wrist, holding it just a second longer than necessary.

"Don't start something you can't handle," Jackson said low.

Kole licked his lips. "Maybe I want to be handled."

That did it.

Jackson stood abruptly. "We're leaving."

-

Back at the villa, the silence was sharp.

Kole kicked his shoes off clumsily and flopped onto the bed, half-laughing, half-sighing. "Jesus. You act like I embarrassed you."

"You did."

Kole turned on his side, propped on an elbow. "You mean you were embarrassed because someone else saw me."

Jackson's jaw clenched.

"Do you think I'm yours now?" Kole whispered. "You didn't claim me."

"You're not a thing to be claimed," Jackson snapped, turning away.

But Kole didn't stop. He slid off the bed and walked-no, stumbled-toward him. "You look at me like you want to. You sleep beside me like it costs you. You breathe heavier when I walk by."

"Kole-"

"Don't lie to me. You don't get to lie."

He poked Jackson in the chest, voice cracking. "I see the way you look at me when you think I'm not watching. Like you hate wanting me. Like it's something ugly."

Jackson didn't move. Couldn't.

"And you know what?" Kole muttered, voice dropping as he swayed slightly. "I hate it too. Because you don't make it easy. You don't say anything. You just... look. Like I'm the fire and you're already burned."

Jackson caught him then-arms under Kole's as he started to tip. Drunk, dizzy, vulnerable.

"Hey. Sit down."

Kole sagged against him. "You make me crazy."

Jackson eased him onto the bed, gently, like laying down something fragile. Kole reached for him then, eyes half-lidded.

"Stay," he whispered.

Jackson didn't reply.

He covered Kole with the thin cotton sheet and sat beside him, tense and silent.

Kole reached out in his sleep-fingers curling lightly around Jackson's wrist, soft, instinctive.

Jackson didn't move.

Not for a long time.