Page 70 of Ethan

Hank couldn’t remember the last time he’d dry humped to an orgasm; wasn’t sure he’deverdone it, even in juniors, and yet, this was going to sweep him away, without much intention to it at all.

The angle wasn’t even all that good, awkward almost, and yet none of that mattered.

All that mattered was that it was Ethan writhing and moaning underneath him, Hank’s hands in his hair putting him exactly where he wanted him.

He was so close he could practically taste it, and then he felt Ethan go still and shudder, and that was all it took to tip Hank right over the edge.

Pleasure spiraled through him, leaving him wet and satisfied in his boxer briefs. Vaguely, Hank thought he should apologize. Maybe even feel a little bit ashamed at how entirely they’d gotten carried away. They hadn’t even made it to a bed. Instead, they’d rubbed off on each other like two teenagers right here on Barney’s sofa.

But when Hank pulled back, aware even if he had no fucking clue what he should say in this situation, that he should saysomething, Ethan was smiling. Big and wide. Happy and pleased. Like he should be looking all the time, right after he’d had sex with Hank.

How could Hank possibly apologize after that?

It wasn’t happening.

“So uh, yeah, that . . .” Hank still didn’t know what heshouldsay, though.

Ethan just laughed. In a way that made Hank feel like he was laughing right alongwithHank, notathim, even though Hank hadn’t even made a nervous chuckle.

“Kind of inevitable, don’t you think?” Ethan finally said.

And that was exactly right, exactly what Hank had been searching for; a thought he hadn’t been able to put his words to.

“Yeah,” Hank agreed, and he couldn’t help it then. He smiled. Kissed Ethan right through it, even though they were both grinning.

“This is gonna go to our graves, though,” Ethan said, when he pulled back again. He dusted a whole string of kisses down Hank’s jawline. “Charlie’d kill me if he knew we did this on his couch.”

Yeah.Hank didn’t relish the idea of Charlie ever finding out about this, either.

He’d probably forgive Ethan because Ethan was his beloved youngest brother. On the other hand, Hank was just the random d-man hanging around aforementioned youngest brother, who couldn’t even fucking make it on the roster.

That thought was a whole bucketful of icy cold water dumped on his head.

Shit.Shit.

Ethan stroked up and down his back. The touch still pinged all his nerves, and if he hadn’t just come, he probably would’ve gotten hard again, just from the feel of it. The proprietary way Ethan touched him, even though they hadn’t actually had a conversation about whatanyof this meant.

“What is it?” he asked.

Hank tried to pick his words carefully. Hewasn’tgood at this—at pairing them up appropriately with his emotions and his thoughts—and the last thing he wanted was to fuck this up, now. Not when it was so good. Not when he wanted to do it again.

But that was the whole fucking problem.

He wasn’t going to be able to do it again. Not anytime soon, probably.

“I hate that I’m leaving.”

“In general or because of this?” Ethan asked, gesturing between them, the look in his eyes adorably impudent.

“You’re trouble, aren’t you?” It was easy to keep teasing. To keep things light, instead of letting himself fall into the pit of frustration that he kept eyeing from a distance.

“Only been told that my whole life,” Ethan said smugly, like he was proud of it. Like whenHanksaid it, it was totally different than when his brothers or sister gave him shit.

“Well, I like it,” Hank admitted. “And both, actually. I’m pissed I’m going back to Syracuse because I didn’t want to, not this year, and pissed because you’re going to be sticking around here.”

Not that Ethan probably didn’t know, already, but it was satisfying to see that smile bloom across Ethan’s face again.

Ethan shifted a little. “I know.” He hesitated. “Do you wanna go clean up? Maybe order some food?”