CULLY had started to notice that Dante was spending more and more time at Jordan and Barty’s dorm room—or worse, with his next crush—when things got too full, so Cully had started to rein it in.
He didn’t seem to function when Dante wasn’t there, even for a few moments in the afternoon, to tell him he was doing great or that the costumes looked wonderful or that his Design professor would be so thrilled with Cully’s work.
In a way, Cully hated himself for being so dependent on Dante’s opinion. He’d spent eighteen years in small-town hell, learning to be absolutely certain in his own damned skin, hadn’t he? But Dante, with his big goofy grin and his big goofy nose and his warm brown eyes—he seemed to ooze goodwill and kindness, and Cully was getting addicted.
Just like he was getting addicted to their little circle of friends.
He remembered the shot of jealousy that pierced him when Dante had gone calling for Jordan that morning of the dorm assignments, but now he totally got it. Dante wasn’t in love with Jordan—nor was he in love with whomever he was currently banging in his car during his break between his morning class and his midmorning class. Yeah, Cully had seen them making out, and while his jealousy had been acute, he’d been pretty sure that if the sentiment was real, Dante would have introduced the guy to their group of friends.
Cully’d had his chance, right? That moment the first day when Dante was looking at him with the big seductive brown eyes and Cully had thought, This is it. I’m going to kiss my first college boy. And then they’d paused, and Cully had thought, But he’s my first friend in this strange new place, and what if we kiss and it doesn’t work out?
And the moment had passed them by.
But even though Cully wasn’t kissing Dante, the fact was Cully still had Dante. He was in their dorm every night, and he never went off and did something with Jordan’s little group of friends without including Cully. And while Cully was perfectly capable of texting Jordan himself and staying involved in their group, the fact that Dante kept involving him, well, that meant Cully was special to Dante, and that’s really all he wanted, right?
But still, Cully was sort of curious to know what it would be like to kiss him.
Then Jordan’s dads—and imagine that; Jordan’s family was so LGBTQ+ friendly that he had dads—asked the whole lot of Jordan’s friends to their house in the foothills for spring break when it was just getting warm enough to swim.
They’d been there before on weekends and for a few days over Christmas, but something about having the whole spring break to relax in such wonderful surroundings was amazing! Dante and Cully had ended up rooming together—of course they did—but it really didn’t matter who roomed with whom (although they all knew Josh and Kate might not have been sleeping together yet, it was definitely going to happen) because the house was vast, and so much of their time was either out by the pool, swimming or dozing or talking, or in the jacuzzi, or, when they were all dried off and tired and sated from sun and good food, lazing in the glorious open-ceilinged living room, in the conversation pit where there were couches and beanbag chairs and a giant television that seemed to be dedicated to Rick and Morty.
Jordan’s dads’ place was wonderful, and as far as “house parties” went, hanging with fun people who drank a little beer but didn’t go overboard seemed to suit all of Jordan’s friends to a T. Cully had been to a couple of absolute ragers during high school, and he knew for a fact he wouldn’t miss them.
A sentiment Dante seemed to share.
“This is nice,” Dante murmured the third evening. He was sitting on the deck, watching the long shadows overtake the slight hill Asa and Sebastian’s home was perched on. The others had all gone inside about fifteen minutes earlier, but Dante and Cully had been waiting for their trunks to dry so they didn’t track water from the beautiful stained redwood into the kitchen and through the house.
Their trunks were dry now, but… well, the view, right?
“Jordan’s grandma is supposed to be bringing over casserole tonight to eat,” Cully said, his voice full of a little bit of awe. “Can you imagine? My grandma couldn’t be bothered to remember my birthday, and she’s catering to Jordan’s friends? What nice people!”
Dante chuckled. “Yeah. I’m sort of in awe myself.” They’d spent Christmas here, both of them, along with Bartholomew. Alex, Kate, and Josh all had families who would have been hurt if they hadn’t gone home for the holidays, but Dante’s family still wasn’t warming up to the gay thing, and Cully’s father… well, Cully emailed him regularly, but the only sense Cully got from his dad was relief. Like Cully had been raised long enough to go off and be with his own kind. And Barty’s parents were…. Cully suppressed a shudder. Homophobia wasn’t the only way to kill a kid’s spirit, and Barty’s parents were prime examples.
“It’s nice of Jordan to share,” Cully said, his voice chattering a little.
To his surprise—and his pleasure—Dante looped an arm over his shoulder. “To keep you warm,” Dante said softly. “’Cause the sun’s almost set, and I’d hate for us to miss it.”
Cully nodded, but the truth was, his eyes were fixed on Dante’s broad Italian profile. Wide jaw, square chin, Italian nose, liquid eyes—he would have given a young John Travolta or Adrian Zmed a run for their money.
But it was this warmth right here that made Cully yearn for moments like this. Tucked up against Dante’s bare chest, protected by his broad shoulders and the kindness that was so much a part of him, Cully always felt like he was wrapped in a fine cashmere sweater that Dante readily lent to his friends.
For a moment, Dante was focused on the sunset as the sky turned from brilliant gold to azure to violet, watching the black shadows of oak and pine stretch over the hills until they lay like a thick wool blanket.
Cully allowed himself to fill his eyes with Dante, until suddenly those brown eyes were on him.
“Whatcha lookin’ at, Cully?” Dante asked, voice rough.
You. You’re so pretty. Why didn’t you ever try to kiss me again?
“Nothing,” Cully whispered. “The sunset. It’s lovely.”
Dante’s disappointment was so obvious and acute, it cooled the very air around them and made Cully yearn for a blanket, or dry clothes, or….
Or Dante’s arms, holding him close, while Dante’s mouth moved over his. Cully groaned and welcomed him where he should have been since that first day. They kissed until Cully pulled back in panic and whispered, “What are we doing?”
“What we should have been doing all along,” Dante murmured. “God, Cully, how could you not know I wanted you?”
“I want you so bad,” Cully confessed. “It’s like fire. When you’re making out with whomever during break, I want to go down and beat them over the head.”
Dante’s laugh was cracked and sad. “I’m not making out with anyone anymore,” he said. “I kept talking about my roommate, Cully. You take up all my brain—there’s no room for anyone else.”
Cully moaned a little, pleased with the fact and with the compliment, and Dante’s mouth moved over his again….