Page 122 of Contested

“Can’t sleep?”

Sebastian’s voice came from his left, and Marcos turned to see him walking down the hall.

It looked as though Sebastian had already been trying to sleep. His hair was sticking up in all directions, flattened on one side and wild on the other. His sweatpants looked twisted, and his shirt had been put on in a rush, inside out. Marcos noticed that last part and had to bite down on the immediate urge to tell him.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Marcos said with a shrug. “This is a dream. You’re dreaming right now.”

“Oh, yeah?” Sebastian came to stand next to Marcos, leaning on the wall.

Marcos hummed. “Yep. Kinda weird that you’re dreaming of me, though.”

“True. Usually, you don’t have clothes on in my dreams.”

“Oh?” Marcos’ eyebrows raised. “I’d love to hear more about those.”

Sebastian chuckled. “Maybe one day. What are you doing?”

“I wanted chips, but these are all shit. And Parker wanted something, but I forgot what it was.”

“They have sour cream.” Sebastian leaned across, pressing his finger to the glass, his shoulder resting against Marcos.

“I’d rather starve.”

Sebastian spun, his back now against the vending machine, and the space between him and Marcos was less than an inch.

Marcos’ breath caught, and he swallowed hard.

It had been a while since they had been alone like this. Really alone. Not in the brief, stolen way of corridors and locker-room corners, not with teammates nearby or cameras around or the club sitting too close to whatever they were trying to keep between themselves. The hotel hallway wasn’t exactly private, but it was empty and quiet. Too late for most people to be walking around unless they also happened to be overthinking the game tomorrow.

Sebastian was close enough that Marcos could feel the warmth of him through the small gap between them. Feel Sebastian’s breath on his lips.

He would only need to lean in a fraction to kiss him.

He wanted to.

It had been too long, and the pull in his chest was next to impossible to resist. Especially when Sebastian’s eyes flicked to Marcos’ mouth, quick and clear before he brought them back up again.

Neither of them moved.

The vending machine hummed behind Sebastian. The light above them blinked off, then on again.

“You’re nervous,” Sebastian stated with a smirk. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen that look.”

Marcos scoffed. “When have you ever seen me nervous?”

“When you came to my apartment to kiss me comes to mind.”

“I wasn’t nervous,” Marcos lied. “I was in pain. You’d punched me in the face earlier that day. Just to remind you.”

“Yeah. That was a good punch.” Sebastian tilted his head, smirking.

Marcos shook his head. “Why are you awake?”

“I asked you first.”

“You didn’t ask shit.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes and bit his lower lip. “I spoke to my dad earlier today. So, I’ve just been thinking. You?”