He hadn’t meant to kiss him. He was trying to make up for kissing him the other night—for being kissed the other night—and he hadn’t wanted to or tried to kiss Matt. He was just trying to be a good, casual, regular friend but then Matt had turned to him, still laughing, grin wide, and well, Sebastian was only human. He could only do so much. He hadn’t meant to kiss him.

But now that he was, Sebastian didn’t think he could stop.

Sebastian has never known it to be like this. No kiss or touch had ever been half as good as the ones that Matt gives, each one shooting down his spine at record speed.

It’s a twist of hips that has him reeling, has his head swirling in a hurricane of endorphins and nerve endings and oh god, please. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt half as good as he does right now, half as out of his mind. Sebastian is a thousand little feelings, all vibrating and pressing against one another in a gloriously wanton way.

He’s lost the ability to think. He doesn’t know if he even ever had that ability. Maybe, the second that Matt’s eyes had flashed and his hands had wound in his hair, it had caused Sebastian’s brain to shut off and he’d been lost.

Because Sebastian does feel lost. Wandering in the dark, phone dead, buildings or trees or ocean all blending together to create one long, immeasurable scene. Alone and untouched by anything or anyone except the vastness of his surroundings—lost, in the most miraculous of ways. Lost in the world and inside his own body—but he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind being lost because Matt’s chasing after him, each clash of teeth and swipe of tongues only a half second behind, like a flashlight at the edge of the frame, sweeping past his body as it works its way through the dark, vast fullness.

He has no idea how much time has passed since he’d thrown himself across the couch and trapped Matt’s body beneath his own. He has a moment of clarity, just a brief clearing of his thoughts and mind. It hits him sharply and he forces himself to pull away from the heat of Matt’s mouth, to use his fists to push himself away instead of suspend him close. He pulls back to check to see if Matt really is as into this as he feels, searching his face for clues and answers.

Matt’s hands are still running through his hair but they grip, hard, and Sebastian’s whole body shakes with the ferocity of his groan. Matt’s eyes narrow and his lips are slick and shiny, swollen a deep red, while his brown eyes are black. His chest heaves up and down and his hair is a wild mess from being pressed and twisted in the cushion of the couch for the past however long. He looks like a vision—a literal, sinful, angelic vision. Sebastian doesn’t have the capacity to untangle the confusion in his chest, to figure out how someone so, so beautiful, someone he wants so badly, can be the kind of person he’s not supposed to want at all.

Sebastian doesn’t want to want Matt.

Matt parts his lips and a little breath like a sigh falls from between those swollen pillows, and Sebastian is willing to damn them both if he could just let go and press against them again.

“Is this okay?” Matt asks, as if he’s not the one underneath, trapped and being helplessly mauled.

This is his out. This is his chance to pull away completely and laugh it off and say, well, things happen, don’t they? To stop it from going anymore, to pretend like he doesn’t want to kiss him.

This is his chance. He sits back, untangling his limbs from Matt’s, and sits on the couch like a regular person. Matt follows, scrambling to sit next to him. He watches him, dark eyes flickering across Sebastian’s face, as if he’s looking for the clues and answers that Sebastian doesn’t have to give.

He turns to him fully and opens his mouth. He’s going to take his chance and get out of this situation before it gets worse. He’s just leading Matt on—he doesn’t even like guys. He’s not gay. He needs to stop this before it gets worse...but he doesn’t quite get that out.

“Yes,” he says instead. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

Matt cocks his head, nodding. His lips spread into a bit of a smile, a small one, but Sebastian can’t help but narrow his focus to it completely. Watching the way they split and stretch is enthralling in a way that Sebastian can’t understand, but also can’t fight.

Matt’s now throwing one leg over Sebastian’s hip, the other clenching around his other side, straddling his lap. Matt’s hands go to the top of the couch, curling around the curve of the cushion, arms on either side of Sebastian’s face. His head falls, just a little, until his lips are a centimeter away from Sebastian’s...then he waits.

Sebastian’s whole body yearns. He wants to stretch up, close the space between them. Their chests could press together and their lips would meet and their hips might brush. Sebastian’s breathing turns ragged and rough just from thinking and imagining the rush of heat—of that fiery, lost, all encompassing heat.

Matt stays suspended, only his thighs on either side of Sebastian’s legs touching him. It’s barely anything and it’s already sending heady dizziness through his head.

Sebastian waits. He keeps being the one to make the first move—a move he doesn’t even want until it’s happening—and he wants it to be Matt that gives in, that crumbles and breaks and kisses.

Matt stays still, and Sebastian is trying to wait.

Then he can’t.

He throws one arm around Matt’s waist, the other around his neck to grab the dark, curly hair and pull him down hard against him. Their lips crash just a second before their chests and then Matt’s there with him, just as lost, just as stumbling. He rotates his hips in hard, slow little circles and his tongue swipes against Sebastian’s bottom lip, begging for entrance that Sebastian is all too eager to give.

Matt’s teeth pull at his bottom lip, biting and licking and working the kiss from something hard and desperate into something slow and needy. Sebastian doesn’t want to just touch Matt anymore; he’s losing the ability to want anything specific, the more Matt works him undone. All he's able to do is become jello boned and pliant, waiting, wanting, searching.

His own hands wander, clenching in his hair, sliding down his shoulders. His nails scrape against the back of Matt’s neck and from on top of him, he gives a little keening sound that’s so gentle and intoxicating that Sebastian does it again and again just to keep hearing and swallowing the sounds.

Sebastian lets one hand trail down, fingers catching on the material of his shirt a few times until its at the base of his spine, pressing. His other hand is on Matt’s neck, fingers curled and thumb brushing against his jawline. There’s a thin, prickly layer of facial hair there and for a second, the unfamiliar sensation surprises Sebastian. He pulls away from the kiss, just for a second, and then sees the way that Matt’s lips stay parted and his eyes are squeezed shut, and Sebastian doesn’t give a single fuck if it’s weird or unfamiliar or not what he thinks he wants. He surges upward, catching Matt’s upper lip between his own, and he doesn't care about anything but seeing what other noises he can coax out of him.

Matt keeps up the featherlike pressure of his rotating hips, tongue and lips working in tandem against Sebastian’s as they both gasp and groan against one another. It’s too much and nowhere near enough and Sebastian is half a second away from losing his goddamn mind when he wraps his arm around Matt’s waist and pulls him down.

His ass lands on Sebastian’s lap, no longer hesitating just above him in the air, but pressing hard. They slot against one another, the hard lines of their bodies jutting together like puzzle pieces.

The breath gets knocked out of Sebastian’s lungs.

His eyes squeeze shut, and bright lights dance across his blackened vision. The pleasure radiating up his spine, through his nerves, across his whole body is a mind-crushing, life-altering, world-peace level thrill.

He opens his eyes, blinking, when he realizes that he’s thrown his head back away from Matt’s lips. The back of his head hits the top of the couch, and his hands had fallen at some point to grip tight at Matt’s thighs.

Matt watches him with wide eyes and parted lips, breathing heavily, his gaze dark and tracking. His hips are moving in light circles. They’re slow, though, the kind that drag, causing their clothes to catch and shudders to wrack through them both as they stare at each other, barely touching, barely present.

Sebastian has heat in his stomach so blinding that if his nails weren’t digging into the denim clad thighs on top of his, he’d be half a second from passing out. Each time the hard, sharp lines of Matt’s body drag against him—each time their cocks brush, layers of clothes and a universe away, Sebastian struggles to keep his eyes open and the fire contained.

“Sebastian,” Matt says, and his voice is a thousand times hotter than even Sebastian’s skin is. It’s low and heavy, like he’s been chewing on gravel, like he’s been ruined. His name has never sounded half as good as it does tumbling from between Matt’s swollen lips, and Sebastian’s cock throbs, his hips lifting of their own accord for something, some sort of pressure or friction. He wants to hear Matt speak again.

Matt pushes down harder and his hands go to Sebastian’s shoulders, his own nails grabbing purchase there and Sebastian lets out a string of curses. “Shit, oh, okay, goddamn. Don’t stop.”

Matt lets out a breathy sound, caught halfway between a moan and a laugh. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sebastian nods, fast, a bit desperate. He feels out of his mind. He feels out of his life. The only thing that feels real is his body and the terrible, throbbing ache it’s going through.

“What do you want?” Matt asks, dipping his head lower, running his tongue across the shell of Sebastian’s ear. His voice is soft there, but deep and full of something other than tone. It’s full of promises and threats and something like lightning. “Tell me.”

“Shit, fuck. I don’t know.” He’s going crazy, going absolutely mad with the uncertain anticipation inside of his body. All of his limbs are taut and aching.

Matt’s lips move lower and his tongue marks an elaborate path down his jaw and neck, hard, sucking kisses followed by gentle laps of his tongue interspersed with little praises while Sebastian curses and pleads. When Matt’s lips wrap around a soft piece of skin on his neck, sucking a bruising mark into the pale, thin skin there, he melts into the couch completely and forgets everything except for please, there, and Matt. His hands tighten and smooth against Matt’s thighs, gripping hard at his hip, fingertips trailing across the smooth skin that’s exposed between his t-shirt and jeans. His hands are everywhere and nowhere and he wants to feel everything all at once.

Sebastian lifts his hips again and again, meeting Matt halfway as he grinds down, again and again and again, until stars are shooting across his vision. Sebastian doesn’t know if he’s screaming or breathing or even still alive because, god, he had no idea a person could feel like this, could feel so ruined and whole, all at once.

He comes with a strangled gasp, everything stilling. The feeling inside of him flares up, claims him completely, bathing him in the warmest, softest heat. His body falls and falls and falls, but instead of crashing, he’s caught.

His heart races and with extreme effort, Sebastian forces himself to open his eyes. His head is lolling on the back of the couch, his hands fallen to the side, though one clutches to one of Matt’s, his legs jello beneath Matt’s body.

Matt stares at him like he’s seen something rapturous.

His eyes are blown black and his lips are pulled apart and up, a shocked smile spreading his expression. His hair stands practically straight up and his chest heaves up and down.

From the few nerve endings in his spent body still working, Sebastian realizes that he can still feel Matt’s hard, hot cock against his leg. He doesn’t know what embarrasses him more: that he came in his pants after just a little dry rutting like a teenager, or what he’ll need to do to help Matt out.

His face burns.

Matt tilts his head, and his smile softens to something unreadable. His eyes crinkle around the corner and he looks younger, like the years of standing straight at the front of a class and ignoring bullies in the hallway have melted away.

Sebastian doesn’t think when his thumb starts to stroke Matt’s knuckles, their hands still intertwined by his own doing. He doesn’t let himself worry about it. Not when it keeps that really nice expression on Matt’s face.

He’s exhausted in such a pleasant way that he’s half convinced falling asleep right here, Matt’s body pressing him into his couch, is the best idea he’s ever had.

They stare at each other until Sebastian’s heart rate finally settles, his lungs not working as hard to pump air through his body. The longer they sit, just looking at each other, the more Sebastian’s head starts to feel screwed on and the weight of what they’ve just done starts to press down on him.

He swallows around a growing lump in his throat. Matt cocks his head the other way. “Are you all right?”

Sebastian’s heart starts pounding again. “Should—should I?” he gestures, helplessly.

To his surprise, Matt rolls his eyes. It almost stings but he’s still smiling, still soft. “That’s okay,” Matt says. “Don’t want to fry your brain.”

Sebastian huffs out a surprised laugh. “Might be too late for that.”

Matt’s smile turns to a grin. “Well, what can I say? I’m a good kisser.”

He rolls off of Sebastian’s body, settling next to him on the couch. Sebastian watches as he tries to situate himself in his jeans, awkwardly.

Sebastian clears his throat. “I—are you sure? I could, I don’t know. Something.”

Matt shakes his head. “It’s okay, Seb.”

Sebastian’s spine tingles. He thought it’d be a while before his body had another physical reaction, considering all the energy he’d expended on the last one. But a nickname—it curls comfortably in the base of his stomach.

“Doesn’t seem fair,” he mutters. He’s not sure why he’s fighting this so much—he doesn’t want to do that with another guy. He doesn’t. But it’s just—disappointment tastes bitter on his tongue and he thinks, well, it’s not fair.

Matt looks him up and down. “Raincheck?”

“Raincheck,” Sebastian decides he’s going to pretend like he didn’t answer that quickly or eagerly.

Based off of Matt’s grin, he might not follow that pact, though.

“You should probably change,” Matt smirks, coughing behind his fist as if it hides the laugh he lets out. “And I should probably go.”

Now that he’s mentioned it, Sebastian can feel the uncomfortable, gross stick of his clothes. He grimaces, but when Matt starts to stand up, his arm shoots out and he grabs Matt’s hand. Their fingers brushing gives Sebastian the smallest of thrills, one that he tucks away next to the happiness of the nickname to worry about later.

“Let’s—lunch.” He blurts out when he realizes he hadn’t planned anything to say.

Matt quirks an eyebrow. “Let’s lunch?”

Well, go with it. Sebastian thinks. “Yeah. Let’s lunch.”

Matt licks his lips. It’s distracting, and Sebastian thinks a little rude. “Where?”

“Amelia’s?”

“Closed for the wedding.”

“The coffee shop?”

Matt cocks his head. “By the station?”

“Yeah. I get break at around one.”

Matt looks at him for a second. It’s a searching look that Sebastian thinks is on a pass/fail grade. He tries hard not to fidget or wonder what it is Matt is looking for.

After a brief moment, he nods to himself. “I’ll see you at one.”

Sebastian’s heart skips a beat, and he can’t help the wildly happy grin that spreads. He doesn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed by how disappointed he is when Matt slips out of the door without touching him again or grossed out at himself when he changes. He can’t shake the feeling of elation, even as he showers, even as he answers a worried call from the rookie Sandra about the filing system and as he gets ready for bed. He can’t shake the feeling of elation because for the first time in a long time—maybe in longer than a long time, maybe in forever—Sebastian really does feel elated.

Sebastian gets there ten minutes early, begging off for a long lunch. Carlisle raises his eyebrows, but in usual Sam Carlisle fashion, says nothing, just nodding sharply once. He’s a cool guy, even if he is a little scary when he’s not talking about his kids.

Excitement bubbles beneath his skin. Right underneath his collar, where anyone could see if he shifted the wrong way, is a dark blue and red bruise, the sharp shape of Matt’s mouth. He couldn’t help pressing his thumb to it throughout the night and the day, feeling the soft give and gentle nudge of pain that reminded him someone was there—Matt was there.

His spine tingles. He tries to hide some of the eagerness he has for lunch.

The coffee shop is mostly empty, even though it’s lunch time, and thankfully—or maybe, unfortunately—it’s Vic at the register.

“Seb!” Vic yells out, startling one of his few customers so badly that she spills coffee down her arm. “Oops, sorry, Valerie.”

The girl grumbles and continues on her way to a booth in the back. Vic and Sebastian both shrug.

“What are you doing here?”

“Lunch,” he answers.

Vic raises an eyebrow. “Since when do you leave your desk long enough to eat lunch not hunched over a case file?”

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “I’m not that bad.”

“Please. If your mom and Clarissa didn’t bully you, I don’t think you’d ever leave the station.”

“Shut up.”

“You’d just spend day and night there. Get a little cot in the back, start taking a wet wipe Whore’s Bath so you could stay—”

Sebastian sighs. “Are you done?”

Grinning, Vic holds up a finger. “Not quite. You’d stay there all day, every day, and then you’d die there.”

“Hey!”

“Don’t worry, you were very old. Lived a good life in your bullpen. But then we hold the funeral at an actual cemetery, you know, to respect your mom and sister—”

“Oh, Mom’s still alive, but I died of old age.”

“Hey, you want me to off your mom? Don’t be an asshole, I like your mother.”

“What? I like my mother, too, I didn’t say off her—”

“But your spirit is so mad we moved you from the station that you end up haunting the place. Full on poltergeist.”

“Is that so?” Sebastian struggles not to laugh. He shouldn’t encourage the guy.

“Yeah, it’s really sad. You need to get out more, man,” Vic leans across the counter to clap Sebastian on the shoulder a few times.

“You are such an ass—”

“Um, sorry, am I—interrupting?” Sebastian spins at Matt’s voice, hesitant and just a few feet behind him.

He spills into the space between them, crowding his personal space almost instantly. It’s embarrassing, and Sebastian actively forces himself to correct himself, taking a few steps backwards and back towards the counter.

“Hey, no. Hey, buddy.”

Matt smiles. It’s not as big or bright as it was last night but instead just a small quirk on one side of his face. It’s more in his eyes. They really are a nice brown. “Hello.”

“Hey, Matt,” Vic says, interrupting their moment. Sebastian’s cheeks burn, and he turns to look back at his friend. Vic furrows his eyebrows at Sebastian’s blush, and Sebastian tries hard not to fidget.

“Vic,” Matt nods to him before turning back to Sebastian. “Have you ordered yet?”

“Ah, you guys getting lunch together?” Vic asks, entirely unnecessarily.

Sebastian nearly glares at him. “Yes,” he says before glancing at Matt. “No, not yet.”

Matt nods, looking around. “It’s different.”

“When was the last time you were here?” Sebastian asks. Vic leans against the counter and Sebastian wants to ignore him.

“Oh. Hmm.” Matt tilts his head, frowning. “Must’ve been senior year of high school.”

“A while ago,” Sebastian comments.

Matt nods, still glancing around. “A lifetime.”

He watches Matt, the way his eyes are sharp and taking everything in. He looks calculated and smart, even just in the way he looks around at stuff. He looks like he’s gathering information, like everything he sees and hears might be important.

It makes Sebastian itch to have Matt’s gaze on him and see if it feels the same.

“What do you recommend?” Matt asks after a moment, eyes stuck on the menu hanging on the wall.

Vic jumps in before Sebastian can. “First timers, which you basically are, I recommend the Trial Run.”

“Trial Run?” Matt repeats, glancing at Sebastian as if to ask if he’s understood him correctly.

Sebastian flusters. “Yeah, that’s good. It’s like their best selling items. The grilled cheese, a lemonade, and some cake.”

“And a half smoothie,” Vic adds. “We just put that on the menu this week.”

“She went ahead with it?” Sebastian rolls his eyes.

“You know she did,” Vic shakes his head.

Matt offers him another one of those small, half smiles. “That sounds good,” he says. “I’ll do that.”

“Me, too.” Sebastian says, quickly. He pulls out his wallet and waves Matt off when he pulls out his own wallet. He punctuates it with a sharp slap of his hand when the waving away doesn’t work.

“I’ll bring that out to you two,” Vic says slowly, looking between them.

Sebastian lifts his chin, straightening his shoulders, and pretends like he’s not blushing. “Thank you.”

There’s an empty booth over by the door, next to the large window, and Matt follows Sebastian’s gaze and answers his one shouldered shrug by walking over there and sliding into one side.

Sebastian goes to the other side and settles across from him.

“Hey,” he says.

Matt smiles. It’s a little wider, a little more open. “Hello.”

“Thanks for coming,” Sebastian scratches behind his ear, accidentally running a finger across the shell of it. It makes his skin tingle, remembering the way Matt’s tongue felt doing the same thing.

His body shudders. He’s having a hard time not letting his hand drop to the bruise right by his collarbone, the one that Matt gave him.

“Of course,” Matt says. He frowns a little, but before Sebastian can ask, it wipes away. Then he asks, slowly and hesitantly, “How’re you doing?”

Sebastian cocks his head. “Um, good, thanks. You?”

Matt tilts his head. “Oh, well. Good.”

“Good,” Sebastian grins. He leans forward on the table, propping his head on his hand. “How was your night?”

Matt looks behind his shoulder and then back to Sebastian. He narrows his eyes and then, after a moment, smirks. “Frustrating.”

Sebastian’s breath rushes out of his mouth. He coughs, choking on the air, and Matt throws his head back, laughing.

“Dude, you okay?” Vic sets the lemonades down quickly, putting one hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. Sebastian struggles to stop coughing while Matt decidedly does not struggle to not laugh.

“He’s fine,” Matt says dismissively. He picks up one of the glasses and puts the straw between his lips, sucking. He sets it back down and hums. “This is good.”

“Thanks,” Vic says.

Sebastian drains half his own glass of admittedly very good lemonade in his efforts to breathe again. “Ass.”

Matt winks from behind Vic’s shoulder, who has turned to look at Sebastian with surprise.

“I’ll bring you some more when your food is ready,” Vic says before darting away. A few more customers are trailing in and there won’t be any time for Vic to chat if the line keeps up its pace.

Sebastian considers being disappointed, but even the consideration feels fake, so he brushes it aside and sets his glare on Matt.

“That was—” he stops, unsure.

Matt bites his bottom lip before letting it pop away, his smile broad. “Honest?”

“Rude,” Sebastian corrects. “I was going to say rude.”

“Sorry,” he says. He takes another sip of his lemonade, and Sebastian struggles to keep his own face closer to happy than delighted. “How is work today?”

“Slow,” Sebastian says.

“That’s good. It’s hard to want the local sheriff’s station to have a busy day,” Matt folds his hands on the table.

Sebastian lets out a little surprised laugh. “That’s what my mom always says.”

“Smart woman,” Matt remarks.

“Very,” Sebastian agrees.

Matt quirks an eyebrow. “Momma’s boy?”

“Shut up,” he doesn’t even try to deny it.

Matt nods. “All right, then.”

He wracks his brain, trying to think of anything to tell Matt about his day.

“Oh!” Sebastian snaps his fingers. “Bishop came in and did his statement. After talking to Carlisle, he dropped the charges.”

“Oh, good,” Matt murmurs. “Wait, Carlisle?”

“Yeah, he’s a deputy.”

“Tom Carlisle?” Matt asks, frowning.

Sebastian shakes his head. “Sam. I think Tom’s his kid brother.”

“Oh,” Matt nods. “That makes sense.”

Vic comes back with their grilled cheeses and lemonades. “Smoothie and cake are coming,” he says, half of it garbled as he strides away quickly.

Matt looks down at the sandwiches. “They look nice.”

“They are,” Sebastian says. “Not the best, but they’ve been using some sort of tomato and fig jam lately. Super recommend.”

Matt glances up at him, amused. “Well, all right, then.”

“How was your day?” Sebastian asks before biting into the sandwich.

Matt hums around his own bite, chewing quickly before answering. “It was good, thank you. I’ve just been with my brothers.”

“How are they?”

“Frustrating,” Matt grumbles, then looks up, locking eyes. “In an obviously very different way.”

Sebastian blushes again but this time does not choke. “Why are they frustrating?”

“Neither are willing to come to the wedding with me,” he explains, picking at his sandwich with one hand, the other curling around his lemonade glass. “The main people I will know there are either in the wedding party or very near to and will be quite busy. I was hoping one of my brothers would accept the plus one I RSVP’d for.”

Sebastian frowns, drumming his fingers on the table. “Why did you RSVP for a plus one?”

Matt huffs. “At the time, I was in a new relationship. I assumed—or at least, naively hoped, I suppose—that it would be a safe bet to accept the plus one.”

“Oh, right.” Sebastian’s collar feels too tight and he tugs on it a little.

Matt continues without noticing that Sebastian has started to sweat. “My mother is insisting on setting me up on a blind date now, which I’ve repeatedly told her is the absolute worst case scenario, but that woman is a force to be reckoned with.”

Sebastian faintly remembers Mrs. Collins from church. He believes that about her.

“I could go with you.”

The words are out before he has time to think about them. Matt blinks up at him, surprised.

“That’s nice,” he says slowly. “But entirely unnecessary.”

“I wouldn’t mind.” His heart hammers a bit in his chest. There’s an undercurrent of what the hell are you doing but he hears that pretty much any time he’s with Matt at this point, so it’s easy enough to ignore.

“My mother would never allow me to bring a friend at this point,” he sighs. “She’s already got it in her head.”

“We could go as dates.”

Matt blinks at him. This time, he doesn't say anything. He just gapes at Sebastian and, honestly, Sebastian would be gaping at himself, too.

He rushes to try to make it less weird. “I mean, fake dates. We could tell people we’re dating and that I’m your—your date or boyfriend or whatever. It’d get your mom off your back and we could just drink beer and, you know, hang out.”

Matt’s hands have fallen into his lap and he stares at Sebastian with that hard, all knowing look. He’s searching for something, seeing things that Sebastian doesn’t know or even know how to look for, and it stings and soothes all at the same time.

“Fake dating,” he repeats, slowly.

Sebastian feels a little woozy. He nods. “Yeah. Just, you know, while you’re home.”

“It would—” Matt clears his throat. “It would make things easier.”

Sebastian tries not to perk up too much, tries not to get bogged down with his thoughts and worries and excitement. “So. Fake boyfriends?”

He lifts his lemonade glass and swallows hard around the lump there, hand shaking a little.

After an immeasurable moment, Matt shakes his head, sighing. “Good Lord, all right.” Matt lifts his glass and clinks it with Sebastian’s. “Fake boyfriends.”