Toby let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He closed his textbook, the diagrams of cells forgotten. For the first time, the story everyone else had written for them didn’t matter. They were writing their own, one quiet Friday night at a time.
“Thinking so loud I can’t focus.” Leo leaned in, the gap between their shoulders disappearing. “It’s Friday night, Tobes. The game is in an hour. Why are we here?” gay teen orgy sex
“And I have a game. But I’d rather be here.” Leo’s hand moved on the table, his pinky finger just barely brushing Toby’s. Toby let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding
Leo didn't pull away. Instead, he hooked his finger around Toby’s, anchoring them together. “Let them wonder. I’m tired of being where I’m ‘supposed’ to be. I like being where I want to be.” They were writing their own, one quiet Friday
The air in the library smelled like old paper and the citrus gum Leo always chewed. Toby kept his eyes glued to his biology textbook, but he wasn’t reading about mitosis; he was counting how many times Leo tapped his highlighter against the desk. Three taps. A pause. Two taps.
“You’re doing it again,” Leo whispered, a lopsided grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“I have a test Monday,” Toby said, his voice steadier than he felt.