"Damn, you're hard to resist when you're naked."

Clay looked up from where he was striping his clothes to get into the shower to see Sam had turned, leaning with his back against the sink, toothbrush in hand and foam in his mouth.

Clay laughed, flexing his muscles and turning around to treat Sam with a special view of his high, tight buttcheeks. "Oh yeah? Stop drooling or you'll get toothpaste down your shirt, and hurry up or you'll miss your bus. I'II do your house cleaning for you once I'm done with my chapter update."

"Thanks a bunch." Sam smiled and turned back to bend his huge frame low to spit in the sink.

It was a Monday morning, and Sam was running late to work as usual. Clay watched him rinse and spit again, then put his toothbrush in the holder next to Clay's. Sam had finally brought one over last week, a few days after his spectacular performance in the Sunday football match. It made sense given that Clay's abode was more or less Sam's now.

After that Sunday, Sam had gone home less and less often. Clay liked to see his toothbrush standing there next to his on the now-rare nights when Sam insisted on sleeping at his own apartment. Clay missed him when he wasn't there, and the toothbrush was a reminder that he'd always come back.

Clay would be more than thrilled to have Sam there every night of his life if he was honest with himself. His dreams were sweeter and calmer when he slept with Sam in his bed, and it felt too big and empty when Sam wasn't there.

Clay was now absolutely sure that what he felt for Sam had gone far beyond any sorts of experiment/friends-with-benefits label.

He was no relationship expert, but he was practically sure that living and spending most of your spare time with someone meant the relationship could no longer fit in the 'casual' category.

But they still hadn't confronted each other about it, and Clay just couldn't bring himself to bring up the topic.

They sauntered back into the bedroom, and Sam rummaged in the cardboard box in the corner that had become his clothes/spare underwear/sock and other personal belonging dump ever since he'd migrated to Clay's place over the past few weeks.

Two and a half months, Clay reminded himself that was the amount of time they'd been seeing each other. He'd worked it out in an interview the other day when he should've been paying attention to the young man briefing him on the tenets of his job but instead, he'd been dreaming about how hot Sam looked moaning out his name.

He still hadn't told Sam about his job yet but planned to do so when they went out for dinner later.

"What have you got going on for you today?" Sam asked as he pulled his pants on and fastened his belt.

"After I'm done cleaning and writing, I've made plans to go see Tina," Clay replied, draping a towel round his torso. He stood watching and admiring the way Sam's biceps flexed as the blond pulled on his socks. "She called to say she had accidentally taken a few bunches of my gay men pamphlets the last time she came, and she also invited me over for lunch."

It would be the first time Clay would be visiting her at her place after the split. He'd intended to make more of an effort to keep in touch and quell the awkwardness between them but had been so busy with his writing updates and job seeking adventures and then with Sam that it hadn't happened. Tina hadn't made much of an effort to reach out as well these past few weeks since she last visited. She'd always be the first to view his status on WhatsApp and the odd comment on a Facebook post a few days ago, but they hadn't caught up in weeks. Clay assumed that maybe she'd lost herself in her work and needed a bit of distance to better adjust to things and he'd missed her greatly despite his blissful relationship with Sam. Tina knew him better than anyone; she knew all his secrets and emotions too.

"You'd be back in time for dinner, right?" Sam asked, grinning ruefully.

He stood, now fully dressed and ready to leave, and put his arms around Clay's waist, loosening the towel fabric to grope his arse. The rough material of Sam's pants scraped over Clay's belly as Sam kissed him. Clay's cock rose for him, a response to the firm grasp of Sam's hands on his buttocks and the slick wetness of his tongue.

Sam finally pulled back and smirked conspiratorially, one hand reaching out to push the foreskin of Clay's dick back and better circulate the precum over the head. “I love how easy it is for me to turn you on."

"Jerk." Clay swatted his hands, ducking to let his eyes fall over his eyes as his cheeks heated up. He could never get used to the helpless reaction of his body to Sam's touch even if he tried.

"I'll call you when I get back from Tina's place." Clay offered. He wouldn't miss eating out and post-dinner sex with Sam even if it meant him staying home all day instead of going over to Tina's.

"Okay." Sam grinned, equally looking forward to their evening together as well. He was easier to read in that aspect. He might not be able to come clean about his feelings, but he didn't seem to make much attempt to hide the obvious pleasure he took in Clay's company. Clay just wished he knew exactly what was going on in his head. "I'd better get going and leave you to shower." Sam took Clay's chin in his grip and tilted it up for a last, prolonged kiss that lasted for five minutes. "See you tonight, babe."

"You too, handsome." Clay blushed at his retreating back. It was alarming how magical everything felt when Sam was around.