---
By Saturday, they were both unraveling.
All week, Scott couldn't focus on anything. Not homework, not lunch with the guys, not the constant, casual touches that made him flinch now because none of them were Brian.
Every minute he was apart from him felt like a lie waiting to catch fire.
Brian felt it too — the burn in his chest every time he caught Scott's eyes in the hallway, the flash of that kiss when he closed his eyes at night, the taste of Scott's skin still lingering on his lips.
He told himself to stop.
He told himself "Protect it. Protect him. Protect yourself."
But by Saturday night, the craving won.
---
Scott was sitting on the floor of his bedroom, notebook in his lap, trying to write about the Civil War and failing miserably. All he could think about was Brian's mouth, Brian's body pressing him into the wrestling mat, Brian's voice when he'd whispered "You're so perfect."
His phone buzzed on the carpet. One word lit up the screen: "Outside."
Scott's heart slammed so hard he thought it might bruise his ribs.
---
He found Brian standing under the oak tree, hoodie up, dark hair damp from the misting rain.
His eyes — amber and molten under the streetlight — locked on Scott's with that same look that made Scott feel stripped bare.
"You wanna run away?" Brian asked, voice low and rough.
Scott grinned — pulse racing, chest aching. "With you? Always."
---
They drove with the windows cracked just enough to let the cool night air swirl around them, laughing like idiots, hands brushing over the gear shift. Brian took him to the family lake house — the one nobody used after summer.
It smelled like cedar and old firewood and freedom.
The second Brian kicked the door shut, Scott's back hit it, and Brian's mouth was on his.
It wasn't slow. It wasn't careful.
It was two weeks of tension exploding in one long, dirty kiss — teeth clashing, tongues fighting for space, Brian's big hands fisting in Scott's hair until they both had to break for air.
---
"Bedroom. Now," Brian growled, voice thick with want.
Scott barely had time to kick off his shoes before Brian dragged him down the dark hallway, every step clumsy and breathless as they fought with each other's clothes. Scott's sweater landed on the stairs. Brian's hoodie hit the floor halfway to the master bedroom.
By the time they tumbled onto the old king bed, they were half-naked, flushed, trembling.
---
Brian hovered over him — strong thighs bracketing Scott's hips, broad shoulders blocking out the moonlight streaming through the curtains.
His hands traced down Scott's ribs, thumb brushing the soft skin just above his waistband. His eyes flicked up — dark, desperate — searching Scott's face for even a flicker of doubt.
"Tell me to stop," Brian whispered. "If you want me to stop, tell me now."
Scott grabbed his jaw, pulled him down, kissed him hard. "Don't you fucking dare."
---
They tore the last of their clothes off like they'd catch fire if they didn't — skin on skin, hot and slick. Brian's chest pressed Scott into the mattress, all heavy muscle and heat that made Scott dizzy.
"God, you feel good," Scott breathed, nails scraping down Brian's back.
Brian groaned — low and broken — burying his face in the crook of Scott's neck, breathing him in like he needed air.
He kissed his throat, bit his collarbone, sucked marks onto his chest that made Scott gasp.
"You're mine tonight," Brian murmured against his skin. "Nobody else gets this — just you."
---
When Brian pushed inside — slow but deep, stretching him open until Scott's eyes rolled back — they both swore in unison. Scott's legs wrapped around Brian's waist, heels digging into his back to drag him closer, deeper.
They moved together — hips rolling, bodies sliding against each other, every drag of Brian's mouth over Scott's lips making him moan louder.
The headboard tapped the wall with every thrust. The air filled with the sound of skin on skin, ragged breathing, whispered curses that got swallowed into desperate kisses.
"Fuck — you feel so good —" Brian's voice cracked as he slammed deeper.
"Don't stop — please, Brian —" Scott gasped, fingernails digging crescents into Brian's shoulder blades.
---
They broke apart just long enough to look each other in the eyes — sweat dripping down Brian's temple, his hair a mess, his teeth catching his bottom lip as he fought to hold back.
"You're gonna make me— fuck — Scott—"
Scott pulled him back down, mouths crashing together as they came — bodies jerking, gasps and groans echoing in the empty house. It was raw and messy and so painfully real.
---
When it was over, Brian collapsed on top of him, still buried deep, their chests heaving in sync.
He kissed Scott's throat, soft this time — a ghost of the heat they'd just shared — then dragged his lips to his ear.
"I don't know how I'm gonna keep hiding this," Brian murmured, voice rough. "Hiding you."
Scott just smiled — eyes half-closed, fingers tracing lazy circles on Brian's sweaty back.
"Maybe you won't have to," he whispered.
For now, though, they stayed like that — two boys tangled together in a dark lake house, locked doors all around them, the world outside be damned.
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