Jock Next Bed (BL)
Chapter 220: For a while...

Chapter 220: For a while...

Sky did not take off his shirt. Obviously.

He dipped one foot in—and blinked.

"It’s warm," he murmured.

"Told you," Chris said, breathless and beaming.

Sky looked around. The pool was open, and though it was late, the neighboring houses weren’t far off. He could hear faint music from one, the soft clink of plates from another. The stars were faintly visible above, quiet and unbothered. A breeze passed over, smelling faintly of garden and chlorine.

Chris was watching him now, chin resting on his arm at the edge of the pool. His eyes were playful, encouraging. Water clung to his lashes, his cheeks. His hair was pushed back messily, and he blinked water from his eyes like a puppy shaking off rain.

Sky just... looked.

Didn’t say anything. Didn’t blink. Just stood there with one foot in and stared at him like he was watching something he wasn’t sure he was allowed to want.

Chris finally noticed and tilted his head. "What?"

Sky blinked slowly. "Nothing."

He stepped in.

Chris’s gaze dipped for a moment—to the way Sky’s wet t-shirt clung to his chest, to the way a drop of water slid slowly down his jaw. He shifted, not entirely trusting his limbs anymore.

"You know," Chris said quietly, "I’ve never actually... had anyone stay over here."

Sky blinked at him, tilting his head slightly. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I’ve come here a lot, yeah. Alone. Or sometimes for family things. But never like... just me. With someone. Never did the private pool hangout thing or any of this."

Sky stared at him for a long second, his expression unreadable. Then he glanced down, like he didn’t want Chris to see the way his lips twitched.

His fingers rose to brush his damp hair back from his face. "So I’m the first one?"

Chris nodded once. "Yeah."

Sky gave the softest, almost imperceptible smile. "Okay," he murmured, like it meant something more than it sounded.

And just like that, something shifted. Not dramatically, not all at once—but quietly, like a new current underneath the water.

Chris watched him—watched the curve of his lips, the way he looked down and then up again through his lashes. There was no way in hell he could resist that.

Chris’s breath caught—not because Sky moved fast, but because he didn’t hesitate. There was no second-guessing, no nerves. Just quiet confidence in the way he closed the space between them, water curling gently around his arms.

Chris blinked, only just processing how close they were. He could see the droplets clinging to Sky’s lashes. The faint rise and fall of his chest. He could feel the shift in the water where their knees brushed, weightless.

"You swim pretty well for someone who doesn’t swim," Chris murmured.

Sky gave a soft snort, but his gaze didn’t waver. "I said I usually don’t. Doesn’t mean I can’t."

Chris’s lips parted, a quiet retort dying on his tongue. Sky’s fingers moved—slow, intentional—as they reached up and tucked a stray strand of Chris’s wet hair behind his ear.

Chris’s heart hammered. "What... are you doing?"

Didn’t he just tell him he was easily seduced and didn’t need... this?

Chris hadn’t expected Sky’s voice to tremble, but when he quietly said, "Thank you... for coming to our school out of all the schools in the world," it did.

Chris turned to look at him, heart tugging. The pool light glowed faintly on Sky’s skin, catching on the curve of his jaw, the tips of his lashes, the gentle ripple of water around them.

He smiled, but it was faint. "I don’t think you’d have said this from the first month we knew each other."

Sky gave a small laugh and shook his head. His eyes flickered down. "That’s not... true."

Sky was hesitant. There was something there that he wasn’t saying. And Chris... he was curious.

Chris let that linger in the quiet between them before speaking again, his voice lower now, almost hesitant. "So... how long was I bothering you in your head?"

Sky didn’t answer. Not immediately. His eyes met Chris’s for a flicker of a second before he drifted forward, slowly, water parting between them with soft ripples.

Chris’s breath hitched as Sky leaned in, close enough to feel the whisper of his words if he spoke—but he didn’t speak.

Instead, he kissed him.

Soft. Warm. Sure.

And in that moment, Sky thought: For a while.

He remembered the first time he saw his roommate—like a flash burned into memory. Chris, stepping into their room, fresh from the shower, towel slung around his shoulders, hair damp, glancing around like they were the ones being evaluated.

Sky had gone still.

He’d recognized the face instantly. The same guy from the cafe earlier—the one with a girl he didn’t like.

Sky had previously promised his friends that he’d be civil with his new roommate. Try to live peacefully. Maybe even be friendly. That was why he had done his best to make the Chris guy, whoever he was like him even before they met.

But the second Chris had stepped through that door, taken in the room, and locked eyes with him...

Sky had texted in their group chat, "Taking it back. We won’t fit."

His friends had checked the message immediately and looked amused.

Chris had looked annoyed. Probably thought they were talking about him, which... they were. But not for the reason Chris was probably thinking. But Sky hadn’t meant it as a joke to his friends.

Because something in him—instinctive and wild—had known: if he stayed close to Chris, he’d unravel.

So he kept his distance. Until he didn’t.

Until he was inviting Chris out. Following him around. Showing up where he might be. Trying so hard to even get him to be a member at the gym by asking him to take up sports. Or offering to be his ’guide’ so he would get on the Dean’s list.

He continued lingering around. Until he knew he would ruin anyone who tried to come between them.

Thankfully, Mei was there to keep him in check. She always called him. He always called her.

Even on that night where Chris had woken up to find him crying. He had been texting her. Letting her know how hard it was. How he wanted to stop but could not stop.

He didn’t stalk. But he almost did.

He even bought the black hat and everything. He was insane.

But now... they were here.

Chest to chest, water between them, history behind them, kiss holding everything that couldn’t be said.

For some reason, he was proud of himself. For being a persistent motherfucker.

The kiss deepened just slightly, then softened again, like neither of them wanted to overwhelm the moment. Sky’s hands hovered awkwardly in the water, unsure where to land, unsure if they even should. His heart was drumming so loud in his ears that it was almost hard to breathe, but he didn’t pull away. He just... held still, eyes closed, lips resting against Chris’s for a long beat after the kiss ended.

When he finally opened his eyes, Chris was already watching him. Gently. Like he was trying to figure out if Sky was okay.

Sky’s throat tightened. He wanted to touch him. He did. But something kept freezing in him every time he tried.

Chris didn’t rush him. Instead, he said quietly, "I know." Then he reached down, found Sky’s hand underwater, and lifted it slowly.

Sky let him.

Chris guided his hand up—hesitant, careful—and placed it gently on his own chest. His skin was warm beneath Sky’s palm. His heartbeat steady. Lies. It was unsteady.

"This okay?" Chris asked, barely above a whisper.

Sky nodded. His fingers stayed still at first, like he was afraid any movement would shatter the moment. But then he slowly spread his hand wider, letting his thumb trace along the smooth heat of Chris’s chest, just lightly, like he was learning the shape of something sacred.

Chris let out a soft breath.

Sky looked up at him again, more vulnerable now than he’d ever allowed himself to be.

Then the intercom rang.

Dinner was ready.