Matthew lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.
He had kicked off the sheets, turned the pillow over, even tried counting down from a hundred—nothing worked. His mind was racing, his body was restless, and no matter how much he tried to ignore it, the reason was painfully obvious.
Vinny.
That damn bastard was on his couch, probably sleeping without a care in the world while Matthew was here, losing his mind.
He exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. This was stupid. He wasn't some desperate idiot who couldn't handle a little teasing. But his body burned with the memory of Vinny's breath against his ear, the way he had said mine like it was an undeniable fact.
It had been a joke. A taunt.
So why the hell did it feel like a claim?
Matthew turned onto his side, scowling at the empty space beside him.
He hated how cold it felt.
The thought crept in before he could stop it: If Vinny was here, it wouldn't be cold.
He clenched his jaw. No. He wasn't going to entertain that thought.
But his body wasn't listening.
He threw the covers off and swung his legs over the bed, running a frustrated hand through his hair. The apartment was quiet—too quiet. The club's noise had been a distraction, but now, in the silence of his room, all he could hear was the steady rhythm of his own heartbeat.
And it was beating way too damn fast.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he got up.
He barely hesitated before stepping into the dimly lit living room. Vinny was sprawled on the couch, one arm draped lazily over his stomach, his shirt slightly ridden up. His breathing was even, lips slightly parted.
Matthew should turn around.
He should go back to bed.
Instead, he took a step closer.
Another.
He stood over Vinny now, staring down at him, feeling like an absolute idiot.
Then, before he could stop himself, he reached out.
His fingers brushed against Vinny's cheek—just for a second. Just to prove to himself that there was nothing there. That this wasn't some ridiculous craving.
But the moment his skin made contact, Vinny stirred.
His lashes fluttered, his head tilting slightly into Matthew's touch, and then—
"You really can't sleep without me, huh?"
Matthew's breath caught.
Vinny's voice was rough with sleep, but the amusement was there.
Slowly, he cracked one eye open, and his lips curled into a lazy smirk. "Didn't think you'd actually miss me."
Matthew should pull away.
He should shut this down.
But his body had other plans.
Instead of retreating, his thumb grazed Vinny's jaw, slow and deliberate. "Shut up."
Vinny chuckled, his voice a low murmur. "Make me."
That was it. That was the final push.
Matthew grabbed Vinny's collar and yanked him forward. Their mouths crashed together in a messy, heated kiss, all tension and frustration and something dangerously close to need.
Vinny groaned into it, fingers curling into Matthew's shirt, pulling him down, closer, deeper.
Matthew wasn't gentle. He bit at Vinny's lower lip, swallowed the sharp inhale it earned him, then pressed him back into the couch, shifting to straddle his waist.
Vinny's hands found his hips, gripping tight. "Damn, lover boy, finally admitting it?"
Matthew's response was another kiss—harder, more desperate.
Vinny laughed against his lips. "You really do like hearing it, huh?"
Matthew's grip tightened on Vinny's jaw, forcing their eyes to meet.
"Say it." His voice was low, rough.
Vinny grinned. "Say what, Matthew?"
Matthew's patience snapped. His fingers trailed down Vinny's chest, teasing, not quite giving in.
Vinny sucked in a breath, his smirk faltering just slightly.
Matthew leaned down, lips brushing against Vinny's ear. "Say it."
Vinny exhaled shakily. Then, with a lazy, knowing smirk—
"You're mine."
Matthew broke.
The kiss that followed was raw, consuming.
And for the first time, Matthew didn't try to fight it.
He let himself need Vinny.
And Vinny?
Vinny knew he had won.