“Sit at the table, Sebastian,” he tells me. “Or I’m going to fuck you over the back of my couch, and we’ll never get around to eating.” My breath catches. Doesn’t just catch; it’s fully reeled in, vanishing above the surface, leaving me down below in cool dark water and utter stillness. I’d hoped that was where tonight would end up. We haven’t taken that step yet, not as fuck-buddies, but now? I didn’t know if it’d be on the table. Apparently it’s on the back of the couch. And hopefully his bed. Possibly the shower. Fuck.
