Lyssy Doesn’t Know How to Title So:
Sweet Sweater Love
“J?” Charlie voiced softly as he entered the dim room.
Tiptoeing to the other Prefect’s bed, Chaz found him curled up under the covers. Irresistibly drawn, he stroked Justin’s cheek.
Sleepy blue eyes blinked up at him. “Chaz?”
“Shit.” Windsor’s Prefect swore softly. “Go back to sleep, Justin. Didn’t mean to wake you.”
Justin sat up, pulling Chaz down to gently kiss him silent. “‘Sokay. Windsor’s intact?”
“As intact as the nuthouse can be.” Charlie sank into the bed, pressing their foreheads together. “I missed you. Sorry for taking off.”
“Don’t make me kiss you again.” A quick nose nuzzle, and Justin pulled away, grinning.
Charlie couldn’t help but smile back. “Not quite a threat, Bancroft.”
“Mm.” Justin stretched.
Chaz’s eyes darkened. “Is that mine?”
Red suffused Justin’s face as he nodded, turning away. “Woke up, cleaned up, missed you.”
A gentle hand on his chin turned Justin back, before his mouth was thoroughly assaulted. “Mine.” Charlie whispered.
Justin had moved closer, and he could feel the English boy’s bare skin against his. The thought that all Justin was wearing was his skin and Charlie’s soccer hoodie…
“Yours.” Justin affirmed, kissing him back. “As much as you’re mine.”