The room was dark except for the faint glow of the moonlight seeping through the open window. The queen bed felt smaller than it should have, especially with Matteo sprawled behind me. His shoulder pressed lightly against mine. I tried to relax, but the small contact made my pulse climb. My mind refused to turn off, every thought circling back to him, to the warmth of his body, the soft rise of his chest under the blanket, the casual confidence he radiated even while lying in the dark.
I coughed once, a quiet tickle in my throat. Then again, slightly louder this time. Matteo shifted behind me, his head tilting just enough for his gaze to find mine in the dark. "You okay?" His voice was low, careful, and it made my chest tighten.
I swallowed. "I think I caught a bit of a cold from the beach," I said. "Or maybe it is just the breeze. Or allergies. Nothing serious." My voice sounded small to my own ears.
There was a pause. Then Matteo moved closer, the heat from his body brushing my back. "Come here," he said softly. "You are freezing."
I froze, my face warming instantly. "No, no, I am fine," I murmured, trying to sound casual, though my hands were trembling slightly.
Matteo laughed quietly behind me. "Stubborn," he said. "Even if this is fake, I cannot let my boyfriend shiver next to me."
Boyfriend. He said it like it was nothing, like it was casual, like it belonged to the easy rhythm of his voice. But my body betrayed me anyway, a rush of heat rising into my cheeks. I felt him scoot closer, his arm slipping around my waist, firm and warm.
He pressed his body against mine. I felt the weight of him, strong and muscular, settling into me. His pecs pressed against my back, broad and warm, pressing just enough to make my spine tense and shiver. His breath ghosted along my neck, hot and teasing, carrying the faint tang of sun and salt from the beach. His bicep wrapped around my chest, firm and veined, pulling me closer without effort. The softness of the pillow beneath our heads only emphasized the closeness. Every inch of space between us disappeared in the small bed.
"There," Matteo murmured. "That should warm you up."
I exhaled shakily, too stunned to speak. Every muscle in my body was taut, every nerve ending alive. My thoughts raced faster than I could catch them. "Thanks," I said quietly, my voice small. "You are not a completely terrible fake boyfriend."
He chuckled into my shoulder, a vibration that ran down my spine and made my chest pulse. My stomach tightened at the sound, my body responding without permission, remembering the way his arm fit across me, the firm warmth of his chest, the nearness of his mouth even when he said nothing.
We stayed there for a long moment, letting the quiet settle between us. Then he spoke again, quietly, carefully. "Adrian, I really owe you for this. I know this fake dating idea started as a way to get Jessica off my back. But now my friends got involved and they insisted on meeting you, and I dragged you deeper into it. I feel like I asked too much. You did not have to do any of this."
I let out a soft breath. "Come on man," I said, turning my head slightly so he could hear the smile in my voice. "You are my best friend. This is nothing. I get company. And a hot fake boyfriend. That is a win win."
I froze when the words slipped out. Matteo lifted his head slightly, nudging my neck with his jaw. "Oh," he said softly. "So you think I am hot."
I felt my face go hot enough to burn. "Matteo Romano," I muttered, embarrassed. "The entire Palermo knows you are hot. I am not saying anything new."
His smirk pressed against my skin, warm and teasing. "But you think I am hot," he whispered, just close enough to make my spine tingle.
I groaned softly into the pillow, hiding my face. My body reacted instantly, heat pooling in a place I could not control. I shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable, and my ass brushed against him. Just a small adjustment. Just a subtle move to settle into the mattress.
I froze. I felt his bulge. Right there pressed against my ass. His arousal was immediate. Not fully hard, but enough to make my body respond, stiffen, tighten. My cock twitched inside my shorts, the heat spreading through my lower stomach, igniting something wild and uncontained.
I tried to apologize, voice weak. "Fuck..I-I am sorry," I whispered.
"Shit, lol" Matteo murmured behind me. "Sorry. I did not mean for that to happen."
I turned my head slightly. "No no. Sorry. I did not mean to. I just accidentally moved."
His voice dropped, softer, unsure. "I mean. It sort of just happened, I guess. I have not been this close to anyone since Jessica. And, you know, physical closeness gets confusing."
I felt a rush of heat and want hit me full force. My shorts were tight, my cock straining, and I could not hide it. Every nerve ending was on fire, pressed against his solid, warm body.
He shifted slightly behind me, taking a deep breath, and whispered, "It is nothing. Do not worry."
He pulled me a little closer, careful now, offering warmth without pressing too hard. But even the smallest contact made my body pulse. His chest pressed against mine, his arm still snug across my waist. The faint throb of his arousal was unmistakable, teasing at my skin. My body wanted more. My mind could barely keep up.
We lay there, pressed together in the dark, the quiet hum of the night outside the open window. Every small movement, every breath, every subtle shift felt loaded with more than just warmth. I could feel the curve of his bicep pressing into my ribs, the broad sweep of his shoulder along my spine, the solid, heavy warmth of his chest against my back.
We talked quietly, low murmurs, joking and teasing in the dark. But the undertone was electric. The proximity made my stomach twist, made my pulse spike, made every nerve in my body alive in a way I could not control. Matteo was calm, easy, almost indifferent in the way he pressed into me, but the warmth and strength of him, the accidental and inevitable hardness pressing into my ass, made it impossible to pretend this was just fake.
And yet, the half-consciousness of the night, the dark, the quiet, the way he held me as if I mattered, made it tender. It was more than just want. It was something dangerously intimate, soft, and impossible to turn away from.
I pressed back slightly, almost instinctively, feeling the solid heat of him behind me, the gentle but deliberate weight of his arm across me. The small movements, the shifts, the way he let me fit into him, made every part of my body buzz. My cock ached. My stomach fluttered. My chest felt too tight. My mind could not keep up with the fire inside me.
"Better?" Matteo whispered quietly, his mouth brushing against the back of my neck.
I nodded, even though my heart was racing. "Yeah," I breathed. "Much better."
He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating along my back and down my spine. I pressed closer into him, almost involuntarily, letting the warmth of his body wash over me. The tension between us was electric. Unspoken. Erotic. And impossible to ignore.
I closed my eyes and let the sensation take over. His arm tightened slightly across my waist, his chest pressed firmly into my back, and the bed, though small, seemed to shrink even more, forcing every inch of our bodies together. My hand brushed lightly against his arm, tracing the smooth line of his bicep, feeling the subtle ridges of muscle. My body shivered at the contact, heat pooling low and deep.
We stayed like that for a long moment. Nothing needed to be said. Everything was said in the press of his body against mine, the warmth, the weight, the slight but undeniable hardness, and the soft, slow, careful pressure that made every inch of my skin alive.
I breathed in shallow, quick breaths, heart pounding, cock twitching. Matteo’s chest rose and fell against mine. His arm tightened and then relaxed, pulling me closer still. The night stretched on, slow and charged.
Matteo pressed closer without realizing it at first. My ass brushed against him, the pressure subtle at first, then more deliberate.I felt the firm warmth of his abs along my back, the solid rise and fall of his chest, the bicep spanning across my ribs like a brace that was both protective and impossibly intimate. His thigh tangled with mine beneath the thin blanket, nudging me softly, teasing, almost accidental, but impossibly electric.
The bulge pressed against me again, stronger this time, brushing along the curve of my ass. Heat pooled low in my stomach. My body betrayed me completely. Every nerve ending was alive, every muscle tense, every thought derailed by the smooth, warm weight of him pressed against me. His arm around my chest tightened slightly. Veins stood out along his forearm, his bicep flexing gently as it rested over my stomach. I could not help looking, tracing the line of muscle, the heat radiating from him, the undeniable press of him against me.
Matteo shifted slightly, almost trying to hide it, and it only made it worse. Every inch of contact became more pronounced, more consuming.
"Sorry," he whispered, low and rough, his breath brushing the curve of my neck. "I am still figuring out what this is. My body doesn’t know you are my fake boyfriend", he laughed.
I froze at the honesty in his voice, at the vulnerability I never expected. Confused. Hesitant. Tentative. Every word made my chest tighten further, my cock twitching insistently against the thin fabric of my shorts.
"It’s okay, really" I murmured, trying to steady my own voice, though my body was betraying me with every heartbeat. "You do not have to feel sorry for it. I am just gonna think… my boyfriend is into me."
He made a soft noise in the back of his throat, a chuckle, a little embarrassed, but there was warmth in it. "Palermo does not know it yet," he said, pressing closer, "but Adrian Cole is just as hot."
I shivered, pressed forward slightly into him, heat and want pooling into a tight, impossible coil. My body hummed. My heart hammered. My cock ached. Every line of him against me was alive, every press of muscle and warmth and breath set my nerves on fire.
Matteo settled his face near my neck, jaw brushing the sensitive skin at the nape. His hand spread lazily across my stomach, fingers splaying slightly. It was not consciously sensual, but every inch of contact felt like a line drawn on my skin, intimate and tender and impossibly direct.
"You smell good," he murmured, voice rough with exhaustion and something else I could not name.
I froze completely, every inch of my body alert and responsive.
"You always do," he added softly, "always spraying yourself with the most ridiculously expensive perfumes."
I laughed quietly, embarrassed, shaking slightly against him, heat pooling low, cock straining, every nerve a live wire. He chuckled too, chest vibrating against my back, warmth and weight pressing me further into the mattress.
We did not move apart. We did not speak again about the “accidental” closeness, the growing ache, the hard press of him behind me. We simply stayed pressed together, bodies flush, every curve and line of us in contact.
I lay there, breathing carefully, heart racing, his cock pressed against the curve of my ass, feeling the heat of him, the press of his arm holding me close. I was awake far longer than I wanted to admit, muscles trembling, nerves on fire, every inch of me hyperaware of the solid, warm presence behind me.
Matteo’s chest rose and fell against my back, firm, warm, heavy. His arm wrapped snugly around me again, subtle adjustments here and there, tiny presses that made me shiver with want. The bulge pressed insistently, teasingly, and my body could not deny the response. I felt wanted, accidentally, recklessly, impossibly.
The night stretched on. No words were needed. No movement beyond the gentle press of his body and the shared warmth of two men pressed together. Every line of contact, every touch, every breath simmered with tension and need that neither of us could name.
Questions lingered in the dark. What did this mean? What could it mean? My mind raced and stalled in equal measure, tangled between the idea of fake dating and the undeniable electricity of his body pressed to mine. Desire pulsed beneath the sheets, slow, relentless, simmering.
I could feel him, firm and heavy, every muscle and tendon, every curve of his broad shoulders, the press of his bicep along my side, the warmth of his chest along my back. My body responded without thought, nerves alive, cock hard, ass brushing against the unintended pressure of him.
I let myself sink into it, into the warmth, into the dangerous intimacy of it. No words. No clarity. Just him pressed against me, soft breaths and muscle and heat and weight and undeniable, impossible, accidental arousal.
I lay there awake, heart hammering, body straining, fully pressed against him, feeling everything: the arm that held me close, the chest that pressed into my spine, the solid warmth of him brushing every line of me, the faint but undeniable hardness nudging me, teasing me.
Heat simmered along every inch of my body. The night was long, slow, charged, impossible to untangle. Desire lay quietly between us, unspoken but fierce. Tension thickened in the dark.
And there we stayed, pressed together, spooned in the queen bed that felt impossibly small for a big guy like Matteo and impossibly intimate for me. Every touch and press and sigh held a weight neither of us could name, a fire that would not be put out, a want that simmered beneath the sheets, fierce and raw.
The night ended not with words or clarity but with our bodies pressed together along every line, every curve and contour alive with heat and need. Nothing was resolved. Everything was unresolved. Questions hung in the dark. Desire simmered beneath the covers. And I, awake and hard, could feel him completely, dangerously, and impossibly, right behind me.
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