kit hated when nate was the little spoon. there were… anatomical difficulties with having this hot guy all pressed up on his junk. when he was the little spoon it was obviously never an issue.

if nate were to pop a boner — which clearly (sadly) had never happened — kit would probably start thanking god and also jesus. and just luxuriating in the whole fantasy of it being about nate’s clearly bi-curious tendencies. then he’d probably start making plans to seduce this poor, poor, sweet man. and he wouldn’t even feel guilty about it. because… honestly?

the guy was crawling into his bed every night, and rubbing his back, and laying all over him, and calling him babe. and, yeah, making him breakfast and accepting it every time someone called them boyfriends. so, you know… fair was fair.

but nate wasn’t gay and kit believed him because as much as they flirted… he’d been all up on nate’s business and there were no hints of life there. not even a semi hint… nothing.

kit couldn’t say the same and that was why he was rarely the little spoon. why he avoided it and always created extra space between them whenever it happened.

only this time nate wouldn’t let him. which was… different.

so he had no idea how awkward this was going to be, really. because what if nate freaked out when the inevitable happened? what if he quit this whole cuddling, clingy routine all together?

he didn’t want nate to quit.

fuck… kit was up to his shoulders — that was what he was. the tide kept fucking rising and he was going under fast.