wyatt frost didn’t DO hookups … could barely even stomach the idea of putting effort in with someone just to sleep with them once and move on. he had better things to do, better things to put his time into rather than a quick and meaningless lay. but with the season drawing to an end and a game cancelled by the abhorrent weather, wyatt had decided that maybe letting loose for one night couldn’t be much harm, surely. and yet alcohol fueled bad choices had drawn him right back to hart like a moth to a flame. and now look where they were — trapped together with the ghost of their decisions hovering heavy between them.

       “ i’m good, thanks though. ” he’s too busy pacing, tightly wound off the deviance from a normal morning run that leaves energy buzzing against a pounding headache. caffeine probably isn’t the best idea for him right now. every few steps he glances at the window, as if the snow has suddenly and miraculously disappeared enough to allow him to LEAVE. “ so, i take it you don’t want to talk about what happened last night? ” the question rattling around his head leaves his mouth before he can take it back, and he draws himself to a stop and tilts his head in open consideration towards the other male. “ i mean … i think you know where i clearly stand on this. it would be nice to hear what you think, though. ”

“what do you mean,” he said without even a break in his words. of course he knew what it was that wyatt meant but it was fun to just pretend he was clueless. “i thought the sex was good, not your best but it definitely wasn’t your worst. i guess i would rate it a 7 outta 10 if i had to.” playing on the open question that wyatt left at the end of his statement, he used his charm and wit to twist it around into something far less serious than what was actually at hand. they had dated, they had broken up, they had dated, they had fooled around, it was always an endless cycle and hart wouldn’t lie. he went to wyatt when he was bored, lonely, too tired to find someone new. maybe he was a lot more comfortable than he let on but he sure as hell wouldn’t admit it out loud.

walking back into the living room, he sighed as he sat down on his warm couch. the fire cracking, his favorite sound. placing the cold glass beside of him on the table, he turned to wyatt who stood off from where he rested. “what do you want me to say, wyatt? it happened. just like it always does, except this time you can’t run home and write about it in your journal.”