RED [BXB]

TWELVE

"So, what do you think?"

Mason looked up from his notebook, his pencil gripped loosely between his teeth. He raised an eyebrow at Luke, who sat beside him on the floor.

"I think that's stupid, Hale," he deadpanned.

"But why? If they both think it's okay, what's the big deal about it?"

"What's the point of being in a relationship if you're going to fuck other people?" Mason retaliated.

"Because monogamy makes absolutely no sense! So what if you sleep with other people? It's just sex!"

Mason rolled his eyes, growing frustrated. "You can't love someone and be intimate with someone else. It just doesn't work that way."

"Why not?" Luke pressed. "Sex is sex. But when you date someone, it means it's more than just physical to you. You can fuck other people, yeah, but the mushy-cuddly-in your feels-shit is reserved for that one person only."

"So you love Zoya?" The question left Mason's lips without his permission. Yet, he didn't regret asking it, his curiosity getting the best of him.

It didn't take Luke a second to respond, "No."

Mason's eyebrows raised on their own accord. "Then why are you 'dating' her?"

This time, it took him a moment to ponder the question. "Well, I guess it's because she wanted us to. We always slept together but we were also super close friends, so it didn't really make a difference if we put a label on it or not. Like, she means a lot to me, but I don't love her. I don't think I'll ever get to that point with her."

"Then why bother?"

"Why not?" Luke shot back. "You know, things don't always have to be so complicated."

Mason rolled his eyes, not bothering to respond. They'd been at it for hours, ever since Luke had—seemingly out of nowhere—bothered Mason with the topic of open relationships. At first, Mason didn't really care, but seeing how worked up Luke got about the subject made him all the more determined to convince him otherwise.

Truth was, Mason had long ago given up the idea of being happy in a relationship. It was simply something that was off the table for him, something he wasn't allowed to have—to want, even. For that, Luke was all types of confusing. He knew he needed to keep his distance, knew he was treading on dangerous ground, yet he couldn't stay away from the feisty red-headed who occupied his thoughts.

Mason's thoughts about Luke weren't always pretty; it was only in the middle of the night, at times when someone who had an 8am class should've already been in deep sleep, that his self-hatred crept up on him like an old friend.

Self-hatred was certainly no stranger to Mason, who grew up knowing that all he desired was inherently evil. It didn't take long for him to realize that he was as sinful as the men in the stories his preachers and parents told him.

Truly, how could he not hate himself?

Then, Luke came along, and showed him that—even for a second—it was okay to be who he was. And despite himself, Mason believed him—dare he say, he even longed for that feeling of freedom.

If one thing was for sure, though, the longer he allowed himself to fall for Luke's devious eyes and tempting smile, the harder he punished himself for it.

Speaking of Luke, he was still staring at him, not really expecting a response as he noticed how lost Mason seemed to be in his own head. He softly knocked his shoulder against his to grab his attention.

"Hey," he whispered. "Where did you go?"

Mason tried to look at him, but shied away from his intense gaze almost immediately. "I need to study."

And while he was merely using that as an excuse, it was true. All those sleepless nights were catching up to Mason, impairing his focus and causing his grades to slip. It was only slight, and his professors hadn't even noticed yet, but he knew his parents would.

At the reminder of them, Mason stood up to create some distance between himself and Luke. To no such luck, the latter grabbed his arm, effectively rooting him in place.

A beat of silence passed between them, before Luke broke it with a quivering voice, "Don't run away from me."

Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or maybe it was Luke's vulnerability, but Mason allowed himself to be pulled back into his bed.

"Can I kiss you?"

Mason held his breath, every fiber of his brain screaming at him to refuse. Only, he found himself not really wanting to.

He knew he would be punished later. He knew his brain wouldn't let him hear the end of this. He knew it'd be days before he got a good night's sleep. He knew he was a sinner.

Then again, he remembered kissing Luke before, remembered holding his hand down the sidewalk, remembered the feeling that came with it. He remembered the electricity, the power, the zenith before it all came crashing down on his world. A mere moment of that freedom, that excitement, that exhilaration, Mason decided, made all that worth it.

So he leaned in.