Grayson sits on the foot of his bed in the dark, anxiously tapping his foot.
He hears a hesitant knock at the door and springs up, running to it and counting to five before swinging it open to reveal a nervous-looking Jude.
He looks…too good. Donned in a deep red button-down with the sleeves rolled up and slim-cut dress pants that accentuate his form.
“Hi. You had me worried I was at the wrong room. Why are all your lights off?” Jude inquires with a small smile.
“Oh, you know… I thought, ‘if I look at myself in the mirror one more time I’m going to explode into a fiery inferno.’ The usual.”
Grayson knew he was in the outfit that made him look the best, but he also knew that he would overthink it if he let himself. He might not have been built like some sort of Greecian god, but his tight black turtleneck and charcoal plaid trousers hugged all the right places.
“You look great,” Jude leans closer, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “Pretty boy.”