The van was quiet except for the low rumble of the engine cooling down, the fading light casting soft shadows across Sam’s face. He was sitting beside you, his attention somewhere else—eyes on the windshield, fingers tapping rhythmically on his jeans, lost in thought. The usual guarded expression softened just a little, caught somewhere between tired and relaxed.

You watched him for a moment, your heart beating a little faster. You wanted to tease him, to leave a mark—something private, just for you two.

Slowly, you leaned in, your breath warm against his skin. The subtle scent of him—earthy, a hint of sweat, a trace of something musky—made your pulse quicken.

Your lips found the hollow at the base of his neck, where his skin was soft and sensitive, just beneath the edge of his hoodie. You pressed a gentle kiss there, feeling the slight pulse of his heartbeat beneath your lips.

At first, it was just a soft brush, teasing, light enough that he didn’t even flinch. Your lips lingered, then you sucked just a little—careful, but enough to leave a mark.

Sam’s jaw tensed slightly, as if he felt something but was too caught up in the moment to react. His eyes never left the window.

You pulled back just a fraction, watching his face for any sign that he noticed. There was none. Not a blink, not a shift.

A small, victorious smile curled on your lips.

He has no idea. The greenhouse van was pulled up behind the gym, as usual—doors open, crates half-unloaded, and Sam standing in the shade, sorting through clipboard notes like he didn’t care who was around.

A few classmates were nearby picking up orders, chatting, laughing—nothing unusual. Until Jason showed up, tossing a glance Sam’s way.

“Yo, McDonald,” he called out, walking closer, smirking. “What’s that on your neck, man?”

Sam didn’t even look up. “What.”

Jason leaned in a little, his eyes locking onto the faint bruise just peeking out above Sam’s hoodie.

“That a hickey? Damn. Who got their teeth in you, huh?”

Sam’s hand instinctively went up, fingers brushing the tender spot. His brows furrowed slightly. He didn’t answer.

Jason chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “Didn’t peg you for the type.”

Sam zipped his hoodie up a little higher, but not fast enough—others around were already looking. That’s when you turned the corner, walking up toward the van like you had all the time in the world.

Jason caught sight of you and froze.

You gave him a casual look. One that said yeah, I heard that. You moved to stand beside Sam, close enough that the air changed.

Jason’s eyes flicked between the two of you—Sam’s guarded posture, your slight smile—and it all clicked.

“Wait.” His voice lost some of its edge. “You left that?”

You said nothing. Just tilted your head slightly, that smile never fading.

Jason stared. His smile dropped an inch. The shift was subtle but obvious—tightening in his jaw, his eyes dragging down your frame just a little too long. Then back to Sam. Like he’d just realized something he didn’t like.

“Seriously? You’re with him?”

You crossed your arms. “Yeah. Problem?”

Jason gave a half-laugh, but it sounded forced. “Nah, just didn’t expect it. Thought you’d go for someone who actually… talks. Or has a personality.”