Sleepover

"I can go next door for my own clothes," Luke said, "but I typically sleep naked."

O-M-G. If that man said one more word, Tate was going to pass out. Would this night of wonders never end? Not that he was complaining. Not at all. Tate was a fantasy dreamer from way back when, but even in his dreams, he'd never imagine Luke in his bed. Naked. Of his own accord. Well, not until they had dated for a while and gone through all the usual rituals like making out, saying I love you, or at least telling each other how they were as hot as fuck and it was time to screw.

Only Luke had already made it clear that he wasn't into sex, at least for the evening, so sleeping nude was probably not a good idea. Too much temptation. Too hard to sleep with a boner, and Luke naked would definitely be boner material.