Am I really doing this?
Clark’s shoulders tightened. “Sure,” he said, with an automatic smile as he got up and headed toward the bedroom. Clark counted his steps until he knelt next to the bed and reached for the crate underneath it. While this felt sudden, it was also moving slowly enough that he could think. That was both good and bad.
Good because he knew it was the safer route; this path led to more anticipation and chances to chat before things got underway.
Bad because it gave Clark entirely too much time to think about what he’d told Daniel—Slow and teasing will get me there.—and to feel overwhelmed by the entire situation. It wasn’t that he was afraid of Daniel. He wouldn’t hurt Clark. It was more that this felt entirely deliberate. There was no breathless confession or cover of darkness to mask what they were doing. Clark didn’t know whether to be proud of that or worried about himself. Wincing, Clark got out the crate and removed the lid.