Axel #2
“Oh, sweetheart…I’m sorry.” Axel kissed Waylan’s temple. He didn’t give a damn how clean or dirty he was.
“I didn’t even have enough to finish the semester, much less my senior year.” Waylan let out a watery laugh. “I went begging back to my mom and dad, literally on hands and knees. They said it was God punishing me.”
Axel was a gentle soul, but sometimes he wished people like that could experience the kind of hurt they inflicted on others.
“God doesn’t work that way, sweetheart. I promise. God is grace, goodness, and mercy. He’d never hurt anyone like that.”
“Then why me?” Waylan cried out.
I don’t know.
It shattered Axel’s heart. He felt Waylan’s pain like his own.
But he did believe the universe lined everything up through divine intervention, and it was no surprise Axel was there at that moment with him.
I’m here now… I’m here, Waylan. We found each other. I’m just so sorry you had to go through that first, that we both had to go through what we did.
He sat there in the cold, holding Waylan until he’d let it all out.
By the time Waylan finished, his head was resting against Axel’s chest, his cheek cradled in his palm.
Waylan lifted his head, putting them face-to-face, inches apart. His breath ghosted over Axel’s lips, the broken pieces of his story still echoing between them.
Axel didn’t lunge or claim. He leaned in and allowed their mouths to touch with the gentleness of a prayer.
He moved his lips slow, calming, worshipful, tasting the salt of Waylan’s pain and offering back something gentler—hope, empathy, a vow he left unspoken.
Now wasn’t the time to test the capability of Waylan’s trust.
The kiss wasn’t about hunger. It was about telling Waylan through his touch— I see you. I want you. I will treat you the way you always wanted to be treated .
“Listen to me.” Axel cupped Waylan’s trembling, cold cheeks, stroking away the last of his tears with his thumbs . “I’m going to give you my heart while I repair yours, piece by piece. I’ll love you, care for you, guard you until the bruises on your soul fade. And it’s okay if it takes a lifetime.”
“Don’t, please,” Waylan cried as if he couldn’t take any more empty promises.
Axel tucked the blanket more warmly around Waylan’s shoulders. “Keep this. Your dinner is with Clarence. Eat, dear heart.” He kissed Waylan on his cheek. “I’ll be back for you, and when I come again, you’re coming home with me.”
Waylan didn’t answer, staring down, hair shadowing his face. Axel let the silence be, then got up and hurried back toward Thorn’s mansion.
He would request a meeting the moment he got home. Thorn wouldn’t question his judgment. He never had.
He’d been damn near jogging when his spine prickled with a sense of danger. He glanced around at the blackness but saw nothing. But something or someone was out there…watching him.
The chill followed him all the way home.
Waylan
He buried his nose in the blanket and closed his eyes.
It smelled just like him. Waylan didn’t know if it was the soap, oil, or lotion Axel used, but the scent was comforting.
If a home full of love and goodness had a smell, this would be it.
Axel’s poetic words continued to play over and over in his mind like a broken record. No one had ever spoken to him like that—hell, he’d never met anyone who spoke like that, period.
Every line had felt like a bandage placed gently over a wound that’d been left open and raw for a long time.
The heat of Axel’s hand on his cheek, the soft press of his lips, had branded him with something terrifying…hope.
Waylan was still reeling from the fact that Axel had touched and kissed him at all. As if the funk and grime didn’t faze him.
He hadn’t brushed his teeth in two weeks, his gums were too sensitive, and the dips he took in the freezing ocean didn’t leave him feeling Irish Spring clean.
He wanted so much to believe Axel. To believe that he’d come back, that this wasn’t just another fleeting kindness in a world that had only ever devoured him.
But wishing was dangerous—it left scars when it never came true.
And Waylan already carried enough damage to last a lifetime.
I’m going to give you my heart while I repair yours, piece by piece.
Waylan hugged the blanket tight to him, doing his best to convince himself that Axel was real. He was one of a kind. The way his stomach flipped and his pulse thudded had to mean something.
He’d been infatuated, impressed, wooed by Joshua… Those weren’t the feelings that arose when Axel came around.
Joshua had been all ego and arrogance, a man who loved being seen and who wore Waylan like a fancy piece of jewelry.
Axel was the opposite. He was gorgeous, well-groomed, and polite. He didn’t brag. He wasn’t conceited. Axel had told him he was from the streets too, and it humbled him. Now he was all quiet comfort, empathy, and warmth.
He admired Axel and had come to appreciate him over the last few weeks for bringing the food, toiletries, clothes, and water, not just for him and Clarence, but for several other unhoused people around them.
But love …love was too big a risk.
He wanted to believe Axel’s promises. He wanted to believe the brilliant blue light surrounding Axel wasn’t an illusion.
End of Season Two Episode Three