Chapter 41 Victor
VICTOR
Iscan the restaurant for the third time in fifteen minutes.
Table near the window, full visibility from the street—Theo’s suggestion.
My back to the wall so I can see everyone entering.
The hostess approaches with another couple, seating them two tables away.
I watch them carefully, looking for signs they’re not what they seem.
“You’re doing it again,” Theo says, his voice cutting through my paranoia.
“Doing what?”
“Treating everyone like they’re Dawson’s spies.” Theo takes a sip of his wine, the candlelight catching in his dark eyes. “It’s been over a month, Victor. If he was going to do something, he would have by now.”
“You don’t know Dawson,” I mutter, adjusting my collar. “He’s patient. Calculating. He saw my hand on your back, saw how I reacted when he started talking shit. He’s just waiting for more concrete evidence.”
The waiter approaches, and I straighten in my seat.
“Are you gentlemen ready to order?”
“Give us a few more minutes,” I say, then add hastily, “My friend and I are still deciding.”
The word friend hangs between us after the waiter leaves. Theo doesn’t flinch, but I see the slight tightening around his eyes.
“That was smart,” he says finally. “Calling me your friend. Because clearly friends fuck each other in boxing rings while their employees watch.”
“That was a mistake,” I say, though my body remembers every second of it—how wanton Theo looked taking me in front of my fighters and sucking his own beautiful cock, how I couldn’t stop myself despite knowing the risk.
“Was it?” Theo cocks his head. “Because you seemed pretty into it at the time. ‘You’re fucking mine,’ I believe were your exact words. Loud enough for everyone to hear.”
I lean forward, lowering my voice. “You know what you do to me. I lose all fucking sense around you.”
“So I’ve noticed,” Theo says, a subtle smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Paranoia in public, but get me alone and suddenly you don’t care who sees or hears.”
The truth of his words burns through me. Even now, with my eyes scanning for Dawson’s people, I’m fighting the urge to drag Theo to the bathroom and take him against the wall. He makes me reckless. Makes me forget everything I’ve spent years protecting.
“So tell me,” Theo says, leaning forward slightly, “what exactly would you do if we weren’t in public right now?”
Heat crawls up my neck. “Theo—”
“Would you bend me over this table?” His voice drops to a whisper. “Or would you rather I get on my knees under it?”
I glance around nervously. “Not here.”
“No one can hear us.” His foot slides against my ankle under the table. “I’ve been thinking about last night. How you looked when I was riding you.”
Despite my anxiety, my cock stirs. “Theo, seriously—”
“Or maybe,” he continues, “you’d rather I showed you what I can do with my tongue again. The way you moaned when I—”
“Enough,” I snap, louder than intended. A woman at the next table glances over. I lower my voice. “We’re being watched.”
Theo sighs, his playfulness disappearing. “By who? The elderly couple sharing tiramisu? The businesswoman on her laptop? Victor, not everyone is out to get you.”
I flag down the waiter. “Check, please.”
In the cab, Theo sits with deliberate space between us. The silence stretches until he finally says, “I can’t do this anymore.”
My pulse spikes. “What?”
“This paranoia. Looking over your shoulder constantly. Introducing me as your friend after everything we’ve been through.” He turns to face me. “I can’t continue if you’re going to be on edge every time we’re in public.”
Panic floods my chest. After everything—the gym, my fighters, what we shared in the ring—is it all going to fall apart because I can’t get my shit together?
“Theo, I just need time—”
“You’ve had time. Ten months, Victor. And I’ve been patient.” He rubs his temples. “I’m not asking for a billboard announcement. Just... stop acting like being seen with me is the end of the world.”
The thought of losing him makes my throat close. I can’t go back to life without him. I won’t.
The cab ride passes in tense silence. Theo stares out the window, his profile outlined by passing streetlights. My hands keep clenching and unclenching on my knees. I want to reach for him, but something stops me—the same fear that’s been stopping me from the beginning.
At my building, we ride the elevator without speaking. The mechanical hum fills the space between us. I unlock my apartment door, letting him enter first. He walks in with the familiarity of someone who’s been here dozens of times, dropping his keys in the dish by the door, slipping off his shoes.
I watch him move through my space, terrified this might be the last time.
Theo turns to face me, leaning against the kitchen counter. His eyes hold mine, exhaustion written across his features.
“I want to be with you,” he says finally, voice soft but firm. “But I can’t keep being your dirty secret.”
The words land heavily. I move closer, needing him to understand.
“It’s not about shame,” I say, the realization crystallizing as I speak. “It’s about control. I want to come out on MY terms, not Dawson’s.”
Theo’s eyes widen slightly, his body straightening.
“Come out?” he repeats, something like hope flickering across his face. “You’re considering actually coming out?”
I nod, surprised by how right it feels to say it aloud. “Yeah. I am.”
He studies me carefully, as if searching for any trace of bullshit. “When will that be?”
I swallow hard, knowing he deserves better than vague promises. “Soon,” I say.
Theo doesn’t look convinced. His shoulders slump slightly, and he exhales a long breath.
“Soon,” he repeats, the word hollow. “I’ve heard that before, Victor. I can’t keep waiting for soon to arrive. I can’t keep putting my life on hold while you figure out if I’m worth the risk.”
The thought of him walking away knocks the air from my lungs. Before I can stop myself, I cross the distance between us, taking his face in my hands. His skin is warm against my palms, his dark eyes searching mine with cautious hope.
“Listen to me,” I say, my voice rougher than intended. “I know I’ve given you reasons to doubt me. I know I’ve been a coward.”
His expression softens slightly, but the wariness remains.
“You’re not just some phase I’m going through, Theo. You’re—” My throat tightens around the words. “You’re my first thought when I wake up in the morning. The last thought before I sleep. When something good happens, you’re the one I want to tell. When shit goes wrong, you’re who I need.”
My thumbs brush across his cheekbones. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone. Man or woman. It terrifies me how much I need you in my life.”
I feel him lean into my touch, almost imperceptibly.
“If you gave up on me right now, I’d deserve it,” I continue, my voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m asking you not to. Because the thought of my life without you in it—” I swallow hard. “It’s not a life I want to live.”
Theo’s eyes glisten in the dim light of my apartment. His hands come up to cover mine, still cradling his face.
“Victor,” he whispers, my name a question and answer all at once.
I press my forehead against his, closing my eyes against the vulnerability threatening to overwhelm me. “I’m done making you wait. I promise.”
I lean in slowly, giving him time to pull away if he wants. But he doesn’t. Our lips meet in a kiss so gentle. No desperation, no battle for dominance. Just the quiet acknowledgment of something deeper than either of us expected to find.
His hands slide from mine to cup my jaw, his touch featherlight. I can feel him trembling slightly beneath my fingertips, matching the tremor in my own chest. When we finally break apart, his eyes remain closed for a moment, dark lashes against his skin.
“I’m scared too, you know,” he whispers, opening his eyes to meet mine. “This isn’t... this isn’t what I do.”
“What do you mean?”
He takes a shaky breath, glancing away. “I don’t do commitment. I don’t do exclusive. Before you, I never wanted just one person.” His voice grows softer. “I always loved the freedom, the endless possibilities of single life. No attachments, no expectations. Just connection without consequence.”
Something warm unfurls in my chest at his admission. All this time I’d worried about my own vulnerability, never considering he might be just as exposed.
“What changed?” I ask, though I already know the answer.
He looks back at me, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. “You happened. And suddenly, freedom didn’t feel so free anymore.” His fingers trace the line of my jaw. “For the first time in my life, the thought of being with anyone else feels... empty.”
I pull him closer, wrapping my arms around him. He tucks his head beneath my chin, fitting against me like the final piece of a puzzle I’ve spent my life completing.
“We’re both in uncharted territory here,” I murmur into his hair. “Me with a man. You with... anyone.”
He laughs softly against my chest. “Quite the pair we make.”
I hold Theo tighter, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing against my chest. There’s something right about this moment—no frantic tearing at clothes, no battle for dominance—just us, standing in my kitchen, acknowledging what we’ve become to each other.
“Stay tonight,” I whisper into his hair. Not a command, but a request.
He tilts his face up to mine, those dark eyes searching. “Just sleeping?”
“Just sleeping,” I confirm, though my body stirs at his closeness. “I sleep better with you here.”
We move to the bedroom, stripping down to our boxers in comfortable silence. I watch as he slides under my sheets, claiming his side of the bed like he belongs there. Because he does. In my bed, in my life.
He threads his fingers through mine, bringing our joined hands to rest against his heart.
For once, I’m not thinking about what I might lose—my reputation, certain sponsors, the image I’ve cultivated for years.
Instead, I’m focused on what I’ve found: this unexpected connection, this person who sees through every defense I’ve built.
“We’re going to figure this out,” I murmur against his neck, feeling more certain with each word. “Together.”
He squeezes my hand in silent agreement, and I close my eyes, breathing in the scent of his skin. Whatever comes—Dawson, sponsors, whispers at the gym—none of it matters as much as this. As him.