Chapter Fifteen Stay With Me
Chapter fifteen
Stay With Me
Kenny didn’t want to move.
Not from the bed. Nor from the exact angle where Aaron lay draped over him, boneless and spent, their breaths falling into a shared rhythm.
He could have stayed there forever. Splaying his fingers over warm skin, tracing his thumb over the fine line where Aaron’s hip met muscle, and called it doctrine.
He told himself he’d lost count of how many times he’d made Aaron come.
But that was a lie. He’d counted each one like a small sacrament, greedy and delighted: one, two, three, four, five, then another sixth.
He savoured the tally because it was proof: Aaron trusted him to take and to return, and that trust was sacred and fragile.
He’d only had the two himself, but that wasn’t important.
What was, was Aaron. And the sheets smelled of him. His sweat and sex and almond oil; the room hummed with the aftermath. Aaron shifted, breathy and sated, and the tiny, vulgar reminder of a cruel, honest growl from his stomach, ricocheted off the headboard.
Practicality, like a bell: aftercare.
Kenny smiled, soft and a little feral, and pressed a kiss to Aaron’s head. “You hungry?”
Aaron tapped the bedside with a lazy hand until the clock lit up. “It’s late. Can’t really eat at three in the morning, can we?”
“We’re not Gremlins.”
Aaron snorted, then winced, chin digging into Kenny’s chest. “Ow. Don’t make me laugh. Or come. Or move.”
“Stay here, then.” Kenny kissed him again before slipping out from beneath him, Aaron falling to a heap, then he wrapped himself in a dressing gown. “I’ve got everything you could possibly want. What are you after?”
Aaron flopped onto his back, pulling the duvet up to his chin.
“I dunno. Something simple. Comforting. Like…spicy truffle macaroni cheese with those little crispy bits on top. Are they bacon? Or pretend bacon? And a slice of that burnt Basque cheesecake from the deli in Soho. Oh, and one of those weird Japanese KitKats. The purple yam ones.”
Kenny arched an eyebrow. “Anything else you’d like flown in from Tokyo while I’m at it?”
Aaron grinned. “You said anything I want. Don’t make promises to your hungry, emotionally obliterated bottom, doc. I get weird.”
“Duly noted.” Kenny secured his belt and ruffled his hair. “But we’re currently out of Tokyo imports, London deli desserts, and anything involving truffle. Since when do you even know about any of those things?”
“TikTok.”
“Of course.” Kenny sighed. “What would you like that we actually eat on a semiregular basis? That maybe you have at least once hummed over and told me was the best thing to have entered your mouth.”
Aaron glanced up. “I’ve said that?”
“Many times. Insulting really.”
Aaron chuckled. Evilly. And it was glorious.
“I don’t know, lover. I can barely remember my own name right now, let alone what foods I eat. Surprise me.”
“Brilliant. I’ll bring up what I was already going to make.”
“Then why even ask?”
“To give you the comforting illusion that your opinion matters.”
Aaron snorted, dragging one limp arm from beneath the duvet to flip him off. It took effort. Almost heroic.
Kenny smirked. “I see. So six orgasms wasn’t enough. I’ll adjust my performance metrics next time.”
He then made his way downstairs and into the kitchen where Chaos immediately woke from his basket, leapt out and jumped up at him.
“All right, boy.” Kenny chucked him a treat. “Let me make him something to eat, then you can go see him.”
Chaos padded back and Kenny made the snacks, then balanced the tray while climbing the stairs with Chaos impatient, weaving between his legs.
“Someone missed you,” Kenny said as he shouldered open the bedroom door and Chaos leapt onto the bed in a flurry of limbs and licks.
“Was it you?” Aaron asked dryly, ruffling Chaos’s ears while dodging a swipe of tongue.
“No.” Kenny dropped down on the bed beside him. “It was me.”
“Ha ha.”
“I miss you even when you’re right in front of me.”
“Okay, stop.” Aaron laughed, wrangling Chaos down to the foot of the bed while Kenny set the tray on the bedside table and nudged him over with a hip. “And I mean you, for the record.” He shoved Kenny. “You’ve turned me into actual goo. Any more melting and I’ll fuse with the mattress.”
“That’s fine by me. You’ve already ruined the sheets.” Kenny kissed the side of Aaron’s neck. “And I can absolutely get you gooier.”
“Please don’t. I have to live in the real world at some point.”
“You say don’t…” Kenny trailed a hand across Aaron’s hip, “…but your body says, ‘go ahead, ruin me again.’”
“Not without food.”
“Then eat.” Kenny shoved half a toasted sandwich into Aaron’s mouth.
Aaron took a bite, then moaned. “Oh, my god. You went to the Forager’s? This is the good bread.”
“And the good cheese. And the red pepper chutney you called ‘sex in a jar.’”
Aaron bit again, talking around it. “You know the way to a man’s heart.”
“I did spend four hours inside you. Think I know the way to all your parts.”
Aaron barked a laugh and winced. “I said don’t make me laugh. I think my abs have detached.”
Kenny curled in closer. “Eat. Then we’ll reassess the structural integrity of your core.”
Aaron gave a breathy laugh, more wheeze than chuckle, but picked up the toastie again and took a bite.
Kenny leaned back on his elbow, watching Aaron devour the food, assessing him. Always assessing him. Checking on him. Reading him. Then, “By the way…” He tilted his head towards the window. “It’s started snowing.”
Aaron froze mid-chew. “No.” He tossed the rest of the toastie down, scrambled across the bed, Chaos hot on his heels, nails clicking over the floor as Aaron threw open the curtains. “Liar!”
Kenny laughed, deep and low and smug. “Look at that.” He winked. “Full recovery confirmed.”
Aaron didn’t even get the chance to roll his eyes before Kenny grabbed his wrist and yanked him straight back onto the bed.
The tray clattered to the floor. Chaos huffed, trotting out of the room as he’d seen this show before and had no interest in the encore, then Kenny was on him.
Pinning Aaron down, stealing the taste of cheese from his mouth.
And after that, he fed him.
Then fed on him. And off him.
And he made Aaron come again.
And again.
And again.
Until Kenny did lose count, and Aaron stopped making any sound or couldn’t be roused. So Kenny managed a few hours’ sleep before morning crept in, all pale light and breathless cold, and with it, the real world clawing back.
Aaron didn’t stir. His breathing was deep and even, face relaxed in sleep.
A sight so fucking rare it made Kenny ache.
He looked younger like this. Or, well, perhaps his actual age rather than how his past had made him older and wiser beyond his years.
But now he was bare. Undone. As if the night hadn’t happened and everything inside him hadn’t been stripped and laid out like gospel.
But it had. Every tremble. Every cry. Every whispered plea for more.
So now Kenny had to leave him to it.
He shifted carefully, easing out from under him and the duvet slid with the quiet rustle of cotton, but he pulled it back up over Aaron’s shoulders.
Chaos had wormed his way into the room sometime after dawn and was curled tight along Aaron’s other side but lifted his head at the movement.
Kenny raised a finger to his lips and tilted his head towards the door. Chaos followed without fuss.
Downstairs, the house was cold. Kenny meandered across the kitchen tiles, tied his dressing gown tighter, and fed the dog.
Chaos ate, tail wagging, while Kenny made coffee and stared out the window at the sky looking about to burst. Heavy with snow.
Fat flakes hovered above the treeline. Chaos wouldn’t get a walk unless they left now.
So he rushed upstairs to the office, changed into spare clothes in there, then clipped the lead on Chaos, tugged on boots, and headed out into the crisp morning air.
It was quiet. Bone-deep quiet. Only their footsteps broke the stillness, crunching over frost already stiffening the grass. Kenny didn’t go far. A quick circuit around the edge of the fields so Chaos could relieve himself, then back to the house as the first flakes fell.
Inside, Chaos settled by the fire. Kenny towel-dried the snow from his hair, then crouched beside him for a while, scratching behind his ears. He didn’t want to open the laptop. He didn’t want to think about murder scenes or peppermint or the sick echo of a mind that masked itself in mercy.
But he had to. He always had to.
He lit the fire first, though. Then refreshed the water jug by the bed.
Made a pot of mint tea. Set out the painkillers in case.
Put almond oil and a warm flannel on the radiator to heat through.
He knew what Aaron’s body would feel like when he woke.
The ache. The stretch. The sting of being truly worshipped.
Kenny had taken him to the edge and beyond.
Now he had to hold him steady while he came back to earth.
And when Aaron called for him, he’d crawl back without hesitation.
But for now, he opened that laptop.
The screen flared to life with the low hum of the fan. He ignored the inbox full of unread messages and the flagged case notes from Hampshire, going straight to the secure folder Jack had shared overnight. There, at the top, was the file: Glasgow 2018 – Unsolved Homicide: Doe, Female (Est. 16–18).
He clicked it open.
Case photos, scanned reports, witness statements, the original pathology file. Grainy, disorganised, barely digitised. A decade ago might as well have been a century for how differently things were recorded. Kenny leaned forward, elbows on the desk, scanning the details.