Epilogue #3
Walker’s teeth sank into the side of Kota’s neck, his hips falling off rhythm as he came hard, his cock throbbing inside his hole as he filled him up.
Before Kota could catch his breath, Walker’s hand wrapped around Kota’s own neglected length, stroking him hard and fast, the feeling so intense, Kota could barely keep his feet under him.
“Can I? Can I?” Kota babbled, head falling back against Walker’s chest.
“Yeah, come for me, squirrel. I want to watch.”
This time, Kota’s knees did give out when he came, but Walker’s arm was a steel belt around him, keeping him on his feet.
Kota was dead weight as he came back down to Earth.
When he could think again, Walker slipped free.
Kota grimaced, that familiar wetness already trickling out.
Kota couldn’t even bring himself to care.
He let Walker dress him. When he spun him around and plucked him up onto the counter, he didn’t protest, just looked up at him, every emotion he had bleeding from him.
“You okay, squirrel?” Walker asked.
Kota giggled. “I’m amazing,” he said honestly. “That was awesome.”
Walker laughed, kissing his forehead. “Do you want to head back to the hotel?”
Kota wrinkled his nose. “Do we have to? I want to hang out with Tris a little longer. Is that okay?”
“Really?” Walker asked, seeming genuinely confused by the decision.
Kota smiled. “Yeah. He’s weird.”
“He is,” Walker agreed.
“And loud,” Kota mused.
“Very.”
Kota sighed happily. “And kind of exhausting.”
Walker snorted. “Painfully.”
“But...” Kota shrugged. “I like him.”
Something softened in Walker’s expression.
“I’ve never had a friend before,” Kota admitted quietly.
For a moment, Walker just stared at him. Then he wrapped both arms around Kota, hugging him tight enough to make him grunt. “Sure, squirrel. We can stay,” he said gruffly. “Whatever you want.”
Kota smiled against his throat. “Is this how it’s always going to be?” he asked. “I ask for something and you just...do it?”
“Is that so bad?” Walker asked.
Kota tilted his head back so he could see his face. “Won’t you get tired of me?” The question slipped out before he could stop it.
Walker snorted immediately. “No.”
Not maybe. Not probably not. Just no. Something tight in Kota’s chest loosened.
Walker shook his head. “No, I don’t see myself ever getting tired of you.” His thumb brushed across Kota’s cheek. “There are only two people in my life I’m genuinely happy to see.” Kota smiled. “You and Carrot Cake.”
“Which one are you happier to see?” Kota teased, unable to stop grinning.
Walker pretended to consider it. “Well, you let me snuggle you, so you win by default.” He bit Kota’s nose.
“Ow!” Kota cried, rubbing the red spot there.
“You asked.”
Kota laughed. “I’ll take it.”
Walker looked at him. The noise and music from the bar seemed far away suddenly. “I’ll take you.”
Something flashed across Walker’s face. Possessive. Certain. Happy?
“All yours,” Kota promised.
Not for tonight. Not for the trip. Not until Oregon.
Just—
All yours.
Kota rested his head on Walker’s shoulder. For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then he finally said, “Walker?”
“Yeah?”
“Happy birthday.”
Walker chuckled, holding him even tighter. “Thanks, squirrel.”
Kota buried his face in Walker’s throat, breathing in the familiar scent of whiskey, soap, and whatever it was that made Walker smell like home. He didn’t know how long this would last. Maybe forever. Maybe not. But for the first time in his life, he found himself hoping for forever.
Walker was too important. This life—strange and messy and criminal—was too important.