Chapter 15
The sun has started setting by the time Kieran stops sulking.
Ash is on his feet at the first creak of the door.
This didn’t take nearly as long as he’d anticipated.
He was bracing himself for the silent treatment until their departure, ready to sleep on the patio, or the beach.
Seems he doesn’t have to worry about that.
“Hey,” he croaks when Kieran reemerges, disheveled and gloomy. There’s an indent from a pillow on his left cheek, making him look like a cute, grumpy cat. With sharp claws. Honestly, Ash wouldn’t mind getting scratched at all.
“Hey,” Kieran returns, voice low and raspy as if he’s just woken up.
He’s totally oblivious to Ash practically vibrating on his feet.
Winning Kieran over, whatever that might look like, always gives him such a rush.
After the crap he pulled this morning, getting Kieran to talk to him again is basically serotonin overload. “Just…come in.”
Ash doesn’t have to be told twice. He takes a chair while Kieran takes the bed.
“So…” Kieran starts, grumpy as ever. “We need to survive just one more day here, is that it?”
“That’s not the word I’d choose…” One look from Kieran has Ash shutting up. He gives what’s hopefully a comforting smile. “We don’t have to. I can try and have our flights rescheduled for tomorrow, if that’s what you want.”
Kieran blinks. Stares. As if he’s not used to being asked what he wants. How ridiculous. Every decision Ash makes is aligned with what Kieran wants. It’s always been like that.
“What I want…” Kieran says. It’s mostly a whisper, likely not meant for Ash’s ears.
He licks his lips, his gaze challenging as he aims it at Ash. “I want you to apologize to me.”
Ash exhales, relieved. He wasn’t sure Kieran would even be interested in an apology.
“I shouldn’t have gone behind your back, that was a shitty thing to do. And I know it must’ve triggered you badly. I’m sorry, Kieran. Truly.”
More blinking. More staring. Kieran’s practically a statue at this point. As if someone apologizing to him, without a fight, is so unexpected it fried his brain.
Ash resists the temptation to look inside his mind. He knows that if he tried, there would be no resistance, but for some reason he wants to do this the old-fashioned way. He needs to trust that he can understand what Kieran needs even without cheating.
“That’s it?” Kieran asks.
Ash falters, uncertain. Damn, this shit is hard without using his powers. “Should I…kneel?” he suggests, then smiles at the idea, instantly liking it. “I can kneel, if you want.”
“That’s not—Jesus. You’re a freak,” Kieran groans, smacking his forehead. Then clarifies, “You’re not gonna explain yourself?”
“I figured that whatever I said would sound like an excuse and would invalidate the purpose of the apology.”
“You sound like a robot, you know that? Don’t make excuses, just tell the truth.”
Yeah, easier said than done. There’s only so much Ash can say before he sends Kieran running for the hills.
“The truth is…that whatever I do, I do for you. With your best interests at heart.” He cringes instantly. “See? I sound like your parents.”
At the mention of his parents, Kieran recoils, as if Ash’s words were a physical blow. “What do you know about my parents?”
“Everything. I know everything about you.”
“And yet I didn’t tell you this was going to happen. Guess you don’t know everything.” It’s an intentional jab, meant to sting, to hurt.
It doesn’t quite land.
“You’re still your own person. You are allowed to keep secrets, you know?” Ash tells him.
The sincerity throws Kieran off, he can tell.
He can almost see the inner battle going on behind Kieran’s eyes as he’s trying to stay angry and defiant.
Fighting not to give in, but losing steam because Ash isn’t reacting the way he anticipated.
He’s not fueling the indignation, isn’t fighting back.
Even without using his powers, Ash can see his thoughts play out clearly.
He can also see the moment a crack appears in Kieran’s armor.
“Thanks for the food, by the way,” Kieran mumbles, then clears his throat. Twice. Like he’s trying to cover it up.
Ash can’t keep the stupid, happy smile from appearing. “Was it to your liking?”
“You know it was, you smug bastard,” Kieran snaps, eyes flashing. “Stop smiling.”
“Sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
“You’re so cute.” Oops, that one kinda slipped out.
“What did you just say to me?” Kieran demands, hands on his hips.
“I asked if you’re hungry. They’re serving dinner now.” Food—always a successful distraction.
This time is no exception. Kieran continues to try to set him on fire with his seething glare, but soon gives in.
“You better be on your best behavior,” he warns. “I know Krav Maga.”
“No, you don’t,” Ash argues, with the confidence of a man who’s witnessed his boyfriend wrestle with a ten-year-old girl over the last pack of Doritos and lose.
“Yes, I do!” Kieran cries, getting up and stomping forward. Assuming what’s probably meant to be a fighting stance, he brings up his fists. “You want me to show you—hey!”
Standing up and closing the distance in two swift strides, Ash reaches for him. In one fluid motion, he spins Kieran around, pinning his arms to his chest and pressing himself against his back.
Kieran goes still. Not like someone frozen in fear, but rather caught off guard by being so close to another person.
Ash leans in, slow and deliberate, until his lips hover just beside Kieran’s ear.
“Go on. Show me,” he prompts, letting his voice drop, smooth and quiet.
The shiver that rolls down Kieran’s spine is subtle, but unmistakable.
Ash can feel it in his own body, and it makes it impossible to pull away.
So he doesn’t. Because Kieran isn’t pushing him away, isn’t protesting, even though Ash has kept his hold on him light enough that it wouldn’t take much to escape it. Not if he really tried.
He lets his breath ghost over Kieran’s skin. Lets his lips graze, featherlight and deceptively accidental, over the shell of his ear. Just to see if he’ll react like he always does. If his body already remembers, despite his mind being different.
“Show me, Kieran.”
Oh, it remembers alright.
Ash can hear Kieran’s breath hitch, his heart speed up. A nearly imperceptible gasp slips past his lips, but for Ash it’s louder than a roll of thunder.
Unable to resist, a tendril of his consciousness reaches inside Kieran’s mind. He smiles at the feeling, the familiarity of it. He’s touched Kieran’s mind so many times, sometimes it feels like he belongs there. Like there’s no difference between Kieran’s mind and his own.
Despite already suspecting what he might come across, he’s still not prepared. The thoughts that play out might as well be a memory.
The scene mirrors their current position, blurring the line between what’s real and what is just a product of Kieran’s imagination.
Ash watches himself slide one of his hands lower, fingers dancing above Kieran’s waistband.
It slips under the hem of his shirt, caressing the skin there.
Teasing, unhurried. In the scene, Kieran’s head falls back on Ash’s shoulder, his breath coming out in heavy puffs.
His cheeks are flushed, his eyes closed tight and crinkling at the corners.
He looks exactly the same as he does when Ash touches him in real life.
So lovely and sweet. So painfully responsive to the slightest touch.
It’s in direct contradiction to what most people expect him to be like—cold, unyielding, hard to please.
Nothing could be further from the truth. Kieran, especially this Kieran who hasn’t been doted on for the past two years, is so starved for touch, for affection, that he crumbles at the smallest display of it.
In Kieran’s mind, Ash’s hand traces an invisible line up the center of his chest. It grazes over a nipple, brief and barely there, but Kieran jolts as if he’s been touched by a livewire.
The beginnings of a beautifully desperate moan start forming in his chest, but Ash steals it away before it gets a chance to burst out.
He takes Kieran’s jaw in a gentle yet firm grip, tilts his head up and slots their mouths together.
The scene comes to a stark halt, like someone drawing the curtains closed after a final act.
Kieran freaked himself out, as is his habit.
Ash smiles, so stupidly in love with this endearingly frustrating man.
RIP his raging boner.
“Okay, fine. I get it. I suck,” Kieran says in a strained, quiet voice. “Let me go.”
Regretfully, Ash does. It takes effort, but he lets his arms fall to his sides and forces himself to step back, giving Kieran space.
The look of surprise on Kieran’s face tells him he wasn’t expecting Ash to listen, not without teasing him first.
Not that it wasn’t tempting, but Ash senses Kieran’s already reached his daily limit for new self-discoveries. Any more and he’s going to snap. Really snap. In a way Ash wouldn’t be able to repair.
So, as tempting as it might be, this isn’t about Ash satisfying one of his freaky streaks. This is about earning Kieran’s trust and proving to him that if he chooses Ash, fully and without reservations, he’s gonna be the happiest man on earth. Well, second happiest.
Ash will spoil him rotten, adore the hell out of him, and make him forget about the time when his life was anything less than fucking perfect.
He just needs Kieran to give him a chance.
“Up for dinner?”
At the prospect of food, Kieran’s expression lights up. He conceals it quickly.
“You know, for a guy who’s pushing healthier habits, you sure like to feed me a lot.”
“I like taking care of you. There’s a difference.”
Predictably, Kieran blushes like a maiden who accidentally flashed her ankles, but doesn’t freak out about Ash’s comment. Interesting. They might be making progress.
Don’t get too excited, Cleaver.
“Super. I want more burgers.”
Cheeky little shit.
“Taking care of you includes making sure you don’t give yourself indigestion.” Or a heart attack. “I’d really appreciate it if you ate some real food this time.”
Kieran rolls his eyes and—Ash might be imagining it—smothers a smile. “Knew it wouldn’t be as easy as you make it sound. Fine. Let’s have some of that real, gross food then.”
“Sounds good.”
Kieran watches him for a moment, as if he’s trying to gauge what’s going through his head. Ash is really, really grateful Kieran doesn’t have mind-reading skills.
“Okay, let’s go. I’m starving,” he orders, already heading for the door.
Ash obediently trails behind him, muttering an affectionate, “Bottomless pit.”
“I heard that! Behave.”
“Yes, honey.”
Kieran throws him the stink eye over his shoulder, but that’s it. Ash takes it for the win that it is.
Baby steps, he reminds himself.