Chapter 31 #4
They collapsed together, sticky and satisfied, breathing gradually returning to normal. This time, Ryland didn't consider pulling away. He gathered Stephen closer, arranging them both on the narrow bed with careful efficiency.
"So," Stephen said eventually, head pillowed on Ryland's chest. "That was..."
"Better than Geneva?" Ryland suggested hopefully.
"Light years better. Galaxies better. Whatever unit of measurement indicates vast improvement."
"Parsecs," Ryland supplied. "Though technically that's distance rather than quality measurement."
"Pedant," Stephen accused fondly. "Was it... I mean, did you..."
"Are you asking if I enjoyed making love to the man I've been obsessing over for months?" Ryland asked. "Yes, Stephen. My satisfaction was complete if secondary to yours. Though I should mention..."
"What?" Stephen prompted when he trailed off.
"I withdrew before knotting," Ryland said carefully. "Given our history, I thought it best to discuss that particular aspect outside of active intimacy. To ensure you have time to process without biological imperatives clouding judgement."
Stephen was quiet for a moment, then pressed a kiss to Ryland's chest. "Thank you. For thinking of that. For all of this. For coming back despite my texts and my anger and my general disaster of a life."
"Your life isn't a disaster," Ryland said. "It's complex. Multifaceted. Occasionally chaotic but ultimately fascinating. Rather like you."
"Sweet talker." Stephen traced a pattern on Ryland's chest with one finger. "So what happens now? Do we need a relationship contract? Performance metrics? Quarterly reviews?"
"I was thinking more traditional parameters," Ryland admitted. "Exclusive romantic partnership with regular intervals of physical and emotional intimacy. Though if you'd prefer documentation, I have templates prepared."
"Of course you do." Stephen laughed. "Yes. To all of it. Exclusive romantic partnership with the mad scientist who brings lubricant variety packs as apology gifts. Though I draw the line at performance reviews."
"Weekly check-ins?" Ryland negotiated.
"You're impossible."
"You love me anyway," Ryland pointed out, the words still feeling foreign but wonderful on his tongue.
"I do," Stephen agreed. "God help me, I really do."
They lay quiet, bodies cooling, the distant sounds of Barking on a Friday night filtering through the thin walls. Stephen warm against him. The scent of sex and satisfaction. The dinosaur duvet that was genuinely inaccurate but somehow endearing.
"Ryland?" Stephen said eventually.
"Mm?"
"Thank you for researching how to make it good for me. Even if the methodology was completely mad."
"I'll always research for you," Ryland promised. "It's how I show affection. Through data analysis and optimisation strategies."
"Most people just say 'I love you.'"
"I love you," Ryland said immediately. "But also, I've created a shared calendar for optimal date scheduling and I'm researching couples' activities in the greater London area. Do you prefer theatre or museums?"
Stephen's laughter shook them both, bright and genuine. "Never change," he said. "Stay exactly this mad forever."
"I can commit to maintaining current levels of eccentricity," Ryland agreed. "Though age-related cognitive changes may alter some parameters."
"I'm going to smother you with this pillow."
"That would be counterproductive to our newly established relationship goals."
"Good point," Stephen conceded. "I'll wait until after you've taken me to all those researched date locations."
"Strategic thinking," Ryland approved. "See? We're perfectly matched. Chaos and order in optimal balance."
"Optimal," Stephen echoed softly. "Everything with you is optimal."
"Not everything," Ryland corrected. "But I'm committed to continuous improvement. Starting with breakfast. I noticed your refrigerator contained primarily condiments and what might have once been vegetables. I took the liberty of ordering groceries for delivery tomorrow morning."
"You ordered me groceries?"
"The human body requires proper nutrition for optimal function. I can't have my boyfriend subsisting on takeaway chicken and whatever's on special at Tesco."
"Boyfriend," Stephen repeated, the word soft with wonder. "Is that what we are now?"
"If you're amenable to the classification," Ryland said. "Though I'm open to alternative terminology if you prefer. Partner, significant other, exclusive romantic and sexual companion..."
Stephen kissed him quiet. "Boyfriend's perfect. You're perfect. This is perfect."
"Perfection is statistically improbable," Ryland pointed out when they broke apart.
"Shut up and be perfect with me."
"I can do that," Ryland agreed, pulling Stephen closer. "For as long as you'll have me."
"Forever sounds about right," Stephen murmured against his neck. "Give or take a standard deviation."
Ryland smiled into Stephen's hair. Some things, he was learning, transcended mathematical certainty. Some things just were. Stephen warm and pliant in his arms, smelling of sex and home, was everything his formulas had failed to predict but his heart had known all along.