Epilogue #3
That night at the club, it had spoken loudly.
Adriel had watched Adrian, one of Landen’s friends, broad and commanding, paddle his sub with precise, relentless strokes.
The sub had taken each one with moans and grunts, his cock hard and leaking, counting each strike through gritted teeth, begging for more.
The sound of it, the sharp crack of the paddle, the sub’s voice breaking around the numbers, had made Adriel’s stomach tighten with something he couldn’t name. Want, maybe. Fear, maybe. Both.
And then, after a while, the sub had gone quiet.
The counting had stopped. His body had gone slack in the restraints, his head lolling to the side, and the expression on his face had shifted into something Adriel didn’t have a word for.
Blissful. Absent. Like he’d gone somewhere far away and left his body behind with instructions to keep breathing.
Landen had leaned close to Adriel’s ear and murmured, “He’s in subspace.
” Had explained it quietly; the altered state, the endorphin flood, the way the body could transcend sensation when trust and intensity and surrender aligned.
The way some subs described it as the most peaceful place they’d ever been.
Adriel had watched the sub’s slack, beatific face and thought:
I will never get there.
And now he’d been there.
“That was subspace?” Adriel asked, voice still soft, still half-dissolved in the warmth.
“Yes,” Landen said.
Adriel was quiet for a moment. Then, tentatively, uncertain in the way he still sometimes was after they’d done something new: “Is that... okay? That I went there?”
Landen’s face changed. The smile that broke across it was brilliant, unguarded and full and radiant in a way that Adriel rarely saw.
“Okay?” Landen repeated. He laughed softly, the sound warm, almost disbelieving.
“Adriel, it’s… that’s the greatest compliment you could give me.
As a Dom. Getting someone there, it means...
” He paused, choosing his words. “It means you trusted me completely. It means you let go; all the way. No holding back. That you felt safe enough with me to surrender.” His hand tightened on Adriel’s.
“Especially this early. Especially given everything. Do you understand how extraordinary that is?”
Adriel looked at him. At the brightness in his eyes, the emotion barely contained in his voice, the way he was holding Adriel’s hand like it was something he’d never let go of.
“Happy birthday to me,” Adriel whispered.
Landen laughed again, fuller that time, the sound filling the room, and then he leaned down and kissed him. Deep. Slow. Tasting of gratitude and love and something vast and unnamed that Adriel was only beginning to understand.
∞∞∞
Adriel spent most of the late afternoon getting ready.
He took a shower; let the hot water run, let his mind drift, didn't rush. He dried off slowly, wrapped in the towel that Jenna kept stealing because it was softer than hers, and stood in front of his open closet without the familiar tightness in his chest.
Wear something you feel good in.
Landen had said it this morning, between kisses and coffee and a second round in the shower that had nearly made them both late for work.
Adriel had laughed against his mouth, breathless, and said we're going to be late, and Landen had said let them wait, and they had been, both of them, twenty minutes late.
Adriel smiled at the memory and reached for a shirt.
He felt good in everything lately. Not always; the bad days still came.
Some mornings he caught his reflection and flinched before he could stop himself, old habits surfacing like ghosts.
But more often than not now, he looked and didn't look away.
He saw himself and thought, that's me, and kept moving.
He chose a shirt. Dark green, soft fabric, one that Landen had touched last week and said this color on you and trailed off like he'd run out of words for how much he liked it. Adriel buttoned it slowly, watching himself in the mirror.
His reflection looked back.
Jenna had left about an hour ago. A shift, she'd said, one she couldn't get out of.
But she'd given him his present before she went: a framed sketch she'd done of the two of them, pulled from a photo taken years ago.
Both of them laughing at something he couldn't remember.
She'd captured it perfectly; the way her head tipped back, the way his eyes crinkled, the easy, unguarded joy of a moment neither of them had thought to preserve until she did.
She'd hugged him at the door. Longer than usual, her arms tight around him, her face pressed into his shoulder.
"Happy birthday," she'd said, pulling back, eyes bright. "I'm so proud of you. You know that, right?"
He'd nodded. Hadn't trusted his voice.
Now he stood in front of the mirror, and thought about how different this year felt from the last. From every year before it.
He had a job he loved. Friends who showed up.
And he had Landen.
They'd been public for a while now; both at Grayson House and to their friends and family.
Landen had been true to his word. Once the decision was made, there was no half-measure, no hedging.
He'd told his colleagues, told his friends, introduced Adriel as his boyfriend with the same quiet certainty he brought to everything.
And still, sometimes, it caught Adriel off guard. The casualness of it. The way Landen reached for his hand in public without checking who was watching first. The way he said my boyfriend without lowering his voice.
Adriel had spent so long being hidden. By Zach, who had never quite wanted to be seen with him.
By his own shame, the deep-rooted belief that he was something to be kept in the dark, brought out only when no one else was looking.
By the years of conditioning that told him his body was wrong, his wants were wrong, his very existence required apology.
Being loved openly still felt, on certain days, like a language he was learning. He understood it. He was getting fluent. But every now and then a word surprised him, and he had to stop and marvel at it before he could move on.
He checked himself in the mirror one last time. Ran a hand through his hair. Let it fall where it wanted.
Landen picked him up at eight.
Adriel saw him through the window first; leaning against the car, dark coat, dark trousers, hair pushed back, a cocky half-smile spread across his lips.
The sight of him made something in Adriel's chest lurch, warm and immediate, and he stood there for an extra moment just watching.
Just letting himself appreciate the view.
Then he went downstairs.
The night air hit him as he stepped outside, cool and clean. Landen straightened when he saw him, his eyes moving over Adriel with open, unhurried appreciation.
"You look incredible," Landen said.
"So do you." Adriel meant it so completely it ached.
Landen kissed him on the sidewalk. Right there, in the streetlight, one hand on his jaw.
They drove. Adriel recognized the route before they arrived; the small, cozy restaurant Landen had taken him to about a month ago, tucked down a side street.
Adriel had loved it. The food, the atmosphere, the intimacy of it.
The way Landen had held his hand across the table and talked about nothing important for hours.
The fact that Landen remembered made something warm expand in his chest.
"You remembered," Adriel said as they parked.
"I remember everything about you."
It was such a Landen thing to say. Matter-of-fact. Unembellished. Adriel had to look out the window for a moment to collect himself.
They walked in. The restaurant was dim. Warm. Adriel could see the tables in the back, the familiar exposed brick, the low lighting…
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"
The sound hit him like a wall.
Adriel stopped dead in the doorway. His hand was still in Landen's. His mouth fell open.
People. Everywhere. Rising from tables, from booths, crowding toward him with glasses raised and faces beaming. Not strangers; his people. All of them.