Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Cameron
Gary glanced at our surroundings. “Nice café.”
“Theo’s recommendation. He comes here to work.”
I could see why Theo liked the place. The aromas of coffee, chocolate, buttery pastries, and spices permeated the air, and through the large window the world passed by. Most of the tables along the wall were populated by people working on laptops.
“Now tell me why we’re talking here instead of at the flat.”
Because I don’t want Theo to hear us.
Except it wasn’t just about shielding Theo.
I watched steam curl up from my cup, grounding myself before I answered. I needed Gary to understand this, not hear it as an accusation.
“There are a few reasons,” I said carefully.
Gary looked at me, wariness etched across his face.
“First,” I continued, “because Theo doesn’t need to sit ten feet away while we dissect him like a problem to be solved. He’s done that his whole life. I won’t let it happen in his own home.”
Gary’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt.
“Second, because if we talked there, everything we say would land on him like a verdict. And this—” I gestured between us “—isn’t about passing judgment.”
I glanced around the café again, taking in the low murmur of conversation, the clink of cups, the ordinary intimacy of strangers minding their own business.
“And third,” I added, my voice steadier, “because I need neutral ground. Somewhere I’m not your kid brother. Some place where I’m not Theo’s boyfriend. Where I’m just a man telling his brother how things actually are.”
Gary exhaled slowly. “You didn’t want me storming out again.”
“No,” I agreed. “And I didn’t want you storming in.”
That earned me a rueful huff of laughter.
I wrapped my hands around my mug, relishing its warmth. “At the flat, you’d be reacting. Here, you have to listen.”
Gary studied me for a long moment, then nodded once. “Okay.”
I met his gaze, my heart pounding, and resolved to speak my mind.
“This conversation isn’t about you protecting me,” I said. “It’s about you seeing me.”
The noise of the café swelled around us, a cocoon of normalcy.
Maybe this talk might actually change something.
Gary rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’ve been thinking about how long I’ve been wrong.”
I raised my eyebrows. “That sounds ominous.”
Gary chuckled. “You remember when you were fifteen and you refused once to let me walk you to school?”
I snorted. “I said you’d ruin my reputation.”
“You said I’d ‘loom.’”
“Yeah, and I stand by that.”
Gary shook his head. “That was the first time it occurred to me that you weren’t going to need me the way I thought you would.”
I bit my lip. “You didn’t lose me, Gary. I just… grew.”
“I know that now, but I panicked anyway. Because if I’m not protecting you, then what’s my job?”
I leaned back in my chair. “You’re my brother, not my bodyguard.”
Gary swallowed. “I treated you as though you didn’t know what you were walking into.”
My voice was firm. “But I do.”
“Do you?”
I didn’t answer immediately. “Yes,” I said at last. “And also… no, not always. But that’s true of anything worth doing.”
Gary gazed at his hands. “Theo scares me.”
My lips twitched. “That makes two of us.” Gary jerked his head up, startled, and I smiled. “He’s not dangerous, but he is afraid of himself. And that can look like control from the outside.”
Another slow nod. “I saw that. I just didn’t see you.”
“I know. You saw the power imbalance. The painting.”
“And I completely missed the part where you chose him,” Gary finished.
“Yes.”
Gary stared at me. “He looks at you like you’re oxygen.”
There was suddenly a rock in my throat. “And he thinks he’s poison.”
Gary winced. “That’s on me too.”
It was my turn to shake my head. “No, that’s older than you.” The way I saw it, Theo’s upbringing might have played a role in that.
Another silence settled, but this one wasn’t as sharp.
“I won’t tell you how to love him,” Gary said finally. “I don’t get a vote. But I do need to know one thing.”
I met his gaze once more. “What?”
“If he runs again, will you be okay?”
I didn’t hesitate. “I’ll survive.”
Gary expelled a breath. “That wasn’t the question.”
I thought for a moment. “I won’t let him disappear without saying something this time, but I won’t force him to stay either.”
“That’s healthier than anything I was doing.”
I smiled. “You taught me to stand up for myself. Even if you forgot that.”
Gary’s eyes shone. “You’re not a kid anymore.”
“No.” Another smile. “But I still want my brother.”
He reached across the table, hesitated, then rested his hand over my wrist. “I’m proud of you.”
I blinked. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. And I’m sorry it took me this long to say it.”
My throat was tight again. “Apology accepted.”
We sat there for a while longer, not talking, the hard part finally said.
I didn’t just defend my feelings for Theo. Gary saw the truth of them.
I sipped my coffee. “So what now? Are you going back to Manchester?”
Gary chuckled. “Trying to get rid of me so soon? Really feeling the love here, bro.” Before I could say another word, he pulled his phone from his pocket.
“Actually, I was planning on sticking around a day or two. You see, there’s this exhibition opening on Friday, and I hear there’s this up-and-coming artist who’s done this amazing painting.
So I’d like to go and see it.” He scrolled, then held it up so I could see my portrait.
His gaze found mine. “Besides, I want to see this up close.” His lips twitched.
“Capturing his dick alone had to take a ton of paint.” I widened my eyes and he grinned.
“Kiddo, I’m allowed to say that. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve seen it up close and personal.
” Then he coughed. “Except I think you might end up seeing it a lot more than I ever did.” His face flushed.
I let out a wry chuckle. “You just thought about me having sex, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, and I don’t want to do that again. Ever. Okay?” He shuddered.
I held my hands up. “I’ll keep my sex life to myself, I promise.”
Gary was doing what he’d done my whole life—trying to mend life’s little tears with humour.
It was starting to work.
Theo
Cameron and Gary had been gone about twenty minutes, and I was still sitting on the couch, not frozen, not braced for impact the moment they came through that door, but thinking.
The flat felt different without Cameron’s presence in it, filled with an expectant air like a pause in music that isn’t silence so much as a breath being taken.
Gary apologised.
That alone still felt unreal.
I pressed my palms to my thighs, feeling the solidity of flesh, the here-and-now of my body instead of the old instinct to float somewhere above it all. For years, moments like this would have sent me spiralling into contingency planning and self-recrimination. I knew the shape of those thoughts:
What if I mess this up? What if I hurt him? What if I’m not built for this?
But they didn’t come. Instead, something quieter settled in.
Cameron didn’t push. He didn’t try to rescue me. He didn’t ask me to be better overnight.
Cameron stayed.
I exhaled, and what dawned was the slow realisation that the knot in my chest wasn’t fear anymore—it was anticipation.
Possibility. For the first time, the idea of a future didn’t feel like something I had to earn through perfection.
It felt mutual, like something we would build together, missteps and all.
I thought about Cameron’s hand on my wrist earlier—not taking, not leading, but there. Waiting.
My pulse quickened, but not with panic.
With want.
I don’t want to control this moment. I want to give it to him.
There was something I needed to ask Cameron, and I had to trust him enough to accept his answer.
The front door opened, and I knew exactly what I was going to say.
Cameron took off his jacket, and I peered past him, frowning.
“What have you done with Gary?”
He chuckled. “I didn’t kill him, if that’s what you’re asking. Right now, he’s on his way back to the Premier Inn where he stayed last night, to book a few more nights. He’s coming to the exhibition Friday.”
Relief flooded me. “Then you’re okay?”
He smiled. “We’re not where we were, but that’s no bad thing. Things have changed, for the better.”
I took a breath. “I thought I’d ruined everything. With him. With you.”
Cameron closed the gap between us and pressed his forehead to mine. “You didn’t. You haven’t.”
Having him so close after the rawness of the morning was a balm to my soul.
It felt as though my body stopped vibrating with held-in panic.
Cameron put his arms around me and I leaned into him, allowing myself to be held instead of hovering on the edge of escape.
His hand was warm and steady between my shoulder blades, his thumb stroking in slow, reassuring circles.
“You don’t have to perform,” he murmured. “You don’t have to lead. You don’t have to be anything but here.”
I swallowed. “That’s new.”
I felt rather than heard his chuckle. “I know.” He paused. “Can we continue this conversation in the bedroom? Because right now I have this urge to be as close to you as I can get, and that doesn’t involve clothes.”
My heartbeat raced.
“There’s something I need to ask you.” It was easier when I couldn’t see his face.
Cameron stilled. “Okay.”
I let out my breath in a long exhale, searching for the right words.
“I’ve spent most of my adult life being in control. In music, in my work, even in sex.” I huffed. “Especially in sex.”
Cameron didn’t interrupt.
“It wasn’t always a choice,” I continued, “but it became a rule. If I stayed quiet, if I stayed composed, if I stayed on top of things—literally and otherwise—I didn’t have to feel exposed.
” I stroked his neck, his shoulder. “I learned how to give pleasure without asking for it back. How to be present without letting go. And for a long time, I told myself that was enough.”
“But it isn’t anymore.”
I looked at him then. “No, it isn’t.” Another slow intake of breath. “Now I want to feel what happens when I stop holding everything together.”
Cameron’s breathing caught, but he didn’t move.
I cupped his chin. “I’m asking because I trust you. Because with you, letting go doesn’t feel like losing myself.” Another pause. “It feels like coming home.”
Cameron’s eyes glistened. “Are you sure?”
I nodded without hesitation. “I’m not asking because I think I should, but because I want to.”
Cameron’s face glowed. “Then let me take care of you.”
He took me by the hand and led me into the bedroom.
He gave me a gentle push, and I ended up on my back.
Cameron stretched out next to me, and we kissed, a constant stream of leisurely intimate kisses.
Clothes fell away gradually, deliberately, Cameron’s fingers unbuttoning my shirt one slow inch at a time, kissing each piece of skin he revealed.
His fingers traced patterns over my ribs, exploratory but not demanding.
And when he pressed a kiss above my heart, I let go.
I allowed myself to feel.
Then Cameron slid down my body, licking a warm stripe over my stomach, making me moan, loud and unrestrained.
Cameron lifted his head, his eyes bright. “That’s it. I want to hear every sound you make.” He took the head of my stiffening cock into his mouth, and my moan turned involuntary as he worshipped me with lips and tongue, slow and purposeful, until I was shaking, twisting my fingers in the sheets.
When Cameron crawled up my body and settled his weight on me, I gasped when his solid dick slid over mine.
“Tell me what you want,” he whispered.
I swallowed. “You. All of you.”
He kissed me. “Then I’m yours.” He slid his hand down my thigh, coaxing my legs apart.
I exhaled sharply, and he kissed me again.
“I’ll take care of you.” He reached into the bedside drawer for the lube, and I held my breath.
He brushed slick fingers over my hole, and each movement sent sparks jolting through me.
“Cameron—”
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, kissing along my throat as he prepped me gently.
Lovingly.
Our mouths collided as he fucked me with his fingers, and I moaned, whimpered, begged for more. Every noise I’d been told to hide spilled out like a confession.
“Please,” I whispered. “I want—I need—”
“I know.” At last, he pushed my knees toward my chest, then pressed the head of his dick to my slick hole. When Cameron was finally inside me, each glide unhurried and perfect, I groaned.
“Fuck, I can feel every inch of you.” I clutched at his back, pulling him closer, needing him deeper. “More. Please— please—”
Cameron groaned into my neck. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
He moved, slow at first, then building, each thrust syncing with my breath, my moans, the quiet please please please that I couldn’t keep inside me.
“Oh—God—Cameron—”
Cameron bit gently at my neck. “Louder.” He thrust deeper. “I want to hear you.”
I broke, and the sounds that fell from my lips were raw and devastating. I tightened
around Cameron, pulling him in hard, meeting every movement, shaking with pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.
I arched up, gasping his name, and he whispered into my ear.
“You’re perfect like this.”
I sobbed, not from pain but relief, and pulled him closer. “Don’t stop,” I begged. “Please… don’t stop.”
Cameron thrust deeper, slower, kissing me through every tremor. And when I came, I cried out, loud, wrecked…
He groaned, thrust once, twice, and came inside me, collapsing over me, shaking, his breathing harsh and shallow.
We lay entwined in each other’s arms, sweaty, trembling, our chests heaving.
“I didn’t know it could feel like that,” I murmured.
Cameron laughed, and I felt it all the way through me. “Ditto. This could easily become my second favourite thing to do.”
“What’s your number one?”
He kissed my damp forehead. “Having you inside me.”
I lay in his arms, feeling whole, feeling wanted.
Loved. Safe.
And I didn’t want to lose this.
“Don’t leave.”
Cameron pulled me tight against him. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Now I believed him.