Say It Again

Chapter Seventeen

IT WAS a week later, and Aaron was bustling around his house, trying to clean before Daniel arrived. He’d gotten him an apology gift and baked him apology bread. He had a lot to be sorry for. Not only had he missed the concert and ruined their evening, but then he’d sat paralyzed like he’d been stunned still while Daniel spilled the contents of his heart.

Love. It might have been a mushroom-induced spillage, but that was what he’d said to him. That was what he felt for him.

His brain had pulsed with white-hot electricity, pleading for him to say it back. It was so easy for some people. For some people, people like Daniel, it poured from them all unfussy and whole-souled. For him, it was impossible.

The last time he’d said it, he’d been a child. The last time he’d said it, it’d landed on cold blue eyes, hatefully clouded, the exact color of his own. Blue eyes that were already gone, but he’d said it anyway. He’d said it, and then his dad left.

This was different. Of course it was different, because unlike then, he had resources now. He had utility and foresight and a complete fucking bag of tricks.

He had money.

He wasn’t a child anymore—he was a protector. Which was why he had a plan. A plan to protect the precious things around him.

A knock sounded at the door. He opened it to find Daniel grinning, his pouty lips wrapped around a red twist of licorice. He held his phone near his mouth while a woman on the other end—his mom?—spoke about a new carwash that had opened. He mouthed, Hi, mister .

Aaron sighed, half smiling, fully delirious. He might have been unable to say those three words, but he could show them. It was part of the plan.

“Okay, Mama, I have to go. I just got to Aaron’s,” Daniel interrupted her, then said to him, “What smells so good in here? Are you baking things? Mama, Aaron bakes things. ”

“Oh my gaaaash, does he?” Daniel’s mom said in a charming Wisconsin accent. “What time will you guys be here tonight? Oh, I’m so excited. You haven’t brought a boy home since that one guy—what was his name? Peter something?”

“Oh, who can remember that far back?” Daniel flapped a palm. “So, anyway—”

“C’mon, Danny, you know. Wasn’t he a shrink or something? He did not treat you right. Remember when he said you were too touchy-feely?”

“So, anyway, Mom!” Daniel hard-blinked, and Aaron chuckled. “We’ll leave here in about an hour.”

“Butchie is going to be so excited to see you. He has a new hotel for his trains he’s been dying to show someone.”

“Aww.” Daniel’s shoulders melted as he smiled, a palm pressed to his chest. “Tell Butchie I say hi.”

The way Daniel spoke about his stepdad was with genuine reverence.

“Butchie!” his mom yelled into the phone.

Daniel held the phone at a safer distance.

“Danny says hi!”

He held it farther.

“Oh honey, you’ve made my day. Tell Aaron to bring his appetite.”

Aaron’s heart rate spiked a bit when Daniel winked at him. He was doing this. He was meeting Daniel’s mom. It was thrilling and scary, but he nodded his encouragement. This was a layer that would be excellent for the plan.

“See you soon. And hey, if we could not call me the name ? That’d be swell—”

“Bye, my little Flapjack Dancake. Love you.”

Daniel ended the call and held a finger to Aaron’s lips. “Let’s not comment. I’ve tried to train her, but it’s useless. God, is it bread?” Daniel sniffed the air as he charged past him and into the kitchen. “Are you baking bread?”

“Banana bread.”

“Aaron.” He spun around, face aglow. He was still in his dance gear—satiny black capris and an oversized striped sailor’s shirt tied in a knot on the side, exposing his stomach. “That’s the best kind of bread. Is it ready? ”

“Not yet. Here.” Aaron guided him toward the sofa and unwedged a tan shoebox from beside the sofa. “I wanted to talk to you about some stuff before we leave, but first, I got you something.”

“You got me a gift?”

“Nothing big. An apology.” He rolled his lips. “For missing the concert with you and Olivia.”

Daniel’s eyes flashed to his. They hadn’t spoken about the reason why , and hopefully Daniel still preferred it that way. Just like they hadn’t spoken about the other thing. The thing Daniel had said. The thing Aaron had not said back.

“You’ve apologized a hundred times. Forgiven. Forgotten. You didn’t have to get me anyth—” Daniel froze when he lifted the lid on the box.

“What do you think?” he asked when Daniel didn’t budge. “You like ’em?”

Daniel’s expression stayed stunned as he lifted one of the shoes out by its long, coiled strap. “Wait. You got me high heels?”

He shrugged. “Just a little something to wear around the bedroom. And the kitchen.”

“Aaron.” Daniel shook his head and blinked. “You bought me a thousand-dollar pair of heels to, quote, ‘wear around the bedroom’?”

“And the kitchen.” Aaron nodded toward the kitchen. “Put ’em on and bend over to check on the banana—wait, how do you know how much they are?”

“Everyone knows how much they are. They’re, like, famous.” Daniel flopped onto his back, strapped on one of the red-bottomed stilettos, and extended his leg into the air. He bubbled in goofy laughter. “This is…. I’ve never owned heels. I don’t know how to walk in them.”

“I don’t think you’ll be doing much walking.”

“Is this your kink? Have we just unlocked a new kink?”

“This? Nah, this is just something to wear around the—”

“The bedroom.” Daniel admired the shoe, his tongue sliding between his teeth as he twisted his leg side to side. “Got it.”

And the kitchen. “Okay, then there’s one more thing. Here, sit up.” Aaron took his hands and pulled him up. “I need you to have an open mind for this one.”

“Ooh, another not-kink kink? ”

He squeezed Daniel’s hands and gazed directly into his eyes. This was it. The plan. The plan that was going to reconcile him being a dysfunctional mess. “I want to buy the studio for you.”

Daniel cocked his head, his eyes pinging around. “Excuse me?”

“I’ve thought a lot about it, and it’d be an honor to buy it for you.”

Daniel’s eyebrows shot up.

“I have money saved, and you need money, and you are so important to me, and I want to help. What do you say?”

Daniel blinked for a long time. “That’s sweet and all, but you’re joking, right?”

Aaron cut his eyes to the side. Of course he wasn’t joking. There was nothing funny about it.

“You’re serious.” Daniel widened his eyes. “No. Aaron. Obviously, no.”

“Well. Okay, I don’t have to pay for the whole thing. What if I just pay for a portion of it? Like, three-quarters or something. How about that?”

“Pay for three-quarters of my business? That’s absurd.”

“How’s that absurd? Then how about half?” But Daniel’s expression tightened further at that. “Geeze, okay. Um, rent? What if I take over your rent and utilities and maybe your cell phone if you’re open to it—”

“Aaron.” Daniel’s expression had transformed into a glare. “This isn’t a discussion we’re having.”

“But why not?”

“Because it’s weird as hell.”

“How’s it weird to want to help you? What if I just paid for—?”

“And what if I talked to you about interior design?” Daniel hitched an eyebrow. “If you’re looking for something to do with all your money, then let’s talk about that.”

Aaron snapped his teeth shut.

“Interior design is something you adore.” Daniel flapped a hand around the apartment. “But instead of pursuing that, you want to do what again? Help me buy my studio? Pay for my cell phone? How does that make any sense?”

“That’s different. This is your dream, and I can help you make it happen.”

“But what about your dreams?” Daniel pressed a finger into his chest. “If you want to invest in something, invest in you . ”

Daniel didn’t understand. He didn’t get that Aaron investing in the studio was investing in his dreams. This was so much more important than anything else he did. He might not have been able to say it, but he could show Daniel how he felt about him. If love was money, then he’d give and give until it was enough. You want it? It’s yours. Anything you want is yours. If love was money, then he’d make so much that no one would ever leave again.

“Look.” Aaron squeezed his hands. “You don’t have to answer today—”

“I think I just did answer.”

“—but I’d like you to think about it.” He forced his face calm when what it really wanted to do was scowl. It shouldn’t have been this difficult to give someone money. “I’m offering you a solution, kid. The least you could do is think about it.”

“Then the least you could do is have a conversation about interior design with me. A real one.”

Aaron didn’t regret much, but he might have regretted ever telling him about the interior design.

“Because the least you could do is admit you’d be fantastic at it. You could admit you’d wholeheartedly love it.”

“No offense”—he swirled a finger in front of Daniel’s face—“but do you know what this is?”

“Manipulation?” Daniel smacked his finger away. “Duh, Aaron. Why do you think I’m doing it?”

“It’s a false sense of hope. I’m not going into interior design. Like I said, there is nothing I can do to make what I make now.”

“Would that be the end of the world?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Why? He shrugged, searching the walls for a way to explain it. The bigger question was why were they so not on the same page? Wasn’t it obvious why ? Wasn’t it a universal experience? If he didn’t have money, he’d have zero control. If he didn’t have money, what would he have to offer?

“It just is.”

Daniel folded his arms. “But you’re making assumptions. You’re assuming you won’t make as much. What if you did—?”

“False.” He covered Daniel’s mouth with his palm. “False sense of hope. ”

Daniel’s eyes got all squinty, fiery even as he peeled Aaron’s hand away from his mouth to start sucking on one of his fingers. Which… yes. It took all of three seconds for Aaron’s dick to twitch alive.

That was until Daniel bit it.

“Gah!” Aaron ripped his hand away and shook it out. His first reaction was to haul Daniel over his lap and spank him. “Get over here, you little—”

“My little what, Aaron?” Daniel wriggled from his grip. “My little desire to see you doing something you’d love?”

He held up the bitten finger. It also happened to be the middle one. “Apologize to me. I accept oral apologies.”

“Oh, I’m not sorry.” Daniel snagged the other heel from the box, plopped into an armchair, and strapped it up. “I’m not sorry for wanting you to have your dream job, but if you don’t want to talk about how wonderful your future could be? That’s fine. Let’s talk about other stuff.”

When Daniel stood, Aaron stood, and for some reason, they stared each other down like two cowboys in a spaghetti western.

Daniel tipped his head. “Like how I’ve never noticed how short you are.”

Aaron tried not to smile. He plunged his gaze down Daniel’s body. “Yeah, you know you’re still shorter than me—”

“ Itty bitty .” Daniel strolled around him in a slinky, sultry circle, clicking the heels on the wood. “I almost didn’t even see you there.”

Aaron couldn’t keep his mouth from flinching as he rolled his eyes. “You know you wearing heels doesn’t suddenly change my height?”

“Should I probably drive tonight?” Daniel dragged a single fingernail around Aaron’s midline, scratching the fabric of his shirt. “Can you even see over the steering wheel?”

“That’s a genuinely ridiculous thing to say.”

“What’s the weather like down there?”

“Wouldn’t know, sweetheart. Because I’m six-fucking-two—”

“Cloudy with a chance of Napoleon Syndrome?”

Aaron tried to snatch Daniel’s waist, but he swiveled away like a sexy Gumby ninja.

“How do I put this nicely? I prefer top-shelf guys.” Daniel pressed their backs flush and slowly descended with his spine arched, dragging his body down Aaron’s. “Sorry but must be this tall to ride. ”

Daniel yelped when Aaron seized him and flung his little body onto the couch. What a troublemaker. He was all long lines of slender muscle and blue veins under ivory skin with this pouty, fuckable, pillow-perfect mouth that just begged to be roughed up. It was everything about him. The looks. The sass. The delicate frame. It brought out the animal in Aaron.

“You,” he said, breathy, pinning Daniel to the couch, working the buttons undone on the satiny capris. “You’re so goddamn ridiculous.”

“Aww, you want to fuck me in the heels?”

Aaron nodded, leaning in to devour him in a kiss. “I want to fuck you in the heels—”

“Here’s the deal with that.” Daniel jammed a stiletto into his shoulder and pushed him back.

Aaron gasped, his mouth hanging open as he blinked down at it wide-eyed. How’d he even do that? It was more impressive than anything. It was a superpower to be so flexible.

“You and I are going to have a conversation about interior design. We are going to talk timeline and logistics. We are going to see what it would take.”

What a little shit. Aaron couldn’t help but growl as he smoothed a hand down Daniel’s leg.

“Yes?” Daniel held his gaze as he reached to stroke him over his jeans. “Do we have a deal?”

Of course, he’d gotten played, but he was also so hard his mouth was starting to water. “Deal.”

“You swear?”

“I swear.”

“Good boy.” Daniel wrapped his legs around his waist and yanked him into him. “Now, don’t stop until I’m shaking.”

AARON FOLLOWED Daniel up the walkway of his childhood home in quaint St. Charles, Missouri. Its A-frame and shades of avocado and institutional green screamed the peasant blouses and pet rocks of the 1970s.

Pink tea roses bloomed on either side of a wooden porch, where a tattered swing, once painted French vanilla, squeaked each time the wind blew. A wreath of blue ceramic birds hung on the door, and the faded doormat below their feet read “Welcome. I hope you brought chocolate. ”

His palms were sweating. It was so official, meeting Daniel’s mom. Meeting Mr. Greene hadn’t been half this amount of pressure, because Daniel didn’t seem to value anything the guy said, but meeting his mom? Geez, the gravity. It was the proverbial rope in gym class.

Daniel tapped on the door a few times, then opened it, the aroma of garlic, toasted cheese, and something nutty hitting them. Daniel was sweet to hold his hand the way he did, even though it was sweating as he led him into the kitchen where semisheer curtains veiled the windows, “Brown Eyed Girl” played on a Bluetooth speaker, and mismatched ceramic jars lined the counters, each reading Cookies in different fonts.

“Hi, Mama,” Daniel said, his smile at full tilt.

Daniel’s mom spun around from the oven and gasped. “Honey! I didn’t hear you come in.”

She clutched bagged shredded cheese with one hand, her chest with the other, and she barely reached Daniel’s shoulder in height. They had the same hair, the same eyes, except hers were shielded by tortoiseshell glasses. She pushed up on her toes and gripped him into a hug.

“Oh my goodness, when was the last time you ate?” She sandwiched Daniel’s torso with her hands. “Oh, honey. This is not good.”

“Mom, I’ve literally been the same weight for like twelve years. This is Aaron.”

Here we go. He offered his hand. “Such a pleasure to meet you. You go by Barbara?”

“Jiminy Crickets, look at you.” From where she stood, she looked like a toddler begging to be picked up with her arms outstretched.

He leaned down so she could hug him too.

“Dancake,” she shrieked in Aaron’s ear, still hugging him. “You couldn’t find someone just the least bit attractive?” She released him to chuckle at herself, a very Daniel thing to do. “Well, I can see why you’re smitten with this one. Like a more handsome JKF Junior, aren’t ya, Aaron?”

“You’re kind.”

“And call me Barbie.”

He matched her bright-eyed smile and softened a little. How approachable. How engaging. Like her son.

“JFK Jr. is one of those names I’ve heard, but I have no idea who they are,” Daniel said. “Is it an Olympic swimmer? Why do I feel like that’s a swimmer? ”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, sweetie.” Then she leaned in toward Daniel and whispered from the side of her mouth, “All you need to know is he was a very steamy human—so Aaron! Glad you’re here. Pour yourselves some wine. Butchie won’t drink the moscato with me.”

“That’s ’cause it tastes like weasel piss,” a voice boomed from the stairwell.

“Butchie,” Daniel squealed and ran to throw his arms around a lanky, homespun man with squinty eyes and a ballcap twisted backward. He wore a plaid shirt and jeans that sagged, held up by a weathered brown belt that looked like it’d seen some things.

Butchie lifted Daniel off the floor in a hug and smiled at Aaron over his shoulder. “So, this is him,” he said in an old-western-movie accent. “Nice to meet you, son. I’m Butch.”

“Aaron. And it’s an honor. I’ve heard wonderful things about you both.”

“Whatever you heard.” Butch peeked over his shoulder, his voice lowering to a whisper. “I was young, and I needed the money.” His eyes squinted even more when he chuckled.

Joke or not, Aaron laughed at how hard he could relate.

“That your car outside?” Butch said. “That ain’t the F-type?

“Yes, sir. The R-coupe.”

Butch’s eyebrows shot up. “Supercharged? What’s the acceleration?”

“Nothin’ to sixty, three-point-five.”

“Is this English?” Daniel asked.

“Wheweee, that car is bad.” Butch slapped Daniel on the back, sending him staggering forward a few steps. “We’re outta beer. Should we take a little ride? I could drive if you don’t want to.” That whole request was performed with a sprightly little shoulder dance Aaron would pay money to see again.

“Butchie, no,” Barbie yelled, her head inside the oven as she tested a casserole with a thermometer. “You do not ask people if you can drive their vehicles.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Aaron hastened to say. “I let Daniel drive it all the time.”

“See,” Butch hollered back at her. “He doesn’t care if it gets destroyed. He lets Daniel drive it.”

Daniel scoffed. “You total one Mini Cooper, and all of a sudden, you’re an endangerment . ”

“Beer run.” Butch kissed Barbie on the cheek. “We’ll be back, woman.”

“Beer run.” Aaron kissed Daniel on the cheek. Was he smiling like a goof? He was totally smiling like a goof, but this experience was already singular. Special. He kissed him again. “We’ll be back, kid.”

DANIEL SANK into a chair as they left through the front door, laughing about some inside foreign-engine-related humor, no doubt. He fogged his wineglass with his smile.

“Lord have mercy, Danny.” His mom ruffled his hair. “What a looker.”

“Is he?” He fawned, dipping back dramatically in his chair. “I haven’t noticed.”

“Oh, is that right? Well, you sure seem extra sparkly for not noticing .”

Daniel sighed and tried not to gaze so adoringly at the front door. The love they’d just made left him feeling a bit out of control of his body, like a part of it was off on a beer run somewhere. Plus, he could still feel him every time he readjusted in his seat. Quite the distraction, indeed.

“Think you’ll make it ten whole minutes without him?”

“No, I think I might die.” He fanned himself. “Should I call him?”

“Dancake.” She chuckled as she refilled his wine. “You might be in trouble, sweet pea.”

Because he’s a hooker? Or because I would commit first-degree arson for him?

“Are you boys being safe? Using protection?” And it started. The stern eyebrow furl and all. “Trust me, honey, chlamydia sounds like no big deal until it’s sophomore year of college and pantyhose are all the rage—”

“Mom, I will pirouette right off this roof.”

“Okay.” She held up her palms. “Chill out. But you like who he is? He’s good to you?”

“ Like him?” He groaned. “Mama, I’m so bubbleheaded, irresponsibly, head-over-Christian-Louboutin-heels in love with that man, I feel like I might explode all over this kitchen.”

She gazed at him for a tick. Then it all happened in slow motion. First, she cupped her hands over her mouth. Then her forehead started to crinkle .

“Oh no,” he said. “Oh, hey, nooo. It’s okay.”

But he knew that look. He was king of that look. She was about to cry.

“No, no, no, Mama.” He shot up for a paper towel, but the opportunity to blot it away had passed. Behind the glare of her glasses, big tears spilled over onto her cheeks. “Oh shit.”

“Danny,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “Language.”

“Well, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“I’m not crying.” Her nose was all red and splotchy. “It’s just, oh, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that. It’s so snug and magical. Like a queer little Christmas movie.”

“Mom, stop,” he chuckled, wafting at his eyes because of course it was making him tear up. It was a taste of what Aaron probably felt anytime they spoke of anything with an emotional undercurrent. Heaven forbid they ever watch a queer little Christmas movie together. “If you don’t stop, then I’m going to start, and they can’t come back to both of us crying.”

“You’re right.” She ripped off her glasses to blow her nose into the paper towel loud as an elephant. “Did I mess up my makeup?”

Yes. The whole situation, amiss to begin with, now looked dire.

“Don’t you worry.” He patted her hand, then scurried off to the bathroom and returned with her makeup bag. “Dancake to the rescue.”

“So,” she said as he wiped her under eyes clean. “Have you told him? You know? Told him how bubbleheaded you feel?”

“I have.” His smile faded as he rubbed his lips together. “Let me ask you something. Do you think I should be worried that he didn’t say it back?”

“Oh, he didn’t? Hmph . Well, why do you think that is?”

He shrugged as he began to redraw her eyeliner, only better because he took the liberty of adding a pointy cat-eye tip. “Maybe because he doesn’t feel that way about me.”

“Danny. Don’t get in your head about it. People experience life in different strides. If Aaron hasn’t said it yet, I’m sure he has a reason.”

Because Aaron didn’t feel that way about him…?

“And the reason doesn’t necessarily mean because he doesn’t feel that way about you.”

Daniel snorted as he patted highlighter along her cheekbone.

“Butchie took a while to say it back. ”

“Really?” He squinted. “But he’s bonkers about you.”

“He took a while to say it.” She nodded. “Get out of your head. Enjoy the heck out of that boy. Gosh, I sure would.” Then in a quiet mumble, “JFK Junior.”

“Speaking of Butchie.” He patted the finishing touches of a cream blush on the apples of her cheeks and held up a compact mirror. “He’s a lucky man.”

“Oh Lordy.” Her face lit up as she twisted her head side to side. “Well, look at me. I’m ready for the Miss America. What should my talent be?”

“Hmm. Baked ziti?”

“Oh shit.” She ran to check the oven.

“Mama.” He smiled, as cheeky as possible. “Language.”

“Dear Santa.” Butchie busted through the front door, the presence of a thunderstorm. “I know what I want for Christmas. It’s that car, baby.” He spun Daniel’s mom around from the stove and kissed her. “Who’s this she-devil?”

She giggled and swatted at him.

Aaron stepped out from behind Butchie, a six-pack of beer tucked beneath his arm, wearing the widest, most adorable smile. “That was a blast. A blast . He’s hysterical. They both are and thank you.” He kissed Daniel. “Thank you for bringing me here. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

Garlic bread, a platter of pasta, a bowl of bagged salad mix, and two different kinds of iced tea weighed down the dining room table.

His mom filled their plates with enough food to get them a little high. They ate and laughed with their whole bodies while Butchie told stories of his days as a bass player in a rock band and his former life as a hand on a Montana cattle ranch. He talked about his and Barbie’s dreams of visiting the Catskills and why model trains were a good investment of one’s time—building something from nothing healed the soul.

His mom asked them questions about where they went out in the city, and “Ooh, what kinda food they got down there?” How were people dressing now during the fancy nightlife scene, and would they be too embarrassed to take her and Butchie to a drag show as she “Sure would love to see one in real life. All those glitzy wigs and fairy-tale gowns. ”

When the question arose, “What do you do for work, Aaron?” Aaron flashed Daniel a smirk and responded, “Interior design.”

They’d discussed this one in the car ride here. It’d probably be best to keep that little secret to themselves, and speaking interior design aloud was the first step to imagining it.

“He’s a natural,” Daniel said, gazing into Aaron’s eyes, squeezing his hand beneath the table. “He’s going to open his own firm someday, and it’s going to be wildly successful. You just wait and see.”

Aaron tugged his hand to his lips for a kiss.

AARON LEANED forward in the car and waved back at Daniel’s mom and stepdad where they stood holding one another on the porch. He’d never seen a relationship modeled so well. It was almost baffling. “Butchie and Barbie, huh?”

“I know,” Daniel said. “How ridiculous is that?”

“Ridiculous. And adorable. They could not get more adorable if they tried, and they don’t have to try. How do we end up like that?”

“Deliriously happy? I don’t know. Until you, my plan was to blow a lot of frogs and see how things went.”

“Kiss.” He grazed Daniel’s cheek with the back of his hand. “ Kiss a lot of frogs.”

“Yeah.” Daniel nuzzled into his hand. “I did that too.”

The song in the background as they drove down the interstate, slow and dreamy with these faint, sultry lyrics, was the perfect mood for a perfect night, and it was heartwarming to watch Daniel flirt with sleep from where he’d curled himself in the seat like he was just so comfortable. For someone as high-strung as he was, he could sleep wherever. On the couch. Inside Aaron’s arms. On top of him. It’d been invigorating being his bed—the person on whom he’d sleep—even with the occasional drool puddle. It all felt so… real.

Aaron waved a hand in front of Daniel’s face. Out. He’d mentioned needing to stay at his house tonight, something about different dance shoes, but screw it. They’d figure it out later. He smiled as he whizzed past Daniel’s exit. Oops. Sorry, sweetheart. Wasn’t paying attention. Looks like you’re coming home with me.

Daniel didn’t need to go home. He had everything he needed at Aaron’s apartment. He had a toothbrush and a couple of shirts. What he didn’t have, they could just buy. Or maybe they could designate a drawer for him. Hell, they could designate an entire dresser. That’d be cool. If Daniel had a dresser, maybe Aaron’s bedroom would start to smell like orange creamsicle. Eventually, maybe his living room would start to smell like it. His whole apartment? God, his whole apartment. That could be a real possibility. Very real. So real.

“MOVE IN WITH ME!”

Daniel jolted awake as Aaron’s eyes widened. What the hell was that? Someone answer the question— What the hell was that ? That had come spewing out of his mouth just now. Forcefully.

Daniel’s voice was thick with sleep as he asked, “What?”

“Nothing. Shhhhh, go back to sleep, sweetheart. You’re dreaming.”

“No, I’m not. You just yelled at me to move in with you.”

“I did not yell.” He held up a palm. “It was a statement.”

“An aggressive statement—”

“OKAY, BUT WHAT IF YOU DID?” He’d meant to say it calmer that time, but he seemed to have one volume for whatever he was saying. Which, what was he even saying?

Daniel’s expression was layered with confusion, alarm (likely from all the aggressive statement-making,) and then something else. Maybe excitement?

“I just….” Aaron trailed off as he pushed a hand through his hair, struggling to string together a decent argument. He was not very good at this. “I like you around, kid. I want you around me as much as possible because you make me smile and you make me happy and having you at my place means I can take care of you, and it means you’ll be around. You’ll be there when I wake up, and you’ll be there when I fall asleep, and I know it’s soon, but I can’t think of anything better. I can’t think of anything better than you being around all the time. Move in with me.”

Daniel’s lips parted, but he said nothing.

“And honestly, I don’t even mind that you can’t clean. Like, you physically cannot do it—as evidenced by the state of your apartment—but I swear, I don’t care. If you moved in, we could just hire someone to help us clean, because you do have a skill of creating messes. Especially for being so tiny. It’s almost like how I would imagine an angry toddler leaves a room. You’re so cute, but you’re an angry toddler tornado— ”

“Okay, if I let you keep talking, you’re going to ruin what would otherwise be a touching moment.” Daniel unhooked his seat belt and crawled across the console to smudge kisses all over Aaron’s face while the car dinged in protest.

“You’re kissing me.” An odd warmth radiated through Aaron’s fingertips as he cradled Daniel’s head. He almost sounded out of breath as he asked, “Why are you kissing me? Is that a yes?”

Daniel smiled against his ear. “Yes.”

“Really?” He rounded his eyes, trying to gaze at Daniel but follow the road. “You don’t think it’s too soon?”

“I don’t really care if it’s too soon.” Daniel gripped his face and twisted it, sealing their lips in a kiss. “Yes, mister. Yes, yes, yes.”

Aaron chuckled as he tried to kiss him back with one eye on the road. “Hey, someone’s got to drive, sweetheart.”

Daniel slid his cold hands beneath Aaron’s shirt, and Aaron about flinched out of his seat. He should’ve been used to it. They were always freezing. Daniel’s mouth, however, was never freezing. It was hot and wet on Aaron’s stomach as he kissed his way around, cooing against his skin, unbuttoning his jeans.

“Okay, I love where this is going.” He glanced up in the rearview mirror to check the headlights behind them and make sure they didn’t look police-ish. “But can it wait until we get home?”

“No. It can’t. Because I am so excited I’m already going to die anyway. I might as well go out doing something I love.” Daniel licked his navel, then popped up to whisper all pouty, “Not to mention, look at my man. He’s so tightly wound. He’s so tight that he’s literally yelling at me.”

Aaron chuckled. “It was a statement.”

“An aggressive statement. Guess who can help you unwind?” Daniel’s breath sizzled between his teeth as he slid his hand inside Aaron’s jeans. “Your new roommate.”

Aaron cut his eyes to the side. For someone so cautious, he sure was troublesome.

“You wanna play house, mister?” Daniel asked, stroking him. “That what you want?”

He nodded, surrendering to the trouble. He wanted every experience with this troublesome creature, so he lounged back in the seat while the risk broadened, pressurizing the car in an achy sexual tension .

“You want me to dance for you?” Daniel purred like his very own pet kitten. “Rub your shoulders? My big, strong man. Wait for you to get home from the gym? On my knees?”

Aaron lifted his hips and lowered his jeans to expose himself more, swelling thicker against Daniel’s grip.

“Any part of my body? Yours.” Daniel stopped to lick his hand. “Any time you want it? Done. How does that sound?”

Aaron’s voice was hoarse. “It sounds good—”

Daniel yanked his hair by the roots.

“Fuck!” A car horn blared as Aaron jerked the car back into his lane.

“Just good?”

“Damn, kid.” Aaron swallowed, his throat dry as he glanced around at the other cars. Good thing it was dark. “Perfect. It sounds perfect.”

“Oh, it will be.” Daniel stroked a little faster, a little firmer. A lot masterful. “Because I know what you like, and I know how you like it. Don’t I?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, you know what I like.”

“And?”

“How I like it.”

“That’s right. I can even wear the heels if you want? Or how about one of your ties?” Daniel clicked his teeth next to Aaron’s face. “Wrapped around my wrists, strapping me to your bed. Like it did last Sunday.”

Aaron clenched his jaw and smirked, last Sunday’s memories flooding back to him.

“Guess what else?” Daniel licked the side of his face and hummed, “I can make you come harder than anyone else.”

Aaron didn’t need to think about it to know it was true. Harder. Hotter. With his entire nervous system at full throttle.

“Wanna see me prove it?” Daniel didn’t even give him time to answer before he jerked Aaron’s hair again.

Aaron winced, but he didn’t let the car swerve. He growled through a chuckle. “You’re asking for it, kid. ”

“Well, I’m trying to ask for it, but someone I know’s all Let’s wait till we get home . Someone has to drive. Blah, blah.”

He turned to find Daniel’s eyes ablaze with challenge. He matched his crooked smile. Trouble.

“I asked you a question.” Daniel stroked, rewet his hand, then stroked some more. “I’d appreciate an answer.”

“Do I want you to prove you can make me come hard?” Aaron, stiff as steel, tossed an arm around the headrest and leaned back again. “Yeah. I do.”

“Oops, someone’s forgotten their manners. You didn’t say please.”

He licked his lips, trying to squash his grin. “Pretty fucking please. Dancake.”

“Here’s how this is going to go,” Daniel said, punctuating his words with little pokes in Aaron’s chest. “You have two jobs, you delicious filet mignon of a person. One is to drive. Can you guess what the second is?”

“Not kill us?”

“Close. Come down my throat.”

Aaron’s laugh was strangled. “How’s that close?”

“And I mean alllll the way down my throat. Think you can manage?”

Aaron sucked on his lower lip and nodded.

“You’re such a good boy. Oh, and one more thing.”

“There’s more?”

“Permission granted to have your way with my mouth. There is no such thing as too hard, and there is definitely no such thing as too deep.”

“Goddammit.” Aaron dragged a hand down his face, his lower half starting to ache. “I’m not gonna last long.”

“Perfect.” Daniel crinkled his nose. “Because I’m fucking starving. Feed me.”

Headlights.

Daniel’s full lips encircled him.

White lines.

Daniel lured him deep into his mouth.

Exit 241. Silver guard rail.

Daniel swallowed him, and the road waned from his priorities.

The thing about boys who sucked cock like they needed it to live, those were the ones to watch out for. Because those were the ones who could look like the portrait of pious when they said things like Have your way with my mouth. They were the ones whose sweetness—with their pretty eyes and tempting skin—made it hard not to crave them like sugar.

Well, Daniel’s skin was more than sweet; it was orange ice cream, his eyes the molten caramel on top. But the way he sucked cock? It was like he’d die if he couldn’t. Could anyone blame Aaron for yelling at him to move in? Yelling while offering to buy his studio? Yelling while imagining drawers and dressers filled with his things? It was like his heart had been pried open. His wallet sure as shit had been pried open. Now he knew how his clients felt.

The headlights drifted into the background. So did the white lines, exit 241, and his respect for the speed limit. He twisted his fingers into soft brown curls, revved the gas, and hastened Daniel’s pace for him. Daniel moaned, all muffled and sexy, and worked his mouth faster like he loved it, like nothing turned him on more. This sexy little demon could put him out of business. Could steal his clients, one by one, and drive him out of business. It wouldn’t take him five minutes.

Daniel suddenly popped him from his mouth like a lollipop.

“Hey,” Aaron whined. “No—”

“What did I say?” Daniel was in his ear again.

“About what? Which part?” Aaron started to stroke himself, but Daniel smacked his hand. “Guh. Rude.”

“I said to have your way with my mouth.”

“I am. I love your mouth. Now get back down.” He grunted as he fake-forced Daniel’s head back toward his lap, making him chuckle.

“I’m not getting back down anywhere. I’m over you holding back.”

“Sweetheart.” He rounded his eyes a bit. “I’m not holding back . I’m driving.”

“You hold back all the time. You talk this big Aaron game— oh, I’m Aaron. I’m so rough and fun —then you treat me like I might break.”

He chuckled. “I’ve never once said I’m Aaron. I’m so rough and fun .”

“Over. It. And that’s really too bad.” Daniel started to stroke him again, his voice creeping to a whisper like he had a big secret to tell. “Because I would love to finish what I’ve started, but I can’t so long as you’re holding back.”

Aaron ground his hips against his grip .

“Because there is an animal inside you, Mr. Silva.” Daniel tongued the shell of his ear. “And I wish someone would let you off your leash. Can you imagine how good it would feel?”

Their gazes locked. He knew better than to ask, because the answer was sure to turn him on beyond the point of no return. “How good would what feel?”

“To just lose all control. Unshackle your fire.” He said it with this smile. “Fucking own me.”

This demure, guiltless, dripping-with-good smile, and his teeth grazed his lower lip, and the AC burned Aaron’s wet skin, and the air smelled like them both, and he could suddenly taste the aching sexual tension pressurizing the car. If Daniel wanted fire, he was about to get fire.

Aaron clenched his teeth and swerved the car to the shoulder. Daniel squealed like a kid on a roller coaster, clutching the assist handle while the rumble strips vibrated enough to cause something to beep. Aaron jolted the car into Park.

“You little fucking insane person,” Aaron said, his words labored as he crushed Daniel’s lips to his until it was painful. He shoved Daniel’s head back into his lap. “You’re in trouble now.”

Daniel sucked. Harder. Aaron gripped his hair. Harder. They both danced around blurred boundaries of give and take, and in and out, and commanded and commanding, only who was in control? It sure as hell wasn’t Aaron. No. Or else he wouldn’t be dizzy and unleashed on the side of the road, primally fucking his beautiful boyfriend’s throat.

Have your way with my mouth. Aaron clawed the steering wheel, his white-knuckled grip skidding skin on leather. There is no such thing as too deep.

Daniel’s mouth dripped, pooling wet heat while the sounds he made filled the car in whimpery huffs and hums. Aaron swirled his tongue around his finger and thrust it down the back of Daniel’s jeans because just one finger could make those mild noises turn fanatical. And they did.

Taillights whizzed past their car, and Aaron wanted to care that one of them might be a cop. He wanted to care that the way he rammed into Daniel’s mouth, with the kid’s full lips pressed flush with his torso each time, might be too far, but he didn’t care. So he slid another finger inside him and watched him writhe, drunk on a power trip .

What was it about flooding this perfect creature’s mouth that felt so similar to power? Like his body was a plaything. A pretty toy. A possession. Aaron scratched the leather seat with his nails. A possession. He squirmed. It was quite possible he was deranged, and possession was an overstatement, but then again— Imagine how good it would feel. To fucking own me.

A shock throbbed throughout his system and pried a roar from his lips.

To fucking own me.

His cry of release zinged off the car walls.

Own me.

He came allllllll the way down Daniel’s throat. Exactly like he was told.

Daniel’s spine bowed gracefully even as he gulped the pulses of liquid with the same eagerness he used to coax it from him. Like he was dying of thirst. Like Aaron had the only thing he wanted to drink.

He held Daniel captive another minute, maybe two. Long enough for the residual shudders of pleasure to finish twitching his muscles.

Daniel’s mouth stayed open and flawless, his tongue rolling in a sweet little tempo, his jaw doing the same.

Aaron fell to the mercy of raspy laughter and finally collapsed into his seat, where he tried to assemble the council of his mind, but they were out to lunch. Or all passed out whiskey-drunk. Daniel grazed his way back up, and when he saw him, it was like Aaron could bathe in the way he looked. His lips, red and swollen, even more striking than usual, matched his cheeks, flushed hot with color. He looked full of want and eager to please. He looked consumed with emotion. He looked in love.

Aaron kissed him, but what Aaron really needed to do was get him home and worship him head to toe. “You.” He grazed his thumb over Daniel’s lower teeth just to feel something sharp against his buzzing fingertips. “So you don’t need to breathe?”

Daniel cleared his throat, his smile proud. “There are more important things.”

Aaron chuckled and tried to settle his stupid breath. “That wasn’t too rough for you?”

“Hell no.” Daniel bit his thumb. “I can still talk, can’t I?”

“What about me? Am I talking? What am I saying?”

“You were saying how amazing I am. ”

“You are.” Aaron touched their foreheads together. “You are amazing, and I think you might’ve been made for me. Made with me in mind.”

“Aw.” Daniel thumbed his cheek. “How narcissistic.”

Aaron laughed, all high in his head.

“I love you,” Daniel said, his little half-smile adorable.

Aaron stiffened, his throat seizing shut.

Three simple words hung in the air like forbidden fruit, but he couldn’t pluck them from their branch. Even though they were right there. Even though three plucks were all it would take—one I , one L , one Y —he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t .

“Hey,” Daniel asked, his forehead rutted with concern. “You okay?”

Aaron cast his gaze downward and shook his head while he drew a circle, a little too roughly, in the palm of Daniel’s hand.

If love was money, then he’d fix this. He’d make enough to keep people around and always keep them safe. He’d make enough to say, Anything you want, it’s yours . He’d make so much that no one would leave, and Daniel couldn’t leave, and please don’t leave . Not yet.

Stay. Just a little while longer.

“Aaron,” Daniel said. “What’s wrong?”

“Listen, I’m nuts about you, but I can’t say that. I don’t know, I’m messed up or something, but um. Let me work on it. I’ll work on it, I’ll do that, and it’ll come with time.” He couldn’t make his words sound promising. They sounded as shaky as his sigh. “Goddammit. Give me time, okay? Please? Just a little time. I’m so sorry—”

“Shh, of course.” Daniel tenderly stroked his hair. “Of course, take your time. There’s no rush. What was that…?” He snapped his fingers like he was trying to recall a word. “Oh! My mom said, ‘People experience life in different strides.’”

He nodded, biting his lower lip hard enough to puncture it. “I like it when you say it. I like it a lot, but I want you to know that you don’t have to.”

“ I don’t have to say it?” Daniel tilted his head. He looked like he couldn’t get more confused, which was fair. It was confusing. He smoothed a thumb over Aaron’s lip until he stopped biting. “Well, I don’t mind. What if I say it enough for both of us?”

“Really?”

“Oh, easy.” Then Daniel said, “I love you. ”

Aaron drank in the sound of it. “Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“Again. With my name.”

“I love you, Aaron Silva.”

He pulled Daniel into him, buried his face in his curls, and breathed. “What a night. Let’s go home.”

“My place or yours?”

“Ours.” It was a single word, but he meant it. He might not have been able to voice it, but he could show it. He could give him a home. He could help him secure the studio. He could provide for him a future.

“Ours.” Daniel laid his head on his shoulder and hummed. “I like it. That sounds, I don’t know. It sounds… real.”