Chapter Twenty-One #2
Diwa sat in the warm glow of that kiss. His omega, fed and safely driven. Kissed, and now heading off to work with food that Diwa had made for him in his belly. The alpha in his chest was practically roaring with accomplishment.
“I’ll pick you up after,” Diwa said, knowing he was pushing his luck. “Tell me where your last job for the day is.”
“No.” Colin shut the door hard enough to rattle the wing mirror, slung the bag over his shoulder, and walked away without looking back at him.
? ? ?
Colin had stubbornly not allowed Diwa to pick him up from his last job, which meant Diwa had spent the afternoon in Colin’s flat with nothing to do but eat cheese on toast and prod at the Tagalog cultural-context model he’d been fine-tuning on his laptop.
The omega came through the door at half six smelling of bleach, dropped his bag in the hall, and ate the cheese on toast standing up at the kitchen counter while Diwa tried to extract the details of his day.
They ended up on the sofa, as they did most nights now.
Colin set his feet in Diwa’s lap, which Diwa had come to understand was less a romantic gesture than the omega parking his frozen extremities against the nearest available heat source.
The television was showing something about antiques.
Diwa flicked past it, found a property renovation programme, flicked past that too.
“Oh, I’ve got someone coming round tomorrow, by the way,” Diwa said, his thumb still pressing the nav buttons on the remote control.
“I got us a new bedframe and mattress. They’ll swap out the old one and set the new one up, so you won’t have to do anything, and they’ll take away all the old stuff and the packaging. ”
Colin froze and his eyes narrowed.
“I was thinking, do you want a new telly as well? Because this one’s got a line through the picture, Colin, and I’m not sure that skin colour’s meant to be that shade of blue.”
“Who told you you could redecorate my flat, Diwa?”
Diwa’s thumb stopped on the remote. Colin’s feet had pulled back from his lap.
The omega was sitting upright now on the far end of the couch, as far from Diwa as the couch allowed.
Colin’s gaze fixed on him, and Diwa knew that look.
He was about thirty seconds away from a reality check he wasn’t going to enjoy.
“It’s just a mattress, Colin. The one you’ve got is basically a medieval torture device with a fitted sheet on it.
” He tried a grin, taking full advantage of the dimples that he knew for a fact the omega went crazy for.
“My spine’s never going to forgive me for last night, and I’m twenty-eight, Colin.
I shouldn’t be making noises when I stand up. ”
“So stay at yours.”
“I don’t want to stay at mine. I want to stay here, with you.
I just also want to be able to sleep horizontally without waking up shaped like a question mark.
” Diwa set the remote down and turned to face him properly.
“It’s a bed. That’s all it is. You’ll sleep better, your back won’t hurt in the mornings, and I can actually stay over without needing chiropractic work afterwards. I’m just being practical, Colin.”
Colin’s jaw tightened. “You’re not changing my bed, Diwa. It’s done me fine for fifteen years.”
Diwa winced. Fifteen years. Colin had kept the same mattress since the twins were ten, probably bought second-hand even then.
Colin had slept on it every night since, alone, working it into the shape of his own body because replacing it had never made the priority list above school shoes and the electric.
“Colin —”
“No.”
“If you’d just —”
“Get out.”
Colin had drawn tight beside him, his shoulders pulled in, his gaze fixed on a point away from Diwa. When Diwa reached for his hand, Colin flinched away.
“Colin, I was just trying to make things more comfortable for you! That’s all. I want to take care of you.”
“I don’t need taking care of, Diwa. I’ve told you this already.
” Colin stood up from the sofa, his movements careful and contained.
“I’ve managed fine on my own before you, and I don’t need you coming in here deciding what’s not good enough.
I’m not with you because of what I can get out of you, Diwa. ”
“I know that, Colin. Jesus. I know that.” Diwa stood up too, his hands open at his sides.
“But would it kill you to let me do something for you? Just once? That’s what people do when they’re together.
They look after each other. They buy each other things without keeping a score.
It’s just…it’s just what you do for someone you’re with! ”
“That might work with your usual lot, Diwa.” Colin’s hands had gone still at his sides. “But what have I got to offer you that’s worth any of this?”
“Colin, we’ve been through this. I thought we’d —” Diwa’s hand went into his hair.
“How many times do I have to tell you? How many different ways do I have to say it before you actually believe me? You’re enough.
You’ve always been enough. I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do to make you understand this! ”
“Get out, Diwa.”
Colin walked to his bedroom, went inside, and shut the door. Through the thin wall, Diwa could hear Colin moving, those fucking mattress springs creaking under his weight.
He picked up his jacket from the arm of the sofa, found his keys, and let himself out.
The door locked behind him with a click that echoed in the concrete stairwell, and Diwa stood on the landing for a moment, looking at the chipped paint and the laminated out-of-order sign on the lift, before taking the stairs down to the street.