“Is it?”
“Yep. Zip ties have cut you up.”
Gabriel rolled his eyes but agreed at the withering look he was given. He retaliated by locking his ankles behind Aled’s bum and making him stay within the V of Gabriel’s thighs and stir the spaghetti by reaching over with the spoon.
“You’re clingy,” Aled commented.
“And you need clingy,” Gabriel replied.
“Clingy and bitchy.”
“And I’m being both. Case closed.”
Aled chuckled, quickly kissing the side of his head. “Yeah, yeah. Love you too.”
Gabriel’s stomach curled warmly inside him and he relaxed into Aled’s shoulder, rocking them lightly. A sleepy contentment was warring with the hunger.
“You okay?” Aled murmured.
“Tired.”
“No surprises there. Get a meal down you, then crash out. I’ll let you sleep in tomorrow.”
“Let me? Join me, more like.”
“I have a couple of errands to—”
Gabriel pinched.
“Ow! Fine, fine. I’ll do them Sunday.”
“Better.”
Aled smirked then softened. He set the spoon aside, turned the burner down until the pan was simmering gently, then rested both hands on Gabriel’s knees.
“Need to talk about any of it?”
“No. Do you?”
He laughed gently, ducking his head. “Not anymore.”
“It wasn’t like your usual stuff,” Gabriel admitted, hooking his hands around the back of Aled’s neck and toying with his hair. It needed cutting. “You’re usually a bit more brutal. And faster.”
“Fancied a change,” Aled said.
“Really?”
“Yep.”
He smelled a rat.
“Aled—”
“I saw some of the text messages Michael’s been sending,” Aled said carefully. “And after the row you were having on the landing, it didn’t feel right to smack you around and threaten you. So I tried a different approach. And it worked.”
“You’re telling me it worked—”
Aled chuckled, smoothing his hands up Gabriel’s sides. It stung vaguely and Gabriel figured that Aled wasn’t wrong about his back.
“You got very clingy.”
“I did? When?”
“After,” Aled said.
“Oh. I spaced.”
“Yeah, I noticed.”
“Was—exciting, but scary.”
“How do you mean?”
Gabriel took a breath. He’d been hoping not to raise this part, but honesty was the best policy. He’d just have to word it carefully, so as not to set off any of Aled’s issues. “If—if we’d not been in the house, I’d not have let you do it.”
“Oh?”
“I couldn’t always tell it was you.”
Aled blinked.
“I know it’s in our agreement that you don’t make me sleep with other men, and I think because we were here, I didn’t question that it had to be you. But if we’d been somewhere else, like a hotel room or a BDSM club or something, I might have questioned that and stopped it.”
Aled licked his lips. Gabriel stretched up to kiss them, but there wasn’t much response.
“I wouldn’t have,” Aled said quietly. “That’s—you know that’s why I’ve never taken you to a club.”
“I know.” Gabriel stroked his hands, still planted on Gabriel’s waist. “But you know what it’s like. I know, but I might have doubted it anyway. Just for a second. If we weren’t here.”
Aled nodded, but the shadow passed when Gabriel kissed him again. He responded, stroking a finger over the shell of Gabriel’s ear and down his jaw before stepping back and unlocking himself from Gabriel’s legs.
“Hey! Come back.”
“Food.”
Gabriel grumbled, but then his stomach joined in, and he lost the battle for another countertop kiss. Spaghetti bolognese was produced, and a tray of snacks and sweets to go with it. Aled might have been the master, but Gabriel had trained him well—food, and lots of it, had to be produced after sex games. Any food. All food. And chocolate cake, peanuts, biscuits and spaghetti bolognese were a perfectly acceptable combination.
“If you stop cycling, you’ll balloon in a week,” Aled complained as they settled back down in the cuddle chair together, Gabriel taking up a spot in Aled’s lap and digging in to Aled’s bowl instead of his own.
“Good thing I like cycling.”
“Weirdo.”
“Excuse me, a whole day of fucking! How are you not starving?”
“A whole day of lying on various bits of furniture, you mean.”
“With a vibrator in me!”
“It was mostly off.”
“Bloody wasn’t…”
Aled laughed and apologised by way of letting Gabriel have the whole plate of custard creams. Gabriel grudgingly accepted it but made his displeasure known by continuing to harvest Aled’s dinner as well as his own. Despite carrying several extra pounds, Aled really didn’t understand how to hoover his food. The man savoured. Chewed. Like sex, he took his time when sometimes it was a good hard gangbang that was required.
But at least he understood food comas. Once Gabriel’s stomach had been stuffed into silence, he put the bowls on the floor and collapsed sideways into Aled’s arms, turning over in them like a contented cat asking for a belly rub. And Aled’s answer—which was the correct one—was to slide lower in the chair and heft Gabriel up to his chest.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hi.” Gabriel grinned. “Come here often?”
Aled snorted and patted Gabriel’s crotch. “Usually here.”
Gabriel pouted.
“And occasionally there, yes.”
“Occasionally?!”
Aled squeezed him and craned down to kiss a patch of skin just below Gabriel’s ribs. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
“Ridiculous? Excuse me—”
“Ridiculously beautiful.”
Gabriel groaned and batted at the side of Aled’s head. The contented cat had had its fur stroked the wrong way.
“That was pure cheese.”
“It was pure truth.”
“Shut up.”
Aled laughed, squeezing again. “Nope.”
Gabriel squirmed to get away. Aled resisted and the tangle slid sideways until Gabriel wasn’t sure which way was up and Aled’s warm blue eyes were the centre of the universe.
“Love you,” Aled murmured and kissed the bridge of Gabriel’s nose.
“Prove it.”
“Prove it?”
“Mhmm.”
“All right,” Aled said. “How?”
Gabriel grinned. “You could always leave more cuts.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm. That was even better than my birthday.”
Aled raised his eyebrows. “Wow. What brings that comparison on? You were swearing blind I’d shag you to death on your birthday.”
“Yeah, but there’s only so far I can space in an unfamiliar place.”
Aled smiled, stroking Gabriel’s exposed stomach. The heavy weight over the soft rise and fall of his belly, and the even softer downy hair covering it, felt hot and relaxing. Gabriel wanted Aled to put his head there and sleep forever.
“Make it more familiar.”
Gabriel’s smile widened. “Oh aye? And how am I supposed to do tha—”
“Move in with me.”
Gabriel’s brain stopped.
Boom.
Done.
Followed by the longest silence that the world had ever known.
Chapter Nine
“I fucked up.”
Conversation from work to swimming had been all about the new head of accounting, and it was only when Suze emerged from the ladies’ changing rooms already chugging a protein shake that Aled decided to bring it up.
Or, rather, blurt it out. Like he had on Saturday night.
“Why, some
one catch you gawping at their junk in the changing room?”
“I asked Gabriel to move in with me.”
Suze blinked and lowered her bottle.
“Why is that fuc—”
“Because I did it after persuading him to get shot of another regular and right after fucking him stupid all day.”
Suze groaned. “Oh, God.”
Yeah, that was the about the sum of it. After all that preparation, all the intention, all the planning it out—he’d just blurted it out like an idiot. Like a bloody teenager on a first date. Just word-vomited it out there like a complete moron and had gotten exactly the response he’d predicted.
“You asked a guy who was probably wary of his own mum to move in with you, right after sex?”
“Yeah.”
“And a guy who’s skittish about you because he’s worried about possessive dominants going all jealous on his arse, right after talking him into dumping the other guy?”
“Yeah.”
“What did he do?”
Panicked. Well, not quite panic-panicked, but—
“Went a bit white, stammered he’d think about it, then asked to go home.”
Suze’s face screwed up. “Oh, Christ.”
“Yeah.”
Suze sighed. Her hand locked around his wrist and she towed him to the cafe. The cafe itself was closed, but the sofas were available and Aled dropped into one of them with a heavy sigh. He felt hollowed out and exhausted. The initial gut-wrenching horror of the mistake had been washed away by exhaustion. He felt sixty-four, not thirty-four.
“Did you speak to him Sunday?”
“Texted him a bit. Apologised for just blurting it out and he said it was fine, but otherwise not really.”
“Go round and talk to him properly.”
“And say what? I can’t take it back. I don’t want to take it back.”
To his surprise, Suze agreed with him.
“What?”
“I think now you’ve said it, you’re better off repeating it.”
Repeating it? Why the hell would he repeat such a stupid mistake? He’d be lucky if he was allowed to keep the keys to the flat now.
“Why?”
“Because otherwise, it really does look like you only said it because he shags good.”
Aled frowned.
“If you repeat it in the cold light of day, with all your clothes on and no sex-happy hormones clouding your judgement, you’ll be able to let him know you mean it.”
“What’s the point of me meaning it, if he locks it all up with getting rid of Michael and—”
“Well, that’s what you have to do now.”
“Make him believe it’s not about making him mine and mine alone?”
“Yeah.”
“How?” Aled implored desperately. “Christ, Suze, I’ve been with him almost two years and he’s still afraid of me.”
It bubbled up and out. Skittish was one thing, but—but what did it say? What did it say about Aled that Gabriel was still so wary of him after all this time? What did Aled expect? He beat him up and smacked him around and—
“Stop it!”
He scowled at his best friend and she scowled right back.
“He’s not afraid of you,” Suze said sharply. “He’s afraid of a possible scenario. He’s afraid of a theory. And—God, Aled, I hate to say it, but it’s probably because he’s trans.”
“What?”
“He’s got much more reason than most to default to this assumption that people are going to hurt him.”
Aled opened his mouth—and slowly closed it again.
She was right—and even more right than she thought she was. Aled didn’t know much about where Gabriel had come from, but being queer had a lot to do with the missing pieces. There weren’t exactly loving, supportive parents waiting in the wings. It wasn’t entirely the conquered alcoholism that made Kevin insist on staying in touch. It wasn’t for courtesy’s sake that Gabriel would text Aled screenshots of the accounts chatting him up on Grindr.
“I can’t imagine being in his shoes,” Suze said quietly. “I mean, it’s always on the news, isn’t it? About trans people being murdered when they get found out and stuff like that. No wonder he’s wary of giving someone—anyone—a hold over him.”
“Even me.”
“It’s not about you.”
“Isn’t it?”
“No.” Her voice was firm. “No way does he not trust you. But you’re asking for a totally different kind of trust. Even if—look, if you went nuts during a scene and hurt him or ignored his safewords, it will be over eventually and he can get away. But abuse isn’t like that. It’s slow and coercive and suddenly one morning you realise that’s where you are and you don’t know how you got there and you don’t know how to get out. You’re asking him to trust you now and in the future. You’re asking him to rely on you being what he thinks you are in the long term, when there’s no possible way he can guarantee you’re always going to be what he thinks you are.”
“But that’s the same for everyone. You and Tom have to do that. Melissa had to do that.”
“Yeah, it is.”
“So what do I—”
“You’re going to have to persuade him to make the leap.”
“How?”
“Well, start with meaning it. He might try to handwave it as you being all fucked-out and happy and you didn’t mean it. Mean it. Then—I don’t know, maybe you need to hit the issue head-on instead of dancing around it. Maybe you need to change your games for a bit so he feels safer, or set out rules for when he brings other men home, make it clear you know he will do and you’re okay with that.”
Aled squirmed. Right there was the other problem. The one that had never come up with Gabriel, because they’d never tried living together before.
“I’m—not.”
“Eh?”
“I don’t like other men in my house.”
“Oh, Christ, yeah, you went nuts after Melissa had that guy in your bed…”
“Well, it was my bed!”
Suze sniggered, then schooled her expression and shook her head. “Then figure out a plan. Maybe if you’re not home, it’d be better? Like when you drink, you stay at mine? Or you could arrange a familiar hotel, agree to pick him up afterwards or whatever? But maybe if you do something to show you know there’ll be other men in the future and you’re okay with that, maybe he’ll not be so wary.”
Aled chewed on his lip, pondering. “Somewhere neutral,” he decided.
“What?”
“I need to repeat it somewhere—neutral. Where he can’t think I’m pressuring him. If I just go up to his flat and loom in his space, he’ll close off even more.”
“Oh, yeah, good idea.”
“But if I take him out on a date, that could be even wor—”
His phone interrupted him, suddenly ringing shrilly in his pocket, and he groaned.
“God, that’s probably work. That fucking new intern fucked up the Henderson account and you know what his lawyer’s li—oh, shit, it’s not.”
It was worse than the weasel lawyer. Gabriel’s picture was beaming up at him, and Aled swiped into the call with worry already flooding his chest. They always texted. Gabriel very rarely rang him. “Everything all right, sweetheart?” was Aled’s greeting.
“Um, hello.”
Aled laughed. “Sorry. Hello. You just don’t usually call.”
“No, well—are you busy?”
“Just leaving the gym. What’s up?”
“Could you come and pick me up from work? I get off in half an hour.”
Aled clutched at the reprieve. He wanted a lift. It was—normal. Just them stuff. He hadn’t completely trashed things.
“Course I can. Anything in mind?”
“Dunno. Takeaway and a movie? Nothing special.”
“Nothing special it is,” Aled said and blew upwards into his hair when Gabriel hung up. “Okay, apparently it’s dinner and a movie at the flat.
”
“Well, try talking about it anyway?” Suze prompted. “I think the longer you leave it, the less he’ll think it’s about you just loving him to bits and more about you wanting to control him. Especially if you don’t mention it again until another shag, or another…other man.” She then pulled a face at her phrasing.
“Yeah. Well. We’ll see.”
“Hey, if it doesn’t work, you just need to keep at it and loving him and eventually he’ll figure out on his own that it’s just bad timing and your lack of brain-to-mouth filter.”
“Excuse me, I filter far better than you do.”
“Sorry?”
* * * *
“Sorry.”
Aled blinked. “What?”
Gabriel, still leaning in his open window, pulled a face. “For bolting Saturday night. I’m sorry.”
“Oh,” Aled said awkwardly. “Well, that’s all right. I shouldn’t have just blurted it out like that.”
“And for making you come up here to pick me up.”
“That’s fine. Hop in. I get a nice evening in with y—”
“It’s just…Michael’s been sending some pretty shitty things.”
Gabriel’s gaze dropped, and Aled’s gut tightened.
“Like what?”
“Just—stuff.”
“Like what?”
“Well, the one he sent before I called you was that he’s not going to let the best shag he’s ever had fuck off with some dickless ginger twat and who am I kidding by pretending I could ever give up being a slag.”
“What!”
Gabriel shrugged. “And he was hanging around the building at lunchtime and tried to talk to me, so…”
He trailed off, chewing on the edge of his thumbnail.
“Right,” Aled said tightly. “Christ, what a dickhead.”
“I just didn’t want to really be walking home on my own if—”
“Good,” Aled said, reaching out to squeeze Gabriel’s elbow. “Come on, sweetheart, jump in and I’ll drive you wherever you want to go.”
“Beach in Barbados?”
“Erm, in this country.”
That finally smoothed the anxious look away, and Gabriel climbed into the passenger seat and leaned over to kiss Aled’s jaw.
“Thanks for coming up.”
“If you’d mentioned why, I’d have been here sooner.”
The Other Man (Starting Over Book 2) Page 8
