asphaltcowgrrl (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
asphaltcowgrrl) wrote2017-10-11 12:37 pm
asphaltcowgrrl) wrote2017-10-11 12:37 pm
Entry tags:
The Perils of Self-Deception (Romani Detective Original Fiction)
Title: The Perils of Self-Deception
Fandom: Romani Detective Original Fiction
Pairing: Andrej Zeklos/James Rosewood/Zayne Reyes
Rating: NC-17-ish
Word Count: 2,627
Summary: James declares a date night and Zayne takes it the wrong way.
Author’s Note: Written for the Say What challenge at 1_million_words. Think I kind of took the roundabout way of getting to the point though. Also: the wind has been blowing like a cheap whore the last few days and therefore I have a headache so excuse any screw-ups on my part. I cannot look at this one more time.
He lifted the bottle to his lips and drained the last bit of beer into his mouth. Setting the empty on the bar, Zayne sighed. He still had at least two hours before he could safely go home due to the narco declaring ‘date night’ for himself and Zeklos. What the hell did they expect him to do until midnight? Eh, he supposed he could call Hilary and see if he could crash for the night, but he really didn’t want to answer the inevitable relationship questions that would follow. Seriously, why else would he be looking for somewhere to stay on a Saturday night if he hadn’t pissed his boyfriend off?
To make matters worse, the redhead still hadn’t gotten extra keys made for the apartment he’s not really using. At least if he had that, Zayne could go crash at the narco’s place for the night. But since Rosewood had more important things on his mind, Zayne was stuck with nowhere to go. Well, he could go home but… he really didn’t want to walk into the middle of whatever the hell they were doing.
“Can I get you another,” the bartender asked. “Or maybe keep you company later? I get off at eleven.”
Zayne forced a smile to his face. She was a pretty brunette and reminded him a lot of Hilary in that they were tall, lean and willing to take on a handful like him. There was a time when he’d have jumped at the chance for a little of her attention but tonight, he was simply drained. He was either whupped or too damn run down to care any longer. Truthfully, he chose to believe that he’d been tamed over the other possibility because he was much too young to feel so damn old.
“I’ll have another,” he said, lifting his bottle off the counter. “As for the rest…”
“You’re taken,” she said, shrugging. “I get it. And I kind of figured from the look on your face. Want to talk about it?”
Yeah, he kind of did want to talk about it, but where the hell did you start with something like this? He’d feel like a fool starting the conversation off with, My boyfriend’s home with his lover… “Nah, I’m good, but I appreciate the offer.”
“Alright,” she grinned, handing him another Dos Equis, “but if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
He watched her walk away, the slow and easy sway of her hips beckoning to his libido. Yeah, he needed to get out of here before he did something supremely stupid out of desperation. The idea that he might even think about crossing that line pissed him off. Fuck it, he was going to go home and lock himself in his room, the room he hated sleeping in now because it meant he was in the doghouse. Even though he wasn’t in trouble with either Zek or the narco tonight, he still felt like he was being unduly punished.
Not bothering to finish his beer, Zayne tossed some money on the counter for the bartender, making sure to add a nice tip for putting up with him. It was the least he could do considering his unsociable attitude. She was a lovely woman and would no doubt find someone much better than him to take home.
Zayne just wished he had a good reason for going home.
--
He was barely ten steps into the living room and he could already hear them. Damn, what was the ginger doing to Zek to make him – no, no, he did not need his thoughts to go there. Not if he wanted to get any sleep tonight. Fuck, but it sounded so hot, hearing Zeklos’ little high-pitched gasps of pleasure twining with the narco’s deeper grunts of satisfaction. Shit, he needed a hit of something if he was going to survive the night.
Letting himself into the kitchen, Zayne rooted around in the cabinet until he found a glass big enough to drown his sorrows in but not big enough to kill him either. Pouring a generous serving of tequila into the cup, he knocked it back, grimacing slightly at the warm burn flowing down his throat and into his stomach. He poured another glass of tequila and leaned back against the counter. Although he could still hear them, it didn’t bother him as much knowing. Zayne savored the second round of tequila, taking small sips rather than dumping it down his throat like he had the first time.
By the time he’d finished his drink, Zayne felt more prepared for the long walk down the hallway, past the bedroom he usually shared with Zeklos, to his own, lonely bed. Setting the empty glass on the counter, he capped the bottle of tequila and left it out where he could get to it later, if needed. It was time for bed, whether he wanted to sleep alone or not.
Forcing his raging emotions – and hormones, damn but they were loud when they thought they were alone – Zayne put one foot in front of the other and made his way down the hall. The sounds of the enthusiastic sex coming from Zek’s bedroom got louder the closer he came, which made sense, but even at their loudest, he shouldn’t be able to hear them this clearly. It occurred to Zayne that it was possible Rosewood found a way to amplify the room’s natural acoustics just to screw with him, but the thought didn’t stick long. Knowing the redhead, he’d been too anxious to get to it to bother with annoying Zayne. He saved the effort for the times when he knew Zayne would be around to torment.
Halfway down the hall, Zayne stopped and rubbed his eyes. Blinking, he focused blearily on the door to Zeklos’ bedroom. The door that stood three-quarters of the way open. There was no way Zek knew that it was like that. Despite his willingness to try whatever he and the redhead asked, Zeklos still liked his privacy. Even on the nights when it was just him and Zek here at the house, they still closed the door before curling up to sleep. Zeklos would have a cow if they’d had sex with the door even cracked.
“What the fuck is even going on,” he muttered, leaning into the open space made by the mostly open door.
Damn, why did he have to look? Zek was on his hands and knees, head hanging between his shoulders, mouth open. Rosewood was molded to Zeklos’ ass, fingers gripping Zek’s hips like his life depended on it. Maybe, in that very second, it did. Zeklos’ golden brown skin appeared even darker when contrasted with the narco’s porcelain complexion. The clash of their bodies aroused Zayne’s desires, causing his cock to harden painfully in his jeans. Rubbing a hand along the length of his zipper, he bit his lower lip, praying they didn’t notice him there, watching. His partner would be horrified. The redhead, however, might find it to be a turn on.
Leaning back against the wall, Zayne closed his eyes and listened to Rosewood fuck their boyfriend. He could still see them in his mind’s eye, grunting and thrusting and having the time of their lives. It was so wrong, but he couldn’t help but put himself into the picture, too, if only in his fantasy. Zayne groaned, thumbing at the button on his jeans, and then fumbling to get his cock out of its prison made of cotton and elastic. It’d be so easy to stay here, listening to them get it on while he gave himself a little relief. But the longer he stroked himself, the more he thought about James and Zeklos, the more he realized he was intruding on their private time, spying on them, being a voyeur. There was only one thing he could do and that was continue on to his room and finish what he’d started there.
Well, that wasn’t completely accurate, was it?
Squeezing his aching cock, Zayne cursed himself quietly. He should have just stayed out, drinking and getting his dumb ass into trouble. Because the thing he was contemplating right that second would get him into more trouble than anything he might have done in the bar. But he didn’t fucking care. He was alone – lonely, even – and he was horny as hell. And there they were, ten feet away, naked and screwing.
With a groan, he released his cock and shucked his jeans quicker than he thought possible. Pulling his shirt over his head, he dropped it onto the puddle of jeans and underwear he’d left on the floor. They might kick his ass out of the room and out of the house for this, but if he didn’t take the chance, he’d never forgive himself.
He squeezed through the opening, not wanting to risk causing the hinges to squeak and alert the two in the bed to his arrival. Rosewood bent his head forward, nibbling on Zeklos’ ear and Zayne swallowed hard. All those long limbs and sweet nakedness were more than he could handle. Climbing onto the bed, he sunk his teeth into one perfectly pale ass cheek.
“Damnit, cowboy,” Rosewood shouted. “That hurt, you asshole.”
“Aw, I’m sorry baby,” Zayne cooed, rubbing a hand over the area he’d bitten. A rosy red mark was blossoming on the narco’s pale skin where Zayne’s teeth had grazed him. “Better?”
“Almost,” James said, reaching back and grabbing a handful of Zayne’s thick, dark hair. A not so gentle tug brought Zayne up enough for the redhead to steal a kiss. “There, now it’s better. And what took you so damn long?”
“What?”
James leaned back into Zayne’s body, head resting against Zayne’s shoulder. “We heard you out there a good ten minutes ago. Thought you’d have made a beeline for the bedroom the second you got here.”
Zayne watched the narco’s hand stroke Zeklos’ back, teasing him with a gentle caress. Arching into Rosewood’s touch, Zeklos pressed back into the redhead’s body, unwilling to lose contact for even a moment. Outside of the bedroom, even outside of their home, Zek was quiet and reserved, easily embarrassed and quick to correct. But once you got him alone? Damn, but he was fun to play with, always so eager to please.
“You better take care of him before he loses it,” Zayne said, pointing at their boyfriend and wishing it was him instead.
“Can’t we take care of each other,” Rosewood grinned, changing positions and turning his attention back to Zeklos.
Growling, Zeklos nodded. “He left the door open on purpose, Zayne.”
“You weren’t just fucking with me,” Zayne asked, shocked that Zek had allowed that to happen.
“No,” the redhead laughed. “I might like to yank your chain sometimes, but even I wouldn’t be that rude.”
“Fuck,” Zayne snarled, throwing himself at Rosewood.
He buried his teeth in the ginger’s shoulder, his cock in James’ ass. Yeah, this wasn’t how things usually went, but he’d take it, and take it gladly. Anything to keep them both close and hear those delighted little sounds they made together. Who in their right mind would give this shit up?
--
Zayne rested his head on Zeklos’ chest, eyes closed, breathing deeply. He could feel the narco’s unshaven face against his shoulder and found it more comforting than annoying. “I’m sorry,” he muttered into the darkness.
“For what,” Zeklos asked, fingers skimming over Zayne’s wild curls.
“For intruding,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t have even come home.”
James snorted. “You are the most oblivious son of a bitch I’ve ever met,” he said. “And I deal with drug addicts on the regular, cowboy, so that’s not good for you.”
“What the hell do you mean,” Zayne asked, opening his eyes to glare at the redhead.
“We thought it was obvious that we wanted you here with us,” Rosewood said, kissing the back of Zayne’s neck. “And then you took off, grumbling and bitching about something.”
“So you let me leave?”
“We did not have much choice,” Zeklos sighed. He touched Zayne’s face gently. “You were angry and did not respond when Jay called after you.”
“He said it was date night,” Zayne protested. “Which means you and him.”
“Did I ever say you had to leave though,” James stated more than asked. “No, I did not. If you weren’t such an impetuous –”
“Jay, please,” Zeklos said, sounding exhausted. “That will not help.”
“But it’s true,” Rosewood whined.
“Maybe,” Zeklos said, “but you never specifically asked him to stay either. I can see why he was confused and thought he had to leave.”
Zayne squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on Zek’s fingers on his skin, the steady heart beating in his ear. Zek was right, the narco should have said something and spared him the two hours he spent in a bar, drinking his hurt away. But on the other hand, maybe the redhead had a point and Zayne should have asked. His father had always told him he was good at fooling himself into believing whatever narrative fit his mood, this was definitely proof of that. Making a mental note to fix that shit and fast, he relaxed into Zek’s body, letting the warmth of his lovers surround him.
Zeklos had once told him that there wasn’t anything more misleading than the obvious. He’d said that, as humans, they’d been trained to never take anything at face value and to tear everything they saw, read, and heard to shreds. At the time, Zayne hadn’t believed his partner but now? Well, he had proof of the truth now. The obvious fact was that they both loved him, needed him and, more than anything, wanted him to be a part of their lives. And he’d rolled right past all the signs and drove himself into misery. For once, giving in to his childish desires had paid off. From here on out, however, he was going to take the time to ask for specifics before assuming he wasn’t wanted. Seriously, what was the worst they could say? Get lost for a couple hours?
The ginger had stopped his fidgeting and was sleeping soundly. Zayne opened his eyes and found Zeklos watching him. “Why aren’t you asleep,” he asked.
“Because I cannot breathe with you both lying on me,” Zek replied. “But I do not mind. I would rather stay up and be tired than be alone.”
Smiling at Zeklos’ admission, Zayne squirmed until he was only half lying on Zek, displacing the redhead as he moved.
“Fucker,” James muttered, falling right back into sleep. Instinctively, he curled into Zek’s side, seeking out the comfort he’d lost.
“Nasty even in his sleep,” Zayne teased. “Is that better?”
“Much,” Zeklos said, one hand on each of his boys. “And are you better, Zayne?”
“Yeah,” he admitted, finding his favorite place on Zeklos’ chest to doze. “And I’m sorry for being such a jerk earlier.”
“You were not a jerk earlier,” Zeklos said, arm tightening around Zayne.
“Thanks,” he murmured, snuggling into Zek’s embrace. “I don’t know how I’d survive without you both.”
It cost him a lot to admit to that, but there it was, out in the open. He was sad that the narco hadn’t been awake for it, but Zayne was also relieved. He was tired, emotionally wrung out, and the last thing he wanted was to deal with Rosewood’s snark. There was plenty of time left to listen to that crap as the days went by. Tonight, he was content with his confession, tomorrow he could tell the ginger. Or not because Zayne was pretty sure the jackass already knew.
Fandom: Romani Detective Original Fiction
Pairing: Andrej Zeklos/James Rosewood/Zayne Reyes
Rating: NC-17-ish
Word Count: 2,627
Summary: James declares a date night and Zayne takes it the wrong way.
Author’s Note: Written for the Say What challenge at 1_million_words. Think I kind of took the roundabout way of getting to the point though. Also: the wind has been blowing like a cheap whore the last few days and therefore I have a headache so excuse any screw-ups on my part. I cannot look at this one more time.
He lifted the bottle to his lips and drained the last bit of beer into his mouth. Setting the empty on the bar, Zayne sighed. He still had at least two hours before he could safely go home due to the narco declaring ‘date night’ for himself and Zeklos. What the hell did they expect him to do until midnight? Eh, he supposed he could call Hilary and see if he could crash for the night, but he really didn’t want to answer the inevitable relationship questions that would follow. Seriously, why else would he be looking for somewhere to stay on a Saturday night if he hadn’t pissed his boyfriend off?
To make matters worse, the redhead still hadn’t gotten extra keys made for the apartment he’s not really using. At least if he had that, Zayne could go crash at the narco’s place for the night. But since Rosewood had more important things on his mind, Zayne was stuck with nowhere to go. Well, he could go home but… he really didn’t want to walk into the middle of whatever the hell they were doing.
“Can I get you another,” the bartender asked. “Or maybe keep you company later? I get off at eleven.”
Zayne forced a smile to his face. She was a pretty brunette and reminded him a lot of Hilary in that they were tall, lean and willing to take on a handful like him. There was a time when he’d have jumped at the chance for a little of her attention but tonight, he was simply drained. He was either whupped or too damn run down to care any longer. Truthfully, he chose to believe that he’d been tamed over the other possibility because he was much too young to feel so damn old.
“I’ll have another,” he said, lifting his bottle off the counter. “As for the rest…”
“You’re taken,” she said, shrugging. “I get it. And I kind of figured from the look on your face. Want to talk about it?”
Yeah, he kind of did want to talk about it, but where the hell did you start with something like this? He’d feel like a fool starting the conversation off with, My boyfriend’s home with his lover… “Nah, I’m good, but I appreciate the offer.”
“Alright,” she grinned, handing him another Dos Equis, “but if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
He watched her walk away, the slow and easy sway of her hips beckoning to his libido. Yeah, he needed to get out of here before he did something supremely stupid out of desperation. The idea that he might even think about crossing that line pissed him off. Fuck it, he was going to go home and lock himself in his room, the room he hated sleeping in now because it meant he was in the doghouse. Even though he wasn’t in trouble with either Zek or the narco tonight, he still felt like he was being unduly punished.
Not bothering to finish his beer, Zayne tossed some money on the counter for the bartender, making sure to add a nice tip for putting up with him. It was the least he could do considering his unsociable attitude. She was a lovely woman and would no doubt find someone much better than him to take home.
Zayne just wished he had a good reason for going home.
--
He was barely ten steps into the living room and he could already hear them. Damn, what was the ginger doing to Zek to make him – no, no, he did not need his thoughts to go there. Not if he wanted to get any sleep tonight. Fuck, but it sounded so hot, hearing Zeklos’ little high-pitched gasps of pleasure twining with the narco’s deeper grunts of satisfaction. Shit, he needed a hit of something if he was going to survive the night.
Letting himself into the kitchen, Zayne rooted around in the cabinet until he found a glass big enough to drown his sorrows in but not big enough to kill him either. Pouring a generous serving of tequila into the cup, he knocked it back, grimacing slightly at the warm burn flowing down his throat and into his stomach. He poured another glass of tequila and leaned back against the counter. Although he could still hear them, it didn’t bother him as much knowing. Zayne savored the second round of tequila, taking small sips rather than dumping it down his throat like he had the first time.
By the time he’d finished his drink, Zayne felt more prepared for the long walk down the hallway, past the bedroom he usually shared with Zeklos, to his own, lonely bed. Setting the empty glass on the counter, he capped the bottle of tequila and left it out where he could get to it later, if needed. It was time for bed, whether he wanted to sleep alone or not.
Forcing his raging emotions – and hormones, damn but they were loud when they thought they were alone – Zayne put one foot in front of the other and made his way down the hall. The sounds of the enthusiastic sex coming from Zek’s bedroom got louder the closer he came, which made sense, but even at their loudest, he shouldn’t be able to hear them this clearly. It occurred to Zayne that it was possible Rosewood found a way to amplify the room’s natural acoustics just to screw with him, but the thought didn’t stick long. Knowing the redhead, he’d been too anxious to get to it to bother with annoying Zayne. He saved the effort for the times when he knew Zayne would be around to torment.
Halfway down the hall, Zayne stopped and rubbed his eyes. Blinking, he focused blearily on the door to Zeklos’ bedroom. The door that stood three-quarters of the way open. There was no way Zek knew that it was like that. Despite his willingness to try whatever he and the redhead asked, Zeklos still liked his privacy. Even on the nights when it was just him and Zek here at the house, they still closed the door before curling up to sleep. Zeklos would have a cow if they’d had sex with the door even cracked.
“What the fuck is even going on,” he muttered, leaning into the open space made by the mostly open door.
Damn, why did he have to look? Zek was on his hands and knees, head hanging between his shoulders, mouth open. Rosewood was molded to Zeklos’ ass, fingers gripping Zek’s hips like his life depended on it. Maybe, in that very second, it did. Zeklos’ golden brown skin appeared even darker when contrasted with the narco’s porcelain complexion. The clash of their bodies aroused Zayne’s desires, causing his cock to harden painfully in his jeans. Rubbing a hand along the length of his zipper, he bit his lower lip, praying they didn’t notice him there, watching. His partner would be horrified. The redhead, however, might find it to be a turn on.
Leaning back against the wall, Zayne closed his eyes and listened to Rosewood fuck their boyfriend. He could still see them in his mind’s eye, grunting and thrusting and having the time of their lives. It was so wrong, but he couldn’t help but put himself into the picture, too, if only in his fantasy. Zayne groaned, thumbing at the button on his jeans, and then fumbling to get his cock out of its prison made of cotton and elastic. It’d be so easy to stay here, listening to them get it on while he gave himself a little relief. But the longer he stroked himself, the more he thought about James and Zeklos, the more he realized he was intruding on their private time, spying on them, being a voyeur. There was only one thing he could do and that was continue on to his room and finish what he’d started there.
Well, that wasn’t completely accurate, was it?
Squeezing his aching cock, Zayne cursed himself quietly. He should have just stayed out, drinking and getting his dumb ass into trouble. Because the thing he was contemplating right that second would get him into more trouble than anything he might have done in the bar. But he didn’t fucking care. He was alone – lonely, even – and he was horny as hell. And there they were, ten feet away, naked and screwing.
With a groan, he released his cock and shucked his jeans quicker than he thought possible. Pulling his shirt over his head, he dropped it onto the puddle of jeans and underwear he’d left on the floor. They might kick his ass out of the room and out of the house for this, but if he didn’t take the chance, he’d never forgive himself.
He squeezed through the opening, not wanting to risk causing the hinges to squeak and alert the two in the bed to his arrival. Rosewood bent his head forward, nibbling on Zeklos’ ear and Zayne swallowed hard. All those long limbs and sweet nakedness were more than he could handle. Climbing onto the bed, he sunk his teeth into one perfectly pale ass cheek.
“Damnit, cowboy,” Rosewood shouted. “That hurt, you asshole.”
“Aw, I’m sorry baby,” Zayne cooed, rubbing a hand over the area he’d bitten. A rosy red mark was blossoming on the narco’s pale skin where Zayne’s teeth had grazed him. “Better?”
“Almost,” James said, reaching back and grabbing a handful of Zayne’s thick, dark hair. A not so gentle tug brought Zayne up enough for the redhead to steal a kiss. “There, now it’s better. And what took you so damn long?”
“What?”
James leaned back into Zayne’s body, head resting against Zayne’s shoulder. “We heard you out there a good ten minutes ago. Thought you’d have made a beeline for the bedroom the second you got here.”
Zayne watched the narco’s hand stroke Zeklos’ back, teasing him with a gentle caress. Arching into Rosewood’s touch, Zeklos pressed back into the redhead’s body, unwilling to lose contact for even a moment. Outside of the bedroom, even outside of their home, Zek was quiet and reserved, easily embarrassed and quick to correct. But once you got him alone? Damn, but he was fun to play with, always so eager to please.
“You better take care of him before he loses it,” Zayne said, pointing at their boyfriend and wishing it was him instead.
“Can’t we take care of each other,” Rosewood grinned, changing positions and turning his attention back to Zeklos.
Growling, Zeklos nodded. “He left the door open on purpose, Zayne.”
“You weren’t just fucking with me,” Zayne asked, shocked that Zek had allowed that to happen.
“No,” the redhead laughed. “I might like to yank your chain sometimes, but even I wouldn’t be that rude.”
“Fuck,” Zayne snarled, throwing himself at Rosewood.
He buried his teeth in the ginger’s shoulder, his cock in James’ ass. Yeah, this wasn’t how things usually went, but he’d take it, and take it gladly. Anything to keep them both close and hear those delighted little sounds they made together. Who in their right mind would give this shit up?
--
Zayne rested his head on Zeklos’ chest, eyes closed, breathing deeply. He could feel the narco’s unshaven face against his shoulder and found it more comforting than annoying. “I’m sorry,” he muttered into the darkness.
“For what,” Zeklos asked, fingers skimming over Zayne’s wild curls.
“For intruding,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t have even come home.”
James snorted. “You are the most oblivious son of a bitch I’ve ever met,” he said. “And I deal with drug addicts on the regular, cowboy, so that’s not good for you.”
“What the hell do you mean,” Zayne asked, opening his eyes to glare at the redhead.
“We thought it was obvious that we wanted you here with us,” Rosewood said, kissing the back of Zayne’s neck. “And then you took off, grumbling and bitching about something.”
“So you let me leave?”
“We did not have much choice,” Zeklos sighed. He touched Zayne’s face gently. “You were angry and did not respond when Jay called after you.”
“He said it was date night,” Zayne protested. “Which means you and him.”
“Did I ever say you had to leave though,” James stated more than asked. “No, I did not. If you weren’t such an impetuous –”
“Jay, please,” Zeklos said, sounding exhausted. “That will not help.”
“But it’s true,” Rosewood whined.
“Maybe,” Zeklos said, “but you never specifically asked him to stay either. I can see why he was confused and thought he had to leave.”
Zayne squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on Zek’s fingers on his skin, the steady heart beating in his ear. Zek was right, the narco should have said something and spared him the two hours he spent in a bar, drinking his hurt away. But on the other hand, maybe the redhead had a point and Zayne should have asked. His father had always told him he was good at fooling himself into believing whatever narrative fit his mood, this was definitely proof of that. Making a mental note to fix that shit and fast, he relaxed into Zek’s body, letting the warmth of his lovers surround him.
Zeklos had once told him that there wasn’t anything more misleading than the obvious. He’d said that, as humans, they’d been trained to never take anything at face value and to tear everything they saw, read, and heard to shreds. At the time, Zayne hadn’t believed his partner but now? Well, he had proof of the truth now. The obvious fact was that they both loved him, needed him and, more than anything, wanted him to be a part of their lives. And he’d rolled right past all the signs and drove himself into misery. For once, giving in to his childish desires had paid off. From here on out, however, he was going to take the time to ask for specifics before assuming he wasn’t wanted. Seriously, what was the worst they could say? Get lost for a couple hours?
The ginger had stopped his fidgeting and was sleeping soundly. Zayne opened his eyes and found Zeklos watching him. “Why aren’t you asleep,” he asked.
“Because I cannot breathe with you both lying on me,” Zek replied. “But I do not mind. I would rather stay up and be tired than be alone.”
Smiling at Zeklos’ admission, Zayne squirmed until he was only half lying on Zek, displacing the redhead as he moved.
“Fucker,” James muttered, falling right back into sleep. Instinctively, he curled into Zek’s side, seeking out the comfort he’d lost.
“Nasty even in his sleep,” Zayne teased. “Is that better?”
“Much,” Zeklos said, one hand on each of his boys. “And are you better, Zayne?”
“Yeah,” he admitted, finding his favorite place on Zeklos’ chest to doze. “And I’m sorry for being such a jerk earlier.”
“You were not a jerk earlier,” Zeklos said, arm tightening around Zayne.
“Thanks,” he murmured, snuggling into Zek’s embrace. “I don’t know how I’d survive without you both.”
It cost him a lot to admit to that, but there it was, out in the open. He was sad that the narco hadn’t been awake for it, but Zayne was also relieved. He was tired, emotionally wrung out, and the last thing he wanted was to deal with Rosewood’s snark. There was plenty of time left to listen to that crap as the days went by. Tonight, he was content with his confession, tomorrow he could tell the ginger. Or not because Zayne was pretty sure the jackass already knew.
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I was chuckling in the break room which makes folks wonder what I'm up to...lol
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Hah! Now that's funny. :)