“…gonna ruin me more, right? make me your good boy till I can’t skate, can’t breathe, can’t think. want it. need it. please, Cap. always.”
Christ. He’s unconscious and still begging for me.
I lean down. “Sleep, pup. Or I’ll make sure tomorrow’s practice kills you.”
He burrows deeper into the sheets. “…yes, sir.”
Then finally—finally—he goes quiet.
The first thing I smell ishim.
That weight under my cheek isn’t a pillow. It’s solid. Warm. Hard enough my ribs are molded around it. My eyes snap open before my brain even finishes booting up.
And yeah. Holy fucking shit.
Not a dream. Not a poster. Not a replay on VHS.
Damian’s chest.
I’m sprawled across it—sweats that don’t belong to me hanging off my hips, my curls sticking every which way, my face pressed to the heat of his skin where his shirt’s tugged down. His heartbeat is right there, steady and heavy under my ear.
And he’s awake.
Already looking at me.
Those eyes burn down steady, unreadable. One ice. One void. My pulse slams into overdrive like it’s trying to escape through my throat.
“Oh,fuck,” I croak. I bolt upright so fast I nearly brain myself on the headboard. “Oh my god, no—”
His hand clamps my hip before I can escape, calm, final, dragging me back down.
“Don’t.”
That’s it. One word. And I freeze. Half-sitting, half-folded across him, my heart trying to claw its way out of my chest.
“I’m in your bed,” I rasp, stating the obvious because my brain is melting.
“Yes.”
“You—you brought me here?”
“Yes.”
“And I—” My throat closes around the words. “I didn’t…like…fuck, did I—did we—”
One brow lifts, scar cutting sharper over his mouth. His voice is steel, low. “You begged. You babbled. You passed out.”
My face goes nuclear. Every inch of me goes hot, throat strangling itself, stomach twisting in knots. “Oh my god. I’m gonna die. Just bury me now.”
He doesn’t let me go. Doesn’t even flinch. His hand stays firm at my hip, his chest steady under me, his gaze pinning me down.
“Relax, pup.” His thumb presses against my hipbone, slow, deliberate. “If we’d fucked, you wouldn’t be able to walk today.”
That doesnothelp.
At all.
A sound squeaks out of me. “You’re—you’re a fucking menace.”
