“Nah,” Cherry said, smirking. “Just didn’t think you’d pick talking over a club.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Tattoo.” Denis winked, tugging Cherry inside. The kitchen was warm, cluttered with books, a half-empty coffee pot, and the faint smell of something grilled: Denis’ lunch. Cherry’s place was lived-in, chaotic, a stark contrast to Denis’ house. He lived there, but didn’t really leave an impression.
Unless Cherry’s there. Then it feels like home.
He brushed the thought away. Tonight’s dinner would be telling, finding out if they had a connection deeper than the physical.
That physical link between us is so, so good.
They got ready quickly, Cherry rinsing road dust from his face while Denis swapped his tee for a dark button-up he knew played off the color of his eyes. He caught Cherry staring and stepped close, resting a hand on Cherry’s chest as he balanced to slide on his shoes. He allowed himself to be drawn to Cherry’s easy intensity, then shoved the feeling down.
Focus on the night.
An hour later, they were at a small Italian restaurant, tucked in a quiet corner of the city. The place was intimate, low lights and close tables. Denis had picked it, wanting a place to talk, not just lose themselves in the moment. Cherry, still in his leather jacket, looked a little rough against the white tablecloths, but Denis didn’t care. Cherry was across from him, listening closely as Denis spoke animatedly, describing a street mural he’d seen last week.
“It was wild,” Denis said, twirling spaghetti on his fork. “This huge wall, all these jagged colors, like the artist was fighting something. Reminded me of you today, actually. With all the mess around Kastle.”
“You think I should’ve killed him?” Cherry asked, voice low, edged with something sharp. “Kastle’s slick as a snake. He’d have slipped any cage we put him in. We don’t cage people.”
Denis leaned back, keeping his gaze steady on Cherry. “I’m not saying you should’ve hauled him to the cops, Cherry. But...I don’t know. Letting him go? After everything he pulled? It feels like you’re left cleaning up his mess. Will the ASMC care that the IMC is sheltering someone they’d like to end? Is there danger for you or the club?”
Cherry set his bottle down, the clink sharp against the table. “You weren’t there, Denis. He wasn’t bullshitting about anything. Ricky was able to verify everything, including the body they found today. Kastle isn’t a danger to the club. It feels black and white to me.”
Denis’ jaw tightened, but his voice stayed even. “That’s the difference between us, isn’t it? You cut things off, keep it practical. Me? I can’t stop thinking there’s gotta be consequences, or something like it. Kastle could have burned everyone, and letting him walk feels like lady justice has been shortchanged.”
Cherry’s eyes flashed, irritation flaring. “I’m here, Denis. I spent my day tearing into Kastle, digging up his lies, and I still showed up for this damn dinner. I could be out there, riding off steam, but I’m trying it your way. Don’t make it sound like I’m not in this. I’m here.”
Denis leaned forwards, voice low but intense. “I’m not saying you’re not in it. I’m saying you don’t hope for more. You deal with what’s in front of you, and that’s it. I want us to be bigger than that. Bigger than any ASMC fallout. I want us to build something, not just survive it.”
***
Cherry
The words stung, stirring something in Cherry he didn’t want to name. Denis’ idealism was maddening, but it was one of the things that drew Cherry in, the fire that made Denis burn brighter than anyone. He wanted to argue, to tell Denis to stop chasing dreams, but his throat tightened. Instead, he reached across the table, grabbing Denis’ hand, his grip firm, steady.
“I’m here,” Cherry said, quieter now. “I don’t know about justice or ‘consequences,’ but I’m with you. That’s something.”
Denis’ expression softened, his thumb brushing over Cherry’s knuckles. “Yeah. It’s a lot.”
They didn’t resolve it, not fully. The tension hung between them, taut but not snapping. They finished dinner in a quieter rhythm, trading lighter stories, letting the weight settle. When they stepped outside, the night was colder, streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement.
They walked in silence, shoulders brushing, until Denis stopped under a flickering streetlight. He turned to Cherry, his face half-lit, half-hidden. “You’re still with me, right?”
Cherry didn’t answer with words. He stepped close, cradling Denis’ face, and kissed him. It was slower than their earlier kiss, more deliberate, and felt like a quiet promise. Denis leaned into it, hands tightening on Cherry’s waist, and for a moment, the world was just them, him and Denis wrapped in the unsteady glow.
When they parted, Denis gave a small, real smile. “Okay. That’s enough for now.”
Cherry nodded, his hand lingering on Denis’ cheek. “Yeah. For now.”
They walked on, unresolved but tethered, the night stretching out like a road they’d figure out together.
