Kage shot to his feet and wrapped his arms around Finley, careful not to squeeze his sling.
“I can’t lose you.” Kage buried his face in Finley’s neck and let out a gut-wrenching sob. “I love you.” He murmured and pulled away to meet Finley’s gaze. “You gripped me by the balls when you knelt for me, but I knew I loved you when you were willing to fight for me, when you called me out on my bullshit. I’ve fallen for you hard, no matter how much I tried to resist. Now, my heart is in your hands. Please don’t crush it.”
Finley cupped Kage’s face in his big palm. “I’ll cherish it for the treasure it is. I promise.” He swiped a thumb under Kage’s eye, looking at him like he was the most precious person in the world. “I fell for you so long ago, I can’t believe you got to say it first. I love you, Kage.” He leaned in for a brief kiss. “I’m still mad at you, though.”
“Good. Because I’m mad at you too. But now I’m taking you to my place to recover.” Kage expected Finley to protest, but all he did was nod and offer a smile that grew into a smirk.
“And you’ll feed me and snuggle me.”
It hit Kage that Finley turned it into a joke, but he knew Finley had never had anyone in his life who’d taken care of him. He’d either fended for himself or helped others. Refusing to break down again, Kage lifted an eyebrow.
“Maybe. But if you push your luck, I’ll put you over my lap.”
“For spanking?” Finley’s gaze changed from teary to interested.
“No. I’ll do it so I could play with your cunt and edge you all evening when watching some telly. After that, you’ll be very relaxed and healing fast.”
Finley opened his mouth and blinked. “Yes, Please.”
The next day when Finley left the hospital, Kage kept his promise.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kage
Four months later.
Finley’s move into Kage’s flat happened organically, with his clothes and belongings slowly accumulating there as he recovered. By the time he was ready to go to work, neither of them could imagine sleeping separately ever again. The bedroom was theirs; the bed smelled like them, and Kage wouldn’t have it any other way.
Tonight, Finley would return to the club for a bar shift, but until they had to leave the house, Kage would keep him in bed as long as possible. Starting with a cup of morning tea.
He was humming some song from a superhero movie they’d watched the night before. Kage had never been convinced that any of them could be decent, but Finley wanted to continuewatching the new ones that had come out in the past two years. He’d told Kage that going to the cinema with Max to see every superhero movie had been their tradition, but he hadn’t had the drive to watch them alone. To his surprise, after suspending his disbelief, Kage had enjoyed the ones they’d seen so far. So much so that Finley had sent him links to slash erotica online that had given them costume ideas for the upcoming Halloween party at the Golden Handcuffs. Kage planned his Winter Soldier arm to be custom made of leather, and Finley’s latex version of Cap was bound to send many jaws to the floor at the club.
A noise behind Kage startled him. “Fucking hell.” He grappled to catch the mug trying to escape his fingers, but Finley snagged it and settled it next to the kettle.
“Sorry I scared you.” Finley chuckled, his stubble scratching Kage’s cheek as he kissed it.
“I guess I’m still not used to you loitering in my kitchen.” Kage pushed Finley away playfully and poured hot water over the tea bags.
“You better be. I can’t throw out my tenants now.” Finley nuzzled Kage’s neck, his light-hearted banter helping Kage curb his racing heart.
“Fine,” Kage grumbled with fake annoyance. Since the night Finley had got shot, Kage flinched at rapid noises, his brain replaying the evening he’d almost lost the love of his life. Again. That event also marked a pivotal moment in their relationship, after which they gradually began to discuss their issues with the same honesty they’d been discussing their kinks and limits.
“We can drop off the games at Latif’s on our way back from your physio today.” Finley poured a splash of milk into their teas and took them to the living room. “I hope the girls will love them as much as Max did.” Finley was parting with some of Max’s stuff he’d kept out of sentiment but wouldn’t use and was unableto display. He’d said it was easier when he knew someone could take good care of his games and collectibles.
On an especially emotional evening a few weeks back, Finley had showed Kage his albums packed with photographs of his kids. Finley had shared memories of the happy days over a bottle of whiskey with Kage, telling him about Max’s passion for surfing and their quiet life on the island peppered with short trips abroad. The last photograph in there was of Max, and when Kage had asked about it, Finley admitted he hadn’t taken pics since his son’s death. Snaps with his phone of stuff for work or receipts, but no photographs. He hadn’t seen the point. Finley’s photography probably wouldn’t win any awards but the raw beauty that the man captured in them was a joy to look at. Kage’s heart hurt that Finley abandoned the beautiful way of capturing and displaying important moments of his life.
Maybe Kage could help bring that passion back?
Finley hadn’t sold his car, even after moving to London, and he’d insisted on driving Kage to his physical therapy every week. Taking the tube took forever and his leg hurt too much after the session to ride his bike.
That day the physio was especially brutal. His therapist, Drea, was the most stubborn woman—apart from Jagoda—that Kage had ever met. Her ‘you can do it’ attitude had pissed him off at the beginning, but it had pushed him to the point where he was truly making progress. His leg hurt a lot less and he could cut down on his pills by nearly half after consulting a doctor.
Tired and feeling like he’d survived a battle in a ring, Kage sat in the passenger seat of Finley’s car as they headed home. He reached into the glove box for some CDs, only to find it empty. Finley either used a flash drive that held dozens of albums or connected his phone to play from a music streaming service.
Cold sweat broke on Kage’s back as he closed the glove box.
The setting reminded him of his recurring nightmare, of the day he’d survived. Only now he’d realised that he hadn’t dreamt of the accident since Finley moved into his bed. Maybe holding Finley all night, and feeling his heart beat under his palm, helped him cast the nightmare away.
