The boy sat curled in the far corner of the couch, legs drawn up, chin resting on his knees. The blanket had migrated over his head, just enough to shadow his expression. He peeked over it when Easton set the board down.
“IsBrokeback Mountainokay?”
Easton lowered the board to the side table. “Sure.”
Darian hit play without waiting for more.
Easton sat, tugged the blanket aside, and coaxed Darian onto his lap. The boy came willingly, pliant but still distant. His head found the crook of Easton’s shoulder, arms tucked between them. The movie played. Silence stretched.
Easton reached for a cracker, layered it with gouda and fig jam, and pressed it to Darian’s lips.
He bit without looking up. Chewed. Swallowed.
A soft breath left the boy’s chest. Not quite a sigh.
Easton fed him a slice of apple next. Then a curl of prosciutto. Between each bite, he took one for himself, letting the rhythm settle them both.
About halfway through the film, Danny softened.
Not all at once. But gradually.
His knees loosened. His shoulders lost that stiff tension. One hand snuck under Easton’s shirt and rested against his stomach, thumb rubbing slow little circles like he needed the anchor.
Easton didn’t ask what was wrong. Not yet.
Instead, he wrapped his arm tighter around Darian’s waist, fingers stroking absent patterns over the soft dip of his hipbone. The scent of shampoo lingered in his hair.
“You always feed me when you think I’m upset,” Darian mumbled eventually.
Easton smiled faintly.
A pause.
“I saw you holding his bunny.”
There it was. Quiet. Direct.
Easton’s fingers didn’t still, but he adjusted his grip slightly. “I wasn’t holding Kevin. I was comforting a boy who’s finding his footing. There’s a difference.”
“I know.” Darian’s voice was small.
“You’re not in trouble.”
“I didn’t say I was.”
Another pause.
Easton pressed a kiss to Danny’s temple. “But you thought you might be.”
Darian didn’t answer. His breath hitched, then steadied.
Easton waited.
Finally, Darian whispered, “I know it’s silly. But seeing him with you…” He shook his head, like the words were tangled.
Easton tipped his chin up gently, made the boy look at him. “Feelings aren’t silly.”
Darian’s mouth worked silently for a second. “It makes me feel small.”
