“You don’t sound surprised,” Sila said.
“I believed you when you made your offer,” Bay explained. “That’s why I accepted.”
“Is that why?” Sila stated knowingly, but he didn’t push the issue when Bay dropped his gaze and continued eating. “How’s the soup?”
“It’s good. Thank you.”
“Thank my brother. He’s the one who taught me the importance of taking care of things that have meaning to us. Or,” he changed his mind, “actually, don’t. Don’t speak to him if I’m not around.”
“I don’t have any interest in him anyway,” Bay replied.
Sila snorted. “You couldn’t even tell us apart up until the other day, the proof is in your closet.”
“Pictures don’t count,” he argued. “They’re easier to fake.”
“How so?”
“The feel of a person when they’re standing right in front of you, when they’re looking back at you…it’s unique. You can’t get that from a photograph.” Bay finished the last spoonful and stared into the empty bowl, his disappointment palpable.
Wordlessly, Sila stood and picked it up, going back to ladle in more from the pot on the stove. When he set it back in front of Bay, he continued their conversation as though they’d never paused it.
As though he hadn’t just done something sweet and caring.
If Bay wasn’t careful, he’d fall into this, into this false image of the perfect, attentive lover. Things were already bad enough as they were with how obsessed with the younger guy he was.
“How do I feel?” Sila asked.
“Dangerous,” he said without hesitation.
“What does danger feel like?”
Bay swallowed another mouthful and said honestly, “Enticing.”
He’d expected Sila to grin again, and was a little discouraged when he continued to stare stoically at him instead.
“You were close with your grandmother?” Sila leaned back in the chair and slid the tube of sun cream toward himself, fiddling with it as they spoke. “She adopted you, correct?”
“Yes,” he nodded. “She was already past her prime so she insisted I call her grandma instead of mom, but that’s what she was to me more than anything. She was my parent. I only had the one, but one was more than enough.”
“I only have one parent as well,” Sila confided. “My father.”
“You don’t like him,” it wasn’t hard to surmise by the way his mouth twisted in displeasure.
“He’s a coward and a disgrace to the Varun name. Because he isn’t intelligent enough to figure out how to achieve the things he wants, he opted to have children to pass the burden onto us. My brother has taught me more than Crate Varun ever has. He’s the only family I acknowledge. The only family I need.”
“Sounds a lot like how it was with my grandmother,” Bay said. He could picture her bright smile whenever he walked in the door after school and hear the way she greeted him, like she meant it and was happy to see him even though it’d only been a few hours. “No one’s ever taken care of me like she did.”
“Come here.”
Bay blinked, torn from his memories. He’d finished the second bowl without realizing and when he glanced over at Sila, he found him waiting. A swell of anticipation mixed with fear swept through him as he slowly eased to his feet and rounded the table, stopping a good two feet away.
Sila made a sound of annoyance and grabbed his wrist, pulling him forward until Bay was falling over into his lap. Then he resituated him, moving Bay around so he was straddling Sila’s thighs, chest to chest.
“Stay standing,” he ordered, and then he tugged Bay’s pants down for the second time that day.
Bay tried to move away but Sila slapped him on the ass, the whack lighter than it’d been the other night but still enough to sting. He paused, not wanting to tempt the devil into taking things any further, especially when he already didn’t know what was to come.
He’d liked the pain coupled with sex, and wouldn’t be opposed if that was the direction they were heading, but Bay wasn’t a fan of being hurt for no reason, with no endgame in sight. If Sila beat him or cut him, he hoped he’d earn a reward for taking it and being good. If he didn’t…Bay scowled.
