Arlo’s mouth tugged into a pout so sweet Dimitri had to fight the urge to bite him. Cute aggression was a real and dangerous thing. “You’re just trying to make me feel better.”
Dimitri scrunched up his face. “Really? That doesn’t sound like me at all.”
Arlo slapped his shoulder softly, the barest hint of affection in the gesture.
Dimitri grinned, then pulled his phone from his pocket. He quickly found his mother’s contact and hit the green call button. Immediately, a series of beeps told him she was outside of the service area. He dropped the phone back onto the console, earning another strained look from Arlo.
“I’ll try her again in a few minutes,” Dimitri said easily, like this was an inconvenience, not a threat.
“We really are gonna die out here,” Arlo sobbed, a fresh wave of tears breaking free. Arlo’s panic didn’t move instraight lines. It came in waves, each one convincing him the last hadn’t mattered.
When Dimitri grinned at him, Arlo glowered back. “Don’t make fun of me.”
Dimitri kissed Arlo’s knuckles, then twisted to look at the backseat. If he left the car, he’d let the warm air out and they needed to make it last as long as possible. He sighed, maneuvering his large frame between the seats with effort, kneeling on the back row to reach over and grab the black Velcro box that held their emergency supplies.
Java gave a snort and flopped onto her other side. Dimitri shook his head, then fell back into the seat with the box in his hands, one long leg splayed along the bench seat, the other planted on the floorboard. Inside was a weatherproof blanket, a sleeping bag, a few hand warmers, water, and granola bars. Not enough for them to last days, but more than enough for them to last the hour or two necessary to wait for his mother to rescue them. Seeing the familiar contents steadied him, proof that he’d planned for this, even if the circumstances hadn’t been exactly what he’d imagined.
Dimitri threw the weatherproof blanket over Java’s crate, then leaned back against the door. “Come back here with me, baby.”
Arlo didn’t hesitate, scrambling over the seat with surprising agility. Dimitri patted the space between his legs. Arlo settled in, his back to Dimitri’s chest. He threw the sleeping bag over both of them, wrapping his arms around Arlo. For a few minutes, neither said anything, listening to the storm outside. There were moments of eerie silence, like they weresuspended in a void, but then the wind would howl violently, rocking the SUV like a cradle. The sound vibrated through the metal frame and straight into Dimitri’s bones, rhythmic and oddly soothing, like a hammock on a ship.
Dimitri kissed the top of Arlo’s head. “This is kind of nice.”
Arlo scoffed softly. “What?”
“When was the last time we were just… alone?” Dimitri asked. “Without a million things pulling at us?”
Arlo sighed, his head settling more fully into the crook of Dimitri’s raised arm. “I guess you’re right. We’re just so busy nowadays.”
They were both pursuing their master’s degrees in business. Dimitri was minoring in accounting. They planned on opening their own coffee shop slash cat café once they finished. They’d finally managed to scrape together enough money…with his mother and Lola’s help. He’d tried to refuse the money, but they insisted. And Arlo really wanted that café. And Arlo usually got what he wanted. Not because he demanded it, but because Dimitri wanted to build the world Arlo felt safest living in.
Arlo tipped his head up, their lips meeting in a kiss that lingered. It wasn’t rushed or desperate, just warm and unhurried, like they had all the time in the world. When he pulled away, he kept staring, the fear in his eyes replaced with a look Dimitri had seen a million times before. Heat. Desire.
Dimitri caught his mouth in another kiss, this one deeper. Arlo opened for him almost immediately, a soft sound leaving his throat that Dimitri swallowed without thinking. The kiss stayed slow, exploratory—no rush, nohunger sharp enough to tip into urgency. Just closeness. Dimitri slid his tongue inside, familiar and grounding, muscle memory.
His hand slid from Arlo’s waist up under his shirt, fingertips grazing soft skin, tracing the curve of his ribs. Arlo shivered, not from cold but from recognition, leaning back into the touch like his body remembered Dimitri before his brain caught up. This time when Dimitri broke the kiss, his lips found Arlo’s jaw, then his throat, lingering there as he breathed him in.
“You smell like coffee and soap,” Dimitri murmured against his skin.
Arlo huffed a quiet laugh. “You say that like it’s romantic.”
“It is,” Dimitri said simply, pressing another kiss just below his ear. “I love the way you smell.”
“You sound like a psychopath when you say those things,” he said fondly.
“I am a psychopath,” Dimitri reminded him.
Arlo turned in his arms just enough to face him, knees braced awkwardly against the seat. He reached up, cupping Dimitri’s jaw, thumb brushing over the faint scar near his chin. “You always know how to make things feel less… loud,” he said softly.
Dimitri leaned into the touch without thinking. “It’s my job to keep you safe.”
Arlo’s eyes went glassy. “I wish you knew how much you saying stuff like that turns me on,” he admitted quietly.
He did know. He could feel Arlo hardening against his thigh.
“Yeah?” Dimitri asked, flexing the leg between Arlo’s,swallowing the low whimper that escaped. God, he lived for those tiny little noises Arlo made. The ones that sounded like only Dimitri could make him feel like that. He let his hands fall to his ass, pulling him down on his thigh as he flexed, earning another desperate noise from Arlo.
He pulled away, studying Arlo’s parted lips and blown pupils. “Fuck, you look so hot like this.” He squeezed his ass once more, enjoying the feel of the muscle beneath his palms. “You seem awfully turned on right now,” he teased gently.
