“S-s-something feels off, s-sir,” Scott said, softly. “I know I’m probably j-j-just being silly, b-but…”But will you humour me anyway, sir. Please. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t really important to me.
It was what Scott didn’t say, that he wasn’t yet sure enough of Joe’s love to say, that convinced Joe to abandon all his carefully laid out plans.
He joined Scott by the living room door. Rather than give him permission, Joe opened the door for him. Reaching inside, he switched on the light. Even when the room was fully illuminated, Joe didn’t look inside. His attention rested squarely on Scott.
Scott’s expression didn’t change as his eyes travelled slowly from one point within the room to another. Finally, his gaze stilled and he peered down at the floor just in front of his feet as if it were the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.
“Scott?” Joe prompted.
“You b-bought a sofa, s-sir.”
“Yes.”
Scott nibbled lightly at his bottom lip. “It’s n-n-nice.”
Joe studied him more ferociously than ever. The sofa was a battered old leather thing, twenty years out of style but still ascomfy as hell. He didn’t give a damn if Scott thought it was nice or not. “Notice anything else that’s different in there?”
Scott’s teeth bit down harder this time. When he released his lip, he took a deep breath. It obviously wasn’t the sofa that was freaking him out. “There are quite a f-few b-b-boxes in there, s-sir.”
“Boxes?” Joe asked.
“All the b-boxes from my p-p-place,” Scott finally specified.
“Yes.” Joe didn’t dare blink in case he failed to spot some flicker of emotion from Scott—he couldn’t afford to miss any clues.
“You b-b-brought them here, s-sir.”
“Yes,” Joe said again.
There was still no way to tell if Scott was about to completely freak out or not. Joe watched. He waited. There was nothing else he could do. Dominance didn’t mean a damn thing in that situation. Everything rested with Scott.
“W-when?” Scott eventually asked.
“I lifted your key from your coat pocket when you got changed. Frank and Tony went to your place to get them while we were at the club. They’re good guys. I’d trust them with my life.”
Scott nodded, very slightly.
“Your things wouldn’t have been safer with a police escort.”
Another nod.
Joe resisted the urge to yell out at the top of his lungs through pure frustration; or, to demand Scott give him any sort of verdict before he was ready.
Scott reached up and hooked his fingers through his collar. He whispered something under his breath. The only word Joe caught was “real.”
“What did you say?” he demanded, unable to make the question sound anything like a polite enquiry.
Scott blinked. He turned to look up at Joe. “This is r-real, isn’t it, s-sir?” he said. “It’s really h-h-happening. You really want me to m-move in with you. You r-really g-gave me a c-c-collar.”
“Yes.”
Scott didn’t say anything, but he no longer needed to. His smile told Joe everything he needed to know. Joe let out the breath he’d held for damn near the whole conversation.
“You’re really mine,” Joe confirmed, his confidence once more sky high.
Scott turned to face Joe properly. He took a step toward him. There was no nervousness in him, no sign that he wasn’t completely sure of Joe’s acceptance of him.
Another half step forward, and Scott was in Joe’s arms. It would have been perfect if there hadn’t been a stupid amount of fabric between them. Leather was all well and good, but it shouldn’t have been allowed to separate skin from skin.
