For the umpteenth time that night, Angelo steadied him. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s getinside.”
Dylan didn’t need telling twice. He grabbed Angelo’s hand and towed him to the front door. He fumbled with his key like he’d drunk ten pints, but eventually, he got it unlocked and led them to hisflat.
Inside, the pressing need for a shower outweighed his desire to tumble Angelo straight into bed. He pressed two bottles of beer into Angelo’s hands and pushed him towards the bedroom. “Fiveminutes.”
“We need food,” Angelo said. “Or nofucking.”
It was clear that he meant it, so Dylan jerked his head to the kitchen. “Raid the fridge then. Just make sure you’re naked when I getback.”
He took the quickest shower known to man, but rinsing sweat and dried jizz took a few minutes. When he got out, the flat was quiet and still. He wrapped a towel around his waist and padded into the bedroom, nearly tripping over Angelo’s boots. On the bedside table was a plate of sandwiches that looked far more appetising than the contents of Dylan’s fridge deserved and a bottle of beer. Angelo had ditched his T-shirt and unbuttoned his jeans, the trail of dark fuzz on his belly disappearing invitingly beneath his underwear, and Dylan gazed at him, his cock springing to lifeagain.
God, he’s gorgeous.It was a crying shame that Angelo was already fastasleep.
Chapter Ten
Angelo wokeup in his underwear and covered by Dylan’s clean-scented duvet. The bed was so much more comfortable than the couch he slept on at home, that he allowed himself a moment to pretend he didn’t have to get up and go to work. Then he realised he wasalone.
He sat up and instantly regretted it as his head spun, letting him know that he was in for a day of dodgy balance. “Dylan?”
Damn it, his voice was pretty fucked too. Luckily, it didn’t have to travel far. Dylan popped up at the edge of the bed, a pair of black-framed glasses perched adorably on his perfect nose. “Hey.”
Angelo blinked. “Hey. What are you doing downthere?”
“Catching up on someemails.”
“Seriously? What time is it?” Angelo swung his legs out of bed, praying that they’d hold him up on the first try. “I have to get to thedeli.”
“Easy,” Dylan said. “It’s only fivethirty.”
“Oh.” Angelo relaxed and set his feet gently on the hardwood floor. “What are you doing up then? You don’t have to work today?—?” Angelo broke off with a coughingfit.
Dylan left his laptop on the rug and crawled onto the bed behind Angelo, pressing his warm chest to Angelo’s back until Angelo was done hacking. “I couldn’t sleep and I didn’t want to disturbyou.”
“Fat chance of that.” Angelo leaned back into Dylan’s embrace. “I don’t even remember taking my clothesoff.”
Dylan chuckled. “You started. I helped you out after you passed out onme.”
Through the ever-present fog, Angelo tried to recall the latter part of the previous night, but all he remembered was wanting to punch Rhys in the face for no reason other than the fact that he had a body that worked. And Dylan having a mid-fuck panic attack in the BDSMchambers.
Angelo turned in Dylan’s arms and regarded him. Despite the insanely hot play session that had followed, he couldn’t shake the sensation of Dylan shaking beneath him for all the wrong reasons, and the dark circles now beneath Dylan’s eyes didn’t help. “Are youokay?”
“Ofcourse.”
“Sure about that? ’Cause you kind of look like Ifeel.”
“And how do you feel,Angelo?”
“Tired and like I’ve been hit by abus.”
Dylan’s brow furrowed. “That’s notgood.”
“Actually, it’s not that bad. Some mornings I’m still under thebus.”
“I wish I could help you feelbetter.”
“You do.” Angelo pushed Dylan’s messy hair away from his face. “If I was at home right now, I’d be so fucking miserable that even opening my eyes wouldhurt.”
“Your state of mind has that much impact on your physicalwellbeing?”
