“Fucked if I know, but I ain’t man enough to deal with all ofyou.”
Dylan laughed too, leaning on Sam and absorbing his familiar solidness. He’d fretted when Eddie had called him a few days ago to say she and Sam were paying London a flying visit, but his anxiety had proved baseless. Sam was happy and healthy, and the space he’d once owned in Dylan’s heart now belonged so entirely to Angelo that it was hard to recall when life had been anydifferent.
It helped that Angelo and Eddie got on like a house on fire. Both so beautiful and vibrant, Dylan could watch them move together all night. Had done exactly that, in fact, while he and Sam had got quietly drunk in thecorner.
“When do you start your newjob?”
“Hmm?” Dylan snapped his attention back to Sam. “Oh. Um, next week. I’ve got a few cases to close up in Stratfordfirst.”
Sam tipped the last of his beer down his throat. “Never thought I’d see you working in the Romford office. You always said you’d rather shootyourself.”
“I’m not going to be just working there, though. I’m running it?—the financial department, at least. And they’ve given me a lot of scope to change things. It’s worth it now that I can make adifference.”
“You don’t have to change things to make a difference. Sometimes you’ve just got to carryon.”
Dylan thought of the years that Sam had put into keeping his grandfather’s café open, the eighteen-hour days he’d worked without a second thought to the effect it was having on the rest of his life. In that, he and Angelo were exactly the same. “I hear you, but there’s a real opportunity here to make things right. And it’s closer to home so I can be there for Angelo if he needsme.”
Sam said nothing to that, all too aware of what it was like to depend on those he loved most to take care of him. He’d been well the whole time he and Eddie had been in Poland, but who knew what was round the corner? Not Dylan, and living with Angelo’s condition had taught him to take each day as it came. Worrying about tomorrow didn’t make anythingeasier.
Besides, today was agreatday, and as awesome as it had been to spend it with Sam and Eddie, Dylan was itching for the next phase tobegin.
Hot, sweat-sheened arms slid around him from behind. Angelo pressed a wet kiss to Dylan’s cheek. “What are you smirkingabout?”
“I’m not smirking,” Dylan protested as he turned around, though Sam certainly was until Eddie distracted him with a heated kiss of her own. “I’m justhappy.”
“Happy, eh? I’ll take that. Have I done enough moshing for youyet?”
“You loveit.”
“I loveyou.” Angelo swiped Dylan’s beer and necked it. “And you’ve been pining for this place, admitit.”
“Maybe,” Dylan hedged. “I didn’t think you’d be quite so into it,though.”
Angelo set the empty bottle down. “Why not? I let you fuck me with Motörhead growling in the background, don’tI?”
Behind Dylan, Sam burst out laughing. Dylan flipped him the bird over his shoulder and made an executive decision. He moved impossibly closer to Angelo, wedging his knee between his legs. “Careful. It’s your turn to call the shots when we ditch this place, but I might change my mind and bend you over thebar.”
Angelo smirked, seeing Dylan’s bluff for exactly what it was, because they both knew that even if Angelo was more than a once-in-a-blue-moon bottom, Dylan was waaay too thirsty to switch up their sex club adventures. “Does this mean you’re ready togo?”
Of course it did. They said goodbye to Sam and Eddie and left The Pitt, taking advantage of the heady summer air to save money and walk across town. They held hands, like always. Nine months to the day since they’d first met, and it had yet to get old. Would it everfade?
Dylan doubtedit.
* * *
Angelo fellonto Dylan’s chest, his muscles screaming, but for once the lactic acid in his legs was there for all the right reasons. He kissed Dylan’s sweat-damp skin, trailing his lips up until he found Dylan’s neck, and then he sank his teeth in, thrusting into him one last time. “Jesus!”
At home, his shout would’ve rung out and disturbed the neighbours. In Lovato’s, though, only the crowd who’d chosen to watch the show reacted, and Angelo barely noticed them?—too transfixed by Dylan falling apart beneath him. His arched back and flailing hands. His wild, guttural cries. One day, Angelo would get used to how beautiful hewas.
But nottoday.
They peeled themselves off the mattress and slipped away from the masses into the private showers. Angelo finished first and sat on the bench while Dylan finished up, watching, awed and wondering, as had become his habit in the last few months.How did I get solucky?
As if he’d everknow.
Dylan crouched in front of him, naked, his hands on Angelo’s denim-clad knees. “Are you falling asleep onme?”
“Not yet. Just enjoying theview.”
