Chapter Ten
When Danny woke up curled around a warm body, it took him a solid few seconds to remember who he’d gone to bed with, and why. He froze as soon as he realized he was bear-hugging Eliot as though he was a beloved stuffed animal, not sure what to do.
Danny had his nose pressed into Eliot’s hair, the same cedar and lemon smell he remembered from yesterday filling his nostrils. It took him right back to the kiss they’d shared, but also back to Eliot helping him to the car and covering for him.
He knew it wasn’t out of love, exactly, but it had been the first time he’d felt loved in a long time. Or more accurately, the first time he’d felt cared about. Eliot didn’t love him, but he had proven his loyalty. That meant a lot.
It was nice to wake up next to someone, too. Danny couldn’t deny that, even if he wanted to.
His cock apparently thought so as well.
Having realized that, Danny knew he couldn’t let Eliot wake up like this. He unwrapped his arms from Eliot’s chest gently, trying not to make any sudden movements that might wake him.
Once he’d managed to wriggle away without disturbing Eliot, Danny breathed a sigh of relief. He’d gotten away with it, and Eliot would never need to know.
“You didn’t need to move on my account,” Eliot said after a moment, clearly awake.
He must have been awake the whole time.
Danny swore under his breath, embarrassed that Eliot had witnessed all of that.
“I, uh…” Danny struggled for something to say in response, and decided that the best course of action was to own what he’d done and play it off like it was no big deal.
It wasn’t really a big deal, after all. Eliot had been warm, and he’d been in pain. Of course he’d sought him out in his sleep. That made all the sense in the world.
That was Danny’s story, and he was sticking to it.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I won’t even try to stop you breaking my fingers.”
“Lucky for you, I was joking.” Eliot rolled over to face him. Danny had never seen Eliot like this before—his eyes unfocused, his hair all over the place, sleep-rumpled in one of Danny’s old t-shirts.
He was…
Danny shoved the thought aside before he could finish it. That wasn’t a road he needed to go down, even mentally.
He watched Eliot roll over again, reaching out to the bedside table to grab his phone.
“Roll over and pretend to be asleep,” Eliot instructed, still sleepy, but way more awake than Danny was.
“Why?” Danny asked, even as he obeyed. Eliot had a surprisingly forceful tone that made Danny want to follow his orders automatically. That was probably a habit he needed to get out of before Eliot noticed.
“I’m taking a selfie with you in the background so I can make a coy Instagram post about having spent the night here. So that anyone who saw you stumble will be silenced by your apparent sexual prowess.”
“Hey, I’m awesome in bed,” Danny defended. “Even with a busted knee.”
“You’re definitely good at sleeping. I tried to wake you half a dozen times before giving up,” Eliot said.
Danny sighed. There was no point in trying to pretend to Eliot that he was at his peak. He just wasn’t, and as hard as it was to accept that, he was eventually going to have to.
If he started being honest about it now with someone he trusted, maybe it’d be easier to ask people in future to understand that he wasn’t twenty-five anymore. That he was scarred and worn out and sometimes in too much pain to do anything but lie down and complain about it.
Not that he was that much older, but with his thirtieth birthday approaching at what felt like the speed of light, Danny felt old. Even next to Eliot, who he only had three-odd years on, he felt ancient.
That was the pain talking, he knew. Knowing that didn’t actually help with the feeling, though.
“There, posted. I promise to imply that you’re the best I’ve ever had.”
“Good.” Danny rolled back over to face Eliot again. His knee felt a little better, but he’d have to be gentle with it today if he wanted it to last him for the rest of the season.
