“Yes.” Silas smiled brilliantly as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, dark velvet box. Inside sat a simple, elegant, and perfectly understated silver band. It wasn’t new. It had some years on it. Microscopic scratches of a life well-lived, and a dull patina that only comes from decades of wear.
“So,” Silas started, his voice dropping into a breathless, reverent whisper. “Callum Ian Kincaid. Will you marry me?”
I dropped to my knees right in front of him on the canvas, grabbing his face and kissing him with everything I had.
“Yes,” I breathed against his lips. “Fuck, yes.”
He pulled back with shaking hands as he took the silver band from the box. My left hand in his, with his thumb stroking over my knuckles, he slid the ring onto my finger. It glided seamlessly over the joint to settle perfectly into its new home.
“Now you’ve got one to wear, too,” he whispered, a tear dropping from his chin onto our joined hands as he looked at it. “Does it fit okay?”
I spread my fingers, admiring the way the aged silver looked against my tattooed skin. It didn’t just fit; it felt like it had been made specially for me.
“It’s perfect, Si.” I looked up at him. “It’s beautiful.”
Silas let out a massive, full-body sigh of relief, dropping his forehead to my shoulder. “Thank God.”
“Where did you find this?”
Silas pulled back, sniffling, a watery smile on his face. “I searched for weeks trying to find a ring for you, but nothing felt right. Everything was too shiny, or too bulky. But while I was looking, I remembered something. Your ring size… it’s the exact same as my grandfather’s was.”
My breath hitched.
“When he passed,” Silas continued softly, “he left his wedding band to me. He intended for me to wear it whenever I got married, but the ring never fit, and it got shoved in a drawer and forgotten about. It fits you, though. Perfectly,” he whispered as his thumb aimlessly traced the silver. “I feel like…maybe that’s his way of letting me know he supported us. That he loved you, too, and you belong in this family.”
A sob ripped its way out of my chest that I couldn’t stop. The sheer weight of what he was giving me, a piece of his history. I lunged forward, grabbing him by the waist, and kissed him with a desperate, frantic hunger. The momentum carried us backward, and we tumbled onto the mat with my heavy frame pressing him into the canvas. Tears mixed with our kiss, turning the moment into a glassy, heated blur. Exhaustion vanished, replaced entirely by adrenaline and raw, unfiltered need.
My hands pulled desperately at the hems of his clothing, tearing them off and tossing them around the ring. Silas was just as crazed, his hands fighting with the zipper of my hoodie, before his nails scraped hot lines down my chest. Within minutes he had me stripped bare in the freezing air of the metal building.
“I need you,” I growled against his neck where I bit the soft skin., His pulse raced under my teeth. “Right now. Right fucking here.”
“Take me,” Silas moaned, his hips grinding into mine.
I paused, hovering over him, my chest heaving as I looked at his beautiful, flushed face. His chest rose and fell, each breath as labored as mine, while the silver ring glinted on my hand resting next to his head.
“No,” I murmured, my voice a dark, rough rasp as I inched closer. Enough that I could feel the heat of his breath against my skin. “I needyou.”
Silas’s eyes blew wide, his pupils taking over every inch of color until only darkness looked back at me.He understood.
I was the one who always took control, it’s where I thrived. But right now, under the harsh light of this wrestling ring, I wanted to be completely vulnerable forhim. To give every part of myself over to him, again.
Silas’s lips curled into a wicked smirk. “Well, it’s a good thing I came prepared.” He reached into the pocket of his discarded sweatpants and pulled out three small, silver packets of lube.
I stared at the packets, then up at his face, and burst out laughing. “What the hell? You were planning this the entire time? When did you even buy those?”
“I’m a strategist, Cal.” He grinned, flipping me over until I was lying flat on the canvas. “I plan for every outcome.”
The laughter faded, bleeding into an intoxicating silence as Silas crawled over me, his knees bracketing my hips. Reaching up, I pulled him down by the back of his neck, but instead of kissing his lips, I flipped us again. First, I wanted to worship him. I dragged my lips across his chest, trailing open-mouthed kisses down his ribs and their fading bruises, soothing the ache with the heat of my tongue.
I shoved his briefs down his thighs, freeing his hard length, and took him into my mouth in one fell swoop. Silas threw his head back, and a loud moan ripped from his throat. The sound bounced off the metal walls of the building, raw and unrestrained as I took my time. Using my tongue, I traced each thick vein, swirling around his head, before swallowing him deep. I wanted to drive him into a state of complete mindlessness. To show him exactly how much I loved him.
“Cal, fuck, wait,” Silas gasped, his hands tangling in my hair, gently but firmly pulling me back. “Need…inside…now.”
Breathless, I let him go. My own cock throbbed painfully against my stomach as I crawled off him and lay on the cold canvas.
Silas moved quickly, ripping the silver foil open with his teeth. He coated his fingers, his eyes locked on mine with an intensity that screamed his devotion to me. He kneeled between my spread legs, bracing his weight on one hand next to my head as he hovered over me, keeping us face-to-face. Slowly, he slid two fingers inside me, and I hissed, my hips lifting off the canvas instinctively.
“Look at me,” he whispered in an incredibly soft, incredibly sweet tone.
