DONNIE LEANED OVER the box sitting on the kitchen table. “What did you bring?”

Ben slapped his fingers when Donnie reached for the satin band holding the lid down. He carefully undid the knot himself and opened the box.

“Apricot torte.” He looked up when Donnie gave a throaty laugh.

“Too gay?” Ben had a hard time keeping his face straight.

Donnie shrugged. “Who gives a shit what it’s called? Looks delicious!” His hand snuck over the rim of the box, and Ben smacked him on the knuckles a second time. “Dinner first. And take some extra enzymes. The torte’s been made with low-fat pastry, but better safe than sorry.”

“All right, Mom,” Donnie drawled in an exaggerated pout.

“Behave, or no dessert,” Ben said, still grinning. He replaced the lid to hide the cake from view, then walked around the table to the hearth. As he passed Donnie, he squeezed his left buttock. “What’s for dinner, honey?” he continued in his best fifties household commercial voice. Donnie grinned and gave him a shy, flirty look from under his lashes. He enjoyed their easy banter.

In the two weeks since Ben had moved in, the two of them had developed a comfortable routine. Donnie had taken to cooking like a fish to water. Armed with a book full of recipes from the hospital’s diet specialist, he had taken over most of the kitchen duties with enthusiasm and remarkable skill. He was determined to make the best of a bad situation. Keeping up the healthy new lifestyle was easier for him when he could share his dinner with an appreciative party, and Ben was more than happy to be Donnie’s guinea pig for all things culinary.

And he didn’t mind changing his routine to match Donnie’s wherever necessary to keep the other man healthy. Donnie had to eat small regular meals throughout the day, low in fat and salt to avoid stomach pain and nausea. But he always remembered to put some extra olive oil and salt on one part of the dinner dish so that Ben would enjoy his food, too.

“We finally got that computer someone donated set up in Arthur’s office today. None of us really know how it works, but I found a recipe for paella online,” Donnie said. “Left out that fatty chorizo sausage, hope you don’t mind. You like seafood, right?”

Ben smiled over his shoulder at Donnie while stirring the pan. “I love seafood! This smells absolutely delicious!” Donnie looked pleased with himself, blushing at the praise. Ben went over to the cupboards to get plates and glasses. “You bought the shrimp from the farmers market? Did you remember the fresh fruit and vegetables?”

Donnie nodded but looked uncomfortable. “Yeah, I did. But, Ben...”

Balancing a pile of plates and glasses in one hand, Ben stepped very close in front of Donnie and put his free hand around his neck. “Hey, we talked about this. Your well-being comes first. You gotta have the healthy stuff, every day, no exceptions. You know what the dietitian said.” He tried to lock eyes with Donnie, who wasn’t having it. Ben sighed. “I just can’t bear the thought of you getting sick again.”

Every week, Ben put as much money as he could into the jar they kept in the kitchen for grocery shopping. They did the shopping list together, and Ben checked with Donnie every night that he’d bought everything they’d agreed. Donnie was embarrassed that Ben contributed so much money just for his sake, but Ben insisted. Paying into two households was a struggle, yes, but it was worth it, witnessing Donnie’s delight when a meal came out well, and seeing him fill out a little again, too.

Donnie’s eyes were directed to somewhere in the region of Ben’s belt buckle, and he chewed his lip. “I know,” he mumbled eventually.

“C’mon,” Ben said, determined to keep the evening free of self-doubt and guilt. “You know how much I love to mother you. Indulge me, will you?” It was a lie. Ben didn’t enjoy treating a grown man like this. But he would keep doing it if it meant that Donnie stayed healthy.

At that, Donnie finally glanced up, and Ben gave him a wink. Donnie blushed, then grinned.

“Right,” Ben said and let go of Donnie’s neck. “That masterpiece of yours, is it almost finished? I’m starving!” He set the table while Donnie put the last touches on the paella and brought over the pan.

During dinner, they talked about their day. As usual, Donnie listened rather than talked. But there were no frosty mealtime silences here like Ben had had to endure with Helen and Laura in the last few months. Ben was content in his new temporary home. Never mind the peeling paint on the walls and the cheap scratched Formica tabletop. At least he was with someone who genuinely wanted him around.

Donnie came alive over the apricot torte. His eyes shone, and the smile on his face was huge. When he’d finished a second slice, he leaned back and his features relaxed into unmarred bliss. A warm happiness flooded Ben’s chest.

“That pie was amazing!” Donnie gave Ben a glance from under heavily lidded eyes. The expression on his face reminded Ben of the way Donnie looked during sex, and his denims grew tight. “We’ll have that every night now, right?”

“Dude, we can have it morning, day, and night if it makes you look like this,” Ben said and squeezed Donnie’s leg under the table. Donnie’s eyes sparkled.

“Was gonna suggest we watch a movie,” he murmured. “Fuck it.”

And with that, Donnie got to his feet, took Ben’s hand, and pulled him up and toward his bedroom.

Donnie’s bedroom always evoked mixed feelings in Ben. It was small, narrow, and dark, and while Donnie kept it neat like the rest of the place, it had a neglected, dingy quality about it.

Not that the rest of the house was much better. While Corinth was comprised largely of middle-class homes, it had its share of run-down neighborhoods like the one the Saunders brothers lived in. In the line of duty, Ben had seen his fair share of poorly maintained homes. Living in one of them, however, was another matter.

But it wasn’t just the shabbiness of the place that lay like a heavy fog over his and Donnie’s attempt of a new life. Floyd’s continued absence was a constant silent specter, and the longer he stayed missing, the heavier his strange non-presence was felt. Donnie never went into Floyd’s bedroom, which was the first room off the short hallway, and Ben never asked to see it. But Donnie would glance at the door every time he passed it, and on a few occasions, Ben noticed him standing very close to it, not moving. Then Donnie would shake his head and find something to do as far away from that room as was possible in the tiny house.

But sometimes, just like now when they were together in Donnie’s room, all of that was forgotten. Simply because this had been the first place he had ever made love to Donnie, this tiny room would hold a special place in Ben’s heart forever.

Ben let Donnie take the lead. They’d had sex once since their first night together, and that time had been awkward. Donnie had been tense and fearful, and Ben had wanted to stop. But every time he’d asked Donnie if they should just leave it, Donnie had shaken his head. So Ben had persevered. The guilt over that night had been niggling at the back of his brain ever since. All through the act, Donnie had looked like he was in pain. They’d both come quickly, but when Ben returned from the bathroom, Donnie had been curled up on his side and didn’t look at him. They’d gone to sleep without speaking, their backs to each other, awkward and uncomfortable on the narrow mattress.

Now everything was different. Donnie was eager, even enthusiastic, and his hands just wouldn’t hold still. Eyes closed, Donnie crowded in, rubbing against Ben until Ben’s crotch was on fire. Hungrily, he claimed Ben’s mouth while pushing Ben’s shirt up his chest and out of the way.

They didn’t speak, barely made eye contact now. Donnie commandeered Ben down onto the narrow bed without uttering a word. They lost their clothes in a haphazard fashion, rushing to get skin onto skin. Soon Donnie, buck naked and panting, straddled Ben. For a brief moment, Ben contemplated telling Donnie to slow down, but a look at the flushed face, the chest that already glistened with sweat in the balmy evening heat, told him that all was okay. This wasn’t desperation or fear. This was uninhibited lust, and if Donnie wanted it this way, then Ben would let him have it.

Donnie leaned down, supporting himself on his left forearm, their chests almost touching. A flash of indigo caught Ben’s eye, but Donnie was intent on his task and didn’t look up again. He retrieved condoms and slick from the nightstand, then straightened up and scooted back.

He took Ben’s erection in one hand and gave it a few quick strokes. The heat built as blood rushed to Ben’s groin. He moaned.

That made Donnie look up, at last. He gave a small smile and tightened his fingers on Ben’s erection.

“God...,” Ben breathed.

Donnie didn’t torture him for long. A few more strokes, to make sure Ben was fully hard, then Donnie rolled down the condom to the base of the shaft. A small amount of slick, quickly warmed between Donnie’s fingers, and Ben was ready. Donnie straddled him again.

“You good?” Donnie’s voice was a low growl. His fast breathing could be nervousness as much as arousal. Ben pushed the thought away.

“M’real good. You?”

Donnie gave a jerky nod. “So ready,” he murmured, then reached behind himself and took hold of Ben once again. Ben placed his hands to either side on Donnie’s hips while Donnie lowered himself inch by inch. As Donnie’s tightness closed around him, Ben allowed his eyes to glide shut.

Soon Donnie moved faster and faster, and Ben opened his eyes again, mesmerized by the view. Donnie’s body moving above him, the narrow hips, the milk-white shoulders. Ben let his hands glide up Donnie’s sides, and Donnie hummed, let his head tip back. Ben could feel the muscles ripple, the skin heat up under his fingers. Donnie felt like silk, like granite and marble, smooth yet firm. Ben loved every inch of him, loved how the emaciated look left over by the painful illness had given way again to health and strength. He glided his right hand down now, brushing the dark hair on Donnie’s belly, which was fuller again, too. Ben took hold of Donnie’s erection.

The position worked like a dream for them both, but the peak almost came too soon. Before Ben really knew what had happened, a sudden flash of heat erupted behind his navel, and Donnie tightened around him. He felt the spasm at the same time as Donnie’s hot cum started running down his fingers. Listening to Donnie’s moans of pleasure, Ben rode the endless wave.

The only thing moving for a long time was Donnie’s chest, expanding in rapid breaths, and the veins on his neck, pulsing. Donnie savored his own orgasm with eyes closed, as the flush of sex receded, the skin around his collarbones returning to its luminescence. Ben’s own heart slowed, his own breath returned to equilibrium, and finally Donnie looked down. His eyes were glowing; his smile was lazy and lopsided. He reached out and placed his hand against Ben’s face. For once, he seemed unconcerned about bodily fluids, confident that their various medications kept them safe.

“That was incredible, Donnie,” Ben said with feeling. Donnie nodded, the broad, soft tip of his thumb stroking Ben’s chin.

“Yeah,” Donnie murmured. “Had no idea it can be like that.”