Sway was really hoping that somehow Brian had beat him to his house, but he hadn’t. The driveway was dark and empty, so was the house. He thought about waiting in the car but he could only imagine how Brian would look at him if he pulled up and saw him sitting … refusing to use the proffered key and go inside.

Sway sighed. “This is stupid. Go in.” He’s my boyfriend. Sway grinned and got out of the car. The motion-sensor lights activated, and he was able to find the one stone that was fake. Sway climbed the couple of steps and pushed the key into the lock as if it was his own home. A warm and fuzzy feeling encased him before he could stop it. This wasn’t what it felt like. This was a mirage.

He hefted his book bag higher on his shoulder and went inside, flipping on the light switch at the entrance. He made sure to leave it on, so Brian would know he was inside. Your car might be another indicator you’re here, moron. Sway ventured into the kitchen, hurrying and yanking a bottle of water out of the refrigerator. He was moving around as if he was sneaking, as if he wasn’t allowed in there. Sway chuckled at himself. The week had been a long and stressful one. What he needed was a steaming hot shower and dinner. Then Brian.

Sway thought about using the guest bath but quickly changed his mind. Everything was so neat and tidy in there, so he opted for Brian’s master bath which looked clean but well-used. Sway found himself fingering Brian’s toiletries. Noting the brands he preferred. He picked up a lotion in an all-black bottle with an elegant script across the label that read, Kenneth Cole. Sway inhaled deeply, recognizing the scent and exactly where Brian liked to wear it. He wanted to explore some more but he didn’t want to get caught snooping, which wasn’t what he was doing. More like being curious. He pulled out his change of clothes and started the shower, but when his eyes caught on the massive Jacuzzi tub, he quickly diverted.

“I’m sure you won’t mind, babe.” Hell, he didn’t know when Brian was getting home, so he’d make himself comfortable just like he’d been instructed to.

Sway filled the tub—which took a minute—then pressed the button to start the jets. “Oh, hell yes.” He’d always dreamed of having one of these in his own home. He had no doubt they would soothe his aching— “Ahhhh, yes. Oh God that’s good.” Sway sank into the tub, the steaming hot water rising over his pebbled nipples.

He rested his head back against the cushioned lip of the tub and let the pulsing jets do their thing. It wasn’t long before his eyes were getting heavy and his body felt weightless. He was relaxed, finally. He just might take Tweetie up on her offer tonight after all because he wanted nothing more than to climb in that huge bed and curl up under Brian’s warmth and protection.

Brian

Brian sighed dramatically then smiled at his silliness when he pulled his Mustang in beside Sway’s Impala. He glanced at the dark vehicle, then at his house. The foyer light was on, and the kitchen light as well. Brian sat in his car for a moment. He didn’t know it would feel like this. Is that what Ford felt like, coming home every night to Dana? To a home. To a partner.

Brian got out and locked up. He took his duffle bag out of the trunk with his more powerful weapons and surveillance gear. He checked the fake stone before he went inside just to see if Sway returned it … he had. Brian didn’t let that bring down his elation that Sway was indeed there. Like always, he checked behind him before he closed himself in his home.

Immediately, he heard his tub whirring. Brian smiled and headed quickly in that direction, not bothering to remove his coat, boots, anything. He needed to see Sway. Now. Brian went into his room, noticing Sway’s bag at the foot of his bed and some comfy clothes laid out on top of the comforter. Lounging clothes. Was he staying? It was chilly in the room, so Brian tossed some wood into the fireplace and got it going before he went towards the master bath.

Sway was just turning off the jets as Brian stood in the doorway, quietly watching. Sway’s back was to him. His hair was slicked, appearing darker when wet. Gorgeous, flushed, pearly skin. Sharp shoulder blades, beautiful sleek muscles down his back, narrowing right before his plump ass. Brian’s mouth watered at the sight of those cheeks reddened from the hot water. Fine brown hairs started at the base of his spine and fanned out over his ass, the blonde hairs only now noticeable because Sway was soaking wet. Before Sway could turn around, Brian walked over to the towel warmer and took out two large bath sheets.

“Brian. Jesus. You almost gave—” Sway stopped mid-sentence either from the look of unabashed hunger in Brian’s eyes or the tender way that Brian wrapped the first towel around Sway’s waist, never breaking eye contact with him. Then he took the second towel and draped it over Sway’s shoulders. He fisted the towel and pulled Sway towards him, his eyes eating up every surprised, warm emotion that Sway displayed. “Feels good.”

Was Sway talking about the warmed towels, the hot tub, or Brian’s arms?

“I missed your arms around me,” Sway admitted, falling onto Brian’s chest. Sway leaned against him heavily as if he’d been waiting on this one particular moment all week.

Brian had to show Sway he was feeling it too. He’d missed him as well. He bent and brushed his lips across Sway’s moist ones and slowly mouthed. ‘Hey, baby.’

“Mmmm,” Sway moaned against his mouth. “Hey.”

They didn’t say anything else for a moment, letting their tongues and touches do the talking. Using their hands to quench the longing. If it wasn’t for Brian’s stomach growling loudly they probably would’ve moved their re-familiarizing to the bedroom.

“Hungry?” Sway laughed in Brian’s mouth.

Brian smiled and nodded, mouthing, ‘Always.’

“I am too.” Sway took over drying himself off when Brian regretfully released the towel. “I didn’t really get a chance to eat lunch, or take a break for that matter.” Sway followed Brian, talking continuously about his day. “The first trial patients came this week so all the nurses are tripping over themselves to do a good job and in turn making some thoughtless mistakes and overlooks. Hopefully next week, we’ll have worked the kinks out and—”

Brian had been so caught up in the domestic vibe that he’d mindlessly removed his dark jeans and sweater, changing into a pair of plain Nike sweats and a taking out a white, wife-beater. He noticed Sway had stopped talking while he stood with his back to his tall dresser. Realization hit Brian like a hammer to the skull. He went to turn slowly, terrified of the look that he knew would be all over Sway’s face. What had he been thinking? He never removed his shirt in front of anyone—at least not from behind.

“Brian,” Sway whispered reverently.

Brian jumped at Sway’s close proximity. He wanted to move, deflect, something, but his legs were frozen in place. Warm, nimble fingers caressed his rigid shoulders before shakily moving towards the center of his tight blades.

“Relax, please. It’s okay.” Sway spoke in a voice that Brian wanted to desperately believe was reserved only for him. “Brian,” he whispered so softly.

He finally managed to bring his brain online. To convince himself that Sway was not mortified by what he saw. He was touching him, touching them. My scars. Up and down his back and the backs of his thighs. His dense black chest hair hid the ones in the front but not the ones on his back. Countless raised angry welts from the frayed whip that sometimes woke him. Jagged scarring from hurled stones while they had barked at him to confess America’s secrets. Numerous healed over scratches from debris after being dragged across a cave floor for many grueling months, marred his skin like an ever-encompassing reminder of that time. Even now he still couldn’t believe he’d held out that long… even after Jenkins died.

Brian began to shake. He didn’t want Sway to see this yet. Goddammit. Every time they tried to have an evening, something heavy weighed on them. And, unfortunately it was always Brian bringing the weight. Fuck! If he didn’t stop dumping all this heavy shit so fast and so soon, he was going to lose this one. But, Sway, Sway was trying so hard and Brian was screwing it up.

“Brian!” Sway’s voice was louder than before, but Brian was hardly hearing him, even when he started to yell it. “Brian! Oh God. Honey, look at me. Please look at me.”

Brian could feel his legs weakening. Grunting roughly, he wanted to stop it, heaven knows he did, but he knew he was going down. As his oxygen lessened, his head spun, and his ass hit the floor with a loud thud. He could hear Sway’s frantic pleas, but he couldn’t control his body. His breathing became more and more difficult as he thought of how he sabotaged everything good in his damn life. His mission, his career, his life… now this. Sway wasn’t supposed to see those ugly things, at least not yet.

“Breathe. Just look at me and breathe, baby.” Sway’s warm hands clasped his damp cheeks, making him keep his blown pupils on him. “That’s it. Try again. Breathe.”

Brian kept watching Sway’s face, and using those thin, strong fingers as his anchor. He had to come back to him. He couldn’t let him keep begging him. Brian fought to take in another breath, only to choke harshly on it. All the while, Sway held him tight and whispered exactly what Colton always instructed when Brian had a panic attack. Breathe, focus, relax, calm, count. Sway knew it all, knew exactly what to do for him.