It felt a little repetitive to keep thinking about how nice the place was, but even after a morning of wandering around Nic’s condo loft, Kyle couldn’t get used to it.

He hadn’t answered Nic’s offer yet, but he also hadn’t made a move to contact River or Evie or anyone else and ask for a floor to sleep on. Every time he thought about it, it made his heart ache.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t turn down a warm bed. It wasn’t even sexual… although he wanted to fuck Nic against every wall in this place when he watched how limber Nic’s fingers were on his keyboard and how his tongue darted across his lips distractedly while he typed.

Maybe it was his company. Nic was home more than the others—except Evie worked from home a lot, too, and his son was also there.

Okay, so it was Nic.

What was holding him back?

So as not to disturb Nic, though it seemed like only an elephant stampede could disturb him now that he was in his mental work zone, Kyle kept his steps quiet. He wandered down the hall from the front door to the living room again, gazing up at the vaulted ceiling.

It was really pretty here. Spacious and light, and his heart rose every time he looked around at the tastefully-decorated surroundings. It was a lot like his own style.

But there was no avoiding it: it was expensive. And Kyle certainly knew Nic didn’t use his money as a weapon, like his father, but it was… kind of overwhelming.

And that’s my own issue, Kyle reminded himself yet again.

It was crunch time. He had to get over that issue sooner or later, and if he could, maybe something way better than he’d dared to dream for himself lay in wait.

There was rustling from the kitchen. Nic was up and getting snacks. Now was the perfect time.

Kyle slid his hands into his pockets to stop them shaking as he wandered toward the kitchen and leaned against the island.

“Chips?”

“Yes, please. I’ve been thinking.”

“Uh oh.” Nic glanced at him and half-smiled, dumping chips into a bowl. “Pop? About?”

“Yes, please. About… uh, your offer.”

“Right.” Nic turned to face him, seemingly steeling himself. “And?”

Kyle’s gaze flickered over his face. Why did he have to prepare himself? Was he that accustomed to rejection?

It was a familiar expression. God knew, as outgoing as he was, as attractive as some people found Kyle, a lot of people… well, didn’t.

You’re just too much.

He’d heard it over and over. From at least one of his exes, some hookups, an old boss…

Maybe Nic was worried about the opposite. Kyle was almost positive of it, after the brief flashes of insightful conversation they’d had. Nic thought that he wasn’t enough.

Kyle got it out there as fast as he could. “I want to stay with you, here, in the loft. If you’ll promise me one thing.”

Nic looked wary, but he nodded for him to go on.

“If you’ll try to embrace who you are—who you really are.” Kyle leaned in and tapped Nic’s chest gently with two fingers, then spread his fingers and his palm against Nic’s chest. Nic’s heart was racing. “And not let anyone else dictate what kind of man you are. I’ll stay with you, if you’re brave enough to be you.”

For a moment, he was sure Nic wasn’t going to agree to it. He’d just scoff and say he didn’t need anyone telling him what to do, or that he wasn’t as girly as some men, or… one of the other responses Kyle was used to getting from someone who wanted to be femme like him but was too afraid of what that meant.

But Nic was gazing at him gently, his brow furrowed as he worked through it. No instant rejection.

Kyle held his breath and waited, his hand still on Nic’s chest.

Finally, Nic raised his hand to cover Kyle’s hand with his own, then stepped closer and tilted his head.

Kyle leaned in to press their lips together gently, raising his other hand to cup the back of Nic’s neck. Oh, sweetheart. I want to help you be… you.

Nic’s lips were soft and gentle, his kiss tender. Almost too gentle for what Kyle felt he needed right now, but he quelled the itch in his chest by shifting from foot to foot. He just wasn’t used to tenderness, that was all.

Nic’s hands tentatively rested on his shoulders now, and Kyle nudged one of them to his hip. Given the permission, Nic’s grip tightened, but his lips still ghosted over Kyle’s in a slow exploration.

“Okay,” Nic finally breathed out against Kyle’s mouth, then leaned into him.

Kyle wrapped his arms around him to support his weight, pressing his chin against Nic’s shoulder. Nic was just a little taller than him—not even an inch, probably. “Okay?”

“Yeah. I’ll try. We’ll go get some of your stuff after work.”

“Okay.” Kyle’s phone was going off with a text message notification. “Shit. Sorry.” He groaned, but Nic chuckled softly and pulled back.

“It’s okay. I gotta work, and if you keep doing that, I’ll never focus,” Nic winked.

Kyle smirked and grabbed the bowl of chips, tucking it against his hip like a laundry basket and sashaying into the living room to grab his phone and collapse on the couch next to Nic’s work spot. “I won’t distract you. I’ll just watch.”

A glance at Nic’s screen and Kyle raised his brow. No way could he understand the words on the screen. Some of them were real words, but there were too many symbols. He could understand basic HTML and CSS—who couldn’t, these days?—but that was it.

“You’ll just watch me,” Nic repeated, snorting. “Way to sound creepy.” Nic brought over cans of pop and sat next to him, handing one to him.

“What about in a sexy way?”

“And we’re back to distracting me.”

“I’m capable of non-creepy, non-sexy watching,” Kyle stated with a grin. “In theory.”

“Is this an unproven theory?”

“Very much.” Kyle glanced down at his phone as the reminder vibration buzzed in his hand.

It was River. Actually, six texts from River, and a missed call. Shit. He’d muted his phone so he didn’t disturb Nic, and he’d forgotten.

I will smack you six ways from Sunday if you don’t text me, asshole.

“Oops. I’m in trouble with River,” Kyle laughed quietly.

“Have you called him?”

Kyle blushed. “Just from the hospital. Not since last night.”

He quickly responded: I’m okay. At Nic’s place.

River’s response was just: ???!!!

I needed to be around someone and he looked after Kevin so it worked out.

River’s response text had five winking faces in a row, followed by the eggplant.

Kyle burst out laughing, then cleared his throat and quieted, glancing at Nic. “Sorry.”

Nic’s lips were quirked into a smile as he glanced over, the laptop comfortably settled on his lap. He grabbed a couple chips and shrugged. “It’s fine. I’m nearly done work for today anyway. And I won’t ask.”

“Better that way,” Kyle agreed.

He answered with a single wink emoticon of his own.

River’s text demanded: DETAILS.

Later.

SOON.

Soon later. Don’t you have work to do? Kyle teased.

River told him, Yes, so I’ll throttle you later. Glad you’re alive, asshole.

This time, Kyle managed to stifle his laughter, but barely. Me too. Love you, Riv.

River sent back the kissing emoticon and: u2.

Kyle set his phone down beside him and propped his chin on his fist, his elbow on the back of the couch. Slowly, he worked through the bowl of chips and his pop while he watched Nic.

By now, Nic was focused again—so much so that he forgot to eat any of the chips or drink his pop, but Kyle wasn’t sure Nic wanted to be disturbed and reminded. The symbols and words were flying from his fingers across the screen.

The soothing lull of clicking, the warmth of the blanket around his shoulders, a full belly of junk food, and the contentment of having a safe place of his own again…

He napped for an hour, his head against the back of the couch and a few inches away from Nic’s shoulder. Kyle breathed in his scent, even if he was just far enough that he had to imagine his body heat.

Everything was perfect, as long as he didn’t think about bringing Nic back to his place again in daylight, now that Kyle had seen the kind of surroundings Nic was used to.

Surely he won’t judge me. I trust him not to. I’m sure of it.

Now that the thought had crept into his head again, though, Kyle couldn’t sit still. He contained his fidgeting as best he could. Waiting for Nic to finish work quickly became an exercise in torture rather than a pleasurable way to pass the rest of the hour.

I trust him. Don’t I?