“What do you mean, drugged?” Cam screeched. “Why the heck are you home? Shouldn’t you be at the hospital? This isn’t the kind of thing you mess around with, Sebastian!”

Bas pulled the phone away from his ear slightly, for the sake of his eardrums, and propped his ass against his dresser, settling in for Cam’s tirade. He’d pretty much expected this exact response, knowing how protective Cam was of everyone in their odd little friend-family, but he was glad he’d waited until Drew was out of earshot before calling.

“He’s okay, Cam,” Bas soothed when it seemed Cam was winding down. “I promise.”

“But what if—?”

“I told you, he said he didn’t want to go to the hospital,” Bas reminded his brother, rubbing at the tension that had lodged in the back of his neck. “We need to respect his decision.” Bas would, and would make sure everyone else did too, even though he was privately just as outraged as Cam.

“Well, you tell Drew that’s ridiculous!” Cam sputtered. “This Mark person could be doing this to other guys! He needs to be stopped. Put Drew on the line!”

There was a brief scuffle in the background, and then a deep, raspy voice came on the line.

“Bas? It’s Damon. Cam and Cort are still at our place. Cam’s a little bit, uh, worried, but Cort’s got him. Sean already called with some news you’ll wanna hear, but not tonight, eh? We’ll take care of things, and you just take care of McMann.”

“Yeah,” Bas agreed, not even the slightest bit curious about any other news Damon might have for him. As far as Bas was concerned, taking care of Drew was the only priority right now. Everything else could wait. “Tell Cam it’s under control. We’ll check in tomorrow.”

He disconnected, then checked the time on his phone. Drew had been in the shower for at least thirty minutes - time enough for Bas to cook up a batch of pancakes, make a call to get Drew’s phone wiped remotely, and contact Cam. Not enough time, however, for Bas to have calmed down, and the only thing that kept him from barging into the bathroom to check on Drew was the certainty that Drew would kick his ass if he tried.

Drew had been patient with Bas’s fussing to a point - letting Bas help him out of the car, even though he’d insisted he was feeling better after throwing up the contents of his stomach, and could walk by himself; letting Bas help him out of his coat and shoes; even letting Bas run the shower for him and agreeing, after a pointed eye-roll, to keep the door ajar in case he needed help. Bas was pretty sure Drew’s patience with the coddling was done.

Which meant Drew was just gonna have to suck it up, because Bas’s need to take care of Drew, to reassure himself Drew was okay, was nowhere near satisfied.

They had a fuck-ton of things to say to one another… or maybe it was more accurate to say there were a fuck-ton of things Bas was finally ready to admit to and discuss openly, thanks to his conversation with Cort earlier. And then, please God, he wanted to get his mouth back on his best friend.

The only thing that shocked Bas at this point was that he’d waited as long as he had.

The water cut off sharply and Bas straightened, opening his mouth to let Drew know the food had arrived. But before any sound came out, Drew emerged from the bathroom with one towel wrapped low around his hips and another draped across his neck.

Bas sat back down hard, and tried not to swallow his tongue.

Jesus Christ. Just look at him.

Bas had seen Drew half-naked dozens of times over the years. Maybe hundreds, if he counted every beach trip, every swim class, every locker room. He knew the long, lean line of Drew’s torso by heart, knew the tan skin lightly dusted with brown hair over his pecs, and the three tiny moles arranged in an obtuse triangle a bit below and to the right of his belly button, just above the ridge of his pelvic muscle. None of that was a surprise. But years of cataloging Drew’s features in no way prepared Bas for the sight of Drew now. Not now, when every twitch of those muscles begged to be touched, and every stray droplet of water gliding down that flat stomach begged to be followed.

He hadn’t lied when he’d told Cort that he’d enjoyed sex in the past, but the wanting had never been this consuming, this overwhelming. Maybe he’d always held something back. Maybe it was because none of them had been Drew. The man he was in love with.

It was like his conversation with Cort had kicked down a mental barrier he hadn’t realized existed, and suddenly his emotions were tripping over themselves, trying to get out.

He wanted Drew.

He loved Drew.

He was in love with Drew.

Drew stared at Bas uncertainly and lifted one end of the towel to dry his hair. “What?” he asked slowly.

Bas looked away and cleared his throat. “Nothing. Ah, how are you doing?”

“I’m fine. I told you so when we got here and you insisted I needed a shower anyway.” Drew rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “If you thought I smelled like vomit, Seaver, you just had to say so.”

Bas folded his arms over his chest and watched Drew steadily, until finally Drew rolled his eyes and put the towel over his head, rubbing his hair vigorously.

“Fine, fine.” His impatient voice was muffled by the towel. “I do feel better after the shower,” Drew admitted.

“Uh huh. And now you need to eat.” Bas pushed himself off the dresser and walked to the nightstand where he’d left Drew’s dinner.

“Eat?” Drew removed the towel from his head and glanced at the table. “I do feel better, but I really don’t want… Pancakes?” He stared at Bas, wide-eyed. “You made me pancakes and bacon?”

“Pancakes are your favorite comfort food,” Bas told him. But when Drew continued to stare without moving, he asked, “Aren’t they?”

“Yeah. Yes.” Drew sounded breathless — breathless in a good way, like Bas had stumbled into doing something very right somehow — and it took all of Bas’s self-control not to grab him and kiss him senseless.

He went back to rubbing at his neck and motioned Drew to take a seat on the bed. “And I figured they’d be kinda light on your stomach.”

Drew gave him an amused glance, but obediently sat and grabbed a slice of bacon. “You really didn’t have to go to all this trouble,” he said.

Bas folded his arms and leaned against the wall near the table. “Right.”

“You didn’t,” Drew insisted, glancing around. “You cooked me dinner?”

“It’s pancakes, McMann,” Bas grumbled. “I didn’t fetch you a lobster fresh from the ocean.” Which he totally would have, if he’d thought Drew would want it. “Eat.”

“I’m eating, I’m eating,” Drew told him, forking up a bite of pancakes. “You don’t need to stand there and supervise, Sebastian! Who were you talking to?”

“Oh, Cam and the whole crew.” He didn’t want to make Drew uncomfortable by watching him eat, but without anything else to focus on, his gaze kept returning to Drew’s broad shoulders, to the scruff on his jaw. He could feel his pulse kick up. “I told them what happened, and that you’re safe for tonight. They’re all worried, and they all, you know, love you.”

Drew raised one dark eyebrow. “They said that?”

“Eh.” Bas scratched at the back of his neck. “It was understood.”

“Uh huh.”

Drew shifted slightly in his seat to grab the water glass Bas had also placed on the nightstand, and his towel slid open to reveal a thick triangle of pale skin high on his thigh, a place where the sun never reached.

Bas coughed to cover the sudden tightness of his throat and gripped his arms more tightly. He could be patient about this, he could. Hell, he’d waited decades, so he could wait a few more minutes.

“So,” Drew began. He turned his head so that his warm, oh-so-amused brown eyes met Sebastian’s, and deliberately licked maple syrup from his lips. “How are you doing?”

“Me?” Bas shrugged his shoulders against the wall. “I’m fine. It’s not me I’m worried about.”

Drew nodded. He put his fork down and grabbed his water glass again. “You sure?”

No. Nope. He wasn’t sure at all. His entire body felt stretched thin and hummed with tension. The collar of the thick cable sweater was suddenly restrictive, the fabric of his jeans too rough against his skin.

He wanted to talk, and he didn’t. He forced himself to stand against the wall, when he wanted to be three paces away, clutching Drew against him.

He was scared to death - not of taking the next step with Drew, but that he wouldn’t be able to convince Drew to give him, them, a shot. And he was angry, though he was trying really hard to push that down for Drew’s sake, at what that fucker Mark had tried to pull earlier tonight on his man.

“Yeah,” he said brusquely. “I’m sure.”

“Okay, because your hands are kinda telling a different story.”

“My hands?”

“Yeah.” Drew stood, putting his plate back on the nightstand. He tightened the towel around his waist, and stepped forward, placing his palm over Sebastian’s forearm. “You kinda look like you wanna kill someone.”

Bas glanced down, and saw that his crossed arms were balled into fists. He immediately relaxed them. But Drew didn’t step away.

“I wish you would call the police,” Bas admitted. “If only to make sure that this asshole pays for what he tried to do to you.”

Drew shook his head. “First of all, nothing happened.” He held up a restraining hand against the argument Bas had opened his mouth to make. “Nothing happened, in the sense that there was no secondary crime. We can imagine what he was planning to do if he’d gotten me out of the restaurant, but he can’t be prosecuted for what we think might happen. Plus, we don’t have the champagne from the restaurant.”

“Champagne,” Bas scoffed. “Asshole didn’t have the first clue about what you like.”

“Not the first clue,” Drew agreed. He was rubbing his thumb over Bas’s forearm - the simplest touch, but Bas could hardly concentrate on anything else as Drew continued, “We can’t prove there was anything in my drink in the first place, and since I got sick, it’s unlikely there’s anything in my bloodstream at all anymore. So, getting them involved would be useless at best… and at worst, it might call the authorities’ attention to us when we don’t want it.”

Bas swallowed. “So that’s it? There’s no way to stop him from doing this again? No way to punish him?”

Drew smiled. “Oh, no. I told you earlier. I want to make this guy’s life a living hell. I have his Facebook profile, I know where he works. Hell, I know his stupid dog’s name. And…”

“And?”

“And, I happen to know a guy who will hack every electronic device Mark owns, starting with his phone.” Drew brought his other hand up and touched Sebastian’s waist. Even through his sweater, the touch burned. “Pretty sure he won’t even be able to win a round of Dragon Puzzler by the time you’re through with him.”

Bas laughed and shook his head. “You know I will.” He lifted an unsteady hand and ran it over Drew’s head, loving the way Drew’s breath caught, like he was every bit as shaken by the touch as Sebastian was. “But how can you be so calm? God, baby! Weren’t you scared?” He stared into Drew’s eyes. “I can’t stand the idea of you being hurt.”

“I didn’t have time to be scared then.” He stepped closer, until only centimeters then millimeters separated them. “You were there saving me before I even know anything was wrong.”

“And now?” Bas demanded, fingers tangling in Drew’s damp hair while his other hand tentatively reached out to touch the smooth skin of Drew’s flank.

Drew laughed. “Sebastian, how could I have the mental space to think about being scared when you just called me baby?”

Bas grinned. “Did I?”

“You did,” Drew confirmed. “But I won’t hold you to it. You can take it back if you need to. Think it over. Take things as slow as you want, okay? This… us… whatever happens will be at your pace.”

“I don’t want to take it back,” Bas breathed. “And I sure as hell don’t need to think things over. I’m not scared of this anymore.”

Drew slid his arms around Bas’s back, locking their torsos together and smiled gently. “Then how come you’re shaking?”

“Because…” Bas swallowed, and he was shocked - fucking shocked to find himself on the verge of tears. So ridiculous. He hadn’t cried since shortly after his parents had died, for God’s sake. “I wasn’t sure I would be able to convince you. I was worried I’d fucked things up between us.”

“You haven’t.” Drew shook his head. “I promise you haven’t, Bas. I don’t think you ever really could.” Drew lifted a hand to Sebastian’s jaw, traced the curve of Bas’s lips with his thumb. “I was thinking about you earlier.”

“While you were on your date?”

“Yes, yes, while I was on my godforsaken date with the self-absorbed criminal.” Drew rolled his eyes and wrapped both arms around Bas’s waist again, shaking him slightly. “But can we agree that we never, never need to bring this up in conversation again?”

“What?”

“Do not act innocent with me, Sebastian Seaver. I know very well the next time I beat your ass at FIFA, you’re going to bring this up and say at least you never dated Mark Charbonnier.”

Bas considered this, a tricky proposition given the fact that all the blood in his body was rushing below his waist thanks to Drew’s proximity and the heat rising off all that hot, damp skin. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” he croaked. “This isn’t funny, and it never will be.” He tugged Drew’s hair. “But feel free to tell me more about how you were thinking of me.”

“Well, I was thinking about what you said earlier. About how the right path isn’t always obvious, so you need to find your own right way of doing things.”

“I said that?”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Huh. I’m pretty damn smart.”

“Occasionally,” Drew agreed. “And I couldn’t help thinking I was letting my fear prevent me from finding that right way. Because the truth is…” He took a deep breath and the look in his brown eyes was one that Bas hoped to see every day for the rest of his life. “The truth is that I don’t think we can be fucked up, Sebastian. Not as long as we stick together, not as long as we’re fighting for each other and putting each other first.”

Bas sucked in a deep breath. He was not going to cry, goddamn it. Not when he was about to get everything he’d never imagined having. “That, right there, is proof that we are perfect for each other,” he told Drew. “Because you’re pretty damn smart, too.”

Drew laughed, leaning forward to rest his forehead on Sebastian’s chin. His warm breath tickled Bas’s jaw.

“Clearly not that smart, though,” Bas mused, and when Drew pulled back to spear him with a narrow-eyed glare, Bas cupped Drew’s jaw in one hand and whispered, “A truly smart man would have kissed me by now.”

Drew’s eyes widened. “You… you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

“Definitely sure?”

Bas rolled his eyes, and without waiting another second, took Drew’s mouth with his. There was no hesitation this time, and definitely no finesse. All the tension that had been building today – hell, building through the entire lifetime that some part of Bas seemed to have been waiting for this - seemed to crash through him at once, and he pillaged Drew’s mouth, claiming it, owning it.

Drew moaned and pulled Bas even closer, until they were pressed together as fully as possible. He ran a hand up under Bas’s sweater - a sweater that was suddenly way too warm and confining - and the t-shirt below.

Bas let his hands roam over Drew’s back - tracing the smooth muscles, the ridges of his shoulder blades, the bumps of his spine… and then further down until his hand hovered just above the edge of Drew’s towel. Bas hesitated for just a second, letting the moment sink in. This was when their friendship would change forever. There would be no coming back from this… no running away, no pretending it hadn’t happened. And Sebastian found he was totally fine with that.

But the fact remained that, practically speaking, he didn’t know exactly what he was supposed to do after the towel came off.

Drew pulled back, like he could sense Bas’s hesitation.

“At your pace, Bas,” he reminded Bas breathlessly. “There is no rush.”

“I know.”

“Seriously. My God, if we just keep kissing like this all night it will be the single most fulfilling sexual encounter I’ve had in the last decade.”

“Drew…”

“Or, you know,” Drew mused. “Maybe ever.”

“Andrew!” Bas lifted his hand to tickle Drew’s ribs, a move guaranteed to gain the man’s attention. “Are you listening to me?”

“Quit!” Drew yelled, writhing against him. “We were having a moment here.”

Bas wrapped his arms around Drew’s waist again. “We were! So let’s get back to it.”

Drew leaned forward and deliberately bit the edge of Bas’s jaw. “I just don’t want you to feel pressured,” Drew whispered, and Bas squeezed his eyes shut briefly.

Clearly, Bas’s track record of running away from this shit had left scars, and only time would heal them.

Time, and honesty.

“I have no clue what I’m doing, so you’re gonna have to guide me.” Bas ran a hand up Drew’s back, loving the way his palm fit perfectly into the space between Drew’s shoulder blades. Had they always been perfectly aligned this way? Had Bas just failed to see it? “But I promise you, I have never been more sure of anything than I am of you. And the only pressure I feel is happening, ah, under my clothing.” He glanced down significantly.

Drew laughed shortly, but his eyes went molten. “I’d better see what I can do about that then, huh? As your… guide.”

His hands came to Bas’s waist, rucking up the sweater and t-shirt simultaneously. Bas lifted his arms, letting Drew pull the clothing off completely and throw it on Bas’s empty dining chair. Then he stepped closer, pushing Bas back into the wall until their naked chests brushed - intentionally - for the first time ever. He grabbed Bas’s wrists and lowered them, pinning them to the wall near their hips, while his lips blazed a trail of kisses along Bas’s jaw and down his neck. Every individual sensation shot straight to Bas’s cock and he closed his eyes, absorbing it.

“Did that help?” Drew asked innocently. He trailed his lips across Bas’s smooth chest, flicking his tongue over a nipple - a sensation so unexpected it made Bas’s eyes fly open as he cried out. The warm, knowing glint in Drew’s gaze was everything Bas had been missing during sex, without even knowing it.

“I’m afraid not,” Bas murmured. “In fact, I think you’re making it worse.”

Drew made a tsk-ing noise. “Shoot. We can’t have that, can we?”

“Not… Oh, Jesus.” Bas’s thoughts broke off as Drew let go of Bas’s left hand and his fingers wandered slowly over Bas’s abdomen to toy with the button of his jeans. “Not if you want to be a good guide,” Bas bit out desperately.

“And I do,” Drew crooned, all fervent innocence. “What kind of a friend would I be if I let you suffer when I could help you?”

“A terrible kind,” Bas groaned, breath hitching as Drew’s fingers traveled lower, tracing the ridge of Bas’s erection. “Oh, God. The worst kind.”

Drew chuckled softly. “Show me where it hurts, Sebastian. Is it right here?” He pressed the heel of his hand into Bas’s cock and Bas let his head fall back against the wall.

Holy fuck, that felt amazing. He thrust helplessly against Drew’s palm and heat seared him from the inside out. “Please, baby,” he breathed. “Please.”

Drew dropped all pretense and tugged open Sebastian’s fly, pushing his jeans and boxer briefs down to his thighs in one movement. Bas’s erection jutted out, hot and hard, and as he watched, Drew trailed a single finger up the length of it, then over the head.

Bas shuddered at the contact, and for the life of him he couldn’t seem to draw a deep breath.

Drew wrapped his hand around him and lifted his burning gaze to Sebastian’s…

Then sank to his knees.

Oh God, oh God, oh God.

“Is this okay?” Drew whispered, and Bas nodded solemnly. He couldn’t imagine a circumstance where a blow job wouldn’t be okay, but Jesus Christ this was Drew.

Andrew McMann is on his knees for me, he thought to himself, but the words simply wouldn’t compute. So he anchored himself the way he always had, dragging a hand through Drew’s nearly-dry hair, and letting the warm, solid presence of his best friend ground him in reality… even as he took Bas apart.

Drew’s mouth closed over him, enveloping Bas in wet heat.

“Fuck. God, Drew.”

Their gazes remained locked - Bas couldn’t have looked away if he tried - as Drew grabbed Bas’s free hand and directed it to his head, also, encouraging Bas to hold him, to use him. Bas’s eyes widened as Drew’s meaning became clear, but there was no way in hell Bas was going to do that to Drew. He would never hurt him, but especially not tonight. He shook his head frantically, clutching Drew’s hair tighter as he fought the urge to thrust hard, to take everything Drew was offering him.

But Bas should have remembered that Drew McMann had never been one to accept defeat easily. He wrapped one strong arm around Bas’s thigh, holding Bas in place, and bobbed his head forward, taking Bas until he choked once… then twice.

“No!” Bas said, even as his eyes crossed from the obliterating pleasure rushing down his legs and up his spine. “Easy!”

Drew’s eyes watered, but their expression was as stubborn as Bas had ever seen it. Bas pulled firmly on Drew’s hair, forcing him back slightly.

“You want me to take control?” he demanded.

Drew’s moan was the most depraved thing Bas had ever heard.

“Fine. Then we do it my way,” he whispered. He held Drew’s head in place and thrust just slightly, then harder because he couldn’t fucking help it and because the way Drew moaned around his cock when he did it was incredible.

Meanwhile, Drew’s hand was moving beneath the cursed towel, stroking himself to the rhythm of Bas’s thrusts, and oh, God, the connection of it - of Bas inside Drew’s mouth while Drew got them both off in synchronized movements - stole his breath.

It was all happening too fast - the orgasm ready to drag him under with the force of a tsunami, even before he’d told Drew about his own revelations, or put his hands on Drew… hell, before he’d gotten a single peek under that cursed towel.

“Move the fucking towel,” he croaked. “Please. I wanna see you come. I want to watch.”

He hadn’t thought Drew’s eyes could burn any hotter, but somehow Drew managed it. He moved his hand off Bas’s thigh and stripped the towel off himself, flinging it away.

Bas tugged on Drew’s hair, forcing his head back so Bas could get a better view.

And holy hell what a view. Drew’s cock was dark purple and - Bas swallowed - massive. His fingers ached to touch it.

But Drew was done with games. He swallowed Bas back into his mouth and sucked, swirling his tongue in a way that had Bas seeing stars, while his own hand jerked himself once more in a relentless rhythm. And Bas was a goner.

“Please! Oh, God, I can’t stop it.” He was pleading - loud, rough, inarticulate noises.

For Drew to back off.

For Drew to continue.

For Drew.

For Drew.

Always for Drew.

And then before he could draw breath to scream Drew’s name, Bas came in a concussion blast of pleasure that hollowed out his mind, obliterating every wall and obstacle, every doubt and concern, until Drew was the only truth left.