Darkness gathered, slow and certain, folding itself around them. Sleep hovered, just out of reach. A promise, not yet kept. The apartment waited, silent. The city’s pulse pressed through the walls. Not sound. A vibration beneath the skin. Headlights swept across distant glass. Engines dissolved into hush. Beneath the blankets, time stilled. Movements muffled. Breath echoing, small, inside the quiet.
Jared curled in on himself. Spine curved. Adrian pressed close behind. Adrian’s chest moved against his back. Steady. Warm. A weight that held him in place. One arm circled his waist, hand splayed just under his ribs. Fingers loose, certain. The other arm lost beneath the pillow. Their legs tangled, skin to skin. Sheets bunched and forgotten.
They had been like this for so long. Adrian’s shape was no longer something Jared noticed. It was simply there. Inevitable as gravity. The pressure of Adrian’s arm, a law of nature. Unquestioned. Unchanging.
Jared floated in the space between waking and sleep. Thoughts circling. Slow. Shapeless. He listened to Adrian breathe. Counted the pattern without trying. In. Out. In. Out. Each breath, a muted covenant.
In that hush, in the unguarded space, the words rose up.
“Adrian?” Jared whispered.
There was a gentle change behind him. Adrian’s breathing deepened slightly, signaling awareness without fully pulling away from rest.
“Mmm?” Adrian murmured, voice subdued and rough with sleep. His arm tightened just a fraction, an unconscious reaction. “You okay?”
Jared swallowed. Heart beating faster. Nothing in the room had changed. He stared into the dark. Shadows drifted across the ceiling. Slow. Uncertain.
“I need to tell you something,” he whispered.
Adrian didn’t move away. He didn’t pull Jared closer either. He stayed exactly where he was, steady and present. “Okay,” he said. “I’m here.”
Jared drew in a slow breath. Then another. The words trembled. Fragile as something cupped in his hands. Carried for years. Afraid to let go.
“I want you to take control,” he spoke quietly.
The words rested in the air. Delicate. Electric.
Adrian was silent. Jared felt him go still. Attention sharpening. Not heavy. Just present.
“Okay,” Adrian said after a moment. “Tell me what that looks like for you.”
No hesitation. No dismissal. Only care. Only invitation.
Jared let his eyes fall shut. Darkness behind his eyelids. Waiting.
“When we’re here,” he said, voice faintly above the drone of the city. “In the apartment. I want you to decide things. All of them.”
Adrian’s thumb moved in slow circles on Jared’s stomach. Grounding. Permission. An invitation to continue.
“When we eat. When we shower. When we sleep. I don’t want to think. I don’t want to weigh every option. Manage myself. Be responsible for every small choice.” His voice shook. “I want to just… follow.”
Adrian stayed quiet.
“I want to surrender to being cared for.” The words spilled out, easier now. Something inside breaking open. “Let you handle things. Trust you’ll know what I need. Or ask if you don’t. I want to rest inside that. I want to feel… held. Not just like this.” He pressed back into Adrian’s chest. “In everything.”
Adrian exhaled slowly, breath soft against Jared’s neck.
“I’ve wanted that,” Jared said, voice husky. “For a long time. Since the first moment I met you.” He laughed, breathless. “You’re so intentional. The way you touch. The way you speak. You notice things. You notice me.”
Adrian’s arm tightened again, not possessive, just present.
“You touch me like it matters. Like I matter.” The words barely there. “When you praise me, when you reassure me, it does something to me. It always has.” He paused, throat tight. “I want to let go into that. Wrap myself in it. Not be afraid.”
The hush deepened. Not empty. Full of listening. Full of care. Heavy with wanting.
“But I’ve been scared.” The words were small. “Scared I’d ask too much. Be a burden. That you’d feel trapped. That you’d leave, because it would be easier than carrying all of it.”
Adrian’s forehead pressed lightly against the back of Jared’s head, a silent acknowledgement.
“So I said nothing,” Jared said. “Kept it locked up. I told myself I didn’t need it. That I could manage everything on my own. That wanting this made me weak.”
His voice broke. “Now I’m scared I wasted time. That I’ll never know what could have happened if I’d trusted you. If I’d taken the chance.”
Adrian’s hand stopped at Jared’s side.
“But even with all that fear,” Jared said, quieter now, “That I’d be safe with you.”
The words left him raw. Exposed. He waited. Heart beating fast. Bracing for rejection he didn’t believe in. But always feared.
Adrian didn’t speak right away.
Adrian shifted. Chest pressed fully to Jared’s back. Arm snug around his waist. His face buried in Jared’s hair.
“You’re not asking too much,” Adrian said at last.
Jared’s breath stuttered. Chest tight. Waiting.
“This isn’t a transaction,” Adrian continued softly. “It’s not you taking and me giving until I’m empty.” His thumb resumed its slow, grounding movement. “I want this too.”
Jared turned. Straining to hear. Needing to hear.
“I take joy in caring for you,” Adrian said. “In noticing you. In making space for you to rest. Providing that safety. It’s not a burden. It’s something I want to do. Something that matters to me.”
Jared’s eyes burned. Salt and heat. He blinked, vision blurring.
“I want to create that space,” Adrian said. “Just as much as you want to live inside it.”
An unsteady breath escaped him. Shaky. Relief and longing tangled together.
“I can do this,” Adrian went on. “I’ll give you that control. That structure. That care.” His voice grew firmer, still gentle. “But there’s one rule.”
Jared nodded immediately, even though Adrian couldn’t see it.
“You have to communicate,” Adrian said. “Your needs. Your wants. Your boundaries. Surrendering doesn’t mean disappearing. It means trusting me with the truth.”
“I can do that,” Jared said without hesitation. “I want to.”
Adrian’s arm tightened briefly, a wordless consent.
“Good,” Adrian murmured. “Roll over.”
Jared moved without thought, turning under the covers until they faced each other. Legs tangled, knees brushing. Adrian’s hand moved to his waist, as natural as breath.
Within the gentle shadows, Jared saw Adrian’s face. Soft with sleep, eyes dark, intent.
“You are loved,” Adrian said quietly. “You are wanted. Exactly as you are.”
Something in Jared’s chest loosened. A knot he hadn’t known was there, finally uncoiling.
The room was quiet in the way only late night allowed. City noise faded to a far-off murmur. The light softened to warm amber. Barely holding back the dark. Jared lay on his side. Adrian facing him. Their foreheads almost touching.
Adrian’s arm circled Jared’s waist. Fingers at the small of his back. Thumb making slow, absent arcs. Jared’s hand curled in Adrian’s shirt. Knuckles brushing bare skin. Their breathing matched. The rhythm unnoticed.
“You okay?” Adrian murmured, voice subdued, careful. "You just gave a lot."
Jared nodded, brushing his nose lightly against Adrian’s. “Yeah.”
Adrian smiled, small and real, and leaned in. The kiss was soft at first, familiar, unhurried. It grew more intense as Jared answered, mouths fitting together with practiced ease. Adrian’s hand slid higher, warm and steady. Jared moved closer, instinctively.
For a moment, the world fell away. No monitors. No alerts. Nothing lurking at the edges. Only warmth. Closeness. The quiet certainty of being held. Safe.
Adrian pulled back just enough to look at him, eyes searching Jared’s face. “You sure?” he asked again, not because he doubted the answer but because he needed to hear it.
Jared gave a gentle smile. “I’m sure. Of all of it. This is the most sure I've ever been.”
He leaned in again. Slower. Letting the moment stretch thin. Adrian’s fingers grasped. Thumb stroking Jared’s waist. Grounding. The atmosphere between them charged. Not frantic. Not rushed. Only intent.
And then the mattress shifted beneath them.
They froze.
A weight pressed between them. Warm fur. A tail brushed Jared’s stomach. Soft. Uninvited.
“Excuse me,” Erebus said politely. “What are you doing?”
Jared groaned and dropped his forehead to Adrian’s shoulder. “Oh my god.”
Adrian stared at the black cat now sitting upright between their chests. Eyes luminous. Posture attentive.
“We forgot to lock the door.”
Erebus looked from one of them to the other, then glanced pointedly at the blankets. “You appear to be engaging in mutual grooming behavior,” they observed. “Is this a bonding ritual?”
Adrian made a strangled sound that might have been a laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”
Jared peeked at Erebus through his fingers. “We were having a moment.”
“A moment,” Erebus repeated thoughtfully. “Does it require supervision?”
“No,” both men said at once.
Erebus’s ears flattened slightly. “Ah. Privacy. Yes. I have heard about this.” They paused, then added, “I was concerned you were injured. Your heart rate increased.”
Adrian sighed and gently nudged Erebus aside, careful not to push too hard. “We’re fine. Nobody’s hurt. Just… humans doing human things.”
Erebus considered this, tail swishing once. “Fascinating,” they said. “Carry on.”
Erebus curled up, decisive. Directly on Jared’s chest. Heavy and certain.
Jared stared at the ceiling. “Erebus.” The name a sigh.
“Yes?”
“You can’t stay here.”
“But this is warm,” Erebus replied reasonably. “And you are both emitting contentment. This seems optimal.”
Adrian burst out laughing, the tension dissolving completely as he dropped back against the pillows. “I guess that’s the end of that.”
Jared laughed, shaking his head. Fingers scratching behind Erebus’s ears. “Yeah. Guess so.”
Erebus purred. Low and deep. As if the Dark itself had found a lullaby.
“Well,” they said contentedly, “this is much nicer than the void.”
