Apollo frowned and his eyes narrowed. “Look. I don’t want to give you the wrong impression here. You’re a great—”
“You say ‘great kid’ and I’m going to pop you, injured or not.” Dylan sighed and set his sandwich down. “And you’re thinking in black and white where the only alternatives are never touching again and some grand romance that neither of us wants.”
“You don’t?”
Dylan forced himself to laugh. It didn’t matter what the secret, long-buried part of himself might want. Asking for anything more with Apollo was a recipe for heartache. “I’m only in town for a few more weeks. There’s no reason why we can’t keep things casual and hook up privately here and there. Get this out of our systems, then go back to being friends in the fall. I’ll be back in Oregon, and maybe you’ll be in a better position to sort out what you want for the future.” Which won’t be me. Really, what Dylan was offering was a chance for himself to get Apollo out of his system, get over his silly obsession once and for all.
Apollo shifted in his chair, then grimaced.
“Take. The. Meds.” Maybe he couldn’t convince Apollo on the value of a summer fling, but he sure wasn’t going to stand by and let him suffer.
“Okay, okay.” Apollo stood with a groan, then got the pills off the counter. He grabbed for a knife.
Dylan made a warning noise. “Take the dose the doctor prescribed. If you can’t listen to me, at least listen to the doctor.”
Setting the knife down, Apollo swallowed the pills. “I am listening to you. I’m just not sure casual-and-secret is fair to you.”
This time Dylan’s laugh was genuine. “I get to get horizontal with the hottest guy I know? Yeah, terribly unfair. And like I’ve said before, I don’t like one-night stands. I’d rather have some benefits with you than spend my weekends at the club—”
Apollo cut him off with a growl. Dylan had to smile at that. Didn’t matter what Apollo was telling himself, his jealousy was adorable. “You’re not having random hook-ups.”
“Good. Glad we’re in agreement there.” Dylan put their plates in the dishwasher. “We don’t have to overthink this. We can do whatever whenever. Doesn’t have to be complicated.”
Apollo rubbed at his temples. “If...say I agree to this insanity. Where does that leave us right now? Tonight?”
“You’re about to trip balls again before you pass out, I bet.” Dylan steered him toward the stairs. “It’s a fair trade for you getting some pain-free sleep, but no, I’m not about to get sexy with you when you’re all loopy. You’re going to lie down in my bed, and I’m going to set up my tablet for you if you can’t sleep right away.”
He stopped outside his room. He didn’t want to come right out and say it, but he didn’t want Apollo sleeping in the master bedroom that night, stewing in his complicated emotions. He got it, he really did. He wasn’t ever going to be Neal’s replacement. The most he could hope for was pleasant distraction, which honestly, Apollo desperately needed.
“Not sure I need the tablet.” Apollo yawned, and Dylan shoved him toward the bed.
“Then sleep.”
“You sure about giving me your bed?” Apollo asked even as he went ahead and stretched out on it.
“Yup.” Dylan backed up toward the door. “Sleep well. I’m going to go crash on the couch, but feel free to shout for me if you need anything.”
“Wait.” Apollo didn’t meet Dylan’s eyes, instead addressing the far wall that was lined with bookcases. “You want...we could share? Not sex. Just...”
“I got you.” Dylan saved him from his rambling and went and lay next to him. “You want me to lie here awhile? You can kick me out if it ends up making it too hard for you to sleep.”
“Yeah.” Apollo’s sigh was full of gratitude. He arranged himself like he’d been before, flat on his back with pillows under his knees. “Can’t exactly...cuddle, but I don’t want to be alone right now.”
“You only want someone to tell about how pretty the world gets when your meds kick in.” Dylan rubbed his shoulder. “And I don’t need cuddling,” he lied.
In truth, this was a weird-ass world they were navigating, a tenuous friendship with a guy determined to see him as a kid already threatened by their attraction, something a series of casual hook-ups was probably not going to improve, no matter how loudly Dylan advocated for that course of action. He was being selfish, wanting to get Apollo out of his system, even as things were bound to get more, not less, awkward.
Apollo’s breathing got deeper, and Dylan thought he might be asleep when his hand snaked out, found Dylan’s and held it tight. “This okay?”
“It’s perfect.” Dylan’s heart leaped up into his throat. Perfect. Perfect was the lies he was telling himself and Apollo—no way could he trust himself to keep it casual, no way was he coming out of this without his heart nicked, not when Apollo went and did achingly sweet things like this.