Vars’s eyebrows shot up. “You really must be hungry. But how about you be a good boy and fix two plates for us, huh?” he asked, rubbing Jake’s thigh.
Jake had no idea how to name all the things Vars was making him feel. He smiled and started arranging the pancakes on two plates, already drooling over the bacon. He sneaked a glance at Vars, once more amazed just how handsome he was with that salt-and-pepper beard, the stern eyebrows, and the most kissable lips.
Vars pressed down the coffee grinds in the french press and poured a cup for each of them. He made Jake’s just the way he liked it, milky and sweet, while he himself had it black. So he was one of those cool people who’d drink pure caffeine syrup all day without getting all twitchy. “How are you feeling overall?”
“A bit sore.” Jake gave a sheepish laugh. He hesitated, hovering his hand over his food, but then he thought of how much work had gone into this feast and chose to use cutlery after all.
Vars snorted and had a sip of his drink while backing away on the bed until he rested against the wall. “I was asking about the gargoyle thing, but do indulge me.”
Jake played a careful balancing act of holding the tray in his lap while rubbing his foot against Vars’s ankle. “I’m… it’s still hard to believe that what’s happening to me is real, but… it is. So I’m scared I guess. I’m hardly a coward for freaking out over what happened.”
“No, of course you aren’t a coward. Anyone would be freaked out,” Vars said softly, and when his warm hand settled on Jake’s nape, it really was as if he were washing away Jake’s shame with his acceptance.
But when Vars’s thumb slipped under the collar, reminding Jake once more of its existence, the thrill of it went all the way down his spine. He was dubious about giving anyone that much power over him, yet just yesterday, after finding out about Jake’s betrayal, Vars could have crushed Jake, told him to drown himself in the lake, and the collar would have made it happen. But Vars hadn’t executed revenge on Jake. He took care of him instead.
“But that thing is locked away now. It won’t come out without your permission.”
Vars watched Jake for a few long seconds, then pushed his plate into Jake’s lap. “Will you cut this up for me?”
Jake stalled, locking his eyes with Vars, but then used his knife and fork on Vars’s pancakes, cutting them up into bite-sized pieces. “Arthritic already?” He winked at Vars, but something else was going on inside his chest that wouldn’t give him a rest. Was he excited or nervous?
“I carried you to bed yesterday. Could you have done that, were our roles reversed?” Vars asked, his hand gently massaging Jake’s nape.
Was that a challenge? Jake frowned and pressed a piece of pancake on a fork to Vars’s lips. “Hell yes. I’m strong. Maybe I’d have to put you down a few times if it was far away, but I could do that.”
Vars squinted at him even as he ate the morsel of food, licking up the syrup off the fork. “I’d have to see that happen. I’m heavy.”
Jake glanced at Vars’s thick arms. The man wasn’t lying—he was solid. “Another bet?” He wiggled his eyebrows and fed Vars more pancake.
Vars roared with laughter and pulled Jake closer, his hand sliding along Jake’s shoulder, all the way to his arm. “You know, I always thought you’re the perfect shoeshine...”
A flush rose up Jake’s face, and he broke eye contact with Vars, watching the man pull out a cigar from a metal case. “I’ve got a lot of experience.”
“I know. And you have no idea how it makes me feel to see you on your knees in front of Knight, with you cradling his boot to your chest and polishing it so vigorously.” It was a low murmur, and each word was like an additional link of a chain attached to the collar on Jake’s neck.
“I just want to do a good job,” Jake muttered, but even he knew this wasn’t entirely true. Once Knight had stopped sleeping with him, serving Knight in other ways had still been a turn-on sometimes. Even when he was alone in his room, he’d know whose shoes he was polishing and it gave him a kick just like the pat on the back he’d get for a job well done. He wanted to do a good job now.
He couldn’t explain why, but for once he wasn’t afraid of the creature inside him. He took the cigar out of Vars’s hand, and before the man could protest, Jake forced a tiny fireball out of his throat that lit the tobacco.