Revived (The Dungeon Black Duology 2)

Gingerly, Sean sat on the bed beside him. He’d only stay a minute. Just wanted to watch Max sleep a little. Who knew if he’d ever get a moment like this again.

Max’s eyelids shifted, then his head turned to the side, his bare chest slowly rising and falling. Sean drank him in deeper. Wanted to touch him so bad. Touch him, and hold him, and kiss his lips. The need so strong it physically made him ache. In his chest, in his stomach, clouding his judgment…

Sean reached out before he realized what he was doing and gently brushed the hair from Max’s brow. Max twitched, lashes fluttering, then without an ounce of warning, grabbed Sean by the wrist with iron fingers.

Sean gasped with a start, wholly caught in the act, his hand still by Max’s temple and everything. Max peeled open his eyes and met Sean’s gaze. Sean worked his mouth to apologize, but nothing came.

Not that Max noticed. Or even seemed to care. He was clearly too busy staring at Sean’s face. In the strangest way, too. Like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Like Sean’s presence was a concept hard to fathom.

Sean’s heart pounded riotously. This was it. He was screwed. There was no fucking way he could salvage this. It was one thing to drop off a hello at the door. With that, there was at least a chance Max wouldn’t get pissed. But this? Getting caught red-fucking-handed in Max’s room? Looming over the guy, touching him, as he slept?

Sean was toast.

There’d be no coming back from this. Ever.

But right as his heart took a dive toward the floor, the corners of Max’s mouth slowly curved.

“Cat,” he rasped softly. “Fuck, it feels good to see you.”

* * * * *

“Alright, shy boy. Time to see what you’ve been hiding.”

Scott shoved his gear shift into park, grabbed his duffle, then climbed out of his Challenger. Evidently, tonight was the night for surprise visits. Hopefully, it’d work out for him and Sean.

Scott turned and peered up at Tad’s apartment building, but his thoughts were still back at his house. At first, he’d planned to tell Sean to go, that messing with Max in such a state wasn’t wise. But something about Sean’s demeanor, the concern in his voice, did a one-friggin’-eighty on Scott’s perspective. Made him think that maybe he was looking at shit wrong. That maybe Sean’s visit wasn’t a trigger for World War III, but an opportunity to access a window not typically accessible.

Aka an exchange with Max without weapons or armor. A chance to finally get at his wounds. Get at them and maybe start healing them. God knew, with as drunk as Max currently was, he could only focus on one task at a time. Meaning, in order to remain even remotely coherent, he’d have to abandon all else—including the task of barricading his heart.

Maybe Scott had been wrong before. Maybe a truce was still possible. Possible, and even probable, with Sean as the mediator. He certainly had the determination. Maybe all this time, he’d just needed an in.

“God, I hope so,” Scott muttered, shouldering his duffle. He couldn’t think about them anymore. Had his own quandary to deal with.

Kicking it into gear, he headed for the stairwell, wondering what he was about to discover. He supposed there was a chance that it really was nothing. That he’d merely find Tad with his nose in a textbook.

He didn’t think so, though. Things just felt too… off. And it wasn’t like it’d been gradually getting worse. The shift had sprung up out of nowhere. Hell, all was fine when they spoke before Tad’s class. But after class? There was this big, fat fucking elephant in the room.

Like something had happened.

Scott’s stomach knotted.

But what?

His heart kicked up speed.

Don’t jump to conclusions. Just wait and find out.

Scott stopped at the base of the stairs and exhaled.

Right. No beating down Tad’s fucking door.

Boyfriends frowned on that shit.

And it was rude.

Scott dug out his phone, determined to steer his brain to brighter things. Although, “brighter” probably wasn’t exactly the right word. His lips curved as he dialed. He’d let Tad choose the adjective.

The other end rang. Scott started up the steps.

“Scott,” Tad answered. “Wow. Was just thinking about you.” He was smiling. Scott could hear it.

Scott smiled, too. “Was I naked?”

Tad laughed. “No… But now you are.”

“Nice,” Scott growled. “Maybe you should take a little break and suck on my hard, naked dick.”

A husky little rumble met his ear. “I like breaks.”

“Yes. And I like blowjobs.” Scott reached the top of the steps and strode toward Tad’s door.

A shuffling noise resounded, followed by some quiet.

Finally, Tad exhaled. “I miss you.”

Warmth flooded Scott’s system. “Then come see me,” he murmured.

“I want to… I wish I could.” Tad sounded dejected.

Scott stopped at his apartment. “So, do I.”