Flicking on the kettle and popping a tea bag in his favourite mug, Michael pictured Aaron’s face in an attempt to gauge his own feelings.
Warmth blossomed inside his chest, flashes of their bathroom encounter heating his cheeks. Yeah, if it was one-sided, then it would be on Aaron’s side, not his. If anything, not seeing him for all this time had only strengthened his desire to take this further. So, not a case of out of sight, out of mind.
What time you coming?He typed, finishing off his tea and sticking a couple of slices of bread in the toaster—tea on an empty stomach always made him feel a bit sick. The toast popped at the same time as his phone buzzed and the doorbell rang. Michael startled in surprise. Leaving the toast for a second, he opened the text message as he headed towards his front door.
Now. That’s me at the door.
Grinning widely, Michael went to slide his phone into his pocket before realising he had pyjama bottoms on.
And nothing else.
The patterned glass oval in his door clearly showed Aaron’s outline, and Michael’s pace quickened. So what if he was only half-dressed? With any luck, they’d be heading in that direction at some point.
Opening the door, he was met with Aaron’s tentative smile.
“Hey.” Aaron’s gaze swept over his torso before lingering on his neck and finally meeting Michael’s eyes. The flash of anger in his gaze took Michael by surprise before Aaron growled out, “I want to kill him for what he did to you.”
His hands clenched at his sides, and Michael would bet good money his claws were out.
Michael shrugged—carefully—and then took hold of Aaron’s fists, uncurling them gently. “The stitches are all out, and the doctors said everything’s healing nicely.”
“I know, but—”
Michael put his fingers over Aaron’s lips, silencing him. Aaron’s pained expression did something funny to Michael’s insides. It’d been a long while since he’d had someone care about him like this, since he’d had to reassure someone he was okay.
“Can I?” Aaron moved his free hand towards the healing scars on Michael’s side, then hesitated.
“Yes.” Glancing down, Michael watched as Aaron reached out a little more.
The pads of his fingers trailed ever so lightly over Michael’s skin, eliciting a shiver.
Aaron glanced up. “You cold?”
“No.” Michael shook his head.
Aaron continued his exploration. He traced the five puncture wounds with such tenderness that Michael’s heart did a little flip, and a quiet gasp escaped him. Placing his palm flat over the marks, Aaron finally looked up again. “Does it hurt still?”
“Only a little.”
Frowning, Aaron moved to give the same treatment to Michael’s shoulder and finally his neck. His hand felt heavy and comforting, resting at the base of Michael’s throat.
Warmth seeped into him, Michael’s body alight where Aaron touched him. It took him two attempts to get words out. “You should come inside.”
Aaron tore his gaze away from Michael’s wounds, his smile reappearing. He slid his hand around to the back of Michael’s neck and gently tugged him forward until their foreheads touched. “I should. I don’t want to keep you standing out here half-naked. You’ll catch a chill.” He took a step closer. The coarse material of his jacket brushed against Michael’s chest, but all he felt was the heat of Aaron being so close.
He wanted to lean into him, be wrapped up in his tight embrace until he couldn’t feel anything but Aaron.
Aaron sighed, his breath tickling the side of Michael’s neck. “Come on then,” he whispered, placing a kiss at the base of his throat, then another… five in total. One for each mark left by Blake’s claws.
As ridiculous as it seemed, Michael felt each kiss wipe away the memory of Blake’s hands on him. He could have stayed there all day, Aaron’s mouth on him a heady distraction.
The sound of the front door closing jarred him, and Michael glanced around to see that Aaron had managed to manoeuvre him backwards into his hallway without him realising.
“Now what?” Aaron whispered, his lips still ghosting barely there kisses over Michael’s neck.
He added his tongue to the mix, and Michael hummed in approval, taking a moment to digest his words. They should talk. So much had happened since Michael last spoke to him face-to-face, and he wanted to know where they stood now.
But Aaron had one hand on his neck and one on the base of his spine, with his mouth tucked into the juncture between Michael’s neck and shoulder. He felt Aaron inhale, then sigh, the curves of his smile obvious against Michael’s bare skin.
