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But then why was Bear so insistent on pushing him away?
"Damn it," Julian whispered, his fingers curling into fists as he fought against the bitter taste of disappointment. For now, he would have to accept the reality before him: Bear was off-limits, unattainable.
But as the memory of Bear's touch lingered on his skin, Julian couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between them—and it couldn't be undone.
6 2281
The flickering street lights cast a hazy glow on the deserted streets as Bear drove. Julian, slumped in the passenger seat, stared out the window, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. It was deep in the middle of the night, and the bone-deep weariness that had settled into his muscles made it nearly impossible to keep his head from lolling to the side. He resisted the urge to rest it against Bear's shoulder, knowing he would be met with a grunt of disapproval.
"Ugh," Julian mumbled, rubbing his tired eyes. "Can't we move during daylight hours, like normal people?"
"Normal people don't have hitmen after them," Bear grunted in response, his focus never straying from the road ahead. "We're not normal."
Julian let out a sigh, feeling the weight of their situation bearing down on him. It had been a whole day since Bear spanked him, and Julian couldn't help but replay the scene in his mind: the firm grip of Bear's hand around his wrist, the sharp sting of each slap against his flesh. He found himself missing the sensation, craving the intimacy it had brought between them, even if it was born from frustration.
"Did I really push you that far?" Julian muttered under his breath, bitterness creeping into his voice. He knew he had been deliberately provocative, testing Bear's limits, but he hadn't expected the man to react quite so intensely. Now, he felt an unspoken distance between them, one that he didn't know how to bridge.
Bear glanced over at him, a frown creasing his brow. "What?"
"Nothing," Julian said hastily, averting his gaze. He knew he couldn't afford to antagonize Bear any further, especially when they were both so on edge. Instead, he forced himself to focus on the darkened buildings that flashed past them, their shadows stretching out like long, grasping arms.
Julian's stomach growled loudly, as if adding its own commentary to his thoughts. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten anything substantial; it seemed like days ago. Julian rubbed his eyes, feeling the gritty sensation of exhaustion taking hold.
"Hey," Bear said suddenly, his voice breaking through the silence. "You don't look too good."
Julian looked over at him, surprised that Bear had noticed his discomfort—or maybe it was just the obvious noise from his stomach. "I'm just hungry," he admitted. "But I know we have to keep moving, so I'll sleep it off. It's not the first time I've done that."
Bear didn't respond immediately. Then, without warning, Bear changed direction, pulling into the parking lot of a small, unassuming diner. Its neon sign flickered in the darkness, casting a warm glow on the wet pavement.
"Wha—" Julian stammered, confused by the sudden change in plans.
"Look," Bear grumbled, his cheeks flushed with a hint of embarrassment. "This is my favorite diner in this part of town, and you clearly need the calories. You can't survive on air and sarcasm alone." He gave Julian a stern look. "We're in and out, no theatrics. All right?"
Julian blinked in surprise, warmth spreading through his chest at Bear's unexpected show of concern. He didn't know what to say, so he just nodded, gratefully accepting the unspoken truce between them.
As they entered the diner, Julian couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement, like this was some kind of forbidden rendezvous. The air inside the diner was thick with the scent of coffee and grease, and his mouth watered at the prospect of a proper meal.
This moment of peace wouldn't last long, but for now, he would savor the opportunity to be close to Bear without the weight of their situation bearing down on them.
The diner's interior cast an almost sepia-toned glow over the worn Formica tabletops and cracked leather seats. It was a place steeped in nostalgia, with the kind of atmosphere that made secrets seem both thrilling and safe. Bear led Julian to a booth in the back corner, taking his usual spot facing the entrance, always on guard.
"Two coffees," Bear said to the waitress without a moment of thought. His eyes remained locked on their surroundings, sharp and alert for any potential threats.
"Make it three," Julian chimed in, offering her a charming grin. "And I'll have a slice of your finest pie, please."
"That'll be the apple," Bear said, his voice softening just slightly as he finally looked away from the door. There was a pause, and then… "Make that two."
As the waitress left them alone, Julian felt a tingling anticipation curl through his body. It wasn't lost on him that they were sharing something special, even if it was just a midnight snack in a dingy diner. He wanted to keep the mood light, playful almost, but he couldn't shake the heaviness that had settled over him since the incident at the motel.
"Tell me about life before the mafia," Julian said quietly, tentatively breaking the silence between them. "Before you became Angelo's right-hand man."
Bear's brows furrowed, and for a moment, Julian thought he might have crossed another line. But then Bear leaned back against the seat, letting out a slow breath. "I don't know what you want to hear. There isn't much to tell. I was just a regular guy with a dead-end job and a knack for getting into trouble."
Julian smiled, his heart fluttering at the rare glimpse of vulnerability in Bear's voice. "How did you end up with the Toscanos?"
Bear hesitated for a moment, looking down into the dark swirls of his coffee before finally lifting his gaze to meet Julian's eyes. "I didn't have much choice," he admitted. "My childhood wasn't great. My old man was a drunk and a fighter. When he was around, things were... difficult."
"Difficult?" Julian echoed softly, offering an understanding look.
