Page 19 of His to Take

Others — and maybe himself.

But Ajax had seen the raw vulnerability in his eyes as he'd looked up at Ajax.

As Dylan browsed the menu, no doubt looking for the most expensive thing to order, Ajax couldn't help but admire the way the soft lighting cast playful shadows across the kid's sharp features. His gaze lingered on the curve of Dylan's lips, the way they moved when he muttered dish names under his breath.

It was a dangerous game, allowing himself to focus on someone who had every reason to resent him and the world he served.

Ajax feigned interest in the menu, but his thoughts swirled around Dylan like a tempest. The younger man was infuriating, stubborn, and seemingly impervious to reason, yet there was an undeniable vulnerability hidden beneath his bravado.

Ajax's protective instincts surged, roaring with the desire to protect and cherish the bitter and wounded young man before him. He longed to claim Dylan as his own, promising him a life free from fear and hardship.

The memory of Dylan sprawled across his lap not half an hour ago seared itself into Ajax's mind. The way Dylan had begged for Ajax to paint his cheeks red with each firm stroke sent shivers down Ajax's spine. The sight of Dylan's ass, so tantalizingly close, beckoning for use, made it nearly impossible for Ajax to focus on anything else. He clenched his jaw, forcing his thoughts away as he felt his arousal stirring once more.

While Dylan had been getting dressed for dinner, he had slipped into the bathroom, desperate for release. It had taken him barely any strokes at all before he came, his body on fire with the urge to bury his cock in Dylan's ass and pound him until he could think of nothing but Ajax.

Trying to focus on the menu, Ajax found himself unable to concentrate on anything but the memory of his hand around his own throbbing cock, imagining it was Dylan's tight, warm hole instead.

"Hey, what's this?" Dylan suddenly asked, interrupting Ajax's reverie. He pointed at one of the menu items, the text written in an elegant, flowing script. "Pasta alla Norma... what's that?"

"Ah," Ajax replied, his voice rougher than he intended. "You haven't had it before?"

A bitter smile flashed across Dylan's face. "I'm usually at the back of the restaurant, not out the front."

"It's a Sicilian dish. Eggplant, tomatoes, basil, usually served with penne or rigatoni."

Dylan narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "Hmm, maybe that one…"

"Want me to tell you about a few more?"

"Sure, why not? Educate me, wise one," Dylan teased, leaning forward slightly.

Ajax proceeded to describe several other dishes on the menu. As he spoke, Dylan listened attentively, occasionally cracking jokes.

"Hey," Dylan began, "how come you know so much about food?"

Ajax paused, his fingers drumming lightly on the tablecloth. "I own a restaurant, actually," he admitted, a hint of pride in his voice. "Not as slick as this place, though. Just a little place for the family to get good food."

In his mind's eye, Ajax saw the cozy, dimly lit dining room of his place. He remembered the time spent choosing perfect recipes and good staff to manage the daily operations, turning the once run-down location into a thriving spot for his brothers in arms to gather after a long day on the job. Memories filled his mind of late nights spent bonding over food and drink with his fellow Thorne guys.

Dylan's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really? That sounds pretty great."

"Thanks," Ajax replied, his chest swelling with pride. "And what about you? You work in a restaurant, right?"

"Not like you," Dylan scoffed sardonically, rolling his eyes. "I do dishes and take out the trash. A few times I got called in to help with the food, though..."

There was something in his tone, there. Just for a moment, the shield slipped. Ajax honed in on it. "Did you enjoy that?"

For the first time since they'd met, Dylan looked shy, his gaze dropping to the table as he answered. "Yeah, I did, actually. I liked the idea of serving food to people, you know? Not just cleaning up the mess they left behind."

But then the vulnerability vanished, replaced by Dylan's familiar wryness. "Of course, it doesn't matter if I like it or not. It only happened when enough of our piece-of-shit line cooks called out at the last moment, that's all. There's no way—"

He suddenly cut himself off, his mouth snapping shut as his eyes darted away.

Ajax felt an itch of sympathy for the young man across from him. Before he could say anything, though, their food arrived.

The plates were set down before them, each dish arranged beautifully. Ajax nodded with approval. Dylan needed some flesh on his bones, and the dish that Dylan had ordered seemed like a good, hearty portion.

Dylan seemed hesitant, though, picking at his meal with a restraint that seemed unnatural for someone normally so full of bravado.

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