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“It’s just... I know part of it is that I’m a guy, right? And people reading you as gay if we’re together. But Mark, is that really so terrible?”

Mark had to think for a long second. This wasn’t a simple answer. “No. Of course not. Tovey—Ben—is one of my best friends. I’ve got other out friends too. But...it’s just not...”

“It’s not what you expected for yourself?” Isaiah’s voice was gentle, but Mark could hear the hurt there too.

“Honestly, I expected to be alone. I tried dating. It didn’t work. I wasn’t going to keep trying something that made me miserable. I felt...broken. Like I was missing something that all other men had. Like I was on the outside of the best inside secret ever.”

“Aww. That sucks.” Isaiah’s face softened. “You’re not broken—you’re pretty amazing exactly as you are.”

“Thanks.” Mark could feel his skin heating. “I still worry that maybe...maybe I’m not cut out for a relationship.”

“Which is a shame because you’re such a romantic guy.” Isaiah laughed, then quickly added, “No sarcasm there. You are.”

“I guess.” Mark shrugged and took a sip of his beer. “I do like being...affectionate. A lot more than I thought I did, actually. And I like having someone around. But the process of getting there seemed so hard and uncertain before.”

“But if you don’t have to be alone, don’t you think you deserve that? With whatever gender?”

“You know, I really wish you’d skipped the psych classes,” Mark grumbled. “I get what you’re saying, but I keep thinking about how my dad would have hated me with another guy, how my uncle will pitch a shit fit, how he could hold up the will stuff, how it could affect my career, how the other guys see me... Yeah. I’m struggling.” He hated admitting that.

“Your uncle could keep your money from you?” Isaiah frowned.

“He could make it not easy. I’m entitled to certain things because of my parents, but he could certainly make it complicated.” And right now, Mark’s priority had to be the kids, not what his uncle would think of his personal life. But he couldn’t deny that there was a lot of money at stake too—and not just for him. He wasn’t sure he wanted to risk his uncle taking out his ire on the kids. And a small part of him, the part of his heart that still hadn’t recovered from the loss of his parents, also wasn’t looking forward to pissing off one of his last few relatives.

“Fuck.”

“It’s just a lot to think about.” Mark squeezed his hand again. “Would it help if I said I do want to get there for you? I’m working on my issues. I wish it were as easy as getting a rainbow flag T-shirt and being done with it, but my head is still a jumbled mess.”

“Well, I like you, mess and all. And the T-shirt better have a sparkly unicorn on it.” Isaiah grinned at him. “I didn’t know about the money part. I’ll work on my patience.”

The grim set to his jaw, however, said that patience wasn’t infinite, and Mark’s gut wobbled. He couldn’t lose this man. “I won’t make you wait forever,” he promised.

“Good. I better rinse off. You want to shower with me?” Isaiah offered. His eyes were wary, like he was expecting Mark to turn him down, but Mark nodded, not wanting to disappoint him yet again. He stripped off his clothes while Isaiah got out of the tub and headed for the large shower. Isaiah had the water blissfully steamy, and he groaned as he got under the spray.

Rinsing off the soap bubbles that clung to his skin, Isaiah turned this way and that. It was fun, watching him. “You’re cute.”

“So are you.” Isaiah grabbed the soap. “Can I wash you? Would that be okay? Not a s—”

“Ike. I’ll tell you when something’s not okay. I trust you.” Mark tugged him closer. He meant it. Isaiah had never once pressured him for more than Mark wanted to give, had always been respectful of Mark’s limits. Isaiah made him feel safer than anyone else ever had. More connected. “And sometimes, I like turning you on. I like making you happy. It can’t all be about me and what I need—if you’d enjoy washing me, go for it.”

“You do make me happy.” Isaiah gave him a soft kiss on the mouth. “And yeah, Muscles, I’d like touching you.”

To that end, Isaiah soaped him up slowly. Chest. Back. Arms. It was kind of like a massage and nice, almost relaxing.

“Feels good,” he groaned.

“Rinse,” Isaiah commanded.

“Thought I was supposed to be the one giving orders.” Mark gave him a pointed look as he stepped under the spray, washing away the soap.

“Oh, you got requests?” Isaiah’s eyes sparkled.

“Maybe.” Mark winked at him, then turned off the water. Thinking about how to best drive Isaiah nuts was fun. Tossing Isaiah a towel, he quickly dried himself. As Isaiah finished toweling off, Mark pulled him close. “Kiss me.”

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