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This was becoming redundant.

Brian walked with dread through his home and into his kitchen to find Sway barefoot, with flannel lounge pants and wearing one of Brian’s Notre Dame t-shirts. It stopped mid-thigh on him, almost swallowing him up. He seemed at ease as he moved around Brian’s kitchen like he’d been cooking there all the time. Sway swayed to the soft instrumental coming from his phone while he flipped the thick pieces of chicken breast in the cast iron skillet. When he finally caught Brian in his peripheral, he didn’t startle, he didn’t look sad, or pitiful… he appeared happy to see him.

“Hey, you woke up,” Sway said softly—as if Brian had simply taken a cat nap—coming up to him and slowly rising on his toes to touch Brian’s lips. “I started dinner. I hope that’s okay?”

Wow. And he can cook. Brian nodded somberly, not knowing how to say what he needed to.

“Brian. I know you’re upset. But, please don’t—” Sway stopped as if he was searching for the right words.

Brian didn’t want Sway tiptoeing on eggshells around him. Despite his fragile state of mind lately, when in Sway’s presence, he wasn’t weak. He wouldn’t break. But, Sway couldn’t be so wary of his feelings either. They had to be able to communicate.

Brian took Sway’s hands from around his neck and held them clasped against his chest. He frowned trying to find the right words, but there was only two that kept resounding in his mind.

‘Thank you.’ He barely moved his mouth, but Sway still understood.

“You don’t have to thank me for that. You know that, right?” Sway’s big brown eyes pleaded with Brian to understand. “I’m… I’m your boyfriend, right?”

Sway said the word ‘boyfriend’ so shyly, it was effective in making a small smile tug at the corners of Brian’s mouth. He nodded. He liked the sound of that. He’d never really had one, if he was being honest. He’d gone into the military at age eighteen, following his big brother. Before that, his father hadn’t allowed them much social time, they had a farm to run and money to scrounge for. Of course, in the military, during DADT, gay relationships weren’t common and even less common when it was repealed. His fast romps in secrecy were exactly that. Quick and noiseless. There were no conversations or getting to know each other. Brian’s particular work in the military caused for all work and no play. Now, at forty-four, he finally had a goddamn boyfriend. And he liked the sound of that.

Sway’s smile reached from ear to ear. Brian still found it refreshingly different that Sway was able to understand his body language so easily. Brian knew no other way to be around him. He was honest and true with Sway, always would be.

Sway confessed, “I haven’t had a boyfriend since freshman year in college. I’m a bit out of practice.”

“We can learn together,” Brian signed.

Sway laughed as if understanding that Brian was admitting his own ignorance in relationships. “Okay then.”

They were silent for a moment. Brian couldn’t resist running his thumb down Sway’s cheek. God, he was so beautiful, and his. Sway leaned forward and rested his forehead against Brian’s sternum, then tilted his head up as if he wanted something. Brian stared down at him, mesmerized by those soulful eyes and supple mouth. Sway lifted his hand and smoothed it over Brian’s hair which was still damp from his shower. If he wasn’t mistaken, it was Sway who was watching him in awe. He didn’t know why, it hadn’t been Sway on the floor like a child, shaking and terrified, unable to breathe.

“Come on, let’s eat before the food gets cold.” Sway took Brian’s hand and to his surprise led him to the table, while he prepared a heaping plate of golden fried chicken, baked potato, and broccoli florets. Glad he’d finally managed to go grocery shopping, he made a mental note to find out what else Sway liked to cook. He’d stock up, immediately.

They ate with little conversation. Both of them too hungry to stop to discuss anything. When Brian finished, Sway was only half done. He liked the wide-eyed stare and chuckle he got before Sway asked if he wanted seconds. “There’s one more breast left.”

Brian stopped Sway from getting up and went and retrieved the last piece himself. He opened his breadbox and pulled out the loaf of white bread. He popped the last piece between two slices, doused it with Texas Pete hot sauce and sat back at the table.

Sway’s amusement was all over his face when he shook his head and laughed in that tender bass tenor of his, “I’m learning so much.”

Brian laughed—a full on stomach muscles twitching, and husky sounds leaving his throat laugh—as Sway stared at his sandwich in disbelief, especially when he started to inhale it like the rest of his food. “This is good.”

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