by K. Sterling
“I’ll be right there.” He huffed and Lane resisted the urge to lean closer and take a deep breath before he left the room.
Draining his beer on the way back to the kitchen and grabbing another was suddenly vital to Lane’s survival. Just don’t get drunk or you might do something you’ll regret tomorrow, Lane warned himself as he leaned on the counter and waited for Aiden. When Aiden emerged from the study he was mopping his face with a towel and his t-shirt had settled into the grooves and hollows of his chest and stomach, clearly outlining defined pecs and a six pack. Lane raised his bottle and took several sips as Aiden crossed the living room.
“Would you like a beer?” Lane asked as Aiden approached the table. Aiden shook his head as he frowned at their plates.
“I don’t drink alcohol.” He mumbled as he stared down at the food. Lane went into the kitchen and grabbed Aiden a glass of water and set it on the table then sat down. He gestured at the chair across from him.
“Sit.” He commanded and Aiden looked stunned as his eyes flicked to Lane’s. He pulled the chair out and sat, too far from the table. Lane gave him a pointed look and Aiden’s lips pulled tight before he scooted the chair closer.
“What is this?” Aiden asked warily and Lane couldn’t help looking at Aiden as if he had two sets of ears.
“It’s chicken, potatoes and a salad.” He explained incredulously. Aiden’s eyes had that panicked look again as they met Lane’s.
“I don’t know what kind of chicken, potatoes and salad these are, Lane.” He sounded mildly terrified and Lane’s brow rose as he stared at Aiden.
“You have a chicken breast with a lemon, garlic and caper sauce, rosemary roasted potatoes and a tomato and cucumber salad dressed with olive oil and lemon.” Lane stated as he watched Aiden’s eyes grow wider.
Aiden looked like Lane was trying to feed him his own body parts. If Lane was honest, he was grateful to Aiden. That moment of overwhelming lust had definitely passed. Lane picked up his fork and knife and tried to keep his eyes on his own plate but was quickly distracted by Aiden. It was like watching a surgeon. Aiden scraped the sauce and the outer layer off of his chicken. Then, he cut the outside edges off each bite before he put it in his mouth. He chewed and swallowed quickly, repeating the whole process methodically until all the acceptable interior parts of his chicken breast were gone. Aiden turned his plate and approached the potatoes. Lane had cubed them, tossed them in olive oil and rosemary and roasted them with sea salt. Aiden cut the sides off of one cube and chewed it. He shook his head faintly and tuned his plate and stared at the salad for a few moments before pulling out a slice of cucumber. He ate it slowly then pushed his plate away and quickly drank his glass of water.
“Thank you for dinner.” Aiden said as he sat back in his chair. Lane’s eyes felt dry, he was sure he hadn’t blinked the entire time Aiden operated on his meal.
“How was it?” He asked perversely. Aiden shrugged.
“I don’t know. Good?” His eyes flicked to Lane’s and they were uncertain before they returned to his plate. Lane’s mouth fell open.
“How do you not know?” He asked loudly. Aiden stared at his plate for several moments before he took a deep breath and looked at Lane. Lane already felt like an ass before Aiden even opened his mouth.
“It’s sort of like my brain and mouth can’t process something if it’s not what I’m used to. I know what a McNugget tastes like. Or french fries. If I eat something I’m not used to, it’s just becomes a mechanical process. It’s like my brain sorts it into the generic category of Food and I can’t really taste it.” Aiden explained and Lane could only blink back at him. “And I don’t like sauces and condiments. Can I take a shower now?” He asked. Lane nodded but his eyes remained on Aiden’s plate as he left.
Lane quickly ate and took their plates to the kitchen. He was wondering if Aiden’s eating habit's could be considered an eating disorder and if it was typical for people with Asperger’s syndrome when he realized that Aiden hadn’t purchased anything to sleep in. Aiden thought he’d be sleeping in a public space and intended to stay in his clothes. Lane thought Aiden might appreciate some pajama pants and it would make Lane feel a little better about how insensitive he behaved during dinner.
Lane went upstairs and grabbed a pair of flannel pajama pants. He turned up the thermostat in the hall and leaned into Aiden’s room. The bedroom door was open but the bathroom door was shut. He was about to toss the pants on the bed when the bathroom door opened and Aiden stepped out with a towel around his waist. Lane’s mouth became dry and his throat closed. Mother. Of. God. Lane leaned against the door frame for support as his eyes traveled over Aiden’s body. Boom. Hard-on. Lane stifled a groan as his entire body tightened. Aiden’s body was perfect. He was sleek, every muscle was defined and despite his bizarre diet, Aiden didn’t have an ounce of fat on him. But it was the tattoos. They’d all been hidden by his street clothes, but most of Aiden’s chest, back and arms were covered in ink. Lane didn’t realize he was so into tattoos… He wanted to trace every single one of them with his tongue. And Aiden had a lot of tattoos. Lane knew he had a weakness for a defined Adonis belt. Heat flooded Lane’s groin as his eyes swept down the V shaped muscle to a peek of dark curls revealed by the towel draped low around Aiden’s hips.
“Lane?” Aiden’s voice was soft and warm but it cut through the fog and Lane forced his eyes up to Aiden’s.
“Yeah?” His voice came out hoarse and deep as he struggled to get his brain to work. Aiden’s brows pulled together as he stared at Lane.
“I’m not very good at responding to nonverbal cues. You look like you want to have sex with me but I’m not sure if you actually intend to or if you’re here for a different reason.” Aiden admitted as he leaned against the wall. Lane took a deep breath and shook his head weakly.
“No. No sex, Aiden.” Lane rasped as he held up the pants. Like a moron. Aiden’s head tilted as he stepped forward and Lane thought he saw a flash of disappointment. “You didn’t buy anything to sleep in and it gets cold. I thought you might want to borrow these.” He watched as Aiden reached for the pants. Aiden's fingers brushed his and Lane suppressed a shiver. Aiden shrugged as he took the pants.
“Thank you, I was just going to sleep in my underwear.” He said as he went back into the bathroom and shut the door.
The sight of the corded muscles of Aiden’s shoulders and his long, lean, tattooed back made hard, harder. Lane shut his eyes and moaned softly as he pictured Aiden stretched out on the bed in his underwear. The door opened and Aiden came out wearing Lane’s pajama pants and things only got worse for Lane. They hung low on Aiden’s hips and Lane’s fingers tingled as the urge to pull the cord and let them fall crashed into him. Lane fisted his hands and forced his feet to take a step back. Aiden’s eyes narrowed as he watched Lane retreat.
“You want to have sex with me but you won’t. Why?” He asked as he took a step toward Lane. “Is it because you’re turned off by my personality and the way I eat?” Aiden’s eyes clung to Lane’s face as he waited. Lane shook his head as he struggled for an explanation. Aiden was partially right but Lane didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
“Not really, though I’m having a hard time making sense of all of that. It’s more a professional issue. I can’t figure out if you’re a coworker or if this is sort of like a witness protection situation. Either way, if you were my coworker, like a partner, you’d be off limit's. If I was assigned to protect you, you would be off limit's. I don’t want to complicate things for Clark’s case either.” Lane explained. Aiden seemed to relax and he nodded.
“That’s too bad. I think it would be really good.” He said as he stretched his arms above his head and yawned. “I’m versatile and I sleep better after I get laid.” Aiden pulled the duvet back and sat on the bed. Lane’s lips pulled into an O and he exhaled loudly.
“What?” He whispered. “Versatile?” Lane asked stupidly as Aiden leaned back on his el
bows and smiled at Lane. He struggled to stay with the conversation and on his feet as his eyes roamed over Aiden’s chest and the small patch of hair between his pecs. They slid down the washboard stomach and lower, over the thin trail of dark hair that drew Lane’s eyes and imagination to the large bulge in the front of Aiden’s pants.
“I switch, I’m open to just about anything.” Aiden smiled and Lane felt heat rising up his neck.
“Oh. Good.” He hated that his voice broke as he stepped into the hall. “Well… I’m going to clean up and go to bed.” Lane cringed and wondered if he was the one with a disorder. Aiden nodded as he watched Lane go.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” He asked. Lane hesitated. He hated that he hesitated.
“Goodnight, Aiden.” He said before he rushed down the stairs and went straight for the fridge. He scowled when his hand shook as he grabbed another beer.
Lane pushed his hand through his hair as he leaned against the fridge and took a long drink, draining half the bottle. He was starting to get the feeling that he had been a bit naive and a little arrogant in assuming that Aiden was innocent and that Lane was the more experienced of the two. Lane shook his head in disbelief as he went to the sink and started rinsing their dishes. He definitely needed to reevaluate the situation and do some research.
Asperger syndrome or ASD effects males more than females. Symptoms and severity of symptoms are not consistent for every person with ASD, common characteristics include:
•Average or above-average intelligence
•Difficulties with high-level language skills such as verbal reasoning, problem solving, making inferences and predictions
•Difficulty empathizing with others
•Problems with understanding another person’s point of view
•Difficulties engaging in social routines such as conversations and ‘small talk’
•Problems with controlling feelings such as anger, depression and anxiety
•A preference for routines and schedules which can result in stress or anxiety if a routine is disrupted
•Specialized fields of interest or hobbies.
Hours later, Lane squeezed his eyes shut, trying to clear some of the burning as he scrubbed the back of his neck and groaned. He shut off his laptop and set it on the bedside table. Lane stretched and yawned as he willed his mind to set aside it’s preoccupation with the gorgeous riddle sleeping across the hall. Lane flopped onto a pillow and hugged it as he tried not to picture Aiden stretched out on the bed, eyeing him like a drowsy tiger. A dangerously sexy tiger. What? That’s the lamest thought you’ve ever had. Lane groaned as he pushed his face into the pillow.
While he’d learned a lot about Asperger’s, Lane didn’t have a clearer understanding of Aiden. From what Lane read, there was a wide range of functionality among people with Asperger’s. Aiden seemed like he was on the very high functioning end but Lane still didn’t have enough of a grasp of Aiden’s emotional maturity. Aiden was just so inconsistent. One moment, he was childlike and irrational. Then, Aiden flirted and teased until Lane was a stuttering idiot. He spoke like a professor one minute, then lounged on the bed like a goddamned porn star the next.
Lane told himself that if he could get through the next day, Sunday, he’d only be alone with Aiden in the evenings during the week. The trial was going well and if Aiden was as good as Cabbot was expecting, the trial should be over by the end of the week. Just keep it in your pants for a day. And a few evenings. You can look all you want, just don’t get carried away. Looking never hurt. You’ve got this. Lane wished he believed himself.
Chapter 4
Lane sipped his coffee as he waited to flip the last batch of pancakes. The doorbell rang and he instinctively looked up toward Aiden’s room. Lane wanted Aiden to sleep in after his remark about how long it had been since he’d slept in a bed. Aiden slept with the door open and Lane peeked in before he went downstairs. Aiden was sprawled out peacefully and he looked so boyish and beautiful, Lane hated the idea of anything disturbing that. He didn’t know who would be at his door at 8:00 on a Sunday morning but they better have a damn good reason. Lane pulled the door open and didn’t bother to stifle his glare.
“Fuck. What do you want, Clark?” Lane gave him a hard, expectant stare.
Clark stared back and waited. Lane sighed and stepped aside, letting Clark pass. Lane shut the door and watched as Clark’s eyes scanned. He’d only been to Lane’s house once before but Lane knew Clark wasn’t admiring the architecture. Lane pushed past Clark and went back to the kitchen before the pancakes burned. He pulled them off and added them to the pile and ignored Clark as he laid strips of bacon in the pan.
“Chief called last night and said that Sharp is staying here.” Clark said as he rested his hands on the counter and leaned. Lane shrugged as he turned to the fridge and pulled out a carafe of orange juice. He set it on the counter and took out two glasses. He could feel Clark’s irritation stretching and clenched his jaw to keep from smiling. “I swear, I didn’t know, Lane.” He said. Lane snorted as he took out a pair of tongs and prodded the bacon.
“And I can trust you about as far as I can throw you.” Lane mumbled. He could feel Clark’s eyes sweeping over his body. Lane came down in a pair of pajama pants and a robe and had removed his robe before he started cooking.
“Did you fuck him?” It came out as an accusatory growl and Lane’s lip curled instinctively in response.
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business. We were never exclusive, were we?” Lane cast him a pointed look and raised a brow. Clark straightened and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Is this because Shelly’s pregnant again? Is that why you backed off?” Clark asked as his eyes slid hungrily down Lane’s chest and stomach. Lane’s stomach twisted in response. Had Clark always been this sleazy? His eyes were hard as they met Lane’s. “So… What? You decided to get back at me by screwing my expert witness?” He said. Lane laughed softly as he turned a piece of bacon.
“You should have thought about that before you pimped me out, Clark.” Lane gave him a knowing grin and Clark frowned.
“I promise you, I didn’t know he was gay. If I had, I wouldn’t have sent you. Why would I throw you at someone else when I’ve spent the last two weeks trying to get you to meet with me?” His eyes were insistent as they searched Lane’s. Lane shrugged.
“Fine. You didn’t know. But we both know you wanted to tie up my weekend. You didn’t want me to have enough time for anyone else.” Lane dared Clark to argue. Clark pushed his hands through his hair and sighed.
“Look, I just thought that if we could talk, everything would be fine but you won’t return my calls and…” Lane cut him off.
“You don’t have any control over me, Clark. And I’m just not interested anymore.” Lane said and Clark shook his head.
“This is just your conscience, because of the baby. If you just gave it a little time, you’d see that it’s not that big of a deal and things were good the way they were.” He argued. Lane couldn’t stop himself from laughing.
“Good? For who?” He asked incredulously as he stared at Clark. He’s in some serious denial, Lane realized. “I don’t need any time. I’m through, Clark.” He promised and he felt a swell of anger when Clark shook his head again.
“Just stop. We can talk about this later.” Clark said as he waved dismissively. “I came to make sure you don’t fuck things up with my star witness. If he doesn’t testify because you pissed him off, Jeffries may not get the death penalty.” Clark held Lane’s gaze.
“I promise you, Lane has been a very generous host.” Both Clark and Lane turned toward the stairs and watched as Aiden lazily tied the strings of his pajama pants and offered Clark a drowsy grin. He was still shirtless and had perfect bed hair. Despite his irritation with Clark, Lane was temporarily mesmerized by the way the muscles of Aiden’s stomach bunched and stretched as he offered Clark his hand.
>
“You must be Clark Cabbot.” He said brightly. Clark’s eyes were wide and his face had a pink tint when he eventually accepted Aiden’s hand.
“You’re Dr. Sharp?” His voice broke and Lane sucked his lips in to keep from laughing. Aiden nodded.
“Yes, but call me Aiden. I don’t like when people call me Dr. Sharp.” He said. Clark blinked stupidly at Aiden.
“Ok.” His eyes flicked to Lane’s and he frowned before he looked back at Aiden. “I just stopped by to make sure you got in all right.” Clark lied. Aiden offered him a wide smile.
“Yup. Had an uneventful trip and Lane has made me feel very welcomed.” Aiden winked jauntily at Clark as he walked past him and came around the counter. He slid behind Lane and looked over his shoulder into the pan. “Looks like he’s going to spoil me.” Aiden teased as his hand closed over Lane’s hip and he rubbed his cheek against Lane’s. Lane saw Clark’s eyes flare but he was more distracted by his now urgent erection and the wall of heat behind him. He cleared his throat.
“Did you sleep well?” Lane asked and tried to look competent as he pulled the bacon from the pan while Aiden was pressed against his back. He heard a soft chuckle and goosebumps spilled down his back.
“I slept like a rock. I was exhausted.” Aiden replied and Lane was sure he could hear Aiden winking at Clark. He felt Aiden’s hand slide around his waist and brush across his stomach. Lane couldn’t stop his eyes from closing but he successfully swallowed the soft moan that tickled his throat. Oh, that’s really nice, Lane decided and opened his eyes. Aiden’s head swung to Lane’s other shoulder and he pressed a quick kiss to Lane’s neck. “You smell really good.” Aiden whispered. Lane felt the words against his ear and heat rolled through him and his lips curved into a shy smile before Aiden stepped past him and reached for the juice. He poured a glass and took a long drink as his eyes darted between Clark and Lane. “Is he joining us for breakfast?” Aiden asked. Lane shook his head.