by K. Sterling
“I don’t see why I have to have a dresser.” He grumbled as he walked into the bedroom and Lane glared at him.
“Don’t start with that again.” Lane warned. “Your days of disposable clothes are over. You need to get over yourself and accept that you have to deal with doing laundry.” He put his arm over Aiden’s shoulders and squeezed reassuringly. Aiden frowned as he eyed the basket of folded clothes on the floor.
“I don’t like how clothes feel after they’ve been washed.” He argued and Lane shook his head.
“You mean clean and soft?” Lane pointed out. Aiden pulled his lips tight and kept from scowling. He wasn’t going to win this if Lane kept being logical and having valid points.
“I like the way new clothes feel. They’re more… solid and they don’t smell right after they’re washed.” Aiden explained. Lane rolled his eyes.
“Shut up.” He bent over and picked up the basket and Aiden pouted as Lane pushed it against his chest. “Put these away.” He ordered and crossed his arms over his chest.
“You know, if you look at it as a matter of economics, buying new clothes makes more sense.” Aiden stated as he looked at the drawers and tried to figure out which one was meant to hold socks. “If you factor in the cost of detergent, fabric softener, water and electricity and the cost of the appliances, it almost breaks even. If you add in what the cost of my labor is worth per hour… I think you’d find that it’s far more cost effective for me to buy new clothes.”Aiden looked over his shoulder and Lane wasn’t buying it. At best, his expression looked dubious.
“You’re unemployed, you’re labor has no value per hour and it costs pennies to do a load of laundry. Your math is ridiculous.” Lane decreed, harshly. Aiden swore under his breath as he set his t-shirts in one of the middle drawers.
“I’m not unemployed. I’m writing a book.” He had a suspicion that he might have sounded defensive. Lane gave him a pointed look.
“Really? Because you haven’t even taken your new MacBook out of the box.” He said as he cocked his head toward said box on the bedside table. Aiden shrugged and tapped his temple.
“I’m making progress in here.” He insisted and Lane snorted.
“That’s going to make editing a bitch for your publisher.” Lane teased. Aiden went ahead and scowled.
“I always do everything in my head. When I’m ready, I’ll sit down and type it all out.” He mumbled as he sniffed at one of his hoodies and recalled one of the arguments he’d prepared. “I read that fabric softener contains animal fat.” Aiden announced and attempted his most disgusted face. Lane’s eyes narrowed and his lips twitched. Aiden was sure he was fighting a smile.
“I buy fat free fabric softener.” Lane stated as his head jerked toward the dresser. “Get on with it.” Lane ordered. Rather like a dictator, Aiden decided.
“What about the dry cleaner? Couldn’t I just send everything out?” It was Aiden's last hope and Lane crushed it when he shook his head.
“Its time to be a grownup and do grownup things, Aiden.” Lane said as he took the empty basket and set it in the closet. Aiden sighed as he dropped onto the bed.
“Why does there have to be so many steps and variables? I don’t understand sorting. Technically, they’re all clothes. And then there’s temperatures and cycles and bleach…” Aiden almost gasped. This had to work, it was brilliant. He stretched back on the bed and reclined on his elbows as he smiled at Lane. Aiden used his Mr. About To Make Lane Beg smile. “What if we worked out a trade?” Aiden made his voice deep and slow as his eyes drifted suggestively down to Lane’s crotch. Lane’s brows rose as he stepped toward the bed. Aiden licked his lips and made his eyes heavy. “I could do that thing…” He let his voice trail off and winked at Lane. He watched as Lane set his knees on the bed and crawled toward him.
“That thing?” Lane asked as he moved over Aiden slowly, letting his lips hover just above Aiden’s body as he made his way to Aiden’s lips. Aiden felt heat wash over him and he started getting hard but he tried to appear relaxed. He was meant to be seducing Lane. Aiden growled softly when Lane’s lips brushed against his.
“That thing when I use my mouth and fingers and make you come without touching your cock.” Aiden murmured against Lane’s lips before he let his tongue glide over them. Lane grinned and nibbled at Aiden’s lower lip.
“Ah. That thing.” He splayed his hand against Aiden’s stomach and it slowly slid down. Aiden didn’t mean to groan or for his hips lift off the bed. He bit his lip as Lane’s hand wrapped around his erection and began to stroke through the thick cotton of his sweat pants. “The problem with trying to use that as leverage is that you’ll do it for me whether I do your laundry or not.” Lane whispered as he tilted his head and let his lips glide along Aiden’s cheek until they reached his ear.
“Maybe I won’t from now on.” Aiden knew it was a terrible bluff and Lane laughed softly. Sweat broke out on Aiden’s brow when Lane’s tongue traced the swirl of his ear.
“Liar.” He breathed and goosebumps happened. Aiden swore silently. “In fact, I think you should do it to me now.” Lane said silkily. Aiden nodded drunkenly.
“I’ll do it now.” He agreed as he slid his hands under the waistband of Lane’s track pants and curved them around Lane’s ass. “Because I want to. Next time, for laundry.” Aiden hoped he didn’t sound as weak and easy as he suspected. Lane shook his head as he gently thrust against Aiden.
“Nope. In fact, I’m pretty sure you’ll do it whenever I ask and do my laundry for me if I tell you to.” Lane promised.
“Whaaat?” Aiden whimpered as he pulled Lane’s groin against his. “You can’t be serious.” He whined. Lane laughed softly against Aiden’s neck before he scraped his skin with his teeth.
“You’re lucky I don’t want my clothes ruined. But maybe later, once you’ve got the hang of it.” Lane decided and Aiden frowned. Things were not going as he planned. As if to prove it, Lane rolled onto his back and pulled Aiden on top of him. He smiled smugly as he stretched and crossed his arms behind his head. “Whenever you’re ready.” Lane announced.
Aiden decided to accept his fate. He would do tedious laundry. It was probably one of those sacrifices people alluded to making when they were in love. And it was blatantly obvious that he was weak and easy. That didn’t mean Aiden had to surrender peacefully.
“I hope you don’t have plans for the weekend.” Aiden said as he pushed Lane’s pants and boxers down his legs. Lane raised a brow and he shook his head.
“No. Why?” He asked suspiciously. Aiden smiled as he slid down Lane’s body.
“You’re not going to be able to walk for a few days.” Aiden warned. He saw Lane’s eyes widen.
“Oh, fuck.” He whispered. Aiden nodded.
“Later.” Aiden agreed. “Much, much later.” He grinned at Lane’s gasp then set about making him scream until he was hoarse.
Epilogue
Three Years Later
Lane felt the familiar rush of anticipation when he turned onto that last stretch of road that ended at his driveway. It never went away. His heart would start to race and his lips would curve when he knew he was about to see Aiden. Especially after a long day. Aiden would be at the table or on the sofa working or reading and he’d put aside whatever he was doing and pull Lane into his arms. Lane had yet to be greeted at the door by a nearly naked Aiden with a cocktail in hand and dinner on the table but Lane wasn’t complaining. They would talk about the day as Lane cooked and Aiden would “help” now and then. Aiden’s purview was generally limited to rinsing vegetables and setting the table. If Lane’s day was particularly long or one of them was just too impatient, dinner would wait and they would take a detour to the bedroom. Or the sofa, if someone was really impatient.
Living with Aiden wasn’t always perfect or fun. They had little arguments, here and there. Usually about housework, sometimes about Lane working too much or Aiden’s habit's when he was actively
writing. Lane didn’t enjoy the weeks when Aiden moved from “mentally writing” to “physically writing”. Aiden hadn’t exaggerated about writing in his head. He would be unfocused and mumble to himself incessantly for a month or so, driving Lane to the brink of murder. Then, Aiden would open his MacBook and Lane would go into Nurse Mode. He had to track how often Aiden was eating and drinking, how much sleep he got and how often he stepped away from the computer. Aiden became surly and completely uncooperative, preferring to eat only when he started to feel sick and sleeping when he became delirious. Thankfully, Aiden only wrote every nine months or so. The rest of the time, he did consulting work from home.
Despite the occasional rough patch, and Lane was grateful to admit that their version of a rough patch was a walk in the park, Lane wouldn’t trade a minute of his life with Aiden. The last three years had been the happiest of his life. He smiled at the McDonald’s bag on the seat next to him. It was their anniversary, so he decided to surprise Aiden. While it was also the three year anniversary of the night that Lane killed Jonathan Burgess, they weren’t celebrating that. Instead, they celebrated that night as the official beginning of their life together. It was the night that Lane and Aiden expressed their love for each other and put Burgess and all the other obstacles to their happiness behind them.
The house was darker than usual when Lane parked the car. He frowned as he got out and walked to the front door. When he opened it, everything was dark except for a soft glow coming from the coffee table by the sofa. Lane squinted and saw that Aiden was waiting on the sofa and candles, a bottle of champagne and glasses were sitting on the coffee table. Two glasses. Lane raised a brow in surprise and held up the McDonald’s bag. Lane saw Aiden smile softly and his body became warm.
“Put it on the table, it can wait.” He said and Lane moved toward the table. “Actually…” Aiden murmured and Lane paused and turned. Aiden’s lips twisted as he considered before he shook his head. “This first, then I’ll eat.” He decided. Lane stayed still for a moment, giving Aiden a moment to reconsider. He nodded. “It can wait.” Aiden said firmly.
Lane shrugged and set the bag and Sprite on the table before he slid out of his coat and hung it on a chair. He took off his holster and went to the sofa. Lane dropped onto the seat next to Aiden and reached for him.
“Thank you for three amazing years.” Lane murmured as he slid his arms around Aiden and brushed his lips against his. Aiden hissed and jerked back and Lane’s brows pulled together in confusion.
“You’re welcome.” Aiden said as his head carefully stretched forward and his lips pecked Lane’s. “You’ve made me happier than I ever thought I could be.” He stated and Lane narrowed his eyes.
“What’s going on?” He asked suspiciously. Aiden grinned as he leaned back.
“Help me take my shirt off.” Aiden commanded. Aiden jumped when Lane reached for the front of his t-shirt. “From the sides, please.” Aiden said. Lane frowned as he started to push Aiden’s shirt up his body, Lane’s hands skimmed Aiden’s ribs and he raised his arms above his head. The shirt was about half way up and Lane saw the reason for Aiden’s discomfort. A shiny black absorbent pad was taped to the center of Aiden’s chest.
“You got a new tattoo?” Lane asked as he pulled the shirt over Aiden’s head.
“Sandra took me.” Aiden explained. “Peel back the tape, carefully.” He said as he pulled Lane’s hand toward the dressing. Lane pulled his lips tight, not liking the idea. Aiden’s skin was always hyper sensitive after a tattoo. “I want you to be the one to do it.” Aiden insisted.
Lane’s fingers fluttered nervously as he reached for the surgical tape. He gently plucked at a corner until he could hook his fingertip under it. Aiden remained calm and Lane slowly pulled until the strip of tape separated from Aiden’s skin. Lane exhaled in relief and Aiden chuckled.
“You’re not diffusing a bomb, Lane. I’ll be fine.” He promised and Lane nodded as he pulled the pad back.
L
A
N
E
The letters were centered, down the middle of Aiden’s chest and were just about the size of Lane’s hand. “I think it’s you. I think you’re there, Lane.” The words from that night echoed in Lane’s head and he remembered Aiden pressing his hand right where his name was now scratched into Aiden’s skin.
“Aiden…” Lane hauled in a deep breath as heat and joy burst within his chest. His eyes blurred as he reached for Aiden’s face. “It’s beautiful.” He whispered the words against Aiden’s lips and he felt them curve beneath his.
“I thought about buying you a ring but I would be more comfortable if we picked that out together.” Aiden explained and Lane’s head pulled back in surprise. Aiden pulled Lane’s lips back to his. “I want us to get married and I thought this was a good substitute as a gesture for a proposal.” His eyes searched Lane’s as he waited. Aiden’s brows slowly rose as Lane kept his face very still. Lane waited until they were almost to Aiden's hair.
“I haven’t heard the proposal yet.” Lane said and Aiden scowled.
“Will you marry me?” He grumbled. Lane rubbed his lip and tried to look very serious. Lane lasted until Aiden pushed at his shoulders.
“Yes, I’ll marry you.” Lane whispered as he leaned forward and claimed Aiden’s lips. Their kiss was slow and clinging and tasted like tears. Lane raised his head and they were both crying. “I love you so much, Aiden. You’ve given me everything.” He carefully pulled Aiden into his arms.
“You’re everything, Lane. There was nothing inside of me. And then, there was you. I love you. But I couldn’t have felt that if it weren’t for you. I was empty and alone and I had nothing to live for until you found me. You gave me everything.” Aiden’s voice broke and Lane laughed softly.
“I wasn’t doing that great either.” Lane admitted as he sat back and grinned at Aiden. He cocked his head at the champagne. “It looks like you were confident that I would accept.” Lane teased. Aiden shrugged as he reached for the bottle.
“You did say that you wanted to marry me three years ago. I couldn’t recall any instances that would indicate you changed your mind. So, I knew it was likely that you would say yes.” Aiden pulled the cork carefully and he squeezed his eyes shut just before it popped. He set the cork on the table and poured two glasses. Lane gave him a pointed look as he took his glass and tapped Aiden’s.
“Are you sure you want to drink that?” Lane asked gently and Aiden smiled.
“I think it’s ok if my judgement is impaired.” He said as he took a careful sip. Aiden shrugged. “It doesn’t taste like anything but it tickles. Its like very carbonated Sprite.” He announced. Lane snorted then paused and looked back at the table.
“Wait. You were going to eat that before you proposed!” Lane shook his head in disbelief. Aiden’s eyes flicked to the ceiling and Lane knew he was trying to figure out why that wouldn’t have been the correct decision. He bit his lip as he looked at Lane uncertainly.
“French fries aren’t as good when they’re cold.” Aiden explained. Lane clapped a hand over his mouth then pointed at Aiden.
“So, for just a moment, you debated whether hot french fries took precedence over proposing to me?” Lane asked incredulously. Aiden’s lips pulled tight and he shook his head.
“Nooo. I did not do that.” He said firmly. “That would not be the right thing to do.” Aiden stated and took a long sip from his glass before he could say something else that would get him in trouble. Lane blinked at Aiden several times before he picked up the champagne and topped off Aiden’s glass.
“You need to drink up. I want your judgement very impaired, you owe me.” He warned and Aiden nodded in agreement.
“I do. I owe you everything.”
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