Paladin, page 3
Ever relaxed. That was easy. He moved around the table, sitting on the floor, the scent of whatever was in the bowl hitting him like a brick. It was a soup of some kind with long, thin noodles piled high in the middle. He grabbed the fork and dug in, moaning when the food hit his tongue. He tried not to rush it. He really did. But it tasted so good and the broth felt nice on his throat.
When his bowl was empty, he glanced up to find Arsen watching him, a sort of half-smile on his lips. Ever flushed. Arsen pushed his bowl towards him. “Here.”
Ever frowned and shook his head, pointing at Arsen.
Arsen pushed the bowl again. “I’m not hungry. This is for you. Eat it. You’ll sleep better.” Ever frowned, hesitating. “Eat,” Arsen said again, this time with more force.
Ever took the bowl, devouring it with the same vigor he had the first, only looking up once he’d done what he was told.
Arsen smiled. “Good boy.”
Ever blinked at him, something quivering deep inside at the praise.
Arsen stood, holding out his hand. Ever stared at it until he opened and shut it, indicating that he expected him to take it. Ever complied. Was he taking him to his bed?
His heart started to hammer until he was light-headed. He’d do it if that was what Arsen wanted. But he was so tired.
Arsen led him down a short hallway to two doors, pointing to the one on the left. “This is my room. If you need me, come get me. Okay?”
Ever shifted his weight on the balls of his feet, then nodded. Arsen opened the door to the right and gently nudged Ever inside. He stopped short, looking around.
It was brightly colored just like Arsen. Even though there were no lamps, the room was illuminated. There were neon pink lights that surrounded the perimeter of the ceiling and blue lights that trailed along the baseboards. On a desk were three screens, each with pictures made up of the same pink and blue neon and a tower and keyboard that emanated the same pulsing colors.
“I can turn the lights out,” Arsen said.
Ever shook his head. “Pretty,’ he said before he could stop himself.
Arsen smiled, looking almost proud, then pointed to a large bed in the corner, something far bigger than Ever had ever slept on before. “You can sleep here, okay? You can sleep as long as you want.” Ever waited for the catch, waited for whatever it was Arsen would demand in return, but he just gave him a little wave. “I’m right here if you need me.”
Then Ever was alone.
He was used to being alone. He’d been that way most of his life, trapped alone in confined spaces. But when Arsen closed the door, Ever’s heart dropped, like he’d taken all the light with him. Which was stupid, because the whole room was filled with light. He sat on the bed, bouncing on the mattress a bit. It was soft. But more importantly, it was clean.
He threw back the blankets and dove into the pillows, burying his face in them and inhaling deeply, his exhaustion bleeding from every pore of his body. Reading three people had been exhausting, especially new people. He hadn’t learned their tells, hadn’t learned how to discern whether they were there to harm him or help him.
He closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to overtake him. But it didn’t. As the minutes ticked by, an uneasiness grew within him. The room was too big. Even though he could see every corner, he still couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched. He tried to pull the covers over his head, but that somehow just made it worse. He felt…exposed. He tried to hide his face, even contemplating sliding under the bed.
But there was no room.
He bit his lower lip, his panic ratcheting higher with each second until he was on his feet without much rational thought, then he was standing outside Arsen’s door. He raised his hand to knock, but then hesitated. What if he woke him up?
He didn’t know how long he stood there, hand raised, worrying about what was worse—being alone or making Arsen angry enough to punish him. At least he knew what punishments felt like. He was willing to risk it if it meant this panic clawing inside him would release its hold on his lungs.
He turned the knob instead, peeking inside when the door opened. Ever’s lips parted at the sight before him. Arsen was sprawled across his bed in a pair of black pants that sat low on his hips and nothing else. He had one hand behind his head and the other flung to the side, his expression peaceful.
Ever snuck closer, watching as Arsen’s chest rose and fell steadily. He was…pretty. Colorful. Luminous. He had several tattoos that Ever didn’t understand, but the one he couldn’t stop staring at was the print circling his nipple. It said PRESS START.
He didn’t know what that meant either, but Ever itched to press it anyway. Just to know. Arsen’s large body took up most of the bed, but there was a tiny sliver of space between him and the wall. Ever hesitated for only a second before climbing onto the bed as carefully as possible, then working himself into the tight space, keeping his body turned towards Arsen…just in case.
He half-expected Arsen to wake immediately, but he didn’t. Instead, he rolled onto his side until he and Ever were almost nose to nose. It was so much easier to see how pretty he was up close. He had long lashes that cast shadows on his cheeks. He had a mole on his left ear. A lock of blue hair fell over one thick, dark brow.
Ever reached up and pushed it back, smiling when it fell defiantly back over his eye. He did it again, watching it rebound once more. Then again.
He was so engrossed in his little game, he didn’t even notice the change in Arsen’s breathing, not until he opened his eyes and looked at Ever sleepily.
“Hi,” he said, voice sleep-soaked.
“Hi,” Ever whispered, swallowing the lump of sand in his throat.
Arsen frowned. “Are you okay?”
Ever licked his lower lip. “The room is too big.”
“What?”
Frustration leached into Ever. He hated talking. “The room is too big.”
“Oh,” Arsen said, giving him a soft smile that did things to Ever’s stomach. “Is it better here? With me?”
Ever hesitated. What if he rejected him? What if he wanted more than sleep? Ever would give it to him if it meant not having to go back to that big empty bed in that big empty room. He nodded.
Arsen lifted a hand and cupped Ever’s cheek. The skin there was rough, like sandpaper. “You’re older than I thought. You’re just small. How old are you, little one?”
Once more, Ever licked his lower lip, leaning close until his forehead all but touched Arsen’s. “Nineteen. I’m old enough.”
Arsen frowned. “Old enough?”
Ever’s blood rushed in his ears. In all the times he’d been with someone, he’d never initiated it. He might as well get it over with. It wouldn’t be so bad with him. Arsen smelled good and he was pretty and warm. He lifted a hand and placed it on Arsen’s bare chest, feeling the shuddering breath he took when their skin connected. He made eye contact, sliding his palm down towards Arsen’s belly button.
He was almost to that trail of hair when Arsen snagged his wrist, yanking him back to reality. “Hey. You…you don’t have to do that.”
Ever flushed, then gave him a smile. “I don’t mind.”
Arsen frowned, then sighed. He looked…sad. Disappointed even. “I don’t…I don’t want you to do that.”
Heat flooded Ever’s face, tears springing to his eyes. “Oh.”
He started to scramble off the bed, but Arsen still held his wrist. “Stop.”
Ever froze.
“Just lie down and go to sleep. Okay? You need to rest. You just need some sleep. You have to be exhausted.”
He was. He was so tired. He was tired in his bones, in his soul. But he couldn’t look at him. Ever turned to face the wall, close enough to smell the paint had it been fresh, hot tears sliding down his cheeks.
He hated this. He hated not knowing the rules. He was so stupid. It had never even occurred to him that Arsen didn’t want him. Of course, he didn’t. He met him covered in blood and dirt and smelling like a sewer. He was lucky he was even letting Ever lie there next to him.
He sucked in a breath as Arsen’s heavy arm settled over him, then his body curled around him, his chest against Ever’s back, his hips pressing to Ever’s ass, his knees pressed to the back of Ever’s. The warmth of his skin bled through the fabric of Ever’s hoodie and he could feel his breath against his neck and ear.
Arsen’s large hand settled on Ever’s belly over the fabric. “Just…sleep. Okay?”
Ever closed his eyes, testing the weight of Arsen’s arm, the feel of him around him. Was it too much? Not enough? It must have been just right somehow because he was fading into unconsciousness before he could formulate any kind of decision on the matter.
Arsen lay awake long after Ever’s breathing had evened out. He should have released him then. It was the right thing to do. But Arsen couldn’t bring himself to let go. Ever was warm and smelled like Arsen’s soap and he made the cutest sounds while he slept. Besides, he had wanted Arsen to hold him.
Ever—who had absolutely no reason to trust Arsen—had come to him for comfort, had come to him because he was afraid. Arsen knew what it was like to be afraid. He’d spent many nights listening to his father rage. Bottles crashing, glasses breaking, his mother’s screaming. It had been years but it was still all fresh in his mind. His mother smiling with blood on her face while she told him it was all okay.
“Go to sleep, zaichik. It’s just a bad dream.”
Arsen swallowed the lump in his throat. The violence was never forgotten, never far from his memories. His age had only protected him for so long, then his father had turned the violence towards him. To make him stronger. Tougher. A real man. Real men didn’t cry. Real men didn’t whine. Real men took their beatings in silence. Crying only prolonged the inevitable.
Arsen squeezed Ever a little tighter. Maybe he was the one who needed Ever. He’d told himself a million times he could never be comfortable with someone sleeping in his bed, but Ever was right there, taking up space in a way Arsen swore he’d hate. But he didn’t. Why?
Maybe because Ever had trusted him? Arsen wanted to be the one to protect him, comfort him. He’d found him. Shouldn’t he take responsibility? Wasn’t that the right thing to do? How could Arsen be sure someone else wouldn’t take advantage of Ever? He’d come to Arsen looking for comfort, but he’d been prepared to trade that comfort for sex. What if someone else said yes?
Ever had assumed Arsen would say yes and was heartbroken when he’d refused him. Why? Was Arsen simply the lesser of two evils in his eyes? That thought made Arsen’s heart ache. Had Ever known any kind of affection that wasn’t transactional? Had he been forced to give a piece of his soul away every time someone showed him any kindness? Had anybody even bothered to try?
He looked down at the boy, currently sleeping with his cheek smooshed against Arsen’s bicep, full lips parted as he softly snored like a puppy. Ever was sweet-faced—that was the only way Arsen could describe him. In the dim lighting, his hair looked almost black, but in the light, it was a dark chocolate brown, just like his wide doe eyes. He had a heart-shaped face and high cheekbones but enough baby fat to make him seem vulnerable.
But Ever wasn’t just cute, he was attractive. Arsen had been shocked when he’d seen him standing barefoot in his apartment, damp hair hanging in his eyes and a canary yellow sweatshirt making his golden skin glow. He’d been everything Arsen hadn’t known he’d wanted. But he had wanted.
That was why he was still thinking about the way Ever looked up at him from beneath his lashes and the way his fingertips had trailed over his bare skin an hour later. Arsen never would have taken advantage like that, but he’d known Ever three hours and he was already tempting his resolve, his morals. He was a good person, damn it.
Ever was dangerous.
Ever squirmed a little closer, as if he could hear Arsen’s internal struggle and wanted to make it just a little more difficult. How could Arsen ignore how well Ever fit? How he seemed to be the perfect small spoon to Arsen’s bigger one? How his head tucked perfectly under Arsen’s chin? How his ass pressed directly against Arsen’s crotch…
Fuck.
Levi would call Ever pocket-sized, might even joke about hobbits or elves. But Ever was a fairy, something small and dainty and tempting, like in his game, Paladin. Arsen had fallen for the game the moment he’d played it. Knights and magic and round tables. Kings and wizards and mythological creatures. Maybe Ever was one of those creatures. Not a domovoi—they were ugly, and there was nothing ugly about Ever. Another tiny creature maybe? Mal'chik-s-pal'chik maybe. He was tiny like that.
“You are about the size of my finger,” he murmured.
Ever rolled in his arms, a deep sigh escaping his chest. Arsen just stared. How could anybody hurt someone so sweet? So fragile? Arsen’s father had beat the hell out of him and his mother, but Arsen had been sturdy, strong. He had to be. His father never allowed for weakness. Even now. Even from behind bars.
No crying. No begging. Arsen had learned to mask his pain. But Ever…he looked at people like a dog who’d been kicked too many times. Suspicious but…hopeful. Like he just wanted one person to not let him down.
Arsen closed his eyes. Maybe he was just projecting. It was clear he wasn’t going to sleep. Not now. He might as well get up and get dressed. But he didn’t move. Minutes ticked by, but still he lay there, listening to Ever breathe, feeling his breath against his skin.
What if Arsen got up and it woke him? He needed sleep. Those wounds needed rest to heal properly. What if Ever woke up alone and panicked again? He hadn’t lasted long alone in Arsen’s old bedroom. Even with the lights on.
“The room is too big.”
That was what he’d said. But size was relative. When the room had been Arsen’s—when he’d shared the apartment with Jericho’s brother, Felix—Arsen had been grateful for a room with a door, but it had felt claustrophobic at times. There was barely enough room for his computer and the desk, which worked well when he was online with his friends, but not so much when he just wanted to hang out.
When the room belonged to Felix and Jericho had the master, Felix had often complained about it being ‘the size of a shoebox,’ which seemed like a major exaggeration to Arsen, but that was just Felix. Dramatic, over-the-top, excessive. That was why he was famous now. That was why everybody loved him and wanted to be his friend. Felix would love Ever.
Arsen stared down at Ever, the ache to touch him coming on so strongly and so quickly he didn’t even have time to fight it. He lightly ran his finger up the bridge of his pert nose, once then twice, then caressed the spot between his perfectly straight brows. His skin was soft, his bunny teeth just a little too big for his mouth, leaving them settled lightly on his full lower lip.
Ever’s eyelids fluttered, then opened, slowly blinking himself awake. Shit. Ever’s hand—trapped between their bodies—curled against Arsen’s bare chest, making him shiver, his cock taking notice of the barely-there touch. He needed to calm down before he scared him.
But his body just wasn’t getting the memo that Ever was friend, not food. Because even with chapped lips and puffy eyes, Ever looked good enough to eat. And for the first time in a long time, Arsen was starving.
Almost like he could read his thoughts, Ever raised his hand and brushed his fingertips over Arsen’s hair that hung in his eyes. He closed his eyes, praying for some modicum of self-control. Maybe if he just didn’t look at him…
Ever’s index finger ran along the bridge of Arsen’s nose, mimicking Arsen’s earlier movements. No. No. This was definitely not better. It was somehow much worse. He needed to get out of bed and put some distance between them before one of them did something they couldn’t take back.
They were strangers. Ever only touched him for comfort, as a way to anchor himself, not because he wanted anything physical. Arsen couldn’t ruin that trust.
“I have to go downstairs to the garage. Can you stay here and rest?” Ever’s face morphed from fear to confusion to something akin to a sulk, which did nothing to strengthen Arsen’s resolve to leave the warmth of his bed. “Don’t give me that look, little one. I’ll be right downstairs. You can come find me when you wake up and then I’ll get you some food.”
Ever’s scowl disappeared immediately, replaced with that same placid look from last night. That one that told Arsen he was either dissociating or masking his true feelings for Arsen’s benefit. Shit. He needed to choose his words carefully. Ever had spent most of his life following orders. He was clearly still trying to do so.
How long had he lived like that? How long had that woman tortured him? The scars on his back and throat indicated months. The children’s book he’d shown Arsen indicated years. Had she been the only one to…own him? The idea of multiple people abusing Ever over the years left Arsen with a rage brewing deep within. It made him want to hurt something, hurt someone. Once more, he wished he could revive that woman and kill her again. She deserved something far worse than a simple bullet in the head.
But none of that would help Ever. And Arsen wasn’t qualified to help this level of trauma. He needed an adult. A real adult. An adultier adult. One who understood taxes and feelings. But he didn’t have one of those handy right now. All he could do was follow Jericho’s advice.
Adapt. Improvise. Overcome.
He gave Ever his brightest smile. “I change my mind. You can look at me however you want. If you’re mad, be mad. If you’re sad, be sad. If you’re happy, be happy. Okay?” He made the okay symbol with his fingers.
Ever studied his face and then his hand, like he wasn’t sure if he was in trouble or not.
“I’ll be right downstairs,” he said again, this time extracting himself from Ever’s limbs, heart tripping as he stared up at Arsen with those big Bambi eyes. “Sleep.”
Ever immediately complied, closing his eyes and rolling onto his belly, burying his face in Arsen’s pillow. Damn it, another order. He vowed to get better. But it was difficult to go against his nature. He spent most of his day herding a bunch of twenty-somethings high on caffeine and short on attention. That required being direct. And loud. And giving concise instructions. The boys were efficient, but they were also absent-minded and stubborn.
When his bowl was empty, he glanced up to find Arsen watching him, a sort of half-smile on his lips. Ever flushed. Arsen pushed his bowl towards him. “Here.”
Ever frowned and shook his head, pointing at Arsen.
Arsen pushed the bowl again. “I’m not hungry. This is for you. Eat it. You’ll sleep better.” Ever frowned, hesitating. “Eat,” Arsen said again, this time with more force.
Ever took the bowl, devouring it with the same vigor he had the first, only looking up once he’d done what he was told.
Arsen smiled. “Good boy.”
Ever blinked at him, something quivering deep inside at the praise.
Arsen stood, holding out his hand. Ever stared at it until he opened and shut it, indicating that he expected him to take it. Ever complied. Was he taking him to his bed?
His heart started to hammer until he was light-headed. He’d do it if that was what Arsen wanted. But he was so tired.
Arsen led him down a short hallway to two doors, pointing to the one on the left. “This is my room. If you need me, come get me. Okay?”
Ever shifted his weight on the balls of his feet, then nodded. Arsen opened the door to the right and gently nudged Ever inside. He stopped short, looking around.
It was brightly colored just like Arsen. Even though there were no lamps, the room was illuminated. There were neon pink lights that surrounded the perimeter of the ceiling and blue lights that trailed along the baseboards. On a desk were three screens, each with pictures made up of the same pink and blue neon and a tower and keyboard that emanated the same pulsing colors.
“I can turn the lights out,” Arsen said.
Ever shook his head. “Pretty,’ he said before he could stop himself.
Arsen smiled, looking almost proud, then pointed to a large bed in the corner, something far bigger than Ever had ever slept on before. “You can sleep here, okay? You can sleep as long as you want.” Ever waited for the catch, waited for whatever it was Arsen would demand in return, but he just gave him a little wave. “I’m right here if you need me.”
Then Ever was alone.
He was used to being alone. He’d been that way most of his life, trapped alone in confined spaces. But when Arsen closed the door, Ever’s heart dropped, like he’d taken all the light with him. Which was stupid, because the whole room was filled with light. He sat on the bed, bouncing on the mattress a bit. It was soft. But more importantly, it was clean.
He threw back the blankets and dove into the pillows, burying his face in them and inhaling deeply, his exhaustion bleeding from every pore of his body. Reading three people had been exhausting, especially new people. He hadn’t learned their tells, hadn’t learned how to discern whether they were there to harm him or help him.
He closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to overtake him. But it didn’t. As the minutes ticked by, an uneasiness grew within him. The room was too big. Even though he could see every corner, he still couldn’t shake the feeling he was being watched. He tried to pull the covers over his head, but that somehow just made it worse. He felt…exposed. He tried to hide his face, even contemplating sliding under the bed.
But there was no room.
He bit his lower lip, his panic ratcheting higher with each second until he was on his feet without much rational thought, then he was standing outside Arsen’s door. He raised his hand to knock, but then hesitated. What if he woke him up?
He didn’t know how long he stood there, hand raised, worrying about what was worse—being alone or making Arsen angry enough to punish him. At least he knew what punishments felt like. He was willing to risk it if it meant this panic clawing inside him would release its hold on his lungs.
He turned the knob instead, peeking inside when the door opened. Ever’s lips parted at the sight before him. Arsen was sprawled across his bed in a pair of black pants that sat low on his hips and nothing else. He had one hand behind his head and the other flung to the side, his expression peaceful.
Ever snuck closer, watching as Arsen’s chest rose and fell steadily. He was…pretty. Colorful. Luminous. He had several tattoos that Ever didn’t understand, but the one he couldn’t stop staring at was the print circling his nipple. It said PRESS START.
He didn’t know what that meant either, but Ever itched to press it anyway. Just to know. Arsen’s large body took up most of the bed, but there was a tiny sliver of space between him and the wall. Ever hesitated for only a second before climbing onto the bed as carefully as possible, then working himself into the tight space, keeping his body turned towards Arsen…just in case.
He half-expected Arsen to wake immediately, but he didn’t. Instead, he rolled onto his side until he and Ever were almost nose to nose. It was so much easier to see how pretty he was up close. He had long lashes that cast shadows on his cheeks. He had a mole on his left ear. A lock of blue hair fell over one thick, dark brow.
Ever reached up and pushed it back, smiling when it fell defiantly back over his eye. He did it again, watching it rebound once more. Then again.
He was so engrossed in his little game, he didn’t even notice the change in Arsen’s breathing, not until he opened his eyes and looked at Ever sleepily.
“Hi,” he said, voice sleep-soaked.
“Hi,” Ever whispered, swallowing the lump of sand in his throat.
Arsen frowned. “Are you okay?”
Ever licked his lower lip. “The room is too big.”
“What?”
Frustration leached into Ever. He hated talking. “The room is too big.”
“Oh,” Arsen said, giving him a soft smile that did things to Ever’s stomach. “Is it better here? With me?”
Ever hesitated. What if he rejected him? What if he wanted more than sleep? Ever would give it to him if it meant not having to go back to that big empty bed in that big empty room. He nodded.
Arsen lifted a hand and cupped Ever’s cheek. The skin there was rough, like sandpaper. “You’re older than I thought. You’re just small. How old are you, little one?”
Once more, Ever licked his lower lip, leaning close until his forehead all but touched Arsen’s. “Nineteen. I’m old enough.”
Arsen frowned. “Old enough?”
Ever’s blood rushed in his ears. In all the times he’d been with someone, he’d never initiated it. He might as well get it over with. It wouldn’t be so bad with him. Arsen smelled good and he was pretty and warm. He lifted a hand and placed it on Arsen’s bare chest, feeling the shuddering breath he took when their skin connected. He made eye contact, sliding his palm down towards Arsen’s belly button.
He was almost to that trail of hair when Arsen snagged his wrist, yanking him back to reality. “Hey. You…you don’t have to do that.”
Ever flushed, then gave him a smile. “I don’t mind.”
Arsen frowned, then sighed. He looked…sad. Disappointed even. “I don’t…I don’t want you to do that.”
Heat flooded Ever’s face, tears springing to his eyes. “Oh.”
He started to scramble off the bed, but Arsen still held his wrist. “Stop.”
Ever froze.
“Just lie down and go to sleep. Okay? You need to rest. You just need some sleep. You have to be exhausted.”
He was. He was so tired. He was tired in his bones, in his soul. But he couldn’t look at him. Ever turned to face the wall, close enough to smell the paint had it been fresh, hot tears sliding down his cheeks.
He hated this. He hated not knowing the rules. He was so stupid. It had never even occurred to him that Arsen didn’t want him. Of course, he didn’t. He met him covered in blood and dirt and smelling like a sewer. He was lucky he was even letting Ever lie there next to him.
He sucked in a breath as Arsen’s heavy arm settled over him, then his body curled around him, his chest against Ever’s back, his hips pressing to Ever’s ass, his knees pressed to the back of Ever’s. The warmth of his skin bled through the fabric of Ever’s hoodie and he could feel his breath against his neck and ear.
Arsen’s large hand settled on Ever’s belly over the fabric. “Just…sleep. Okay?”
Ever closed his eyes, testing the weight of Arsen’s arm, the feel of him around him. Was it too much? Not enough? It must have been just right somehow because he was fading into unconsciousness before he could formulate any kind of decision on the matter.
Arsen lay awake long after Ever’s breathing had evened out. He should have released him then. It was the right thing to do. But Arsen couldn’t bring himself to let go. Ever was warm and smelled like Arsen’s soap and he made the cutest sounds while he slept. Besides, he had wanted Arsen to hold him.
Ever—who had absolutely no reason to trust Arsen—had come to him for comfort, had come to him because he was afraid. Arsen knew what it was like to be afraid. He’d spent many nights listening to his father rage. Bottles crashing, glasses breaking, his mother’s screaming. It had been years but it was still all fresh in his mind. His mother smiling with blood on her face while she told him it was all okay.
“Go to sleep, zaichik. It’s just a bad dream.”
Arsen swallowed the lump in his throat. The violence was never forgotten, never far from his memories. His age had only protected him for so long, then his father had turned the violence towards him. To make him stronger. Tougher. A real man. Real men didn’t cry. Real men didn’t whine. Real men took their beatings in silence. Crying only prolonged the inevitable.
Arsen squeezed Ever a little tighter. Maybe he was the one who needed Ever. He’d told himself a million times he could never be comfortable with someone sleeping in his bed, but Ever was right there, taking up space in a way Arsen swore he’d hate. But he didn’t. Why?
Maybe because Ever had trusted him? Arsen wanted to be the one to protect him, comfort him. He’d found him. Shouldn’t he take responsibility? Wasn’t that the right thing to do? How could Arsen be sure someone else wouldn’t take advantage of Ever? He’d come to Arsen looking for comfort, but he’d been prepared to trade that comfort for sex. What if someone else said yes?
Ever had assumed Arsen would say yes and was heartbroken when he’d refused him. Why? Was Arsen simply the lesser of two evils in his eyes? That thought made Arsen’s heart ache. Had Ever known any kind of affection that wasn’t transactional? Had he been forced to give a piece of his soul away every time someone showed him any kindness? Had anybody even bothered to try?
He looked down at the boy, currently sleeping with his cheek smooshed against Arsen’s bicep, full lips parted as he softly snored like a puppy. Ever was sweet-faced—that was the only way Arsen could describe him. In the dim lighting, his hair looked almost black, but in the light, it was a dark chocolate brown, just like his wide doe eyes. He had a heart-shaped face and high cheekbones but enough baby fat to make him seem vulnerable.
But Ever wasn’t just cute, he was attractive. Arsen had been shocked when he’d seen him standing barefoot in his apartment, damp hair hanging in his eyes and a canary yellow sweatshirt making his golden skin glow. He’d been everything Arsen hadn’t known he’d wanted. But he had wanted.
That was why he was still thinking about the way Ever looked up at him from beneath his lashes and the way his fingertips had trailed over his bare skin an hour later. Arsen never would have taken advantage like that, but he’d known Ever three hours and he was already tempting his resolve, his morals. He was a good person, damn it.
Ever was dangerous.
Ever squirmed a little closer, as if he could hear Arsen’s internal struggle and wanted to make it just a little more difficult. How could Arsen ignore how well Ever fit? How he seemed to be the perfect small spoon to Arsen’s bigger one? How his head tucked perfectly under Arsen’s chin? How his ass pressed directly against Arsen’s crotch…
Fuck.
Levi would call Ever pocket-sized, might even joke about hobbits or elves. But Ever was a fairy, something small and dainty and tempting, like in his game, Paladin. Arsen had fallen for the game the moment he’d played it. Knights and magic and round tables. Kings and wizards and mythological creatures. Maybe Ever was one of those creatures. Not a domovoi—they were ugly, and there was nothing ugly about Ever. Another tiny creature maybe? Mal'chik-s-pal'chik maybe. He was tiny like that.
“You are about the size of my finger,” he murmured.
Ever rolled in his arms, a deep sigh escaping his chest. Arsen just stared. How could anybody hurt someone so sweet? So fragile? Arsen’s father had beat the hell out of him and his mother, but Arsen had been sturdy, strong. He had to be. His father never allowed for weakness. Even now. Even from behind bars.
No crying. No begging. Arsen had learned to mask his pain. But Ever…he looked at people like a dog who’d been kicked too many times. Suspicious but…hopeful. Like he just wanted one person to not let him down.
Arsen closed his eyes. Maybe he was just projecting. It was clear he wasn’t going to sleep. Not now. He might as well get up and get dressed. But he didn’t move. Minutes ticked by, but still he lay there, listening to Ever breathe, feeling his breath against his skin.
What if Arsen got up and it woke him? He needed sleep. Those wounds needed rest to heal properly. What if Ever woke up alone and panicked again? He hadn’t lasted long alone in Arsen’s old bedroom. Even with the lights on.
“The room is too big.”
That was what he’d said. But size was relative. When the room had been Arsen’s—when he’d shared the apartment with Jericho’s brother, Felix—Arsen had been grateful for a room with a door, but it had felt claustrophobic at times. There was barely enough room for his computer and the desk, which worked well when he was online with his friends, but not so much when he just wanted to hang out.
When the room belonged to Felix and Jericho had the master, Felix had often complained about it being ‘the size of a shoebox,’ which seemed like a major exaggeration to Arsen, but that was just Felix. Dramatic, over-the-top, excessive. That was why he was famous now. That was why everybody loved him and wanted to be his friend. Felix would love Ever.
Arsen stared down at Ever, the ache to touch him coming on so strongly and so quickly he didn’t even have time to fight it. He lightly ran his finger up the bridge of his pert nose, once then twice, then caressed the spot between his perfectly straight brows. His skin was soft, his bunny teeth just a little too big for his mouth, leaving them settled lightly on his full lower lip.
Ever’s eyelids fluttered, then opened, slowly blinking himself awake. Shit. Ever’s hand—trapped between their bodies—curled against Arsen’s bare chest, making him shiver, his cock taking notice of the barely-there touch. He needed to calm down before he scared him.
But his body just wasn’t getting the memo that Ever was friend, not food. Because even with chapped lips and puffy eyes, Ever looked good enough to eat. And for the first time in a long time, Arsen was starving.
Almost like he could read his thoughts, Ever raised his hand and brushed his fingertips over Arsen’s hair that hung in his eyes. He closed his eyes, praying for some modicum of self-control. Maybe if he just didn’t look at him…
Ever’s index finger ran along the bridge of Arsen’s nose, mimicking Arsen’s earlier movements. No. No. This was definitely not better. It was somehow much worse. He needed to get out of bed and put some distance between them before one of them did something they couldn’t take back.
They were strangers. Ever only touched him for comfort, as a way to anchor himself, not because he wanted anything physical. Arsen couldn’t ruin that trust.
“I have to go downstairs to the garage. Can you stay here and rest?” Ever’s face morphed from fear to confusion to something akin to a sulk, which did nothing to strengthen Arsen’s resolve to leave the warmth of his bed. “Don’t give me that look, little one. I’ll be right downstairs. You can come find me when you wake up and then I’ll get you some food.”
Ever’s scowl disappeared immediately, replaced with that same placid look from last night. That one that told Arsen he was either dissociating or masking his true feelings for Arsen’s benefit. Shit. He needed to choose his words carefully. Ever had spent most of his life following orders. He was clearly still trying to do so.
How long had he lived like that? How long had that woman tortured him? The scars on his back and throat indicated months. The children’s book he’d shown Arsen indicated years. Had she been the only one to…own him? The idea of multiple people abusing Ever over the years left Arsen with a rage brewing deep within. It made him want to hurt something, hurt someone. Once more, he wished he could revive that woman and kill her again. She deserved something far worse than a simple bullet in the head.
But none of that would help Ever. And Arsen wasn’t qualified to help this level of trauma. He needed an adult. A real adult. An adultier adult. One who understood taxes and feelings. But he didn’t have one of those handy right now. All he could do was follow Jericho’s advice.
Adapt. Improvise. Overcome.
He gave Ever his brightest smile. “I change my mind. You can look at me however you want. If you’re mad, be mad. If you’re sad, be sad. If you’re happy, be happy. Okay?” He made the okay symbol with his fingers.
Ever studied his face and then his hand, like he wasn’t sure if he was in trouble or not.
“I’ll be right downstairs,” he said again, this time extracting himself from Ever’s limbs, heart tripping as he stared up at Arsen with those big Bambi eyes. “Sleep.”
Ever immediately complied, closing his eyes and rolling onto his belly, burying his face in Arsen’s pillow. Damn it, another order. He vowed to get better. But it was difficult to go against his nature. He spent most of his day herding a bunch of twenty-somethings high on caffeine and short on attention. That required being direct. And loud. And giving concise instructions. The boys were efficient, but they were also absent-minded and stubborn.
