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  "Shh." He shook his head. He didn't talk about those.

  "No. I don't believe in pushing things under the proverbial carpet." Harrison touched another one. "These are here. You did this to yourself. I can show you something more intense, more rewarding."

  "Please stop. I have to work now." He stepped forward, then back.

  "I'm not going to stop. You need me." Harrison stepped forward as well, then again, making him back up.

  "This is my space..."

  "Making it a safe place to do this. Or you can come back to mine."

  "You're a sweet man..." Right?

  Harrison snorted. "Yours or mine, Giles?"

  He shook his head, refusing to answer. Refusing to do this.

  Harrison stepped up to him, hand going behind his neck, tilting his head. He could see the kiss coming, Harrison's eyes heated, aroused. All the sound in his head eased, quieted. Stilled.

  Then Harrison's lips were on his, hot and sure, taking command. None of today's earlier kisses had been like this, and Giles was caught in it. Harrison's tongue pushed into his mouth, explored. Harrison was tasting him, and Giles stood there, caught, almost trapped. The kiss went on and on, Harrison not giving him a single quarter.

  By the time Harrison's mouth left his, Giles was dazed, blinking.

  "Bed," growled Harrison, gaze never leaving his.

  He pointed to the back corner, the futon there. His napping spot.

  One of Harrison's eyebrows went up. "Where's your bedroom?"

  "What?"

  "Your real bed, where is it?"

  "That is where I nap. This is my home."

  "It's where you nap, but where do you sleep?"

  He stepped away from Harrison, the chill hitting him again, the knowledge that he didn't belong in the world with anyone else, that he needed to go. "I told you already. It's right there." This was wrong, to let Harrison in here.

  "Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. It's just a small, hard bed."

  He shook his head. "This is my place. People don't belong here." He headed for the door.

  Harrison grabbed hold of his arm, pulled him close. "I'm not people."

  "We have to go. You have to go, hmm?" He couldn't do this. He didn't belong in everyone else's world.

  "No. I'm not going to let you chase me away. You need me. You need what I can give you."

  He shook his head. "Later. Later, we can hook up."

  "I don't want to 'hook up' with you, Giles. I want to make you fly."

  "I shouldn't have let you in."

  "You should let me in even deeper."

  "You don't understand, Harrison." He led them both toward the door. "I don't live in the same world."

  "I know all about living in a different world. I know how to keep you in mine."

  He shook his head, a little scared now. Harrison was so much. "Go. I'll call you. Later. We'll have coffee somewhere."

  "You can't always lose yourself in the art." Harrison touched the scars on his chest again.

  "Not always." He kissed Harrison's cheek, opened the door. "I'll call. Soon."

  Harrison growled softly. "The only reason I'm going now is because you don't understand the rules. Next time, you will."

  "Thank you for the shrimp."

  He closed the door behind Harrison, locked it. Considered bursting into tears.

  Then he threw the food away and went back to work.

  Chapter Five

  Harrison gave Giles two days before he called.

  No one answered the telephone.

  So he gave it another day, and when this phone call wasn't answered either, he showed up on Giles' doorstep and buzzed. When that didn't work, he waited for a neighbor to come down the commen stairs and slipped inside, heading up and knocking hard on Giles' door.

  The music inside got louder.

  Harrison shook his head and rang the bell at this door several times, followed by more banging. "We agreed to talk, Giles." The man was going to put himself into an early grave.

  The door opened a crack, a red-rimmed eye peering out at him. "I said I'd call you later. I'm working."

  He frowned; had Giles had any sleep at all? "It's more than three days later."

  "I'm working. What time is it? I could meet you for coffee after I shower."

  "Or we could shower together. It's almost seven p.m. Tuesday evening."

  "I don't let people in. I shouldn't have let you in before. You smell so good."

  "So let me in for smelling good."

  Giles' eyebrows lowered. "I'm very tired. Did that make sense?"

  "Of course it made sense, and you need to take a break. I know you won't take one if I just leave again."

  "I don't have a real bed, but that doesn't matter because you're not staying. I have a real shower."

  Harrison chuckled. "I'll share a real shower with you. And then you can come have a late dinner with me and share my real bed."

  His -- how he was thinking of the man as "his" already, he wasn't sure, but he was -- artist blinked at him, then took a step back, letting the door open. "Watch out for the paint."

  The studio was filled with canvases -- huge, amazing, colorful pieces that battered at the eyes, at the soul.

  There were a ton more now than there had been three days ago. He was sure of it now; Giles hadn't slept at all in the time between his visits. And somehow he knew that this was how it usually was.

  Giles must have lost five pounds in the three days, too. The man's fingernails were torn, there were bruises on his arms -- it was like he'd been in a fight.

  Harrison reached out automatically, fingers light on Giles' bruised skin. "What happened to you?"

  Giles looked. "I don't know. I was working."

  "You did this to yourself." He shook his head. Giles needed him. There was no question of that.

  "I. Was. Working."

  "And that's an excuse to abuse yourself?"

  "Shh. I'm going to take a shower so we can have coffee." Giles headed toward the back of the studio, weaving toward a set of double doors. Harrison followed, enjoying the sway of Giles' ass, the bare back somehow covered in paint.

  The doors opened to expose a stark bathroom with the biggest shower he'd ever seen. God, he needed one of these. There were three different showerheads and different angles. Utter decadence. Especially in the otherwise austere surroundings.

  Giles stripped down out of his jeans, exposing himself without a hint of worry. Paint and cuts, bruises and marks covered the gaunt body. Those marks should have been made by him. Giles was his. The possessive emotion was strong and sure. Giles was his.

  The water started, Giles stumbling into the spray, face lifted to it. Harrison pulled off his own clothes and stepped in behind Giles, pressing up against the willowy body. He let one hand slide down, rub along the lean belly.

  "You have special soap for the paint?"

  "Just scratch it off. No big." Giles grabbed the bar soap and a rough scrubber, attacking his body.

  "Whoa." He took the soap and the scrubber for Giles' hands. Scratching it off by hand would be preferable to this. Or scraping it off with the edge of a sharp knife.

  He took Giles' hands and brought them up to the top showerhead. "Hold on and don't let go."

  "Huh?" Giles held on, the paint mostly flaking off with the pressure of the water.

  He used his nails on the rest, slowly working the paint off Giles' skin, making sure the man had plenty of sensation when he did it. It told him something, how Giles moaned, held on, the look on the man's face peaceful. He took his time; anyone who had a shower this big had a hot water heater to match.

  The pale skin turned pink, and Giles' tension dissolved. Oh, he had a sub here. A needy, desperate man. Harrison got the last of the paint off and then took Giles' mouth. Giles opened to him, kissed him slowly, lazily, so he deepened the kiss in small increments, letting it build.

  Giles' hands lowered from the shower head, arms wrapping around Harrison’s should
ers. It made him growl a little, but he allowed it. Next time he'd cuff Giles' hands to the showerhead and bring a flogger, give his man an added sensation.

  "We should have coffee now." Giles hummed into his mouth.

  "Coffee and bacon and eggs."

  "Mmm. Maybe. Not hungry, really."

  "You need to eat, though." He stroked his fingers across Giles' belly, the man so thin.

  "Maybe. After coffee."

  He snorted. He thought maybe with coffee. Or before coffee. And after coffee. But first things first.

  He took Giles' mouth again, his body beginning to get eager. Giles hummed, hand sliding down his belly to circle his cock. Yeah, that felt good. So did mirroring the movement, taking Giles' cock in his hand and tugging firmly.

  Giles leaned against him, trusting his strength. He let his free hand find Giles' ass and hold on as he jacked the man, thumb working the tip. The ring moved easily, slick against his touch.

  Giles was already decorated like someone's beloved sub. He needed a Dom in the worst way. And Harrison wanted to be that Dom. He was that Dom.

  He pulled harder on Giles' prick.

  "Mmm." Giles' head fell back, the fingers on his cock moving faster.

  He leaned in to bite at Giles' neck even as he pressed their cocks together, wrapped both their hands around their pricks so they could get there together.

  Giles came seconds before he did, heat joining the water over his cock. Groaning, he kissed Giles again, lazy this time, but still heated. Giles slumped, moaning into his lips.

  "Mmm. That was nice. We should get out before it gets cold, though."

  "Uh-huh. Coffee."

  And food. Whatever food he could get into Giles, but for now he'd just go with coffee.

  Harrison nodded, turned off the shower, and looked for some towels. Giles went to a cabinet, pulled out a towel, and handed it to him. Grinning, he tugged Giles close and began rubbing the man down with the terrycloth. He was fairly rough, working this new sensation all over Giles' skin. Giles moaned, stretched, accepting each caress.

  "You're something else, Giles."

  "Mmm. I need my coffee." Giles kissed his cheek.

  "I imagine the promise of caffeine is about the only thing keeping you from falling asleep where you're standing." He grabbed his clothes and started dressing.

  "I'm good. I'm just fine." Giles wandered to a dresser, pulled out jeans and a T-shirt.

  No, Harrison didn't think Giles was good at all, but he knew he could help with that. "Come on. I'm taking you to dinner at my club. I want you to see it."

  "I thought we were having a coffee."

  "They have coffee at the Hammer." He took Giles' hand and they headed out.

  Giles locked everything, carefully, before following him, staying close.

  Harrison clicked his key fob, unlocking the car.

  "The Hammer? Where is it?"

  Harrison wasn't sure Giles even knew what day it was let alone where they were. "In the district downtown. You've never been there?"

  "No. No, I don't think so. I like Magic Java."

  "The Hammer Club is a members-only club. We can bring guests, though." He headed the car into the flow of traffic. It wouldn't take them long to get there.

  "As long as they have coffee." Focused man.

  Harrison imagined Giles was so tired, that's all his brain could do. "They have coffee." He chuckled, pulling into the parking lot.

  "This is an... industrial part of town."

  "Huh?"

  "The warehouses? It feels industrial."

  "Ah. It isn't. It's all converted space." He pointed out the stores, the gym, the restaurants.

  Giles' poor red eyes took it all in. "Neat."

  "We're going to the tasteful club right there." He climbed out and opened the door for Giles. His card was swiped at the foyer, the bouncer waving them in. He put his hand in the small of Giles' back, guiding him across the floor to the tables.

  "It's dark in here. I like it."

  "Good. Ah, here's a table for two." He seated Giles and settled in next to the man.

  "There's no host? No maitre d'? That's cool."

  He pointed to where Xavier was working behind the bar. "He manages the place, and if I'd wanted, he'd have seated us. We're a little late for formality. And it is a Tuesday."

  "Oh."

  Xavier waved to him, then the bouncy waiter they all called Happy came over, whistling and bright-eyed. The kid reminded him forcibly of a puppy. "Good evening, Sirs!"

  Harrison chuckled. "Hi there, Happy. It's a quiet night tonight."

  "It has been! Which sucks because Chef made yummies." Happy beamed at him, pretty blue eyes dancing. "Tonight he did tapas, which is neat, but the best part? He made French toast! For supper!"

  Giles laughed softly from beside him.

  He shot Giles a smile before turning back to Happy. "Well, then, we'll have to have a plate of French toast. Oh, and two cups of coffee, please."

  "Of course, Sirs. Do you like cream?"

  "No, thank you. I drink it black." Giles smiled at Happy. "Thank you."

  "I'll take hazelnut cream, though, if you have it. No sugar." He could drink it black if he had to, but he did like it flavored up.

  "Yes, Sir. I'll be quick as a bunny."

  Giles laughed again as Happy bounced off. "God, he's adorable."

  "Isn't he? Irrepressible. The only time I haven't seen him with a smile on his face is when Nic was sick."

  "Nic?"

  "Dominic, his master."

  "Master?" Giles' nose wrinkled.

  "Yes, this is a BDSM club. And before you wrinkle your nose at it -- remember how bright and happy our waiter was."

  "A... wow. Somebody read a lot of porn and decided to make a club? Neat. It's not as dirty as you'd think."

  One of his eyebrows went up and he kept himself from growling. He knew a lot of people only knew the lifestyle as stroking-off material. "It's not dirty at all. And it's not all about sex. It's a lifestyle." One that Giles needed desperately, that would help him so much.

  "Cool." Giles wasn't paying attention, he could tell. "Do you have a pen?"

  He pulled a pen out of his pocket and handed it over, a slight frown pulling his eyebrows together.

  "Thank you." Giles unrolled the silverware and started drawing on the cloth napkin. Images appeared like magic: him, Happy, Xavier, the lights above the bar.

  "You've got an amazing talent."

  "It's a thing." Giles stole his napkin next, started working.

  "You should carry a sketch pad around with you." It would save napkins.

  Happy brought the coffee, placed it on the table, careful of the drawings. "Oh, wow..."

  "Lovely, aren't they?" Harrison beamed at Happy. "Do you think you could ask Xavier for some paper, if he's got any?"

  "Absolutely, Sir. The French toast will be coming soon."

  "Thanks, Happy." Once Happy'd gone, he settled in to watch Giles. The man didn't have talent -- he was possessed by it. Consumed and being eaten by it.

  Harrison had a few ideas about how to help Giles find more balance in his life, how to rule the demons that plagued him. He took a sip of his coffee, nudged Giles, and pointed to the man's mug.

  "Mmm. Thanks." Giles drank deep, long throat working. "What day did you say it was?"

  "Tuesday." He smiled his thanks when Happy stopped by with the paper he'd asked for, handing it to Giles.

  "Oh, thank you. Can I have a refill, please?"

  Happy nodded, bounced. "You can. That's too cool. Just amazing."

  Giles signed the napkin, handed it over.

  "Oh. Oh, wow. My master will love it. He'll be so surprised. Thank you!"

  Harrison chuckled. "That was nice of you. You've made his day."

  Giles shrugged. "Wait until he finds out what it's worth on eBay."

  "It's a portrait of him that he's going to give his master. I don't think it's going to wind up on eBay."

  "Things e
nd up in weird places. Even personal things."

  "Does it bother you? When people see your art and start thinking dollar signs?"

  "That's Marisa's job, not mine. It bothers me when people steal things of mine and sell them."

  "But it would be okay for Happy to do it because you gave it to him, eh?"

  Giles nodded. "It that makes him happy. It's not mine anymore."

  "Huh. I guess that's a good idea." He smiled and slid his hand along Giles' arm. "Would you like to hear more about the BDSM lifestyle?"

  Happy warmed up Giles' coffee, brought them a huge platter of French toast and sausage.

  "Thanks, Happy. These look great. Is there maple syrup?"

  "Yes, Sir. And honey. I'll get the tray."

  He nodded his thanks and turned back to Giles. "Well? Would you like to hear more about the lifestyle?"

  "Sure. I like stories." Giles leaned back with his coffee.

  Harrison cut off a bite of French toast and held it out to Giles. "It's a real thing."

  "I'm not hungry." Those lips opened.

  "Of course not." No, Giles was no doubt starving and just didn't realize it. He popped the bite into Giles' mouth Giles hummed, ate the bite. "Doms give subs what they need." He put another bite in Giles' mouth.

  "Do you have one?"

  "No. I'm in the market for one, though."

  "Huh. Will you look here?"

  "I'm looking here right now." He kept his gaze on Giles.

  "You'll find a Dom here? Neat."

  Harrison laughed. "No, babe. I'm the Dom."

  Giles' laugh was almost gentle. "Are you? For someone like Happy?"

  "I was thinking more like for someone like you."

  "I don't think there's another person like me anywhere."

  "No. I don't think so, either." He wondered if Giles would twig to what he meant or if he'd have to spell it out.

  "So do you come here and have sex?"

  "No, I come here and have amazing meals. Then I watch people having sex on stage."

  "Oh." Giles finished his coffee. "Is that legal?"

  "It's consensual, and no one's being paid."