“Mal…”
Danny’s stomach grumbled before he could finish what he’d meant to say, and they laughed out of their embrace. The ease in which the sound left Danny made Mal certain that this time it was real.
“It’s a little early for dinner,” Mal said, smoothing his thumb along Danny’s cheekbone, “but I’m guessing you could use a snack.”
Danny chuckled with a flush of embarrassment, andthere—there was the Danny Grant that Mal was used to. He still existed beneath the darkness. Mal could coax him out again.
“Bulgogi?” Danny’s eyes brightened.
His one-track mind never failed to amuse Mal. And after all, the leftovers had gone a little too long without being refrigerated or reheated, currently resting in a heap on Mal’s living room floor, so someone better eat them. “You can have some,” he said.
Grinning boyish and wide, Danny rolled out of bed with a triumphant flourish. He soon stood before Mal clean and dressed, with the tears wiped from his face. But Mal saw one, a stubborn drop of moisture in the corner of Danny’s eye that slipped free and froze on his cheek.
Sitting up, Mal gestured Danny closer. He expected a kiss, so Mal gave him one, but he also brushed his thumb over that stray tear. Danny’s smile faltered in the wake of the affection,his sadness showing through again, so potent and deep in the moments he didn’t try to hide it.
“I suppose asking you to wait for me is like slow torture,” Mal said.
Danny rolled his eyes with a quirk to his lips. “Pretty sure we already accomplished that kink for one day.”
“Go on.” Mal gestured toward the stairs.
Lightning jumping away in his haste, Danny’s departure was followed by sounds of him in the kitchen, putting the bags of unnecessary gifts away and shoving the bulgogi into the microwave.
Meanwhile, Mal tore his shirt over his head and tossed it into the hamper. He knew it was silly to have kept it on; Danny had already seen, he knew. Next time Mal would try to break the habit.
His shorts and slacks were down by his desk, calling for a whole new outfit. He grabbed a fresh pair of pants and…huh. He’d forgotten about that shirt, buried in the back of his closet, one Lucy had bought him to ‘brighten up’ his often dark wardrobe. It was blue, but not navy like he was accustomed to. Instead it was a jewel-toned teal—cerulean.
Mal put it on, leaving it untucked and the first couple buttons undone. Danny enjoyed his casual side. He could polish up his look after Danny left.
Pausing to pick up his pants and underwear when he reached the foot of the stairs, Mal found that they had already been folded and set on his desk chair. Danny had hung up their coats as well, and their shoes were lined up in front of the door. Mal’s mouth twitched with a fond smile.
Crossing to where Danny had claimed his usual—usual—seat at the kitchen island, he watched Danny take a glutinous bite from a healthy helping of bulgogi with an extra fork set aside for him.
Danny hummed and licked his lips. “Want some?”
Dom and Lucy were never going to let Mal live this down…
He sat on the stool next to Danny, picked up the extra fork, and speared a piece of meat. It was as delicious as Mrs. Pak’s cooking always was.
Catching Danny eyeing the bright teal shirt appreciatively, Mal decided to take this encounter as another win, despite the nagging feeling that this whole domestic scene was dragging him far too willingly into the unknown.
After all, he had finally gotten to bend Zeus in half.
ß
Danny ate ravenously. Cho never seemed to mind that he was a bottomless pit and needed food at all hours. But as delicious as the bulgogi was, it settled heavily in Danny’s stomach.
He hadn’t meant to confess all that. To get flustered and teary-eyed in front ofCho. Yet the way he reacted upstairs, that’s what Danny wanted, wasn’t it? That was how he got Cho to fall for him so he could break his heart, make him pay, makesomeonepay for everything Danny had gone through. Because Cho deserved it.
Didn’t he?
“Danny?”
Cho’s voice made Danny realize he’d been staring at his next bite of food for almost a minute. He set it down. “I think I’ve had enough,” he said, pulling on a smile that he doubted Cho bought anymore, if the man ever had.
Cho nodded with an indulgent expression. He wouldn’t push. Heneverpushed Danny. But he’d fight him and shoot ice at him and show his true colors again soon enough. Danny couldn’tforget that. Once Cho donned his Prometheus gear, everything would return to normal and Danny would remember why Cho was the one he’d targeted.
Because he’d betrayed Danny. And hurt him. Hurt others. He was a criminal. A liar. Avillain.
