“Stellar.” Then Aras disappeared into the bathroom, but not with the door closed. Of course, it didn’t seem like he was doing anything particularly notable—he’d turned on the sink and was running his hands under the water infrequently to check the temperature—so why would he close the door?
And why would Danenotwalk in right after him? If he’d been invited to take a shower with Aras, then hanging out while he washed his hands or his face or whatever was absolutely on the table. So he grabbed his phone and headed in, taking a seat on the toilet. “You have any pizza preferences I should know about? Any deal breakers like mushrooms or barbecue sauce?”
Aras looked at him in the mirror, and did a terrible job of hiding his smile, if he was trying to at all. “You don’t like my favorite all-mushroom barbecue pizza?”
“Pass. But I’ll get you one, as long as you don’t plan on making out.”
Aras rubbed his hands together under the water, then scrubbed up and down his face. He didn’t respond until he started soaping up his hands. “Just nothing too spicy. Not feeling it tonight. And if you find a place that does a pesto pizza, it’d earn you a handjob or something.”
“Well, I do strive for a handjob or something.” While Aras lathered his hands and washed his face, Dane looked up local pizza places that did pesto. He found one that had good reviews and went through their menu. “Pesto with sun-dried tomato and prosciutto?”
“Perfect.” Aras’s voice was slightly muffled as he was still scrubbing away. “Unless you don’t like pesto. I’m not that picky.”
“I’ll order. You should ask for what you want.” Dane rose and passed by, giving Aras’s butt a firm squeeze on the way. “Besides, I want my handjob or something.”
“What the actual fuck?” Aras slapped his hands down on the bed, staring at the screen. “Shiba’s not dead?”
“Doesn’t look that way, does it?” Dane had stayed quiet about that particular twist. It was a huge gut-punch when he saw Ancient Protectorate for the first time. If the fan communities online were anything to go on, that was pretty much the standard reaction.
Aras grabbed another slice of pizza from the box and gestured to Dane with it. “And he’s avillainnow?”
“Maybe he always was.” He wasn’t. He’d been wooed over to the enemy’s side by the actions of the Protectorate itself, but that wouldn’t get revealed until the end of the season.
“No way. Someone brainwashed him or something.” Aras took a bite of pizza, then leaned back into the pillows. “Thank you for this damn show. Also, that spider mech thing is as badass as I was hoping.”
“You know its name now. Blinding Seraph.”
“Spider mech thing.” He took another bite. “They must have dropped a bunch of their animation budget just to make that thing look so cool.”
“More just dropped it on the fights. Standard practice.” Dane leaned back as well, nestling in next to Aras. “Let me know when you want to go for the next episode.”
He popped to his feet. “Pee break, then I’m good to go.” He took a step away, then stopped, leaned back down, and gently pressed his lips to the tip of Dane’s nose. “And I didn’t forget you found me pesto. Cash that in whenever you want.”
Dane was tempted to do it immediately, but his mind already whirred ahead. He’d have a better opportunity if he waited. He was still throbbing down below at the mere suggestion, though, and while Aras was out of the room, Dane reached down to adjust himself…and maybe rub his dick more than was strictly necessary in the process.
Also, it was damn good pesto, and damn good pizza. Even if it wouldn’t have been Dane’s first choice—he was bigger on classic red sauce, pepperoni, olives, that kind of thing—he was happy to have it.
Of course, a lot of things about this relationship wouldn’t have been Dane’s first choice. If he’d told himself he’d be trying to get with a guy from work, that wouldn’t have sounded right. Or a guy who collected carnival glass. He wouldn’t have even known what the hell carnival glass was. It certainly would have been off to suggest that he’d be spending his time off work hanging out with someone from the job, watching an anime he’d already seen five or six times. And it definitely wouldn’t have been his first choice, given his druthers, to put in time and energy with a guy, knowing full well it might not be a permanent arrangement at all.
Yet he wouldn’t have made any of those decisions differently. Just like he wouldn’t have gone back in time and picked a different pizza.
Aras walked out, wiping his hands on his thighs, and plopped back into bed. “Let’s get the next one started.”
When Dane leaned against his shoulder, Aras shifted so that he was fully against his chest. Dane could hear his heartbeat—it got faster—as he booted up the next episode.
Chapter twenty-six
Aras
Arascreptoutofbed and blindly fumbled his way toward the bathroom. He closed the door as quietly as he could before turning on the light. He’d be thrilled to be joined, of course, but he wasn’t trying to interrupt Dane’s sleep. If it happened, it happened.
Aras stripped off and looked at himself in the mirror. He pinched his sides and sucked his teeth.Could stand to get something a little more reasonable for dinner tomorrow. For most of his time on the show, he hadn’t really deviated from his normal eating habits, but ever since he and Dane started hanging out…well, watching cartoons and having what amounted to a sleepover every night didn’t feel quite right with salad and grilled chicken or whatever. It felt right with pizza and junk.
“Calm down,” he rolled his eyes at his own reflection. “You didn’t get love handles from eating pizza one night.” Which, to be fair, it was overly critical to call them love handles. But in the early morning, waking up with a guy he wanted to impress…it got a lot easier to be self-critical, and a lot harder to ignore the flaws that he might end up showing Dane.
He turned on the shower and waited for it to heat up. The mirrors would steam over and he wouldn’t be staring at himself. But in the meantime, hedidangle his hips to look at his own ass. There, he couldn’t find much to complain about, besides the weird bump where he sat on a pencil as a kid. The lead broke off, but it never caused him problems. Once it stopped hurting, it never hurt again. Even then, when he poked at it, no pain at all. Just the tiny bump and a story that had happened long enough ago he could laugh about it.
When he saw the first fingers of condensation creeping across the edges of the mirror, he stepped into the shower and closed the glass door behind him. The tiles were only a little bit of a deathtrap, but he kept one hand on the little shelf they had for shampoo and conditioner and all that, so he at least wasn’t at immediate risk to fall and break his tailbone.
