And safe.
They kissed like movie stars. Sid tipped Dante back in his arms, sliding his tongue into Dante’s hot mouth.I want to fuck him so much. And he would.
One day.
With a wry grin, he pulled back and eased Dante upright again. “Thank you,” he said. “For telling me how you feel, and for trusting me. I believe you, I trust you, and I need you to know I always will unless you give me reason not to.”
“I know that.” Dante pressed their foreheads together. “And it’s everything to me. I’ve got a lot of work to do on myself before I think I deserve it, though.”
“Because of Luis?”
“Because of me. Luis will be how he is no matter what I do, and I’ve accepted that. I want him in my life, but I’m never going to force him.”
“He might surprise you.”
“Maybe. But I’m okay if he doesn’t.”
“You really are, aren’t you?”
“What?”
“Okay. You’re glad Asa came for you.”
Dante shrugged. “I was so fucking scared, but not that he’d hurt me, more that I’d never see you again and you’d never know how I felt about you. Or that you’d think I left you because I didn’t care.”
“I never thought that.”
“No?”
“It crossed my mind, but in here—” Sid tapped his chest. “—I knew you loved me. I think I’ve known for a while.”
Dante closed his eyes. He was still for a long time as Sid held him. The sun had returned to the clouds by the time he looked at Sid again. “Can I ask you something?”
Sid roused himself from the trance Dante’s hypnotic company often put him in. “Of course.”
“What the fuck happened to the duck pond?”
Epilogue
The first and last contract Dante had ever signed had been the agreement between himself and the probation service that he’d adhere to the conditions of his release. At the time, scrawling his name had meant everything, and yet somehow nothing at all, as if the hand clutching the pen had belonged to someone else.
Now, as Benjamin’s watchful gaze coated him like sticky tarmac on a summer’s day, that same hand trembled.
“You can take it away with you if you like,” Benjamin said. “Think about it.”
Dante shook his head. There was nothing to think about. The piece of paper Benjamin had slid across the table was a gift, a permanent extension of the second chance he’d offered Dante before they’d ever met, and everything Dante had never known he wanted. So why was accepting it so fucking terrifying?
You know why. Because you’re still stuck in that shitty world where bad things and bad people never change. But things did change. People did too, and slowly but surely, and with the help of a therapist, Dante was learning to believe it.
He signed his name and passed the contract back. “Thank you.”For so many things.
Benjamin smiled, slipped the contract into a folder, and tucked it away in his desk. “No need to thank me. You’ve earned it, but to be honest, this whole thing does me a favour.”
“How so?”
“You’re required to attend six staff meetings a year, which means six meetings Sid won’t come to and give me a hard time.”
“How do you know I won’t do that?”