Work Text:
If you're not gonna stay
Please don't tease me
Like you did before
Because I still love you so
- Hello Stranger by Barbara Lewis
Orange and pink clouds were barely passing through the violet sky when Matteo dropped Dave off at his apartment complex. It had been another droll night shift at Dexalabs, made only slightly more palatable by Matteo’s ever-colourful commentary.
Dave was considering whether to just immediately collapse in bed and get it over with, or attempt to stay up a few more hours in the hopes that his exhaustion would somehow trigger a dreamless sleep. Not that that ever worked.
All thoughts came to a halt, however, when he spotted a figure leaning up against the entrance of the complex. In the lilac shadows, it was hard to make them out. He could see they cut a lean figure, a tall shadow with broad shoulders and long legs.
At Dave’s approach, the shadow pushed off the wall and stepped into the early morning light. Dave’s entire body seized.
He looked sharper than the last time they met. All angles in the slope of his shoulders and the cut of his jaw where before he was softer with youth. They’d been teenagers back then, barely on the cusp of adulthood. But still, there was the same honey coloured hair, the slightly crooked nose, deep-set blue eyes like a pair of whirlpools.
Thirteen years felt like a blip and a lifetime all in one.
“What are you—?”
Came to see you, Casey signed.
Dave huffed harshly. He’s rusty, a little out of practice since he stopped going to the community center ASL lessons. But his hands moved sharp and semi-sure as he signed, Why me?
Casey closed his hands into fists, crossing them over his chest with his palms facing inward, then moved his hands apart and rotated the palms to face outward.
Safe, Casey mouthed along with the Sign, blue eyes imploring.
God, Dave had forgotten just how hypnotic those eyes could be.
“Safe from what?” Dave asked tiredly, already half defeated.
Casey merely shook his head, frown apologetic.
Dave stepped closer, voice pinched low as he stared up at Casey.
“What am I getting into here, Case?”
Casey swallowed thickly, hands fidgeting with the hem of his jacket. It was the same one he’d worn in the ward all those years ago. He had guarded it religiously if he wasn’t wearing it. The same quilted silvery fabric. The gold embroidered scorpion on the back. The bloodstains were gone, though.
“Please,” Casey murmured, causing Dave to startle.
Casey had never spoken during their time together. Not once. As far as the doctors and Dave knew, he wasn’t capable. And yet…
Dave sighed, running his hands down his face.
“I’m too tired to deal with this right now,” he started, watching the disappointment flash across Casey’s features. He could already feel his flimsy resolve crumbling into ash at the weight of the expression. He’d always been a sucker for the kicked puppy look, no matter the person. “I need sleep, but we can talk after.”
Casey’s head shot up, eyes wide and imploring.
“Do you have a place to stay?” Dave continued.
Casey nodded towards the nearby car park. Dave instantly spotted the unfamiliar silver Malibu amongst the regular pickups and Subarus. Dave didn’t know much about cars, but the Malibu looked to be in pristine condition. Well-cared for and spotlessly clean.
“Just the car?”
Casey nodded.
Dave swallowed thickly, scratching at his scruff. This was such a bad idea. A terrible idea even. The worst. But… “If you don’t mind waiting, you can chill in my apartment while I catch up on some sleep?”
Casey placed his index finger to his lips, then moved the finger downward while pointing forward with a questioning look. Really?
“I’m just as surprised as you,” Dave murmured sarcastically. He turned a shrewd look on Casey. “You can stay, but when I wake up later, you have to tell me what’s going on.” He risked a step closer, pointing a warning finger at his chest. “If you fucking run away on me again without saying anything, I’m gonna chase you down myself. Got it?”
Casey blinked, expression perfectly neutral, not giving anything away. And then Casey did the strangest thing. He smiled and nodded.
Dave figured it was as good an agreement as he was going to get.
“Come on then,” he murmured, gesturing for Casey to follow him into his complex.
Casey remained three steps behind, a near-silent shadow trailing after Dave. He hesitated only for a second when stepping into the elevator but otherwise gave no indication of what he was thinking.
Casey had always been difficult to read, even back then. Always so quiet, so composed. The nurses called him a sweet boy. The doctors called him concerning. Dave had called him his friend.
Shaking his head of the past, Dave unlocked his apartment door and stepped through the threshold. He took off his shoes, Casey doing the same after a moment of consideration.
It wasn’t much. Mostly open floor plan except for the bathroom and bedroom. But it was Dave’s, every last square inch, no matter how small. The navy blue couch he’d gotten on sale and the plush velvet armchair he’d found on the curb. Folded across the one arm was the handmade quilt his halmeoni had gifted him on his tenth birthday, just as she’d done for his father. Some art decorated the walls, mostly picked out by his mom. All except the glass-blown whale statue. That he’d found at a craft market and used nearly two months’ worth of allowance to buy at the time. It had been a couple of months just after he got out of the psych ward.
He watched Casey take in the details of the place. His hands were in his jacket pockets, steps light-footed and unassuming. It felt like looking at a ghost, the Casey of the past superimposed on his life in the present. But then Casey turned to him and offered that shy smile, hands moving fluidly as he signed, It’s a beautiful home.
“Thanks…” Dave murmured. “Um. Feel free to watch something on the TV or read or whatever. There’s some basics in the fridge if you’re hungry.” He hoisted his thumb over his shoulder, indicating his bedroom. “I’m gonna try to get a couple hours of sleep.”
Casey nodded, fair brows furrowed in mild concern as he signed Okay to sleep?
Why do you care? Dave wanted to snap, if only to get some sort of reaction. But that was the exhaustion talking. Mostly.
“I’ll be fine. You’ll hear if I’m not,” Dave said plainly. Just another Tuesday in the life and nightmares of one Dave Torres.
Casey didn’t look entirely convinced, but he didn’t argue. He gave a single nod.
With that, Dave turned on his heel and slipped into his bedroom, the door clicking shut loud enough to be a gunshot in the quiet.
“Fuck…” he murmured, sliding down against the door so he could curl his knees to his chest. Just what the fuck was he doing?
*
Dave woke to midday sunlight and the smell of bacon and syrup. He’d been half convinced he dreamed up meeting Casey that morning, and yet as he shuffled out of his bedroom, there he stood, making pancakes in the little kitchenette.
Casey gave a small nod in greeting, plating up the last of the pancakes and gesturing for Dave to sit at the table. There was syrup and whipped cream and some freshly cut strawberries even. A full breakfast spread.
You’re here, Dave signed stiltedly.
Casey’s smile was small, more apologetic than anything. You asked me to stay.
And he did. This time, at least, he did.
“Eat, then we’ll talk,” Dave murmured, cutting into his pancakes sullenly.
He couldn’t help cataloguing Casey where he sat across from him. He’d stripped off his jacket and pocketed the brown leather driving gloves, leaving him in a semi-clean white Henley and dark straight-leg jeans. If Dave glanced at him in the corner of his eye, he could still be that quiet 19-year-old boy he’d met in the psych ward all those years ago. Same crew cut. Same heavy-lidded eyes. Same unassuming smile.
He looked weary, though. Not that Dave was faring much better, probably. The nightmares were no better now than they had been when he’d first arrived at the ward.
18 months of sensory deprivation in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, all flushed down the drain because he wanted to impress a girl by watching some stupid scary movie. The film wasn’t even that good. Some cheap horror made for the gore and thrill, with a plot that was cookie-cutter at best. He’d laughed and cringed alongside Jane, and even gotten a kiss from her at the end of the night. At the time, it seemed harmless, totally worth it. But that same night, those stupid Moobles haunted his dreams, crawled under his skin, told him to cut cut cut them out or else bad things would happen.
So he did.
It wasn’t much of a surprise that the doctors recommended a stay in the psych ward after his episode. He was a self-harm risk that needed constant supervision and care that his parents simply couldn’t provide. At least until the nightmares faded away. If they faded away.
Dave hadn’t had high hopes upon entering the ward with his tiny duffel, Converse stripped of their laces and drawstrings removed from every pair of pants that had them. Merely precautions, the nurses assured. It didn’t feel any less embarrassing being patted down for sharp implements and having his bag dug through with proficient neutrality.
And what was even worse? He’d have to share a room. No doubt his new roommate would hate his guts for having to deal with his nightmares each night. At least, that had been Dave’s concern until he’d stepped through the door and seen the blonde waif of a boy sitting on one of the beds.
He was sitting with a textbook that, when Dave managed to steal a glance, revealed ASL signs and grammar.
“Casey, this is Dave. He’s going to be your new roommate,” the nurse explained.
Casey’s head had risen slowly, hollow blue eyes meeting Dave’s across the room. His lips had twitched just barely in the corner, his hand making a saluting gesture in greeting.
“Hey,” Dave replied with an awkward wave.
“Casey’s a very sweet boy, very quiet,” the nurse said softly as she helped Dave get settled. “Doesn’t talk, really. Hence the,” she made a range of gestures. “I think he could use a friend. Think you’re up for the challenge?”
Dave wasn’t there to make friends. He was there to suffer through the trial and error of medication cocktails and the harrowing experience of group therapy with a bunch of other sullen teens until the doctors deemed him fit enough to head home. But the nurse looked so hopeful, and Casey was just minding his business, practising his Signs. He seemed harmless, mild, sweet even. Hopefully, Dave wouldn’t bother him too much with his nightmares.
Dave had nodded, if only to get the nurse off his back.
Dave often wondered in the years that followed. What if he’d been assigned a different roommate? What if he and Casey hadn’t crossed paths? Would he have been better off?
Probably not, if he was being honest with himself. Which he was trying to be. Since Katie.
You can’t even be honest with yourself.
Dave huffed, shovelling another bite of pancake into his mouth. It was soft and fluffy, not too sweet and just the right amount of buttery.
“These are good,” he said, adding a one-handed sign for good.
Casey smiled, quietly pleased.
It was only after the empty plates had been moved to the sink and cups of coffee had been poured that Dave finally asked his first question.
“What did you mean by safe?”
Casey frowned, shoulders hunching slightly. His fingers flexed around his coffee cup, expression considering. Dave sat back and waited.
Silences were never a bad thing with Casey. If anything, it had been a respite compared to the chaos of the ward—overcrowded and understaffed as those units tended to be. Sometimes it felt like the only time Dave could breathe was when he had Casey at his side, which became more the norm the longer he stayed there.
Until Casey had up and left. No note. No explanation. No way to keep in contact. No way for Dave to know if he’d been the reason Casey left.
Until now.
“You can write it down, if it’s easier,” Dave murmured, a familiar phrase between them.
Casey shook his head, hands tightening on his cup.
“You deserve to know,” he rasped.
Dave sat up straighter in his seat at the sound. It was soft, the wisp of dry grass in the dead of an LA summer. A little monotone, a little rusty from disuse. But Casey was talking.
He was talking.
“I know, back then, they thought I hurt myself,” he started, gesturing to his right hip. Dave had only ever seen glances of the stitched-up stab wound Casey had borne. Self-inflicted had been the whispers in the halls. But Dave knew first-hand what self-inflicted knife wounds looked like. The angle; it was all wrong. But he never said anything. Who would believe the parasomniac experiencing a supposed psychotic break?
“It was easier to let them believe that than explaining what happened. Safer,” Casey continued.
“What really happened?” Dave asked, hesitant but firm.
Casey’s expression evened out into a blank slate, eyes somewhere far away.
“I got mixed up in something bad. Bad people, with dirty money. I was just trying to help a friend. I was just supposed to be the getaway driver. Five minutes. That’s all I ever gave them. No guns. No contact. Just driving.”
Dave nodded slowly, the facts slotting together like jigsaw pieces in his head. But there was no picture reference, and half the pieces were different shades of grey. There was still so much Casey wasn’t saying.
“Casey,” Dave sighed. He reached out, hesitant, hand hovering over Casey’s where he gripped the handle of his mug. He waited for the faintest nod before letting his hand rest atop Casey’s. His fingers were long and thin where Dave’s were wide and stocky. “Tell it to me straight, please? I’m not gonna judge. I just want to understand.”
Why did you leave me? What did I do wrong? Why why why?
“You won’t like me after,” Casey whispered, shoulders rolling all the way up to his ears.
“Case, you know my dreams, man. You know the shit I’ve done. I’m the last person to judge.”
Casey glanced up through long, thick lashes, blue eyes wide and almost childlike in that moment.
“I’ll leave, if you tell me to.”
“I won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Try me,” Dave argued.
Casey swallowed. His hand shifted, turning to thread his fingers with Dave’s. It felt exactly the same as it did that night. Their last night together.
“I met Shannon when I was sixteen,” Casey started.
And Dave listened, and waited, and listened some more.
And it wasn’t all tragedy and violence, but a lot of it was. Moments of self-defence and protective instincts, of boot heels slamming into glass skulls and hammers breaking crooked jaws and bloody hands.
There was a boy who liked to play with dinosaurs and a woman with a sad smile. There was a father figure with a broken pelvis and a penchant for bad luck. Two gangsters who didn’t care whose blood was on their hands, just whose turn it was to pull the trigger. And at the center of it all was a bag of money that Casey never wanted a cent of, and earned a stab wound in return.
Dave listened to it all, only ever getting up to refill his coffee cup.
Casey didn’t mince his words. Spoke quietly, evenly, like he was recounting events of someone else’s tragedy. It was just facts.
Until he got to the psych ward.
“I needed to get the wound fixed; I needed to lay low. Who would look for a getaway driver in a psych ward?” Casey said, smiling humorlessly. “I was just buying time. Figuring out my next move. And then you came along.”
His hand gave Dave’s a squeeze. They were still tangled together between them on the tabletop.
“You were… safe.”
“I woke you up screaming every night,” Dave reminded him shortly.
Casey shrugged. “I didn’t mind. I liked helping.”
Helping. Right. What started as getting Dave glasses of water and sitting up with him until he got his breathing under control had melted into hugs and handholding. One fateful night, they had fallen asleep together on Dave’s bed. It hadn’t been planned. One minute they’d been signing to one another late in the night, and the next they were being woken up for breakfast, Dave cuddled up against a still-snoozing Casey’s side.
It had been the first night in weeks that the dreams didn’t plague him.
Dave really thought they had something. That they were on the same page. Heading on the same road. And yet—
“Was the kiss just you helping too?” he shot out, sharp and short.
Casey’s hand tensed under his, but he didn’t pull away.
He shook his head, a deep crease forming between his brows. “No. No, I wanted to. So, so much.”
“So then why did you leave?” Dave strained. “Why didn’t you say anything? No note, no phone number. Just gone. What the hell was I supposed to think, Casey?”
“The last person I kissed nearly got killed ‘cause of me!” Casey erupted. Dave jumped at the suddenness of it, the unfamiliarity. Sure, sometimes Casey’s signing could be sharp, witty, dry, even scathing. But it had been so very rare to see him truly angry.
Dave didn’t know what to call this. This almost… manic look in Casey’s eyes. Desperation and despair and determination all rolled into one.
Just as quickly as the fire came, so the flames went out. Casey retreated into himself, fingers picking at the corner of his lip.
“They were still looking for me,” Casey continued. “I was still in danger. Anyone associated with me was in danger. I had to leave. Had to make sure you were safe.”
On the one hand, it sounded like a neat excuse. Dave wanted to rail and rage against it. Let Casey feel all the guilt and uncertainty and hurt he’d accumulated over the years. On the other hand, knowing what he did now, he understood. Casey had been placed in such a terrible position. Fearing for his life and barely even twenty years old.
What kid doesn’t make mistakes at that age?
“So then why now?” Dave asked, tone tired.
“Because it’s safe now,” Casey replied evenly. Cold. Neutral. “You’re safe with me. I made sure of it.”
And that should have scared Dave. The foreboding tone. What wasn’t being said. The underlying violence that no doubt led to that statement being true.
But Casey wouldn’t be sat here if he wasn’t certain. And of all the people he went looking for, he chose Dave.
“Why me?” he whispered, uncertain, hesitant.
Casey shrugged, his feet shuffling beneath the table. He didn’t speak; instead, he signed, I feel safe with you.
Dave released a shaky exhale, hands fidgeting on the tabletop.
“If you don’t feel safe, I can leave,” Casey said, matter-of-fact. “I wouldn’t blame you—“
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
They both startled at that.
Dave coughed, shuffled in his seat, head bowed. He couldn’t meet Casey’s gaze as he said, “I just got you back. Why the hell would I want you gone?”
Casey broke into the most beautiful smile then. It wasn’t the sad, jilted thing, nor the polite smile he put on for strangers. It was the real deal. The rarest of rare.
“I’m still mad, though,” Dave muttered.
Casey nodded, understanding.
“What do you want, now, Casey? Why come here? I mean… how did you even find me?”
Something sheepish crossed Casey’s expression. “Facebook. Your mom—”
Dave huffed a laugh. Of course. His mom was never shy about posting his achievements, even the smallest things like moving into his own apartment, getting the job at Dexalabs. Someone with Casey’s skills could easily track a person down with those details.
“And what if I didn’t want anything to do with you?” Dave asked. “What would you have done then?”
“Drive,” Casey replied. “It’s what I do best.”
“But I’m asking you to stay, so?”
“So I’ll stay.”
“Just like that?”
Casey nodded. “I want…” he paused, considered, then signed, I want to try. With you. To live. Can we?
It was so simple. So plain a question in words, and yet it carried so much.
Dave sucked in another shaky breath, felt a sting in the corner of his eyes. He ducked his face to the side, knuckles pressed to his lips, trying to hold it all back.
“I still get the nightmares,” he warned. “They’ve been… pretty bad lately. I was with someone for a while. Katie. She helped, but”—not like you did— “They still came. It got really bad. I, um.” Dave hesitated before making the Sign for ‘cut’ and drawing a triangle over his chest, tracing exactly where the scar now lay. “And it was too much for her. I don’t blame her. She… she hasn’t had it easy either. And in the end, she needed to choose what was best for her and that… that wasn’t me.”
He huffed a laugh. It lacked all humour. “She’s the only real relationship I’ve ever had. So I’m not, uh, super experienced if you catch my drift.”
Casey’s lips twitched just slightly in the corner. He signed, You were my second and last kiss.
“Really?”
Casey nodded, cheeks turning a faint rosy hue. And that shouldn’t have made Dave feel as fluttery as it did. There was still so much they hadn’t talked about. Still so much unsaid.
Thirteen years was a long time. They were kids when they met. Teenagers still trying to figure themselves out. Hell, Dave was thirty now, and he still didn’t have a clue what he was doing half the time.
But that kiss with Casey. God, it still haunted his dreams—the few good ones that he had. He’d woken up from a nightmare, and Casey had already been there, arms open and waiting.
They’d held onto each other so tightly, Dave’s face tucked into the crook of Casey’s neck—just as much for comfort as to simply breathe him in. Leather and motor oil and something spicy. And when Dave had finally tilted his head up, his mind and body calm once more, their noses had bumped with how close they were.
He’d wanted to make the first move. Had been working up the nerve for days already. But Casey had beaten him to the punch.
Oh, how gentle Casey had been. He’d asked for permission first, and when Dave had nodded his consent, his hands had been so tremulous where they cupped Dave’s cheeks. Like he was scared Dave might crumple at the faintest touch. The first press of his lips was uncertain, the kiss slightly fumbled, and Dave didn’t care a bit because Casey felt it too. Whatever it was they had, it was real to them both, and that was all that mattered.
Looking back, it was perhaps a naive view, but that didn’t make it any less real in the moment.
They’d held each other that night in Dave’s tiny single bed, legs tangled and breath intermingling. Had exchanged feather-light pecks and the occasional whisper from Dave, Casey tracing out his answers on Dave’s back for him to try and decipher.
They’d been in their own little world. Which made it hurt all the more for Dave to wake alone, arms empty and sheets cool to the touch. He’d looked for Casey at breakfast, in the rec room, the library. Nothing. Eventually, when asked enough times, he was told by one of the nurses that Casey had checked himself out against doctor’s orders. He was nineteen, didn’t need a guardian’s permission.
And that was that.
It was soul-crushing, as all first heartbreaks are when you’re that age. But the years went by, and Dave got better enough to be declared not a danger to himself or others. He got a job and an apartment; he took his meds and managed on the scant hours of sleep he could catch, made new friends, met Katie. He’d moved past it for the most part.
But despite it all, Dave had kept up the ASL. It was the one tangible thing he had from their time together. The only remnant of Casey that he could call his own. Katie had been intrigued when she found out about the skill and had asked how that came about. Dave had simply made up an excuse that he needed a hobby, something to focus on besides the nightmares and adult life. The truth never made itself known.
Casey was his secret, and his alone.
But now here he sat, thirteen years later, asking to try again. To do it right this time. And a part of Dave wanted to say yes, of course, took you long enough. The other shied away at the thought of getting hurt again.
He was only just starting to recover from his and Katie’s breakup. Was it really wise to jump into something now with Casey, knowing what he did now?
Knuckles rapping on the tabletop brought Dave out of his spiralling thoughts. Casey was watching him, patient, waiting.
Dave rubbed a closed S-shaped fist over his chest. “Sorry. I… I want to say yes. But…”
There’s no rush, Casey signed. You can take all the time you need.
Dave swallowed thickly, slowly nodded. “Maybe if we take it slow? Just… see what it's like now, with us as we are. Would that be okay?”
Casey nodded, smile small but true. I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me.
All of it, if you’ll give me your all in return, Dave thought but didn’t say. Not yet, at least. It was still early days after all.
Fuck, just what the hell was he getting himself into?
“Um. I have to get ready for work in a few hours. I do night shifts as a security guard,” Dave explained. He suddenly felt inexplicably nervous. That inexperienced boy stumbling over asking for a kiss all over again.
“I can drive you,” Casey suggested.
Dave startled. “Oh, you don’t have to—”
“I’d like to,” Casey insisted before shyly adding, “If you want. I like driving.”
“Um… sure. If you’re sure?” Dave asked, scrubbing at his nape with a shy smile.
Casey nodded, hands fisting on the tabletop.
“Okay. Uh, well, I was gonna say that, uh, if you don’t have anywhere else, you can stay here for now. I work night shifts so you’d have the bed to yourself most nights anyway. If you’re comfortable with that, of course, like, no pressure.”
I’d like that, Casey signed with a faint smile. Gonna look for work and an apartment ASAP.
“You’re good with cars, right?”
Casey hummed.
“I know Joe’s looking for an extra hand to help him down at his mechanic shop. His son’s off to college in a couple of weeks, so he’ll need someone to replace him.”
Casey practically lit up like a Christmas tree at the suggestion, Dave chuckling at the boyish expression. Cars were always the one tried-and-true topic Dave could turn to if he wanted to get Casey talking. He knew next to nothing about it all, seeing as he legally wasn’t allowed to drive with the meds he was on, but it was still hypnotising watching Casey describe it all with his hands.
It’s just as hypnotic now, listening to his soft, rasping voice intermixed with the occasional bit of signing, casual chatter filling their afternoon. Mostly playing catch-up on what all has happened in the time they were apart. Casey’s stint as a taxi and limo driver, working at various mechanic shops, even doing a few drag races here and there for the extra cash. Dave’s slightly less exciting work as a night guard, the trouble he and Matteo always manage to get up to anyway, and how he’s been seriously considering getting a dog.
Before Dave knew it, it was time to get ready for his shift at Dexalabs. He cobbled together a quick dinner and slipped into his uniform, and didn’t miss the subtle once-over Casey gave him before they walked down to the Malibu, still parked in the lot.
The engine purred softer than a kitten, and Casey drove like they were floating on clouds. Dave’s never been one for falling asleep in cars, but if Casey was driving, he just might manage it.
They’re maybe ten minutes out when Dave bit the bullet and carefully rested his hand over Casey’s where it rested on the gearshift. Casey easily shifted his grip, letting their fingers intertwine like they were always meant to. It felt right. It felt safe.
It’s almost scary how easy it was.
“Matteo will drop me off,” Dave assured when Casey offered to come pick him up at six. “You deserve the rest.” Plus, Dave maybe liked the idea of being able to arrive home to the sight of Casey curled up amongst his cream and navy sheets. Of the possibility of slipping in beside him like they used to when they were kids.
Casey didn’t argue, wishing Dave a good shift before pulling away.
Matteo had a million questions, of course, none of which Dave was willing to answer. Not unless he wanted to explain it all, which he really, really didn’t.
For now, all Matteo needed to know was that an old friend was staying at Dave’s place until he got back on his feet.
“Uh huh, well tell him I wanna talk cars, cause that Malibu looked fine,” Matteo quipped, thankfully leaving it at that.
Somehow the hours simultaneously moved slower than molasses and yet quick as a blink. All too soon, Dave was hitching a ride back to his complex with a chatty Matteo, the two making potential plans for the weekend as they were wont to do.
The morning air was already balmy, promising a sweltering late summer’s day. But Dave didn’t care. All that mattered was what was potentially waiting for him behind his apartment door.
He’d spotted the silver Malibu in the parking lot and saw Casey’s shoes neatly lined beside his own in the foyer, which boded well.
Tiptoeing quietly through the apartment, Dave cracked open the bedroom door. His imagination paled compared to the real thing.
Casey was curled up on his side, leaving a distinct Dave-shaped space on the other side of the bed. He’d changed into a soft cotton tee, a little stretched out around the collar and providing a delectable peek at his collarbones. The hem was hiked up around his hip where the sheets had been kicked low, showing off the dark beauty mark on his lower back that had haunted Dave’s fantasies long before they’d shared their first kiss.
Dave had wanted to kiss it so badly the first time he spotted it. That need hadn’t faded in the slightest upon its return. But still, Dave refrained.
Instead, he moved quietly about the room, shucking off the stiff dress pants and shirt of his uniform to change into some shorts and a muscle tee. Usually he slept shirtless but that seemed a little fast all things considered.
He tried to be as careful as possible not to wake Casey, but the second he placed his knee on the mattress, Casey’s eyes shot open, almost neon in the low light of the room.
“Just me,” Dave whispered, waiting, perched on the edge of the mattress for Casey to untense.
Casey offered a lazy salute in greeting before shuffling back, giving Dave more room to slide in.
“You can stay,” Dave assured as he lay down. He held his breath as Casey contemplated. Breathed a sigh of relief when the distance was closed once more, their knees brushing beneath the sleep-warmed sheets, hands meeting in the middle like magnets.
With his free hand, Casey gestured to Dave, then finger-spelt O.K. with a questioning head tilt.
I’m good, Dave signed back. You?
Casey nodded, gaze dipping to the side as he ducked his head shyly into the pillow. Just like he did back then. It took everything in Dave’s power not to lean in and steal a kiss then and there.
Slowly. Go slowly, he reminded himself.
But then Casey twisted his head, still half-tucked demurely into the pillow. His wheat-field strands were a complete bird’s nest, and there was still a sleepy glaze to his deep-set eyes. Pink bloomed across what was visible of his cheeks and the tips of his ears as he reached out and fingered Dave’s left earlobe.
It took Dave a second to realise what he was asking, so lost in the sensation as he was.
“Oh, the hole’s still there. I just don’t really wear earrings anymore.”
Casey hummed, fingertip tracing the outline of Dave’s ear, causing a shiver to trickle down his spine like cascading scales on a piano’s keys.
The glaze was gone from Casey’s eyes, leaving them clear and bright. His finger shifted away from Dave’s ear, following the angle of his jaw. It caught on the rasping stubble of his beard, and Dave had to fight back a chuckle. Casey’s smile said he wasn’t all that successful.
The finger continued its winding path, trailing up to Dave’s angular eyebrows, down the slope of his nose, barely brushing the fan of his eyelashes. It took achingly long for Casey to bring it to Dave’s lips.
The touch was barely-there, a mere suggestion more than anything. Impatient, Dave tilted his chin up, pressing his lips fully to the pad of Casey’s finger in a faint peck.
They both froze at the contact.
Casey’s eyes darted over Dave’s face, up to his eyes, down to his lips, back up again. Dave’s did the same dance, neither of them saying anything for a terrifyingly long moment.
Casey shifted closer first, knee bumping against Dave’s thigh, but Dave didn’t care because there were scant few inches between them now, and if Casey didn’t close the distance soon, Dave surely would.
May I kiss you? Casey signed one-handed.
Dave nodded, eyes already fluttering shut by the time Casey was leaning in. Their lips slotted together in a closed-mouth kiss. It was sweet, almost innocent in how little it demanded.
More than a fresh beginning, it felt like a welcome home.
Breathing deeply through his nose, Dave could smell that buttery leather and motor oil scent that clung to Casey wherever he went. He breathed it in like ambrosia as he tilted his head just so, hand cupping Casey’s jaw to keep him close as he went for a deeper kiss.
Casey hummed in surprise, but he didn’t pull away. If anything, he shuffled closer, legs properly threading with Dave’s own.
Dave groaned when he realised that Casey’s legs were bare, only the thin cotton of his briefs covering him below the waist. They were long and lithe, easy to trap between the thicker muscle of his own legs, not that Casey seemed to mind. His hand hooked around Dave’s waist, gave an encouraging tug, and that was all the hint Dave needed to slide on top of him, Casey’s hands so careful and yet equally strong where they held onto his hips.
“Thought we said slow,” Dave teased between kisses.
“We can stop, if you want,” Casey replied breathlessly. And Dave sincerely believed him. Dave could banish him to the couch, and Casey wouldn’t even put up a fight about it.
But that was the last thing that Dave wanted. Not with Casey so pliant and sweet beneath him, his to ravish and lavish upon as he saw fit.
“Just kissing,” Dave decided. “No funny business. Not until the third date at least.”
Deal, Casey signed, smile wide and boyish. And Dave couldn’t not kiss those lips, sample a taste of that smile against his own.
They kissed for what felt like hours, one occasionally rolling over so the other could take control. It was more like play wrestling with the added benefit of kisses for the winner than anything, and Dave couldn’t get enough of it. By the sound of Casey’s happy little hums and sighs, Dave guessed he felt the same.
It was only when he yawned for the third time in Casey’s face that they finally slowed down.
“You need sleep,” Casey murmured, already bundling Dave up in his arms, hugging him from behind just like he used to all those years ago.
“I’ll probably have a nightmare,” Dave warned.
“You sleep, I’ll keep watch,” Casey replied, undeterred.
The words were like a benediction.
“Thank you,” Dave murmured, his words already beginning to slur with sleep. “For staying.”
Warm lips pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck, strong arms holding him tightly. “Thank you for letting me.”
And for the first time in a very, very long time, Dave fell into a dreamless sleep, safe and warm in the arms of his protector.
