Chapter 7

Brody's eyes fluttered open to the gray light of dawn sneaking through the blinds. Beside him, Josiah lay in a tangle of sheets, his blond hair splayed across the pillow, a serene expression smoothing the usual playful spark from his features—not that he'd seen much of that spark last night. Brody propped himself on one elbow, taking in the sight of Josiah's peaceful slumber. A wave of tenderness washed over him, mingling with an undercurrent of worry that tightened his chest.

He brushed a stray lock of hair from Josiah's forehead. The quietness of the moment felt almost sacred, a stark contrast to the chaos from the night before. Elya's message that Josiah was heartbroken had been an understatement, and the guilt was real.

Brody had caused this. His abrupt decision had impacted Josiah in ways Brody had never expected, and his boy had suffered. Now, all Brody wanted to do was make it up to him. Because Josiah was his. If nothing else, that truth had hit home the night before when he'd seen him again. Even with his pretty blue eyes clouded with distress, his makeup smeared, and the disheveled clothing clinging to his slim figure, he'd been the most beautiful sight Brody had ever seen.

But if they wanted a future together, Brody needed to be honest with Josiah. He couldn't tell him much, but the boy deserved to know the truth, if only because it would help him understand why Brody had thought it better to walk away.

As he watched Josiah, the rise and fall of his chest rhythmic and reassuring, the protective instincts of his inner Dom stirred. It wasn't just about control or guidance for him. It was the innate desire to nurture, mend what was broken, and bolster what was weak until strength returned. Josiah might be a flirty, outgoing soul who could command any room with his charm, but beneath that veneer of confidence lay a fragility that resonated with Brody's concealed scars.

The quiet hum of the city waking up filtered through the window, but in the cocoon of Josiah's bedroom, none of that mattered. This was their sanctuary, a place where Brody could care for Josiah without the outside world interfering with its relentless demands. And he knew where to start. Josiah's roommate had already left—the unfamiliar sound of the door clicking shut had awoken Brody—and Brody's hands itched to create order in the chaos he'd found.

Brody slid from the bed, his gaze lingering on Josiah's serene expression for an instant longer as he got dressed. The sunlight spilled across the boy's tousled hair and painted a warm glow on Josiah's delicate features. A deep warmth filled Brody. He'd take care of Josiah. He'd help the boy find his way back again. And he'd damn well make sure Josiah would never question his self-worth again.

By the time Josiah padded into the kitchen, looking adorably crumpled, Brody had unpacked and loaded the dishwasher, thrown out all the expired food from the fridge, cleaned the kitchen, and had breakfast ready for his boy. Unfortunately, it was another omelet, but since the fridge was empty aside from some eggs, a few tomatoes, and a bag of half-wilted spinach, he'd had little choice. In the back, he'd found some cheddar cheese, so at least the result would have some flavor.

"You didn't have to do this," Josiah murmured, eyes wide as he took in the clean kitchen.

"Good morning, baby boy." Brody ignored Josiah's remark. "Can I get a kiss?"

Josiah rushed over and offered his mouth. Brody kissed him softly. "Did you sleep well?"

"I was out like a light."

"Good. It looked like you needed it." Like you needed me, he wanted to add but didn't. No matter how much he wanted to help or even take over, he had to take things one step at a time.

"Sit down. Eat up." Brody gestured to the chair. "You need a good start to the day."

They settled into their seats, the clink of cutlery against plates filling the silence. The coffee machine purred as Brody made them both a fresh cup. "I used whatever I could find in the fridge, so it may have been your roommate's."

Josiah shook his head. "He doesn't eat here. He works at a diner and always brings food home for himself."

The expired food had been Josiah's, then. It all added to the picture that was forming, one that spoke of complete disarray.

"How's your shop been doing?" he asked.

Josiah cringed. "Not so good."

"What happened?"

"I was…" He made a helpless gesture. "I haven't even opened my email in, like, two weeks."

"How about you start tackling that after breakfast while I clean some more?"

Josiah bit his lip. "I can't… You don't have to do this. It's my mess. I should fix it."

"What if I want to help you? What if nothing would make me happier right now than taking care of you?"

Josiah swallowed. "Is that the truth? Or are you just saying that to make me feel better?"

Brody took his hand. "I've hurt you with how I left, and I'll never be able to tell you how sorry I am for that. But I haven't lied to you. I may not have told you the truth, but I didn't lie. And I promise going forward, I'll always be honest with you."

"So you mean it? Everything you said?"

"About missing you and wanting another chance? Yes. With all my heart. And I do want to help you get back on your feet."

"Even if that includes cleaning up my mess?"

"You mean the mess I caused? This is all on me, baby boy, so yes, let me help fix what I broke. I want you to trust me and lean on me."

Josiah slowly chewed, then nodded. "Okay."

"Thank you."

A few minutes later, Brody collected the breakfast dishes while Josiah sat at the small kitchen table, his laptop open before him, the blue glow reflecting in his wide eyes as he scrolled through his messages. "I have over two hundred emails to answer. Where do I even start?"

"I'd begin with the oldest messages and work my way up. If they placed an order, you'll have to process them in the correct order."

"Right." Josiah took a deep breath and dove in.

The bedroom was littered with fabric and things Josiah used to make his creations, but also with heaps of clothes carelessly thrown onto the floor, stacks of books, and junk everywhere. Brody set to work, gathering discarded clothes and throwing them into a hamper, aligning shoes by the closet. He'd have to run a few loads of laundry. Maybe he should make a grocery list and get some fresh food. Lord knew he couldn't eat another omelet for lunch.

As Brody hauled trash from Josiah's room, wincing at the smell, Josiah's fingers tapped rapidly.

"How's it going?" Brody filled a bucket with soapy water in the kitchen.

"Slow. How do I explain the delay without lying?"

"Just say that personal circumstances forced you to take some time off but that you're back now and will do your best to catch up on orders as quickly as possible."

"Personal circumstances." Josiah typed something. "I like that. It's not a lie, but it's also not oversharing."

"Exactly. It's so broad it covers a wide range of stuff, but it's also hard to argue with."

As he organized, Brody learned more about Josiah—the books on his nightstand whispered tales of late-night crime show marathons, and the care with which he preserved his crafting tools spoke of dedication and passion. The half-finished purses on his sewing table were extraordinary, showing his creativity and expertise.

Every so many minutes, he checked in with Josiah. The tension that had carved lines into his pretty face ebbed away with each resolved query.

Brody fluffed pillows, swept away dust, and opened a window to invite fresh air to swirl through the room, chasing away any lingering smells. When he stepped back, the transformation was clear. The room now held the same warmth and comfort Brody hoped to bring to Josiah's life.

He returned to the kitchen. Josiah was stretching, the weight visibly lifted from his slender shoulders.

"Come see your room." Brody beckoned, a quiet pride swelling in his chest.

Josiah followed him eagerly. He slapped a hand over his mouth as he took it all in. "Wow. It looks amazing. I don't think it has been this neat and clean since I moved in."

"It was truly my pleasure."

"Thank you," Josiah whispered, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "You're making it easier to breathe."

He stepped closer, and Brody opened his arms automatically and drew him close to his chest. How he had longed to hold him again. He'd never been a super strict Dom, and he definitely wasn't a sadist, but the softness he felt for Josiah was an altogether new experience. Was it because, for the first time, his heart was involved? He'd always cared about the subs he'd played with, but never like this. He'd never wanted to bubble-wrap them and keep them safe.

The Instacart order arrived right on time, and Brody made Caesar wraps for lunch with crisp lettuce, strips of juicy grilled chicken, and soft tortillas. He added some sautéed garlic and, of course, a Caesar dressing. Josiah gobbled it up, leaving nothing but crumbs on his plate.

"Good boy," Brody said, and pure joy exploded on Josiah's face. How his boy needed that praise.

After lunch, Josiah sat behind his sewing table while Brody found a spot at the small desk in Josiah's room where he could keep an eye on him while pretending to get some work done. When he was in the zone, Josiah was fully focused. His tongue peeped between his lips as he painstakingly stitched a gorgeous blue purse, adding sequins until it shimmered in every way. Brody couldn't take his eyes off him.

It hadn't escaped his notice that Josiah no longer called him Sir. He didn't call Brody anything, deftly evading saying his name. He'd have to earn that privilege back.

"Thank you for everything," Josiah said over dinner, a hearty lasagna that Brody had stuffed with vegetables.

"No need to thank me."

"But there is. You've done so much today. I don't know how to repay you."

"Repay me?" Brody shook his head. "The whole reason you were in such a state was me. I caused this. Fixing this was the least I could do."

"I don't want you to feel guilty."

Brody took his hand and pressed a kiss on it. "I should feel guilty, baby boy. I hurt you."

"Yes, but I don't want you to be here out of guilt."

Ah, now Brody understood. "I do feel guilty and like I owe you, but that's not why I'm here, and it's not why I'm helping you."

"No?" The hope in that one word pierced Brody's heart.

"I'm here because we had something special I hope to salvage. I'm here because I care about you, and seeing you again has only confirmed that. I'm here because there's nowhere else I'd rather be. I want to do this. Taking care of you… feels right."

Josiah crossed his arms, the gesture more self-protective than defiant. "But I can take care of myself. You don't need to?—"

"It's not about needing to. It's about wanting to. Being with you makes me happy." He brushed a stray lock of hair from Josiah's forehead. The touch lingered, a silent affirmation of the words left unspoken.

Josiah's eyes shone, vulnerability flickering within their depths. "You make it sound so simple."

"Sometimes the simplest things are the most profound." Brody leaned in, just a breath away, not to invade Josiah's space but to share it. "And when it comes down to it, I love taking care of you."

The surrender in Josiah's sigh was almost imperceptible, but it resonated through Brody. "You're overwhelming, you know that?" Josiah said, but the warmth in his voice belied any frustration. "But I'm so grateful. I… I can feel myself getting better, like I'm waking up from a long sleep. And it's because of you."

At those words, Brody's heart swelled with a mixture of pride and tenderness. This was more than he had hoped for. It was confirmation that the seeds of healing were taking root. "That makes me so happy." He patted his lap. "Wanna come sit with me for a spell?"

Josiah jumped up and parked himself on Brody's thighs, burying his head against Brody's shoulder. His warm breath drifted over Brody's skin, and a deep sense of rightness took hold inside him. This was where he was supposed to be, with his boy on his lap.

"I've never had someone who wanted to take care of me for no reason other than… wanting me," Josiah whispered with a vulnerability that tugged at Brody's protective instincts.

"You're so special. You deserve to be treasured, even spoiled a little."

Josiah leaned back, and their eyes met. Brody cupped Josiah's face gently, thumbs caressing those high cheekbones, and leaned in. Their lips met in a tender union, hesitant at first, like the softest whisper against skin. But the hesitancy soon gave way to a burgeoning need, each kiss deepening, becoming more insistent. Josiah clenched Brody's shoulders, holding on as if anchoring himself.

The kiss was a revelation, fanning a fire smoldering between them from the moment they'd met. It spoke of promises yet to be uttered, of nights wrapped in each other's arms, of trust being rebuilt. Their tongues tangled, exploring the terrain of each other's mouths with an eagerness that left them both breathless.

Josiah broke off the kiss, meeting Brody's eyes. "Will you take me to bed?"