Chapter 10 The Turning Point

Three Months Later

He winced as he collected his belongings from the grimy counter in the small, suffocating room of the city jail. The sharp ache in his ribs nagged constantly at his memory of the beatings Brently's goons had visited upon him. To break him without leaving too many visible marks, but he hadn't given them the satisfaction. But now, as he slipped his watch onto his wrist, the dull pain flared with every movement, he could not help but feel the weight of every day he had spent in this hellhole.

The sunlight hit hard as he stepped outside, forcing his eyes to squint against its blinding brightness. He had spent most of his time locked away in solitary. A punishment delivered for the supposed safety from other prisoners. But the well-paid guards of Brently had found him there, too, their fists and boots carrying out his unspoken orders. He had chosen to stay quiet, enduring the attack, and this experience should have changed him, but it didn't.

Apollo strolled onto the badly cracked pavement, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the empty parking lot. The sound of Rafael's official truck grew louder as it slowly approached, its tires rolling steadily on the pavement. It was a given that Rafael would be present. He had hoped that he could simply board the bus without running into Rafael beforehand and be on his way back home to Ares.

He had spent what seemed like an eternity in solitary; the hours dragging on painfully as his mind wandered. While reflecting on the past, Apollo finally connected the dots and reconstructed the timeline of Rafael's affair—a truth that Apollo had suspected but never solidified. And that was stomach-churningly offending for him to think about. After all, Rafael's cruelty had left him desperate for escape, like a drowning man gasping for air, desperately clawing at the fragments of his shattered identity.

A cop truck rolled to a stop beside him, and Rafael leaned out the window, his voice gentle. But with that edge of command, Apollo had once found impossible to turn down.

"Get in the vehicle, Apollo. Stubborn pride has never really been your thing."

He came to a full stop, his gaze locking onto Rafael with a ferocity that spoke of storms barely held at bay. He let the silence hang in the air, thick with tension, before uttering.

"Fuck you," Apollo spat out, his voice rough and cold, trying to cut through the space between them. But he didn't flinch, didn't react. He just stared, his expression unreadable, letting the weight of his presence press down on Rafael like a boulder.

"Was any of it real, Rafael?" Apollo pressed out. "Or was I just another one of your toys?"

Rafael lifted his eyes upward to the sky, with an expression signifying impatience and exasperation. "Being needy has never suited you. Stop acting like some kind of entitled brat," he added, his voice sharp. "You knew who I was from the start, anyway I gave you everything you wanted."

As Apollo held onto the edge of the truck door, his knuckles grew white from the pressure. "Yeah, you did, Rafael." Like sharp fragments of glass, bitter resentment seeped into every word as it left his lips.

The smooth fa?ade split a little as Rafael's jaw flexed. Apollo recognized the shift in emotions—he had pushed Rafael too far. But instead of an outburst, Rafael kept his voice calm and collected, even as the tension between them hung thick.

"Get in the vehicle, Apollo," he ordered, his voice a low, menacing growl. "Don't make me hogtie your ass and have you ride like that for two hours back to Foggy Basin. I'll do it,too."

Sitting in the confines of the vehicle, the metal frame seemed to vibrate under the weight of his pent-up frustration. The force with which he had slammed the door echoed his internal turmoil, shaking the entire vehicle in its wake.

"Put your seat belt on," he ordered, as Rafael brushed into him, dismissing the space Apollo held firm, with an unsettling touch that lingered just a beat too long. He leaned in closer, his hot breath suffocating Apollo's senses, his words bristling with aggressive innuendo, feeding Apollo's growing discomfort. "Go on," Rafael hummed, his voice thick with contempt. "Ask me about Brently. You know you want to."

He forcefully ripped the seatbelt out of Rafael's hand. "You and Brently deserve each other. I frankly don't give a fuck."

"You give a fuck, and you better behave. I can put you right back in and you won't get to see your pretty man for another six months," he countered, his voice filled with a pensive sigh, his gaze dropping to Apollo's lips, as he went on, "Says the man who's always had that taste for danger and my particular brand of discipline. It's why you fell for me in the first place, you remember? I told you who I was back then. You are the one who changed. I never lied to you." Rafael leaned back in his seat and started the engine.

Apollo locked eyes on Rafael and spoke calmly but decisively. "I have changed, Rafael. Because, you see, I finally understood that what I need, what I deserve, is a relationship based on honesty, not manipulation. I couldn't take it anymore —the games, the lies. True inner strength belongs to the one who can keep everything transparent and out in the open."

For a split second, Rafael's sneer wavered before he leaned forward again, as if he could still bridge the gulf of years between them, reaching out intimately. He oozed condescension.

"You always were one for fairy tales, Apollo. But let's be real—people like us, we don't do ‘honest.' We do power, control. That's how the world works."

"Maybe that's how you work, Rafael. But I'm not you. Not anymore. I've chosen a different way—one where I don't have to look over my shoulder, waiting for the next knife in my back. One where loyalty and affection matter. One where love is its own reward. I won't play your game anymore."

His smile stretched taut, but Apollo could see the cracks forming, the light that peeled its way through the fa?ade around Rafael. He'd been subtle in his expression of a man used to getting feared, if not anywhere else, then certainly here, with him.

"And you think you can just walk away from all of it after everything we've been through? Well, let's just say everything?"

Apollo's face turned stony. The statement said with pure finality. "I already have."

While the miles passed in silence, his mind couldn't help but return to Ares. A wave of intense emotions surged inside him. Consumed by a sense of despair, he desperately clung to the dwindling hope that Ares had stayed because he cherished their homestead and the idea of them. Despite all the events, distance, and pain, Apollo was certain that Ares was his everything.

Finally, they reached Foggy Basin. With a wide smile, Apollo eagerly unbuckled his seat belt and swung the truck door open, feeling the fresh mountain air fill him with an exhilarating sense of freedom.

Apollo didn't turn around to thank Rafael. There was no need for him to say anything. He walked off towards the cabin, his steps determined, conveying his determination and finality in ending this chapter of his life. However, just as he reached the front door, he spoke loudly and determined, "I never want to see you again. This has been over and it will remain over. Never bother us again."

"Have it your way, but don't fucking come crawling back to me," he replied stoically, void of emotion. "But remember, Apollo, you're the one that left. You're the one that made that choice." And with that, he sped off, kicking dirt and gravel in his wake.

A sense of peace entered him. This would be the last time Rafael would ever bother Apollo and Ares. Like a promise etched in his bones. As he continued inside, closing the past and opening a new future.

Here's a condensed version of the passage, maintaining the focus on the tender moments, the intimacy of the cabin, and the loving relationship between Apollo and Ares.

***

∞∞∞

The welcoming smell of pine and wood greeted Apollo as he stepped into the cabin. The space was cozy, filled with familiar memories that tugged at his heart, offering both comfort and relief. This was home. The tension that had coiled tightly in his chest unwound, and for the first time in weeks, he could almost breathe.

As Apollo moved through the cabin, he noticed the subtle changes. A woven blanket with rich earth tones draped over the back of the sofa—Ares's touch. Fresh wildflowers in a simple vase brightened the dining table. Books stacked neatly on the coffee table, some titles unfamiliar. A small collection of Ares's sketches, including an unfinished drawing of the cabin itself, adorned the kitchen wall. Each detail painted a picture of the life Ares had built here, making the cabin not just a place, but their home.

He wandered through the cabin, his bare feet whispering across the wooden floor, but the bedrooms were empty. A flicker of disappointment gave way to curiosity. Where was Ares?

Stepping outside, Apollo made his way toward the bee colony behind the cabin. His breath caught as he saw Ares standing among the wildflowers, his back turned. There was a softness to Ares now, a quiet contentment that filled Apollo's heart with love so strong it ached. This was paradise.

Apollo sat down on the soft grass, his eyes never leaving Ares. The wild scenery surrounded them, the vibrant colors of the flowers, the gentle hum of the bees, and the sun filtering through the trees. It was all so beautiful, so perfect, it all seemed like a dream.

When Ares finally noticed him, his face lit up with a wide, genuine smile that took Apollo's breath away. Ares hesitated for a moment before walking toward him, his steps cautious. But Apollo wasn't hesitant. Not anymore.

Apollo stood, closing the distance between them, and pulled Ares into his arms. It wasn't just a reunion—it was a declaration. The familiar scent of wildflowers and honey clung to Ares's hair as Apollo inhaled deeply, letting it wash away the darkness of the past weeks.

Ares clutched at Apollo's shirt, as if anchoring himself, and they stood there, the world fading away as their breathing synchronized. For the first time in a long while, Apollo felt a deep, quiet peace, with something primal and simmering just beneath the surface.

"I was so scared, I couldn't get anyone to give me a ride and no one in the state" Ares whispered, his voice trembling. "That you would blame me for—"

"Shhh…I could never blame you. I just wanted to come home to you." Apollo pulled back slightly to meet Ares's gaze, his voice husky with emotion.

"I tried calling, seeing you, even wrote some letters. No one would help me. They said you were in solitary. I'm sorry—" Ares appealed, but there was nothing Ares needed to feel guilt for.

"I am back at our home. It's over. I belong to you, forever, if you will have me," he declared, his thumb brushing gently along Ares's cheek. "I know what I want. And what I want is right here." He tangled his fingers in Ares's curls, drawing him closer.

Their lips met in a kiss that was both a demand and a promise, slow and deliberate. Tension mounted in Ares, the way his body instinctively leaned into the kiss, asking for more without words. But Apollo held back, savoring the anticipation, wanting to make Ares feel every moment, every touch.

When the kiss finally ended, Apollo undressed Ares with the same meticulous care as he approached everything else. Apollo removed each piece of clothing slowly, almost reverently, until there was nothing left but the warmth of their skin and the connection between them. The world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them in their own private universe.

Apollo's hands roamed over Ares's firm yet gentle, exploring every curve and dip with admiration. Ares responded with a pleading expression. His body quivered as he surrendered himself wholly, his trust a last resort in the face of passion.

"Tell me you want me, that you want this," Apollo pleaded, his voice raw yet tender.

Apollo's lips traced a path down Ares's shoulders. Each nibble sent shivers down Ares's spine, igniting a fire within him. His breath became increasingly unsteady, mirroring the intensity of the moment.

As their connection deepened, Ares's grip on Apollo's shoulders tightened, his fingers digging into the firm flesh. The sensation of their bodies pressed together, skin against skin, fueled the raw hunger coursing through their veins. Heat radiated from Ares body, as they laid down.

Ares's breath was unsteady as he tightened his grip on Apollo's shoulders. "You," he breathed. "Just you."

Satisfaction darkened Apollo's gaze as his hand slid lower, teasing Ares with the promise of more. "Good," he moaned, his lips caressing Ares's ear. "Then do as I say."

Ares shivered in anticipation, his eyes half-lidded as he kneeled before Apollo, a mixture of reverence and need in his gaze. The act sent a surge of possessive pleasure through Apollo, but he kept his touch gentle, wanting to make this moment unforgettable.

As Ares looked up at him, his gaze full of trust, Apollo's heart swelled with a fierce, protective love. He cupped Ares's face, his thumb brushing over his lips before tracing the line of his jaw down to the pulse that beat steadily beneath his skin.

Apollo whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Take your time."

The world around them blurred, leaving only the two of them bound by the love they had found and fought for. The devotion they shared was more than just bodily; it was a communion of souls, a bond that was unbreakable.

When it was over, and the world slowly came back into focus, Apollo looked down at Ares, his chest tight with emotion. Ares's gaze was soft, his eyes filled with a quiet satisfaction that made Apollo's heart ache with love.

"You're mine," Apollo exhaled, his voice rough with possession and something deeper, something that had been building between them since that very first night.

"And you're everything," Ares acknowledged, his voice trembling with emotion as he reached up to touch Apollo's face.

They lay together in the soft grass, the world around them coming back to life with the gentle sway of wildflowers and the hum of bees. But none of it mattered. They had each other, and that was enough.

Apollo planted a soft kiss on Ares's forehead, his heart full. This was what he had been searching for, what he had missed for so long—a genuine connection built on trust and love.

Ares curled into him, resting his head on Apollo's chest, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on his skin. There was a peace in Ares's eyes, a contentment that came from knowing they had fought for this and won.

"I love you," Ares whispered, his voice soft and reverent.

Apollo beamed, his hand gliding through Ares's silky hair with pure delight, a radiant warmth spreading through his entire being. "And I love you."