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Friday, September 3, 2010

The Beginning - Shiloh and Ryder




Shiloh
 


            He began to notice little nuances that he hadn’t before shortly after they moved in together.

Shiloh had always been abysmally shy, quiet to the point he might disappear into a crowd if Aaron parted with him and not be found again until after nearly half an hour of searching. Aaron had never heard him raise his voice for any matter; he spoke in a quiet tone and he appreciated when others did as well. If you were lucky enough that he spoke to you at all, Aaron noticed, then it was done in quiet, polite tones with little emotion shown. Of course with Aaron this wasn’t the case – he was full of emotion around Aaron. But with others he was most often reserved to the point of muteness.

He rarely made eye contact with those he was conversing with, looking past them or over their shoulder as he talked. When Aaron reminded him once that it was polite to meet someone’s eyes when they spoke to you, he had looked like a spooked horse and had nodded obediently but still refused to meet the man’s eyes. 

            He didn’t like crowds – shopping malls, grocery stores, rallies that Aaron tried to drag him to. They made him visibly cringe and he couldn’t focus on any one thing. He abhorred any commotion or incessant noise, like a gaggle of children yelling in the street playing at some game or the sound of the faucet dripping. He would clutch at Aaron’s hand or he would clench his jaw and force himself not to cover his ears in public, though Aaron had seen him do it in private on a number of occasions.

            Shiloh also tended to obsess over certain things. He was especially interested in anything mechanical that he could take apart and put back together, such as watches, old computers, phones and motorcycles. He loved trains and he had the daily timetables memorized for their local commuter train, even though neither of them took the train to work. He sometimes tapped his fingers when things got too loud or there were too many things happening at once, and a few times Aaron had seen him rocking himself in a bid to calm down.

            He had at first thought perhaps the boy had some sort of general anxiety that came out in obsessive or compulsive ways. He kept an eye on it but never brought it up, unsure how Shiloh would react to his suggestion to see a counselor. As their relationship lengthened, however, Aaron found himself rather more curious than concerned – there were times he could see how visibly upset his partner was but he did not know how to help him deal with things.

            It was nearly a year into their relationship before he understood what it was. A friend of his was telling him about his nephew’s recent diagnosis and every detail Beau explained to him fit Shiloh to a t. The shyness, not wanting to be touched, the inability to make eye contact or maintain relationships outside of theirs, the obsessions with seemingly random things like the train schedule. Everything fit.

            When he had Shiloh alone one night on the couch with the boy leaning against his shoulder, he brought it up. Shiloh hadn’t been sure what he meant when he asked outright: have you ever been to see a therapist?

            “Like a psychologist?” he questioned, blinking; he tapped his fingers on his knee. Aaron hugged him hard for a moment and the tightness in his chest slackened a little. “U-uh, no? I don’t think I need to, Aaron. Do you?” Aaron could sense he was feeling trapped and he shook his head briefly, rubbing his palm up and down Shiloh’s arm.
           
            “No, no. I don’t think you need to, Shy. I just wondered.” His parents had died when he was young and he had spent a few years with his grandparents before they had put him into foster care, unable to handle him. He wondered now if that was due to the ways he had acted, rather than their excuse that they were too old to raise a child.
           
            “I did see a lady about my hearing?” Shiloh said eventually, quietly. “When I was seven? My grandfather claimed I must be deaf ‘cause I never listened to him,” he said. “But I just couldn’t make him understand he didn’t need to shout everything. It hurt when he yelled all the time. I didn’t know how to make it stop, so I just…I made my own noise to block him out.”

            Aaron nodded faintly, playing with a loose curl, twirling it between his thumb and forefinger as he listened to the boy. “There’s nothing whatsoever wrong with your hearing,” he agreed softly, and Shiloh smiled up at him.

“That’s what the hearing lady said too.”

“Will you tell me more?” Aaron asked. “What else bothered you, Shy? Or still bothers you?” he asked. Shiloh flushed, unsure he wanted his Top to know this stuff. But the open trust and acceptance that he saw in Aaron’s face made his heart race and any tightness that had lingered in his chest dissipated at the sight of those dark eyes looking so kind.

“I don’t like noise,” he muttered. “Sirens, the fire alarm, your car alarm? Why do they have to be so loud, Aaron?” He felt the man squeeze his shoulders and he looked up at him again.

“What does it feel like, Shy? When you hear them?”

The boy seemed to consider it and he winced as if drawing up the memory of an alarm was enough to make him feel ill. “It hurts my teeth,” he said. “If…if I had a cavity, it would hurt? It would be sensitive. It’s like that,” he tried to explain. Aaron thought he understood – like nails on a chalkboard; certain sounds made him feel that way too.

“Is it just loud noises that make your teeth hurt?” he asked gently, and Shiloh glanced up at him.

“N-no?”

“Tell me, Shy. I would like to know,” he said, gentle and low. Shiloh picked at a loose thread on his pajamas, keeping his head down.

“Towels. Those hand towels that don’t really dry anything properly? M-microfiber, I think? Wool. Yarn. Fleece – I hate fleece, please don’t ever buy me fleece anything, I’ll just die,” he said through gritted teeth, rocking himself a bit against Aaron’s side.

“Alright, okay babe. I’ll remember that,” he promised, hugging him tightly.

“Styrofoam, too. I don’t like those evil little packing peanuts. And… I really can’t stand it when you mow the lawn? Can you do it when I’m not home?”
Aaron smoothed his hand over his lover’s shoulders now; Shiloh had folded himself over his knees. He would do anything to relieve his lover of the things that bothered him.

“It has never been my intention to hurt you, Shy. I’m sorry I didn’t know this sooner; I never would have been this insensitive if I’d known,” he whispered. Shiloh nodded faintly, taking in a shaky breath.

“Why didn’t you tell me, darling?” he asked gently, watching the young man’s fists clench to stop his tapping. Aaron caught one of his hands. “If it helps, don’t stop yourself. I’m not judging you,” he soothed, feeling Shiloh’s minute tapping continue seconds later on his palm.

“I’m not a f-freak, Aaron. I wanted you to see me as normal,” he said, sounding miserable. “You would never have been with me this long if you knew. Everyone said, everyone always said. Nobody would be with me.”

Aaron shook his head fiercely. “No, that’s not true, Shiloh,” he said, but Shiloh went on.

“Someone like you? Successful, brave, smart – you’d never look twice at me if you had known. You would have patted me on the head and asked me who let me out of the institution,” he said with a hiss.

The anger in his lover’s voice made Aaron cringe. “Shiloh, please,” he said. “You know I’m not like that. You know I would never say anything of the sort.” He felt Shiloh’s shoulders slump under his hand.

“It took everything in me to let you touch me, Aaron – to hold your hand, to let you play with my hair. To look you in the eyes when you talked. Because you think it’s rude if I don’t, I know that. Because you’re such a gentleman and you have manners and its easy for you to do. It’s not hard now, not with you now,” he murmured. “But it was at first. It was. But I did it, because I can be normal,” he whispered. “I can be normal for you; I wanted you. I would have done anything for you, for you to notice me and want me too.”

Aaron’s heart broke. He had never known, never sensed it. His boy had done a very good job of hiding this from him. He had done all the things he thought he needed to in order for Aaron to believe he was normal, whatever that meant, despite how much it had hurt him to do so. He wondered sadly how often his boy’s teeth had hurt since they had been together.

He drew him over into his arms for a tight hug as he felt his own eyes begin to water.

“Oh Shiloh. My sweet boy,” he breathed, closing him in his arms in as tight a hug as he could manage, something he had always known went right through to Shiloh. He could feel the young man relaxing under his embrace and his racing heart began to slow once more. Shiloh twisted in his arms to get around, flinging his arms around Aaron’s neck to cling to him.

“I’ve got you, my boy. You tell me what you need and I will do anything,” he promised. “I will never use a towel again in my life if that’s what will help you – I’ll air dry every day,” he said, hearing Shiloh’s sobbing chuckle against his neck. He hugged him hard, trying to imprint the truth of his words into the boy’s bones.

“You are mine, kid, you got that? There is nothing whatsoever wrong with you and there never has been. You are strong and smart and sweet; you make every day worth living, my boy. Don’t you ever think I don’t love you and want you, Shiloh. I would choose you every time. Every damn time.”  It was said quietly, close to his partner’s ear.

Shiloh let out a gasp as he sobbed against his shoulder. He was making a horrible keening sound and Aaron held the back of his head and rocked, slowly and steadily, until it began to fade. Shiloh was clenching and unclenching his jaw, fists gripping and loosening on the back of his shirt where he clung to the bigger man. It was like a flood had been released and everything he had been holding back in the last year and a half was being let go. The rocking helped; Aaron felt his trembling diminish as he moved with him.

            “I-I’m sorry,” Shiloh wailed, feeling Aaron’s hands on his lower back. “I n-need help, I need your help.” Aaron gave him another bone-crushing hug and Shiloh sat back with a whine, letting Aaron wipe at his eyes as he bit into his wrist. It was an urge he had been holding in and Aaron watched him with his ever-kind eyes, concerned. He held out a hand, not forcing, and Shiloh shakily took it, relinquishing the impulse to bite for his Top’s protective grip instead.

            “I know this feels like the end of the world, Shiloh,” he whispered, gripping both of his hands now. “But it isn’t. Nothing has changed, nothing significant anyways. The only thing that will change now is how we handle this. I love you and I want you to be safe and comfortable, as often as I can make that happen. I know I won’t be able to all the time; I can’t control everything. But I will try for you. Please know I will always try my best.”

            Shiloh was sure Aaron didn’t have the capacity to lie; his face was so open, his eyes were always so honest. If you looked closely enough, you could see right down into his soul; he was pure and good and kind. He really was a gentleman. He found himself nodding, looking into his lover’s eyes, transfixed by him.

            “We can make this easier for you, my boy. I will make this easier for you,” he promised, kissing both of his palms. “You tell me when it’s getting to be too much, or when you need me to help you. Understood?”

            Shiloh nodded, believing him. He could picture his handsome firefighting Top, riding towards him on a white horse, sword wielded – coming to save him from the packing peanuts and the woolen sweaters and the microfiber dishcloths that gave him sensory overload.

            “I love you,” Shiloh whispered. “I love you, Aaron.”

            Nobody before had been willing to go to bat for him, to take on his social and personal issues caused by his Asperger’s and fight for him. He had heard people all his life, talking over him as if he didn’t understand – that he should be institutionalized, that he would never live a normal life, that he was an aberration. That nobody would ever love him.

            And here was Aaron, holding him with such strength, such feeling, who was unafraid to say he didn’t understand but he wanted to and it wouldn’t change how he felt in the slightest; that he wanted to help him. And he knew, he felt in his heart, that Aaron didn’t mean help heal him. He knew Aaron didn’t want to cure him, or help him cover it up now that his façade was slipping. No, Aaron wanted to help him make it easier to deal with things, to reduce the threats so he wouldn’t be uncomfortable.

            Because he loved him.

            Aaron was warm and strong as he drew him into his arms once more. Shiloh settled there, feeling his broad chest rise and fall. He was safe. The sense of relief he felt was immense.

Aaron was going to keep him safe.

It was surprising to Shiloh how quickly Aaron learned every trigger and tic and compulsion; it was also surprising how relieved he was to know he didn’t have to hide anymore, not with Aaron in control.

Aaron went through his closet and without even a second thought discarded every item that Shiloh so much as sneered at. The microfiber dishtowels disappeared too, along with some of the old raggedy towels that Aaron used to use for cleaning. Shiloh never heard the lawnmower but he would come home to the lawn freshly cut, something he appreciated.

Coming home from work one day, he was surprised to find that Aaron had installed a wooden swing on the wraparound porch. It was made of pretty red maple and it was suspended from the overhanging roof by thick chains. It swung slowly when he sat down to test it, and Shiloh found himself smiling as he slid his feet along the porch boards under him.

“Like it?” Aaron asked when he found Shiloh on the swing some time later. The boy had his feet tucked under himself and he accepted the cup of lemonade that Aaron handed him, shifting over a bit for his Top to join him.

“This is for me?” he asked quietly, blinking as he sipped the cold drink. Aaron touched his hair, tousling his curls. He smiled fondly at the wide-eyed look his lover was giving him. “Yes, I thought we could use a nice place to sit out here in the summer. I love swings,” he informed the boy.

Shiloh subsided into his side and he slid his arm around his shoulders, moving the swing slowly as Shiloh told him about his day at work. Any tension he had been holding began to slip away.

“Ryder and Duncan came to the shop today,” he whispered, arm slung over Aaron’s waist lazily. “Ryder’s got a new bike and his helmet matches it,” he explained, enjoying the feeling of being off the ground and swaying slowly. He nuzzled Aaron’s hand in his hair.

“He said maybe I could ride it one day, when I finish the customization. You think so? Can I ride with him?” he asked, hopeful.

“Of course, darling. If Ryder has another helmet, I don’t see why not. As long as he doesn’t try any tricks,” he added. He was busy twirling one loose curl around his fingers, enjoying how it became a small, perfect ringlet under his ministrations. He moved on to a different strand.

Shiloh pushed his head up against his hand and Aaron smiled, ruffling his hair like a dog. “Ryder’s nice,” Shiloh muttered. “He always says please and thank you to me. Duncan swears a lot,” he said, adjusting himself so he was lying with his head in Aaron’s lap. “They’re pretty nice. Ryder’s new bike is black, Aaron. He wants me to paint symbols and stuff, white and silver. Think that’s cool? I think that’s cool,” he shrugged.

Aaron rubbed his side. “Maybe you should ask if Ryder wants to hang out sometime?” It was just a quiet, inconspicuous suggestion. He felt the boy’s body tense under his hand and Shiloh shook his head against his lap.

“No, no Aaron. Ryder’s too cool. And he’s older than me.”

Aaron chuckled. “I’m older than you and I’m your friend!” he said, tickling the boy who let out a tiny squeal and elbowed him fiercely to get away. Aaron’s hand smoothed over the affected area apologetically.

“No. I’ll just paint his bike,” he decided, sighing softly as he sank back down to hug Aaron’s waist again. Aaron went on rocking slowly, unfazed, and told him about his day.


Ryder


Aaron was a bit surprised a week or so later when he came home to find there was a beautifully hand-painted Ninja in his driveway. He raised a brow as he parked alongside it and headed inside with the groceries.

“Shy? Can I get a hand?” he called softly. He heard the familiar sound of his brat coming in off the porch and the swing’s chains creaking as he left it.

            When he looked up, Shiloh gave him a small smile, abashed. Behind him came a dark-haired, tanned young man, a few years older than Shy, with a confident swagger. He flashed a handsome grin at Aaron and held a hand out, and Aaron shook it firmly.

            “You must be Ryder,” he greeted. “Nice bike, kid,” he said, and Ryder’s dark eyes twinkled.

            “Hey thanks. Nice to meet you, sir,” he said. “Shiloh’s only mentioned you a few dozen times,” he teased the young blond beside him. “Can I help you with those? Are there more in the car?” Ryder asked, peering around him.

            “Yes, a few. Shy can grab them for me,” he assured the newcomer, and Ryder flushed as the man’s gaze swept over him. Shiloh obediently went out to the car to get the groceries and Ryder, torn for a moment, turned and followed Aaron. Something about the man exuded command.

            “So, what do you do for a living, Ryder?” he asked as he began to put the groceries away. He appreciated that what he could see of the house was tidy enough to have a guest over, and he reminded himself to thank Shiloh for tidying when he got him alone.

            Ryder leaned against the counter across from Aaron, arms crossed. “I’m out of work right now, actually. Just uh, between jobs,” he said, sounding a bit uncertain of himself.

            “Ah. I know how that feels,” he said with a smile. “Something will come up sooner or later,” he said, sounding reassuring. Ryder matched his smile, only looking away when he heard Shiloh coming in with the bags.
           
            Aaron dropped a kiss on the blonde’s forehead when he passed him to put the milk away. “Have you tried out the bike, Shy?” he asked him, and Shiloh shook his head, looking back at Ryder, who was watching them curiously.

            “Can I?” he asked his Top, rising up on tiptoe, hand on his arm. “Ryder brought another helmet,” he told Aaron. He turned around to catch Ryder’s eyes.

            “You have your license, I’m sure?” he asked the young man. Ryder nodded quickly, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket to show him his card. “Yes sir, got it years ago! I wouldn’t ride without it,” he promised, hand on his chest in a solemn way, and Aaron found himself smiling at his gesture.

            “Alright. No tricks. To the end of the street and back,” he said, kissing Shiloh gently once more. The boy flashed a grin at Ryder and hurried to the foyer to pull his sneakers on; Ryder followed to pull his combats on.

            Aaron heard the rumble of the bike’s engine as Ryder revved unnecessarily and then the bike took off down the street. He glanced out the window to watch it go, pleased to see that when they reached the stop sign at the end of the road the young man turned back and drove it home.

            He was also pleased to see that Shiloh was laughing openly as the bike pulled back into their lane, his arms tight around Ryder’s waist, his chin on the young man’s shoulder.



He began to see a lot of Ryder, which he didn’t mind. His shifts varied week to week and he knew Shiloh didn’t like to be alone when he had to work – especially the weeks that he worked the night shift at the station. He was happy that his young lover had found a friend.

He leaned over the back of the couch to drop a kiss in Shiloh’s hair. “Have a good night, Shy. I’ve left money on the counter if you boys want to order a pizza or something,” he informed him, making Shiloh wriggle excitedly to get around to hug him properly. Ryder pumped the air with a fist.

“Ryder, I don’t mind if you stay the night but I expect Shiloh in bed at a decent hour,” he warned him, seemingly uncaring how silly it was to send a grown man to bed at a set time. But Aaron had a routine set with Shiloh that worked well and he didn’t want him to slip out of it.

Shiloh was a bit red, embarrassed, but he hugged his Top one more time and promised him he would go to bed on time before he shooed him away. Aaron took that as his cue to leave.

Shiloh flopped back down onto the couch with a grin at Ryder. “Sorry,” he said, motioning absently. “Aaron has a thing with sleep.” He ducked his head at the look Ryder was giving him, curls bouncing. Ryder grinned and sat back on the other end of the couch, stretching a leg out towards Shiloh.

“You got a new game, huh?” he asked. “How ‘bout I order that pizza and we play?”

When Aaron came home that morning at four, he snuck into the house as quietly as he could. He was very good at not waking Shiloh – he’d had lots of practice – but he had seen the bike out front and knew Ryder was still there.

He went through to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He could see Shiloh asleep on the couch, sprawled on his stomach in nothing but an oversized sweater, the blankets tangled around his legs. Across from him Ryder was asleep in the glider, still wearing his dark-washed jeans, his jacket thrown over his chest.

Aaron slipped silently into the living room, taking a throw blanket from the back of the couch. Despite his efforts, Ryder’s eyes flew open as he covered him with the soft blanket, and he motioned for him to keep quiet. He looked younger in his sleepy state and he noted the laugh lines around his eyes as Ryder took the edge of the blanket from Aaron with a smile.

“He didn’t want to sleep alone,” he whispered, peering over at the still-sleeping Shiloh. “He wouldn’t go up to bed, sir. I’m sorry.” He caught Aaron’s gaze and the older man returned his smile.

“He’s alright there; a night on the couch isn’t going to hurt him,” he said softly, gathering up the dishes on the coffee table. “Go back to sleep, kid. You’ve got a few hours before the sun is up,” he said, and Ryder didn’t take much more encouragement than that – his eyes closed and he sank down under the warm throw blanket.

By the time Aaron went up to bed, Ryder was snoring in the chair.


            “Aaron, can Ryder stay with us?” Shiloh asked one morning at breakfast. He was stirring his eggs on his plate absently but he took a bite when Aaron tapped the table in front of him warningly.

            “He hasn’t got anywhere to go? Duncan and Beau told him he couldn’t stay there forever. Well, I bet Duncan wouldn’t care, but Beau doesn’t like him living there,” he explained. This of course was all secondhand information, told to him by Ryder; and of course Shiloh took it as the absolute truth from his friend.

            “How long would he be staying, Shy?” Aaron asked as he placed the sausage that had mysteriously rolled under the edge of his plate back onto the boy’s plate with the other ones.

            Shiloh shrugged. “Uh, a couple of months maybe? Just until he gets on his feet, Aaron!” he explained. “He’s very neat and he always helps clean the dishes when he comes over, y’know. And we have the guest room but we never have guests; it’s just going to waste up there!”

            Aaron didn’t need much convincing. Something about the dark-haired boy pulled at every Top instinct he had; he was unable to say no to a brat in need.

            Ryder moved in a week later, bringing with him not much more than the clothes on his back, his bike and a few personal possessions. Shiloh “helped” him unpack upstairs in the guest room, stretched out on the bed watching Ryder fold his shirts and put them in the chest of drawers in the closet. Shiloh went through his stack of a dozen or so books, interested in an old copy of Frog and Toad.

            “Aaron reads this to me sometimes!” he told him, grinning as he flipped through to look at the familiar pictures. Ryder’s copy had coloured pictures, which intrigued him. Ryder watched him with a smirk.

            “Maybe I’ll read it to you sometime; I can do the voices,” he boasted.

 Shiloh looked up at him with his eyes wide, innocent as always. “Really?” he asked, propping himself up to put the books on the shelf by the bed neatly. “Aaron does them too; it's funny,” he said with a secret smile as he imagined Aaron and Ryder reading together, each of them performing the silly characters that he loved so much.

            Ryder sat down on the edge of the bed to collect up the last bits and pieces from his rucksack. Shiloh sat down close to him, much closer than most people would find comfortable, and peered into the bag with him.

            He put a small collection of rocks and stones on the nightstand along with an old silver pocket-watch that he told Shiloh he was not allowed to take apart. Shiloh nodded obediently, touching it only once before he turned his attention back to Ryder, who was pulling out the last items. He added an arrowhead and a silver ring to the stone pile and he slipped a colourful, woven bracelet onto his wrist. Then he shook out the bag to make sure he hadn’t missed anything, folded it up and went to tuck it away in the bottom drawer.

            “You don’t have a lot of stuff,” Shiloh said quietly, brow furrowed. Ryder’s room was almost Spartan in comparison to his! It didn’t seem to bother the young man, however, as he stretched by the bed and then dropped onto it to roll over and tickle Shiloh, eliciting the desired giggle.

            He stopped when he heard the knock at the open door, and he looked up with a grin at Aaron.
           
            “All settled in?” the man asked.

Ryder nodded, sitting up to ruffle Shiloh’s hair affectionately. “Yes sir, thank you.” Shiloh stretched out on the bed beside Ryder, who patted his hip absently. Neither one of them seemed to think it was out of the bounds of their friendship.

“I’d like to run our house rules over with you later, Ryder, when you have a moment,” Aaron informed him, and Ryder nodded eagerly. “We don’t have many, and they aren’t anything out of the ordinary,” he assured him with a smile. Ryder grinned up at him.

“Sweet. Thanks Aaron,” he said again, standing up and holding his hand out. Aaron gave him a quizzical look but clasped his hand firmly. He hesitated a second before he pulled the kid into a warm hug, clapping him on the back.

When he pulled back, Ryder flashed him a smile that wrinkled the corners of his eyes, flushed faintly. The effect made him look rather sheepish and five years younger. “I’ll let Shy show you where we keep towels and things. If you need anything, let me know.”


Ryder had been with them for almost three months – he was working odd jobs now, but still wasn’t ‘on his feet’ enough to move out on his own. He was quite comfortable in their home, and Aaron didn’t really mind the addition.

The first time Aaron really noticed it, he told himself he was imagining it. He walked into the living room to see Ryder, shirtless, in some sort of meditative pose on the carpeted floor and felt his heart quicken. Caught, he was unable to look away until Ryder’s eyes opened and he flashed his familiar grin at the man.

            Mortified, Aaron stammered an apology for interrupting his session and he hurried out of the room. He convinced himself he hadn’t been admiring the hard planes of muscle that had been the young man’s chest and shoulders or the way his long hair hung almost to the middle of his back when it wasn’t tied back in its usual way. He must have been walking quickly; that explained his fluttering heart.

            Only it kept happening and Aaron wasn’t able to quite convince himself it wasn’t real. He was able to keep the flush from his cheeks with an effort when Ryder would grin at him; he could get his heartbeat back to normal quickly enough after the young man called him ‘sir’ in that delightfully devilish way. But paired with the sight of the crow’s feet at the corners of his dark eyes that made him look so damn handsome, he found it hard to catch his breath. And the sight of Ryder with Shiloh, his dark head bent with Shiloh’s blond curls over a game or a book or a shared snack – it was hard not to think they looked damn good together.

            He began to keep his distance, avoiding shared rooms if he knew Ryder was there, leaving rooms if Ryder came into them alone. Without Shiloh as a buffer between them, he found himself getting increasingly flustered around the young man. He hated to admit it; he had a middle school crush on the handsome young man.

            Shiloh didn’t seem to notice anything strange, and for that Aaron was grateful. He could just imagine what the boy would think of him if he knew. But he remained oblivious; innocent as always of any social cuing that went on around him. He didn’t find it odd in the least to snuggle up with Ryder on the couch or the swing outside; he didn’t mind when Ryder would hold his hand or walk from the bathroom upstairs to his room without a towel on. While Aaron would look away and busy himself with something else, Shiloh would simply watch his friend with interest.

            He came home late one night to the stillness of the house. The lights were out and the kitchen was clean; Ryder was very quick to pick up on the way Aaron liked things to be kept. He glanced at the clock over the dining room table – it stood at 8:15. He didn’t usually send Shiloh up to get ready for bed until 8:45.

            He went up the stairs quietly after he had locked up for the night. Their room stood empty, so he moved down the hall to glance into the guest room. The young men were sprawled out together; Shiloh was on his stomach like a lazing cat, his face pressed to Ryder’s armpit, and Ryder was rubbing his back in slow, lazy circles. The older man was awake, skimming through something on his phone, and he glanced up when he heard the floor creak outside the door.

            Aaron took a step into the room, motioning for Ryder to stay where he was when the man started to sit up. “He’s not feeling well,” Ryder told him in a whisper when Aaron had sat down on the other side. He smoothed a hand under Shiloh’s shirt and up his back; he was radiating heat and he could hear the wheeze in his breathing.

            “Has he taken anything?” he asked quietly, feeling Shiloh turn over into his touches. Ryder shook his head faintly, resisting the urge to brush Shiloh’s hair from his damp forehead.

            “No, he said he wasn’t allowed to until you were home,” he said, concerned. “I tried to get him to take some cough medicine but he was adamant.”

            Aaron sighed softly. “It’s one of our rules; I keep the medicine cabinet locked. If you had texted me I would have told you to give him something,” he said, but he wasn’t upset. Shiloh had followed their rules and Ryder hadn’t known any better.

            Ryder sat up and set his phone and the book he had earlier read to Shiloh aside on the nightstand while Aaron woke Shiloh gently. The boy was pliant and sleepy in his arms as he was sat up and he mouthed a yawn against Aaron’s shoulder before he erupted into a round of coughing.

            “Why don’t you come with me to get something that’ll help you feel better?” he suggested, helping the boy to his feet. Shiloh yawned again and allowed himself to be led by the hand out of the guest room to the bathroom where Aaron unlocked the medicine cabinet. He took two capsules out for him and filled a cup with water and watched while Shiloh obediently took the pills.

            Ryder was lingering in the hall when they finished. Aaron shuffled Shiloh past him to go to their bedroom; Shiloh twisted around to hug Ryder tightly on the way. The older man smoothed his hands up Shiloh’s back. “Sleep well, kid. Feel better,” he advised. Shiloh wandered to bed then and Aaron watched him from the hall as he slid under the covers and stretched out.

            “Are you feeling alright, Ryder?” he asked, turning back to the dark-haired young man. “I hope he didn’t bother you too much,” he added quietly.

Ryder smiled faintly, shaking his head. “No sir, not at all. I feel fine. He didn’t bug me; we just read for a while and then he fell asleep,” he told the man. “I think he was too tired to do much pestering,” he smiled, teasing.

            Aaron smiled back at the young man. “Thank you for keeping an eye on him, Ryder. He doesn’t do ‘sick’ well,” he explained. He remembered the first time Shiloh had been sick with him – he had locked himself in the bathroom and refused to come out for almost twelve hours, used to being left to do things on his own.

            “Would you like to come get a snack with me?” Aaron offered. Ryder’s eyes lit up and he followed the older man down the stairs to the kitchen, where Aaron set out a late-night snack of cheese and crackers.

Ryder tucked himself into the far end of the couch, sitting crisscross diagonally from Aaron. The older man set up the plate between them on a cushion and he watched the deliberate way Ryder selected which pieces he wanted.

            “I appreciate how gentle you are with Shy,” Aaron said after a while, breaking the silence. Ryder looked up at the comment, catching Aaron’s gaze. “He finds it hard sometimes to be himself, but I don’t worry that he’s trying to hide when he’s with you. You’re good for him,” the man said.

            Ryder swallowed his bite, nodding slowly. “Shiloh is…exceptional,” he said quietly, looking away from Aaron. “He’s told me how much you’ve done for him. He’s fortunate to have someone like you,” he flushed. And, he thought, Aaron was blessed to have someone like Shiloh sharing his heart.

            Aaron let the silence lapse, leaning back against the arm of the couch. Ryder watched him discretely, a smile quirking the corner of his mouth. “I can see your aura as plain as day,” he whispered after a few moments had passed in comfortable silence. “You move between reds and oranges depending on the day – you’re grounded and strong, courageous and outgoing and full of energy. It’s enlivening.”

Aaron caught his eye, curious.

            “Shy…I’ve never been able to see one colour. It changes every time I look at him – muted yellows and pinks, sometimes violet or blue. It is never one true, solid colour; I always see it as faded or pastel. I’m intrigued by him. I’ve never seen anything like it before. He’s very special,” Ryder explained, catching Aaron’s eyes.

            Aaron held the boy’s gaze. He wanted to say something, to fill the silence. But he couldn’t think of anything to say. Ryder broke their eye contact with a suddenly shy smile, looking away out the patio door. Aaron felt himself flush, glad of the darkness of the living room.

            “I would never hurt him, Aaron. He has a child’s naivety; it’s very endearing,” he smiled. “I hope you don’t feel I’m stepping on your toes with him. He sparks every protective urge in me. I just want to keep him safe,” he admitted quietly.
           
            Aaron could sense that there was more he wanted to say, but Ryder had decided that he had said enough. He hugged his knees to his chest, looking out at the dark yard, cheek resting on his knees. Aaron watched him carefully, admiring the high bones in his cheeks and the slender length of his fingers as they clasped his opposite elbows.

            He sat with him a while longer before he stood and took the plate to the kitchen. He set the dishwasher to start and checked that everything was locked up for the night before he padded up to bed.


            There was a growing tension between the two men, Aaron and Ryder, as the weeks wore on. Shiloh didn’t appear to notice, ever ignorant of these sorts of things. Ryder didn’t make it obvious; he was too cool and collected even in the face of the strained atmosphere. Aaron was having a harder time of things.

            It went on for almost two months before Aaron realized it was starting to affect Shiloh too. The boy was in turns grouchy and distant, not wanting to be with either of them and then suddenly clinging to whichever one of them was available. Aaron tried everything with him; getting him out of the house for walks in nature to ground him, rocking on the swing on the porch, using his weighted blanket at night.

Shiloh remained fussy and reticent despite his efforts, and he worried that perhaps it would be best if Ryder moved out soon. He needed to run it by Shiloh first, but ultimately he would make the decision if he thought it best.

            However Shiloh was not interested in that as an option – and he made himself very clear about that one night. Rocking on the swing with Aaron, his eyes wet with tears, he sat up and subsided into Aaron’s arms with a heavy sigh. Aaron hugged him hard, a bone-crunching embrace that made Shiloh’s shoulders slacken and his breathing even out as he relaxed against his Top.

            “Ryder is going to leave,” he whispered. “He told me so, Aaron.” He twisted in his Top’s arms to look up at him, hands flat on his broad chest. His eyes were large, wet and full of sadness. “Please, please don’t make him go, Aaron.”

            Aaron smoothed his hands down the boy’s back gently, sadly; he kissed his temple soothingly but Shiloh wasn’t willing to concede defeat. “Aaron, please?” he whispered again, bottom lip trembling. His brow furrowed deeply, making him look as if he were very seriously considering something. Aaron could practically hear the gears turning in his boy’s head as he tried to get his words straight before he said them out loud.
           
            Failing to do so, he blurted out seconds later: “Aaron, I love him!” Mortified, his face reddened from neck to ear tips and he broke into keening sobs, balling his fists and hitting Aaron’s chest weakly. “I w-want him t-t-too, I n-need him,” he wailed, sinking down in Aaron’s lap to cling to his waist. Aaron went on rocking, slow and steady, his palm firm on his back.

            He wasn’t sure how he felt about Shiloh’s admission. He could feel his own face flushed red as the young man’s words sank into him and he worked them into his own experiences of Ryder recently.

            Shiloh stilled under his repetitive circling motions, breathing evening out a bit. It was punctuated every so often with a sniffle or a hitch in his breath as he got himself under control. Aaron played with his hair absently.

            “Shiloh,” he started after a while, when his boy was much calmer. “Do you love Ryder the way you love me?” he asked. He didn’t sound angry; there were no jealous overtones in his voice. He sounded merely curious, calm and collected.
           
            Shiloh didn’t answer for a while, obviously chewing over the question. He let Aaron pet him for a while in silence, as if gauging how his partner would react. He could sense no anger, no upset in the way Aaron was stroking his soft hair. As always, he radiated calm and quiet.

            “I love you differently,” he said after a while. Aaron could feel his brow furrowed against his stomach. “I know the sun is going to come up every morning; even on a cloudy day I know the sun is there, just behind the clouds. The same way I look at you and know you’re always going to be there, every day for a hundred years. You’re always going to be with me, Aaron,” he said, remaining where he was, clinging to his waist.

            “That’s not how I feel about Ryder,” he explained. “You’re constant and steady like a river. He’s…he’s like a wave. It came out of nowhere,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to fall for him, Aaron,” he added, sounding as if he was close to tears again as he sat up.

Aaron held him in place, adjusting him so the boy’s legs were on either side of him. He ran his thumb gently under his eye to clear the dampness there and he pressed a firm kiss to his temple.

“What shall we do about this, Shy?” The Top asked him, bouncing his knee a bit. Shiloh’s pout began to fade at the movement and he clutched the front of Aaron’s shirt. His nose wrinkled up and he shrugged.

“I can’t have you both,” he finally said, so low Aaron almost didn’t hear him. When he felt Aaron’s grip on his waist tighten, he looked up at his lover sadly. “I want you both,” he mumbled.

Aaron tugged his arm until he settled against his chest and he hugged him as tightly as he could. He had never seen the boy so full of emotion, or so willing to try to express himself like this. He rocked the swing slowly, wrapping him up in his arms securely.

After a quiet few minutes, Aaron pressed a kiss to his curly hair and let out a small sigh. “Shiloh, I don’t know how this would work and I don’t know if Ryder would even consider us as an option,” he said with his voice soft and low. “But I have felt what you feel for him, kid; I am drawn to his shores,” he whispered.

Shiloh smiled faintly at the imagery, clutching Aaron’s shirt.

“Shall we ask him to consider us?”


           
            When Ryder came home and saw them together in the living room, he tried to de-escalate what he assumed was an intervention to tell him to move out. This is what had happened with Beau and Duncan months ago – Beau had been tired of him sticking around; he had even used the words abusing their kindness. Duncan had sat silent, arms folded.

            But these two didn’t look quite so serious. And when Aaron suggested he sit down, he did so quickly with a quiet “yes sir”. He looked between them, but Shiloh wasn’t giving anything away other than a quiet nervousness.

            “Aaron, look, I know I’ve been here almost six months,” he started, holding up a placating hand to the man before he could interrupt. “And I know mowing the lawn and helping with dinner and tidying up isn’t much of a contribution. I can start paying rent if you want; I can probably even pay you back rent money from these last months,” he offered.

Aaron could practically smell the panic he was feeling. “Josiah Campbell,” he interrupted, and the boy’s eyes snapped up at the use of his legal name. “Ryder. We don’t want you to leave,” he soothed, holding a hand out to the boy. He hesitated a moment and then stood and made his way around the coffee table to sit on the floor in front of Aaron, slipping his hand into the man’s warm grasp.

Aaron covered his hand with both of his; Shiloh watched them calmly, appearing unfazed by the way Aaron was acting. Ryder pulled his eyes away from Shiloh and back to Aaron when the man cleared his throat.

“Shy and I have been talking, Ryder. We’ve been together for almost two years now and we love each other very much,” he said.

Ryder flushed at the comment, afraid that Aaron had seen through him to his deepest, most secret places. Could he know all those nights he had laid awake, thinking of Shiloh’s sweet smile in the dark? Or the days he’d dreamed of Aaron holding him as tightly as he held Shiloh when he was upset? Had he given it away somehow?

            He felt Aaron’s warm hand on his cheek and he blinked, coming back to the present. A gentle thumb traced the lines around his dark eye, reading in them openness, a want. Ryder’s mouth opened in a soft sigh at the affection in Aaron’s touches.

            “I don’t think either of us expected for this to happen, Ryder,” he said quietly; beside him Shiloh gave an exasperated sigh and mumbled something about turning this into a three act play and when was intermission going to happen? Aaron smirked despite himself.

            “Ryder, if this is something you would be willing to consider – we want you to stay,” Aaron said, lamely. Ryder looked between them again, brow furrowed. Shiloh bounced up on his knees and shoved Aaron’s shoulder, clearly unhappy with how he had worded things. Aaron was red in the face, and he had averted his eyes from Ryder.

            “Y-you mean…? With you?” he stammered.

            Aaron chuckled, nodding. “Yes, with us. I know it’s not exactly typical,” he said, obviously embarrassed and uncertain how this sort of thing was supposed to proceed. “And if we have gone way over the edge, I’m so sorry,” he added.

            Ryder shook his head with force, squeezing Aaron’s hand hard. He took in Shiloh’s patient, wide-eyed face and he smiled with such affection at the younger man, breathing deeply. Rising up on his knees, he drew the boy into his arms and hugged him; Shiloh nuzzled his hair roughly and planted a chaste kiss in his hair.

            He pulled away after a moment, flashing a handsome, eye-wrinkling grin up at Aaron. The older man didn’t hesitate before he leaned down, tilting Ryder’s head up to kiss the corner of his mouth.

Ryder melted and flung his arms around Aaron’s waist, burying his dark head into his stomach. Aaron smoothed his hands over the boy’s back, feeling him trembling. “It’s alright, Ryder,” he breathed. “It’s alright.”

The boy clung to him, unable to do much more, and after a few minutes of his quiet crying Aaron leaned down and hauled him bodily into his lap. Shiloh pressed close against his side and stroked Ryder’s hair as the Top rocked him steadily. It didn’t take long for Ryder to calm down in his arms.

“You’ve caught us, kid. We don’t want you to go anywhere else. Will you be ours?” he whispered against his dark hair.

Ryder nodded heavily, pulling back a bit to look up at him, eyes wet. “Y-yes sir. Yes,” he whispered before he subsided back into his warm embrace. Aaron hugged Shiloh close against his side and kissed the top of his head as the young man stroked Ryder’s wet cheek.

He had always thought that Shiloh was enough for him with his intricacies and his innocence and his radiant smile. But he knew he simply hadn’t gone close enough to the water’s edge to feel the waves against his feet to know what he had been missing before now.

With a strong rush of emotion, he hugged the two young men in a bone-crushing way and let the waves crash over him.