Rowan simply nods in understanding. As much as he’s a stickler for being in charge of things, there have definitely been times in the past where he’s wished someone else would take the reins and tell him what to do. And while there’s not as much stigma around topping as there is bottoming, anything that strays even slightly from vanilla sex is looked down on by some people.

So he gets it. And he’s glad Mal told him.

“How ’bout you?”

Blinking, Rowan’s brain stalls. “I, uh… guess I never really thought about it….” He winces. “I know that’s a shit answer.”

Mal gives him a shrug as he dumps a few ice cubes from his water into his mouth and crunches them loudly. “Better than you makin’ somethin’ up.” Then he stuffs one of the few fries left on his plate through his lips, and Rowan’s not even sure he’s finished chewing his ice yet. “Don’t gotta figure it out right now long as you’re not actively disliking the shit we do.”

“No, I—” Rowan starts, then pauses to rack his brain. He wants to be able to give Mal an answer, something more concrete than I dunno. But what does he want from this, outside of some good—great—sex with a hot—gorgeous—guy?

He thinks about his past, about the clubs and the drugs and the booze and too many nameless men. About flying off the rails and losing control and being so sick but not knowing it. About his diagnoses and his family’s desperate, relentless attempts to keep him stable, keep him alive, despite the hell he gave them for it.

With all that in mind, he finds that the answer to Mal’s question, to what does he want, comes to him easier than he thought it would.

“I’ve kinda hurt a lot of people in the past. Family mostly, but exes and strangers too. Not physically, but emotionally. I wanna make someone feel good for a change. Be the one takin’ care of someone and worrying about them instead of myself. I mean, I kinda do that shit every day at work, but there it’s… clinical, I guess. Not really personal, even though I do care about all my patients. And I obviously like bein’ in control, think that shit’s obvious by now, but I like havin’ to work for it, not just be given it ’cause someone feels bad for me. Makes me feel like I have a purpose, I guess.”

Done with his speech, he finds Mal looking at him curiously. Like he’s a puzzle he’d thought he’d finished but found a dozen more pieces to and doesn’t quite know what to do with them. Rowan can only hope that when he figures it out, he’ll like what he sees.

“I get that,” Mal says eventually.