He doesn’t know what more to say. How to express that Mal can still talk to him, especially if he drops because of this, and that he really does still want to keep seeing him. But his body knows what to do, pulling Mal in and wrapping his arms gently around his shoulders. Mal stiffens instantly, only relaxing after a long exhale. Even in the sticky summer heat, the warmth of his body is a comfort Rowan didn’t know he needed after a tense night.

Mal doesn’t hug him back, but Rowan feels one hand slide from his waist to his hip, settling for a beat before dropping back down. A little pleased thrum manages to squeeze itself in among the tangled knots in Rowan’s chest, but he takes that as his cue to pull away.

“Text me,” he says again.

Mal nods. Clears his throat. Mutters a “Later” and heads straight for his car.

Rowan stands alone on the sidewalk, lit only by the glow of the Menagerie’s marquee lights, watching until Mal drives away.

THE NEXT morning, Rowan finds that he’s far more rattled by the kiss than he thought he’d be. Well. Truthfully, he thought if they ever got to kiss, it would be something as simple as Mal saying, Hey, I’m cool with kissing and shit now. You wanna? and that would be that.

No biggie.

Really, the way it actually happened tells Rowan a lot about the kind of person Mal is and about what’s going on in his mind. Because when he’s at his most vulnerable, when he’s seeking comfort and reassurance and familiarity, he seeks out a kiss, whether or not he had done so knowingly.

And God, Rowan wanted it so fucking badly. Already, after only a few weeks. After only five sessions together, not counting the gangbang. But he’d never forgive himself if he let it continue, and Mal might not have either when he regained his senses.

I’ll knock you out if you try to kiss me. That’s what Mal said at the gangbang a month and a half ago. Rowan could practically feel the hostility in his tone at the time.

He can’t help but wonder if he was like this with his last Dom too, or if it’s only with Rowan. He thinks back to a few weeks ago—how Mal implied that Rowan had been the first Dom he’d let call him Mal rather than Malcolm.

And the way he’d reacted after the kiss… completely shutting down, even though he’d talked about it with Rowan.

Well. It makes Rowan’s heart ache, is all.

The vulnerability that Mal had shown earlier that night during their scene had been all but completely replaced with stoicism by the time they’d discussed the kiss. They’d been doing so well too. Their forward progress may have been limited to baby steps with the occasional baby leap, but it was still progress. Now it feels like they’ve gone backward. And for the first time in a long time, Rowan doesn’t see a clear path forward.