“Okay. Good.” Rowan can’t help the slow smile that spreads across his face.

There’s a rhythmic tapping on the table that Rowan belatedly notices comes from Mal’s fingers anxiously tapping away.

“I’m dyslexic,” Mal blurts out.

For a moment, Rowan’s stunned. “Huh? Really?”

“Yep. Can’t read for shit on paper. Takes me forever. The letters all get jumbled around.”

Something clicks in Rowan’s brain. “Is that why you do audiobooks and work with numbers mostly?”

“Yeah. Makes it easier. I can read shit on a screen just fine, but something about having a piece of paper in front’a me is like I’m havin’ a fuckin’ seizure.”

Mal’s admission softens the blow of Rowan’s own admission. He didn’t need to tell him something personal like that. Something that doesn’t really affect their scenes together—like all the other times Mal’s told him about his family or his past—but he did. Just to, presumably, make Rowan feel better.

It warms his heart far more than the still-steaming omelet ever could.

“Genetics suck,” Rowan empathizes.

Mal clinks his coffee mug gently against Rowan’s before taking a slow sip. “Yeah, they do.”

Rowan smiles and takes a sip of his own coffee.

There’s a comfortable silence between the two of them, only the soft music of the jukebox and the scraping of their utensils on their plates filling the air. Mal’s the one to break the silence, asking the question that Rowan’s been waiting for him to ask since they came here.

“Do you think you’ll be good to start scening again, or do you need some time off?”

“Maybe not tonight, but for next week I’ll be fine.”

“You sure? We don’t have to jump back into anything.”

Mal’s concern warms Rowan’s belly, but it isn’t necessary. He’s ready. Maybe not for anything extreme yet, but—

“I was thinking….” Rowan says. “Wondering if you wanted to switch things up for next time.”

“Switch things up how?”

“Having you top. Ease us back into things, y’know?”

Mal appears stunned, his mouth hanging open a fraction. He snaps it shut, visibly swallowing, throat bobbing prettily.

“Y-yeah. Hell yeah.”

And maybe it doesn’t make sense, diverging from their norm on the first session together again, but Rowan wants it. Make sure that Mal knows he’s in control after Steven, even under the guise of giving it up to Rowan. To give up a tiny bit of control himself. Take some of the pressure off.

But mostly, he wants to feel Mal like that. He’s been thinking about it nearly constantly the past few weeks, each time he thrusts into Mal’s ass or wraps his hands or lips around his thick cock. Picturing Mal sliding into him, filling him up, coming inside him. He wants to feel something again, and he wants that something to be Mal.

SATURDAY FINALLY rolls around. He’s mostly back to normal, only a lingering sluggishness paired with a slight buzzing under his skin from the adjusted meds, but he feels good.