Chapter 2

“His mistake,” Leonard said, each word enunciated as if he were speaking to a child, “is his to carry. Not yours. You don’t have to carry it here.”

The kind words felt like a blade that sliced through the numb shock he had felt when he got the news, and everything he’d been holding back: the betrayal, the humiliation and the image of a stranger in his bed, all rushed into the cut. A hot tear escaped, tracing a path down his cheek, and he swiped at it angrily. He didn't want to cry, at least not in front of his father-in-law. 

Having caught what was going on, Leonard was beside him instantly. He didn’t hug him. He simply knelt on the rug in front of the sofa, putting them at eye level. He took the whiskey glass from Dave’s unsteady hand and set it on the low table. Then he reached out, his palm hovering near Dave’s face.

“May I?” Leonard asked, his voice soft, like one speaking to a child. He didn't want to spook him.

Dave couldn’t speak, he just gave a tiny nod. That was all Leonard needed. His thumb brushed the wet track from his cheek, slightly rough, but gentle. So gentle that it made Dave’s breath hitch. Unconsciously, he leaned into the touch. 

Leonard's eyes darkened, his gaze dropping to Dave's mouth before returning to his eyes. Their understanding seemed to have shape-shifted from what it was a few minutes ago to something else. 

It was no longer just about shared hurt, but about the magnetic pull and electric charge between them, the forbidden line shimmering between their skin.

Leonard's hand slid back, his fingers threading into Dave's hair, and a low sound escaped Dave's throat, like a strangled animal.

“Leonard,” he whispered, as if afraid speaking out loud would break the static energy between them, that desire that none of them had felt until that moment. It might be the whiskey they just consumed, or the proximity. Or even the fucking tears, but none of them knew what it was, and they didn't care to question it. 

A shudder went through the older man, and his formidable control, something he had always prided himself on, seemed to ripple as his other hand came up, cradling Dave's face. He was so close now that Dave could feel the heat radiating from him, could see the gold flecks in his brown eyes and the faint scar above his brow.

“Tell me to stop,” Leonard breathed, his voice thick, but he didn't stop. His thumb stroked Dave's cheekbone. “Tell me this isn't what you want.”

It was a lie, and they both knew it. Dave didn't tell him to stop. Instead of doing that, he closed the last inch of space, and their lips met. Leonard attacked his lips like a starved man. 

In a way, he was. He hadn't been with anyone since his partner died ten years ago, two years after he lost Adam's mother. He had kept himself away from distractions until that moment. It felt like the lid he kept over his desires had been uncorked by a man he wasn't supposed to lose over, his son's husband. 

Dave kissed him back, hard and hungry until it felt like a claiming of teeth and desperation, his hands fisting in Leonard's jumper. He poured every ounce of his shattered heart into it, the betrayal, the rage, and the hollowed-out grief, transforming it into a savage, open-mouthed demand. This wasn't a son-in-law seeking comfort, but a man taking his revenge with his tongue.

Leonard made a raw sound against his mouth as his hands, which had been cradling and gentling, tightened instantly, one sliding around to the nape of Dave's neck, holding him firm, while the other gripped his hip through his jeans. 

He met Dave's hunger with his own, Dave's ice with his warmth, until it felt like a controlled fire suddenly unleashed. He kissed him with a ferocity that stole the air from Dave's lungs, his tongue sweeping in to taste and conquer the space Dave had offered.

Dave felt the older man's restraint dissolving under his hands, the solid muscle of his chest heaving. He bit Leonard's lower lip, soft enough to draw blood, but enough to make Leonard groan so deep he felt it in his bones. 

Leonard's hand on his hip dragged him forward, off the couch cushion, until Dave was kneeling on the rug between his spread knees, their bodies pressed flush.

“Is this what you want?” Leonard growled into his mouth, the words hot and whiskey-tinged. His hand left Dave's hip to cup his jaw, tilting his head back to deepen the kiss. “This?”

“Yes,” Dave gasped before the word got swallowed by Leonard's mouth. He arched into him, his hips pushing forward, and the contact was electric. He could feel the hard, thick line of Leonard's erection through his trousers, pressed against his stomach. 

Knowing his father-in-law was hard and ready for him sent a shockwave of pure, illicit heat straight to his core. His cock throbbed painfully tight in his jeans.

Leonard broke the kiss. Breathing ragged, he rested his forehead against Dave's, their noses brushing. His eyes were black, pupils blown wide, and the gold flecks swallowed by the dark. Gulping in the air he had denied himself while taking what his son-in-law offered, he searched Dave's face, his thumb stroking the damp, swollen curve of his bottom lip. “Tell me why.”

“Because he doesn't get to have all of me,” Dave whispered, the truth clawing its way out. He leaned in, his lips grazing the shell of Leonard's ear. “And I want you to ruin me for him.”

A shudder racked Leonard's frame at the confession he never expected to hear, at least not from Dave. He pulled back, his gaze dropping to Dave's mouth, then lower, to the frantic pulse beating in his throat before whispering, “That's a dangerous thing to ask for.”

“I'm not asking,” Dave said, his voice steadier than he felt. He reached for the hem of Leonard's soft cashmere jumper, his fingers sliding beneath it to find warm, taut skin, and felt the hard plane of Leonard's abdomen contract under his touch. “I'm taking. Are you going to stop me?”

Leonard's answer was a kiss, slower this time, deeper, more devastating. It was a surrender and a claiming all at once. His hands moved to the buttons of Dave's shirt, his fingers deft and sure despite the tremor Dave could feel in them. He opened the first button, then the second, his knuckles brushing the hollow of Dave's throat.

The cool air hit Dave's exposed skin, raising goosebumps as Leonard's mouth left his and trailed down, following the path of his opened shirt. He pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the base of Dave's throat, where his pulse hammered. Dave's head fell back, and a choked sound escaped his throat. 

Leonard's tongue traced his collarbone, his teeth scraping lightly. It was worship and possession, everything Adam had never given him.

Leonard pushed the shirt off Dave's shoulders and let it fall to the rug before his hands spanned Dave's bare waist and his thumbs stroked the sensitive skin just above his jeans.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, the word so low it was almost inaudible. 

Dave reached for him again, pulling the jumper up and over Leonard's head. The older man helped, arms lifting, and then he was bare from the waist up. Dave's breath caught at the mouth-watering sight. Leonard was built with a lean, powerful grace, the defined chest and shoulders of a man who hadn't surrendered to age. His eyes followed the dusting of almost white hair across his pecs, trailing down his abdomen, and a scar caught his eye. Instinctively, he touched it, his fingertips tracing the raised line.

Leonard stilled under the touch. “Appendectomy. Ten years ago,” he supplied, even though Dave didn't verbally ask the question. He felt he wanted to know. 

Dave didn't reply. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to the scar. Leonard's sharp intake of breath was the only sound he heard as he kissed his way across his chest, tasting salt and skin, finding a flat nipple and circling it with his tongue until it peaked into a hard bud under his mouth. 

Leonard's hands instantly came up, threading into Dave's dark hair, not guiding, just holding on." Dave," he warned, his voice strained.