I hold the door open for Thomas as he carries in my sleeping angel.

"Thanks for taking him in."

"Hey, anytime man. He's fun to mess with."

As soon as the door is shut, I take Raiden from him, cradling him carefully in my arms. I look him over, noting every new mark on his skin. The cuts I last made on him are nearly invisible by now, but Thomas's are painstakingly obvious.

Raiden is mine. I know how important this was to make him behave, but after seeing him like this... It can't happen again.

Nobody else gets to hurt him. No one else can touch him. He's mine.

"What's that mark on his shoulder?"

"Bit him."

"You bit him?" I wait for him to chime in and say it's a joke, but he nods instead. "Great. Now I have to get him tested for rabies."

He rolls his eyes, but I see him hold back a smile as he turns away to raid the fridge.

As Raiden's weight tires my arms, I excuse myself and head upstairs to the attic. I kneel next to the mattress and lay him down as gently as I can, cutting away his restraints. There's no comfortable position I can think of with his injuries, so I leave him on his side. His hair is greasy and tangles as I run my fingers through it. When's the last time he had a proper bath?

With one last brush over his cheek, I let him sleep. When the sedative wears off, I can come back and get him.

By the time I reach the kitchen, Thomas has already grabbed enough food for his ride back.

"Poor, starving Thomas. How ever will you last through the harsh winter?"

"Hey," he defends through half a mouthful, "this is the least I could ask for in exchange for taking care of your brat, and delivery both ways."

I'll give him that.

"Besides, you probably want me out of your hair so you can be alone with it."

"How long until he's awake?"

"I dunno, like, about half an hour. If you're wanting to mess around with him while he's unconscious, you're losing your window."

He smirks, not bothering to stop stuffing his face as he makes suggestive gestures.

"I'm not like that, Thomas," I spit. "I love him. Never would I ever take advantage of him in that way."

"Awh, come on man. You weren't always such a prude. What happened to my cousin who wasn't afraid to force someone to their knees behind the school? I miss that kid! A man after my own heart."

"Stop!"

My voice rings out through the kitchen as I try to collect myself. With a slow look over me, he shuts up. It takes a moment, but I finally calm down enough to at least appear rational to him.

"That was a mistake, and almost a whole year ago. I'm not like that. I'm not like you. It won't happen again, and he knows that."

"How could he? Have you ever said that to him? Fuck, he has to be expecting it by now."

"If I ever do something to him, it's going to be because he wants me to do it. It's not debatable." I turn away, pressing a rough hand to my temple. "I think it's time for you to go."

"Already gone!"

The fridge opens again as he takes another pop can, then he's out the door.

When his car is out of my driveway and halfway down the street, I finally allow myself a breath.

That bitch! Who is he to judge how I treat my boy? It's as if his girl isn't completely dead and gone inside. You could probably take one of her fingers off without a genuine reaction. She's gone. I'll never let Raiden fall that far.

If there's one thing he was right about, it's that there's still a lot I haven't explained to Raiden. I've made plenty of mistakes and kept so much from him, how could I expect him to trust me? Everything must be so confusing, contradicting everything he thought he knew.

It has to be time he received some answers. Real answers.

I owe him that at least.

Watching the time closely, I sit at the table and think over everything we need to talk about. Half an hour passes, not nearly enough time to think. Still, I don't want to keep him waiting.

He's already awake and upright, if not groggy, by the time I arrive. Tears fall down his face the moment he notices me.

He gasps, then chokes back a sob. "Adam..."

"Hey, baby..." I hurry to his side and pull him into my embrace. He pushes closer to my chest as he jerks away from my hands. I pull them away. "Oh, I'm sorry, are you hurt there?"

He nods as he suppresses a whimper, then buries his head into the groove of my neck. Hot tears roll down my shoulder as I try to find a harmless way to hold him.

"Shh, I'm here, Rai. It's okay now, it's okay."

"I'm so, so sorry," he sobs. "I'll be good. It won't happen again, I promise. I won't run, I'll do whatever you want, but please don't let him touch me again! Please, Adam..."

"I know, babe, I know." Not able to run my hand through his greasy hair, I settle for running the tips of my fingers against the back of his neck.

He nuzzles closer as he starts to drift off again.

"No, no, no, we're not falling back asleep." I pull him closer, placing one arm under him and the other lightly over his back, and stand up and he tightens his grip on my neck. "We're gonna check out your injuries, then get you into a warm bath, okay? How does that sound?"

His legs tighten around my waist as we descend the stairs. Without a response, I bring him to my room and carefully set him down on my bed.

He groans but stays upright, rubbing at his eyes to keep himself awake.

I take his face into my hands and brush away the sleep in his eyes for him. We stay there for a moment, just watching each other. But it can't last long enough.

"Okay, let's see what we have here."

He talks me through the past two weeks, describing each injury and what it was for. I listen silently, memorizing every inch of his tarnished skin he's willingly letting me see. Everything checks out fine, no infections or abnormalities.

When I tell him it's time for a bath, his face lights up. I can't imagine going that long in my own sweat and blood without a proper cleaning. He tries to stand up and walk on his own, but the face he makes when his ankle touches the ground is too much. Despite his insistence otherwise, I pick him up again and carry him to the bathroom.

I set him down on the closed toilet seat as I turn on the faucet. How are you supposed to know the right temperature? If I was making myself a bath, I'd turn the temperature up as far as it would go, let it mostly fill, then end it off with a cold burst at the end. It hurts at first, and my skin usually ends up red, but it's the best way to relax my muscles.

know what kind of mood I was in and what kind of temperature I'd want, but even then it's easy enough to screw it up, too hot or too cold.For him though, I choose to keep it basic. Warm enough to be comfortable, but not burning so I don't hurt him or shock his senses.

Once the temperature is figured out, I turn to Raiden to help him undress.

"Hey!" He weakly pushes my hands away from his shirt. "I can take a bath by myself."

"You're on oxycodone, Rai. And I'm not sure how your body is reacting to it. Drowsiness, dizziness, I'm not leaving you alone around water."

"You're not going to watch me bathe."

"No, but you're going to need help. You have a lot of wounds to take care of, several on your back, and a hand that shouldn't get wet. You're going to do all of that by yourself in the state you're in? If you're concerned about me seeing you naked, one, don't be, and two, you can leave your boxers on and change into new ones when you get out. Sound good to you?"

He stays open-mouthed, searching for an answer, as I give him a protective glare.

"I... just... Fine."

We start at his shirt. Raiden uses his one good arm to pull it over his head as I make sure it doesn't pull roughly against his back. The bandages stick to his skin as I remove them. Of course they need to come off so his wounds can be cleaned and then rebandaged, but the way it pulls off him hurts me. I wish I could make it better right now.

He complains throughout the rest of the ordeal until I finally get him into the tub. The stress practically dissolves into the water as the initial shock goes away and the warmth takes over.

"Better?"

He groans in approval, closing his eyes and enjoying the moment.

I hate to break his bliss, but he'll ultimately be more comfortable when he's all cleaned up and back in bed.

"Let's start with your back, okay? It'll feel better once it's over with."

I lather up a soft washcloth with soap, carefully placing it against his back. He flinches at the touch, so I lighten the pressure and carefully clean the raw skin.

Once all his wounds are cleaned, I let him sink in and enjoy the warm soapy water as much as he can. It's cute. How he struggles to find a comfortable position that covers him in water, doesn't hurt his back, and keeps his cast up. It's cute. He's cute.

Before his struggling turns into genuine frustration, I get him to sit upright again. I take the cup and set my hand protectively against his forehead as I wet his hair. His protests have lessened significantly throughout the whole process.

He leans into my touch as I massage the shampoo into his hair. I take my time, relishing this moment together. It's not every day I have him craving to be under my fingertips.

"What song is that?"

It takes me a moment to realize what he meant, and what I'd been humming. "Ikanai de. It's one of the songs my dad used to sing to my mom."

"So it has words then."

I nod.

"Okay, then sing some of it for me." Before I can protest, he adds, "I'm curious," in such an innocent tone I can't say no to.

"Just for you. This means you don't get to make fun of my singing voice."

He quickly agrees, so I take a deep breath and quietly start.

"Jikan dake ga sugite iku boku wo tsuretette

Kaerimichi kurai keredo hitori de daijoubu kana

Gaitou ni terasarete kage ga dekiteiru

Hitoribocchi sa

"Tooku e to kiete yuku boku wo oitette

Kanzen ni mata kondo yoru ga nijindeiku

Naicha dame naicha dame demo honto wa iitai yo

"Ikanaide"

"Naicha dame naicha dame demo honto wa iitai yo

"Ikanaide"

As I trail off after the last note, I find Rai staring up at me, starry-eyed.

"...You promised you wouldn't laugh."

"And I'm not! See!" He continues to sit still in the soapy water for a long moment, silent and obviously feeling the oxy. "I actually think your singing is pretty nice. How come you've never let me hear you sing before?"

"It's, like, another tradition. It's not like I haven't wanted to share it with you, but, well, I kinda needed us to be official first. We don't really sing to anyone except family. And with family, it's usually just our spouses and kids."

He stares blankly.

"I think it's time we get you out of the tub. Don't want you getting pruney."

We go through the motions, getting him out, dry, and covered. He insists on changing his boxers himself, but let's everything else go without a catch. Replacing his bandages takes the longest amount of time as I still have to learn what all needs to be done. With a few more tries, it'll be nothing more than muscle memory to me.

He rests his head on my shoulder as I carry him back to my room and my bed. I try to convince him to sleep uncovered to let his wounds breathe, but the struggle is not worth it. I give in and let him wear a soft, oversized pajama shirt.

Not sure if he's tired or awake, he lays back on the bed. I feel him watching me as I go back and forth, cleaning up the leftover mess from the bathroom and our room.

"How do you feel, Rai?"

A pause.

"I don't know? Like, kinda fuzzy?"

"Okay..." I join him on the bed after placing his pain meds within my reach in my bedside table drawer. "Are you uncomfortable or in pain?"

He takes a moment to think, then lazily shakes his head.

"Okay..."

I lean into him and rest my arm on his chest and my head on his shoulder. He doesn't react at first, but brings his good hand up to mine as if to remove it from him. Something in him stops and gives in, gently setting our hands back down to his chest. My head bobs as he takes a deep breath in.

We lay in silence. He calms. I wait. But he doesn't fall asleep. And I can't take it.

"What's the matter, boo?"

"Don't call me that."

"What's the matter, babe?"

He's about to protest, yet sighs and gives up. I think I'm starting to like this version of him.

"What?"

"I'm not that tired."

"Well, okay. We can get up and do something instead."

He groans in protest. "Too tired."

"I thought you said–" My head jerks as he shrugs. "Limbo, huh? Well how about a compromise? I know there's still a lot of things here you have questions about. I'll answer as many as I can while we lay here."

"Why would you do that?"

"It's not like I want to keep you out of the loop," I scoff. "There just... hasn't been a right time to explain."

"And now's the right time?"

"Not really, but when will there be? I thought you would want answers, but we don't have to do this if you don't want to."

He takes his time to think again, and I almost think he really doesn't.

"How long?"

"'How long' what?"

"You know. This. How long have you been planning to do this to me?"

It's more complicated that it seems. I mean, I've known he was special to me since grade school, but it didn't occur to me that I wanted him to be mine until middle school at least. And then I only started actually planning within the past couple years. "A little over a year. Not longer than two I would think."

I hear his breath catch briefly before he continues on. "And your parents encouraged you to do this?"

"Yeah."

"Because they did the same thing."

"Yes."

"Wow..." He takes a moment to let it sink in, and then he's on a roll. "How many of you are there? How long has this been happening?"

"We're all pretty spread out and keep to ourselves, save for special occasions, so it's almost impossible to know for sure. In our county, I would say there's about a half-dozen families right now. I'd say somewhere between 100 and 200 people through just our handful the past five or so generations.

"But it's been so many generations, through... I wouldn't have a clue about our family length, honestly. I wasn't that into the family history as a kid. You could ask Thomas if you're that interested; he knows almost everything there is to know about our history."

His breath gets caught in his throat. "And you've never been caught? This can't all be true..."

"Oh! No way! There have been a handful of cousins I've heard of that were caught."

"How has that not brought the rest of you down? Someone must've made a connection somewhere."

"It's been thought through," I assure him. "When one goes down, their connections are cut clean. We don't tolerate snitches either, so no one ever tries to implicate the rest of us."

"That... There's no way..." He scrunches his cute little nose and furrows his brows as he grasps at all this new information, trying desperately to connect the dots. It's absolutely adorable watching him try so hard in such a hazy state. "John..? How does he know?"

"He's actually just another distant cousin of ours. He moved here from a couple states over to go through the police academy."

That's a bomb I wait to let it sink in.

"No..."

I feel his tired heart sink as he speaks. I should've predicted how this all would've come across to him before offering answers. Whether being drugged is helping him process better or not, I have absolutely no clue. But it's kind of late to consider that now.

"Maybe we take a break for now. Okay, babe?"

"No," he pouts with a new resolution. "You said you would answer my questions! Any I had! All of them..!'

"And I will. I promise. You can ask more after a nap? Yeah?"

"No! Now! Why is he different from you?!"

I use my thumb to rub small circles into his hand as I continue in a calmer, softer voice.

"Alright, Rai. No reason to get upset. I'll answer everything you ask. Let's calm down."

He melts into my touch. I swear, this is almost too easy.

"Mmkay..."

"Good boy," I murmur against his ear. He snuggles closer in response.

"John decided not to take a girlfriend. Instead, he went into a job where he could help the rest of us. Understand?"

"Yes..? But what about Turner? He said he would keep me safe..."

"I'm the only one who can keep you safe. You know that, don't you? John is keeping Turner out of the way for us. So we can be together in peace."

Through his incomprehensible mumbles, I notice his eyes droop and his muscles relax against me. I continue with soft touches and shower him in quiet praise as he stops fighting back sleep. Before he falls, he slips one last question in.

"Adam..?"

"Yes?"

"How come... How come you never told me you were gay?"

"You never asked me before. When I discovered I was bi, I never felt like it had enough significance to matter. You were the only boy, or person for that matter, that I've ever felt this serious about."

He goes quiet for so long, I almost think he's fallen asleep. He speaks up one last time, barely above a whisper.

"How come you never asked me out like a normal person?"

My mouth opens, but I can't make anything good come out. "I... don't know, Raiden."

But he's already asleep.