Chapter 24
“…Est. Talk to me.”
Est said nothing.
William’s voice gentled. “Please. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Still, Est didn’t look at him. His hands were clenched at his sides, his breath shallow and tight in his chest.
“I know what James said,” William continued carefully. “I know it was cruel. And wrong. But it got to you.”
Silence.
“I don’t want to assume how much it hurt, or why. But I’d rather you told me. I’d rather hear it from you.”
Est’s head dropped slightly, just a tilt of the chin, like the words reached him – but instead of answering, he turned his back. Paced a few steps, slow and deliberate.
“You say you want the truth?” he asked, bitterly. “Fine.”
He turned back around. “I’m not angry, William. I’m just… exhausted. I’m tired of pretending this is something it’s not.”
William frowned, but didn’t interrupt.
Est’s voice was low and taut. “I’m not your lover. Not really. And I’m not your equal. I can’t walk into a room and touch you. I can’t call you mine. I can’t even look at you sometimes without remembering that none of this is real outside these walls.”
“That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” Est’s voice cracked, but he pressed on. “You say I’m here for me, not for duty, but let’s not pretend it isn’t convenient. I’m here when you want me. I leave when you’re done. You dress me in silk and mark me up like a favorite pet and tell me I’m more than this – but you never say what. Because even you don’t know.”
William didn’t flinch. He only watched him quietly.
“I – ” William began, but Est cut him off.
“I know what I signed,” he said. “I signed that contract with open eyes. But that doesn’t make it easier to live with the way people look at me. The way they talk about me. Or the way I talk to myself when I leave your bed and return to mine, and wonder what the hell I’m doing.”
His voice dropped, suddenly hoarse. “James just said what I’ve already thought.”
William took a slow breath, and stepped forward – but not too close. Close enough to be felt.
“Est… I can’t undo what he said. And I can’t make people less cruel. But I can tell you this – you’re not some kept man to me. And you never have been.”
Est looked away, jaw tight.
William’s voice was low. Unsteady. But sure. “Maybe we started this with a contract. Maybe it was lust and need and nothing else at first – physical, maybe foolishly. I won’t lie about that.”
Est looked away sharply, his throat working.
“But that changed. For me, at least. And I think – for you too.”
He paused.
“You are my lover. I’ve never thought otherwise. I can’t believe you’d doubt that.”
Est looked at him sharply, eyes flashing with something raw and wounded.
William held his gaze. “Do you think I sleep around? Do you think I’ve had anyone else in my bed since you?”
Est didn’t answer, but something in his face flickered – uncertainty. Shame. Hope.
“I haven’t,” William said simply. “Not once. Not during. I know you’ve probably heard stories, about royals and their appetites. Their excesses. And the way I came on to you in the beginning… I gave you every reason to think I was just another spoiled heir using power to get what I wanted.”
He looked down for a second. His voice dropped lower.
“But that wasn’t what I meant. That’s not how I’ve ever treated you. Not here. Not when it’s just us. And I hate that you think I did. And if I haven’t made that clear, that’s my failure. But you’ve always been more than a body to me, Est. “
Est’s lip trembled. His hands were trembling too, fists tight like they were the only things keeping him together.
William took another step, slow and careful. “Out there, maybe I can’t say what I want. Maybe I can’t show it the way I wish I could. But in here? Every time I’ve touched you, I’ve meant it. Every time I’ve kissed you, I wanted you to feel wanted.”
Est blinked fast. One tear slipped loose, but he didn’t wipe it away.
“I don’t want you here because it’s convenient. Or because I’m using you. I want you here because you’re you. Because when you’re not with me, it hurts.”
Another beat of silence.
“As for the contract,” William added softly, “I know it bothers you. I understand why. I did it badly. I didn’t explain enough. I didn’t say what I should have said. But don’t think of it as payment. That’s not what it is. It never was.”
Est’s brow knit, uncertain.
“It’s not a price,” William said. “It’s protection. It’s safety. A way to shield you – because I know what this place is like. Because you’re close to me. And that makes you vulnerable. I couldn’t bear the thought of someone using you, or hurting you because of me. That contract – it’s a favor I’d have given anyone I cared about. A gift, not a transaction.”
Est’s expression shifted, slowly. His shoulders softened, just a little.
He exhaled.
“I’m not here to defend myself. I just – I want you to talk to me. Yell at me, if you want. Say it all. I’ll listen. But don’t keep this inside and let it eat you alive.”
Est stared at him.
His lip trembled for a split second. Then his eyes dropped to the floor.
“I don’t know what this is,” he said, softly, almost broken. “That’s the truth.”
Est looked away.
William didn’t approach. He didn’t accuse or demand. Just waited.
The quiet settled between them like fog. Heavy. Dense. Full of things unsaid.
And then Est moved – not toward the bed, but toward William.
One stride. Two. Three.
And suddenly he had him in his arms, lifting him slightly as he sat down in the nearby chair and pulled William into his lap.
It was desperate, almost messy – the kiss that followed. His hands fisted in the silk of William’s robe, mouth devouring, his tongue slipping past William’s lips like he could take something from him, something to fill the hollow that James had carved open.
William kissed him back – at first.
But then his hands rose between them, gentle but firm, and he pulled away just slightly, breath warm against Est’s cheek. “Est.”
Another kiss. Insistent.
“Est, stop.“
Est held him tighter, burying his face in William’s throat, lips brushing just beneath his ear. “Don’t. Please don’t talk.”
“Is that what this is?” William whispered. “Distraction?”
Est didn’t answer. He just kept kissing – William’s neck, his jaw, his shoulder.
William let it happen for a moment longer, his fingers sliding through Est’s hair, comforting even as he sighed.
“You think this proves something?” he murmured. “That if we have sex, it makes what James said true?”
Est stilled.
William pulled back again, just enough to look at him – not angry, not frustrated. Just there. Present. Soft, and steady, and entirely his.
“You’re not a whore,” William whispered. “You’re not a possession. I didn’t choose you to make a statement, or to have something beautiful on my arm. I chose you because – “
He faltered. Swallowed.
Est wouldn’t meet his eyes. His hands curled around the robe tighter.
“I chose you because you matter,” William finished. “Not the role you play. Not the way you look in uniform or the way you kiss me. You. The man who looks after everyone but doesn’t let anyone look after him. The man who still flinches when kindness feels unfamiliar.”
He leaned forward, kissed Est softly. Once. Twice. Then again, just under his eye.
“You mean a lot to me,” William whispered. “You don’t have to sleep with me to earn that.”
Est didn’t stop.
Even as William tried to speak – tried to reach him – Est’s mouth moved harder, hotter, trailing from his lips to his jaw, his throat, sucking marks into skin like they were the only things that would stay. His hands were everywhere – tugging at William’s robe, pushing it from his shoulders, fingers bruising in their grip. The kiss deepened, became desperate, their teeth clashing in moments, Est’s breath ragged.
And still – William kissed him back.
But his hands were slow. Gentle. Anchoring.
His touch didn’t match the hunger. It pushed against it.
“Est,” he whispered again.
Est ignored him.
His hand had slipped between them now, palm pressing hard between William’s thighs.
William gasped softly – but instead of giving in, he gripped Est’s wrist and pulled it back.
“I said stop.”
Est finally froze, lips hovering just at the curve of William’s neck.
The room was full of heat. Of ragged breathing. Of all the things unsaid.
When William pulled back, Est let him go – jaw tense, eyes hard, breathing like he’d just come from a fight. His lips were red. So were his knuckles, from how tightly he was clenching his fists.
And then he shoved his hands through his hair and sat back roughly in the chair, looking away from William completely.
“Fine,” he muttered. “Just forget it.”
William stood there a moment. His robe was loose, half fallen, his lips swollen, his chest rising and falling – but his voice stayed steady.
“Don’t do this.”
Est didn’t respond.
“Don’t act like I rejected you. Like you were offering yourself and I said no.” He stepped forward. “You weren’t trying to be close. You were trying to prove something. You were trying to use it.”
That made Est’s eyes flick to him – sharp, wounded, ashamed.
“I didn’t – “
“You were,” William said, not unkindly. “You still are.”
The silence stretched taut.
William sighed softly, stepping forward again – and without waiting for permission, he climbed into Est’s lap himself.
Est stiffened. Didn’t meet his gaze. Didn’t touch him.
So William took his face gently between his hands and tilted it upward.
“Look at me.”
Reluctantly, Est did.
“I’m not James,” William said. “And you’re not what he said. And I will not let you act like the only thing you have to offer is sex. Or strength. Or silence.”
Est tried to look away again – but William held firm.
William kissed him again, slow and searching – and whispered the words like a balm:
“Don’t be like this.”
Est didn’t answer.
So William kissed him again.
“I’m not leaving.”
Est’s eyes were sharp. Painful. “You should.”
But William only shook his head. And then, he said the last thing Est expected:
“Then prove it.”
That caught him off guard. “What?”
William didn’t break eye contact. “If you want to prove something to me, then do it. I’m right here. I’m not scared of you.”
And something in Est snapped.
Est didn’t say a word for a long second.
His fingers curled around William’s waist, the muscles in his jaw working as he stared at the younger man in his lap – his prince, who still looked at him like he wasn’t ruined, like he hadn’t just tried to push him away with his own mouth and hands. Who had crawled back into his lap and whispered the gentlest challenge:
“Prove it.”
Est didn’t move right away.
But the quiet, the tenderness – it made something in him crack.
It was too much.
Too fucking much.
“I don’t want your patience,” he snapped suddenly, pulling back. “I don’t want your softness, your pity. You think you know me? You don’t.”
William blinked, startled by the sudden shift. “Est – “
“I hate you,” Est hissed, voice shaking, fists clenched at his sides. “I hate the way you talk to me like I’m some wounded thing you’ve taken in. Like I’m yours to fix. I wish I’d never met you. I wish I’d never let you touch me.”
The words landed like slaps – hard and fast and cold.
William stiffened.
He didn’t flinch.
But he felt every syllable, sharp and hot, like a blade pressed to his ribs.
Est’s eyes were wild, something brittle and burning just beneath them. “I gave up everything,” he spat. “My name, my choices, my future. For what? To kneel in front of some spoiled prince who gets off on pretending this is more than a contract?”
William opened his mouth – but no sound came out.
He wanted to defend himself.
He wanted to say I never asked you to kneel.
But he didn’t.
Because beneath all the fury, he saw it – clear as day. The trembling of Est’s hands. The slight hitch in his breath. The fear hiding behind the venom.
He was lashing out. Because he didn’t know what else to do with the ache in his chest.
William took a breath. Swallowed the sting. It hurt. Of course it hurt.
But Est was hurting more.
“I don’t think it’s just a contract,” William said softly. “I don’t think you do either.”
“Don’t pretend you know what I think,” Est bit back. “You just want a loyal little body to warm your bed. You want me quiet and obedient and soft – just enough edge to keep it interesting, right?”
“That’s not fair,” William said, quieter now. Still steady. Still calm. “You know that’s not true.”
“Do I?” Est’s laugh was bitter, too loud in the stillness. “You’re royalty. You get everything you want. You don’t know what it means to need someone the way I need you. To fear being replaced.”
That one hit harder than the rest.
Because William did know.
Because he’d felt it every night Est pulled away. Every time Est kissed him like it was goodbye. Every time he wondered if this was the last time Est would let him hold him like something more.
But still, he didn’t fight back.
He just looked at him – eyes full of quiet ache.
“I’m not trying to replace you,” William said. “I’m trying…”
Est scoffed. “Right. And when the contract ends? You’ll marry some noblewoman, and I’ll go back to being a faceless soldier, a forgotten thing you once owned.”
William’s jaw clenched. He looked away. That image – of Est gone, of Est slipping out of his world like smoke – hit somewhere too deep.
But when he looked back, his voice was still gentle.
“I don’t want to own you.”
Est said nothing.
“I want to choose you,” William murmured. “Every day. Even when you say things that hurt.”
Silence fell again. Tighter. Heavier. Like the space between them was holding its breath.
Est turned away, shoulders tense. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
William moved closer. Not to touch him, not yet – but to be near. “Maybe I don’t. But I know what I feel. And I know I’m not afraid of your anger.”
Est flinched.
“I know you’re hurting,” William continued. “I know you’re scared. And if saying those things makes it easier, then go ahead. Say them. I can take it.”
Something in Est fractured. Snapped apart.
He moved quickly – mouth colliding with William’s in a bruising kiss as he gripped the back of his thighs, standing and carrying him effortlessly toward the bed. Their mouths never broke. Teeth scraped. Tongues tangled. It wasn’t graceful, but William held on tight – his fingers in Est’s hair, pulling, anchoring him.
His hands gripping his hips almost too tight as he stood, lifting William with him and moving toward the bed like he was done pretending he could resist. He kissed like it hurt. Like he was angry at how much he wanted this. Angry at himself.
They fell onto the sheets in a tangle of limbs, Est on top, pressing him down, lips dragging from William’s mouth to his throat, biting hard enough to mark. His hands were rough, yanking open the folds of William’s robe, baring his chest, his hips, every soft inch of him.
But William – William didn’t resist.
He let him.
“Est,” William breathed, half moan, half warning.
But Est didn’t stop. He kissed down his chest, teeth catching on a nipple, sucking it into his mouth until William gasped and arched up beneath him. One hand stayed on William’s hip, holding him down. The other wandered lower – fingers curling possessively around the prince’s cock, already half-hard, already leaking.
“This,” Est muttered against his skin, voice low and ragged. “This is mine.”
William didn’t flinch. His arms came up around Est’s shoulders, calm even as he gasped between kisses. “I wish you’d stop trying to prove things with your cock and talk to me, Est – “
But the words were lost as Est kissed him again, rougher, biting at his lower lip until it was red and wet and swollen. Est barely paused before diving in again – licking across his chest, sucking a nipple into his mouth, then dragging his teeth down the center of William’s abdomen.
William let out a soft noise, hips twitching, but he didn’t argue. His hands found Est’s face, urging him back up until they were kissing again – messily now, desperately – as Est ground their hips together, cock against cock, friction sharp and aching.
Clothes were shed in blind urgency. Est’s mouth returned to William’s chest, his stomach, then lower – kissing and biting his way down before flipping him onto his stomach and spreading him open with strong hands.
William gasped, turning his head. “Est – “
But Est was already there, tongue slick and hot as it pressed between his cheeks, licking slowly, purposefully over his hole – and the startled noise William made was nearly a cry. He buried his face in the pillow, breath shuddering, back arching as Est held him open and worked his tongue deeper, slower, filthier.
“You’re mine,” Est muttered again, more like a plea now, voice hoarse against his skin.
William’s reply was a broken moan.
“Est – fuck – wait – ” William hissed, breath catching, but Est didn’t stop. His hand wrapped around William’s cock, stroking him with purpose, fast and tight, even as he licked lower, spreading William’s thighs with strong hands.
“You want me,” Est muttered, voice hoarse with something darker. “You act like you’re above it, like it’s not about this – but you want this.”
William let out a shuddering breath. “I do want you. But not like this.”
But Est was already between his legs, licking a wet stripe over his hole before pushing his tongue in, fucking him with it deep and filthy. William gasped, thighs twitching, hands fisting in the sheets as Est groaned against him, devouring him like he couldn’t stop.
It was possessive. Desperate. Like he needed to mark William from the inside out.
When Est finally pulled back to slick his fingers and press them inside, he didn’t take his time. Two at once, then three, scissoring roughly, stretching him open. William winced but didn’t push him away – just closed his eyes, breathing deep, staying with him.
Est lined himself up a second later, and with one long, hard thrust, he sank in to the hilt. The stretch burned. Est didn’t give him time to adjust. He just thrust deep, a sharp, angry rhythm that felt like punishment.
William gasped, back arching, body tightening around him. Est held him there, buried deep, his forehead pressed to William’s shoulder, panting.
Est’s forehead dropped to William’s back as he bottomed out – buried to the hilt, shaking with the effort not to lose control. William’s body clenched around him, hot and tight and perfect, and Est had to close his eyes, breathing hard through his nose.
“I’m not – fuck, I’m not a thing to be passed around,” he said roughly, voice cracking. “I’m not yours to parade. I need you to know that.”
“I know,” William breathed, his fingers threading into Est’s damp hair. “You’re not a possession. You’re mine because I chose you.”
Est’s rhythm was hard at first – deep, punishing thrusts that made the bed creak. He gripped William’s thighs, shoved them higher, forcing himself deeper. William whimpered, eyes fluttering shut, taking it – taking him – without complaint.
Est didn’t stop. Didn’t slow. He gripped William’s hips, pulling him back into every thrust with bruising force. He was angry – no, he was hurt. And he didn’t know what to do with it except fuck like he was trying to bury it in William’s body.
William took it. Let him. Pushed back into it, even.
“You’re okay,” he murmured, voice cracked but steady. “I’m here. You’re okay.”
Est didn’t reply. He kept thrusting, harder, faster, breath ragged. His teeth grazed William’s neck as he bent over him, panting curses, broken fragments of thought.
“Let it out,” William whispered. “I can take it. I want to take it.”
Even as his knees slipped on the sheets, even as Est gripped his waist tight enough to leave finger-shaped bruises, William kept whispering.
“You’re not too much,” he murmured. “You’re not wrong for wanting. Just – don’t disappear. Don’t go quiet on me after.”
“You think this means anything to me?” Est hissed. “You think I like crawling into your bed like a dog?”
“Est, please,” William said again, trying to reach him, to meet his eyes.
But Est didn’t look at him. He pressed forward harder, angrier, deeper. “I wish I never agreed to this. You ruined me.”
William swallowed. The words pierced. He forced a shaky breath, trying to stay calm. “You don’t mean that.”
“You don’t get to tell me what I mean.” Est’s voice was sharp. Almost wild. “You sit there like you understand. Like you’re being kind. But you don’t get it. You don’t know what it’s like to be owned.”
“I don’t own you,” William whispered.
“You do,” Est snarled. “You say I’m free, but I’m not. I’m yours. Everyone knows it. And you love it, don’t you? The way I come running when you crook your finger. The way I lie down for you like a good little servant.”
“That’s not – “
“I hate you.”
The words hit harder this time. They were too loud. Too cruel. And this time, William flinched.
He turned his face away, eyes fixed on the wall.
His throat closed up. His vision blurred slightly, just for a second.
He didn’t say anything. Didn’t argue.
Est kept moving inside him, fast and unforgiving. But the silence from William was louder than anything.
It wasn’t defiant. It wasn’t cold.
It was hurt.
He turned his head away, fast – like he didn’t want to give Est the satisfaction of seeing his face. But Est had already seen it.
The shine in his eyes. The tight line of his jaw. The way his chest rose with a breath he clearly didn’t trust himself to let out.
He quickly reached for Est, pulling him closer – burying Est’s face into the curve of his neck.
But it was too late.
And Est felt it. Felt the shift in William’s body – tense, trembling, but not from pleasure. He paused, barely, and glanced down.
William’s eyes were wet. His jaw was tight.
“I know you don’t mean it,” William whispered finally, voice barely audible. “But gods… you know how to make it hurt.”
Est froze.
His chest heaved with shallow breaths. His hands were still gripping William’s thighs, but they’d stopped bruising.
He stayed inside him, unmoving now. Staring at William’s turned face. At the flush in his cheeks that wasn’t from arousal anymore. At the quiet sting of rejection that hadn’t come from words – but from being called hated by the one person he –
No. Not that.
Est looked away. Closed his eyes. His breathing ragged.
“I didn’t mean it,” he muttered.
William didn’t move. Didn’t look at him. “Don’t say that just because you saw I cried.”
Est didn’t respond.
Not with words.
He kept moving, slower now. The rhythm faltered. His anger ebbed and left something hollow in its place. His release came quietly, with none of the force it had held before – just a sharp breath against William’s throat, a tremble that bled into stillness.
He stayed inside him, breathing heavily.
But William never moved.
Didn’t push him away.
Est’s eyes slipped shut.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice coarse. “I really didn’t mean what I said.”
William was quiet for a long moment, then nodded. “Yes, I know.”
“I was angry.”
“I know,” William repeated, gentler now.
“I didn’t – ” Est’s voice cracked. He pulled out slowly, careful now, unlike before. His hands touched William’s hips, then stilled. “I don’t hate you.”
“I know.”
Est sat back on his knees, looking at William now, really looking – at the flush on his cheeks, the smudged corners of his eyes, the slight curve of his mouth that tried to hold something in.
He’d hurt him. Not just physically. He could see it.
But William hadn’t left. Hadn’t asked him to stop. Had let Est take and rage and burn – and still, he was here. Silent. Breathing. Eyes on Est.
It undid him.
“I want to make it up to you,” Est said, quietly but with unmistakable certainty. “Let me… Let me take care of you.”
William looked at him for a moment, then nodded again.
And this time, when Est leaned forward, it wasn’t rough. His lips brushed along William’s jaw, slow and reverent. His hands skimmed gently down his sides, stroking the sore skin as if he could soothe away the ghosts of his own mistakes.
He kissed his way down – thigh, hip, belly, the inside of a trembling leg.
William shivered. Not from pain. From feeling.
Est took his time, mouthing at the insides of William’s thighs, letting his tongue soothe and coax and worship what his anger had once claimed like a weapon. Every touch was slow. Every breath deliberate.
When he finally took William into his mouth, it was soft and wet and warm, his tongue moving with care, his hand stroking in tandem. He looked up once – saw William staring down at him, chest rising and falling, that same quiet ache still lingering in his eyes.
Est worked gently, like an apology he couldn’t put into words. And when William finally came, soft gasps spilling from his lips, Est didn’t pull away.
He stayed there a moment, breathing him in.
When he moved up again, William reached for him, cradling the back of his neck, pulling their foreheads together.
“I know it’s not easy,” William murmured. “I know you didn’t mean the things you said. I know you’re scared.”
Est closed his eyes. He hated how much it stung to be seen so clearly.
He just leaned forward slowly and pressed his forehead to William’s shoulder. Still trembling.
And William, even though his eyes still stung – reached up, slowly, and touched the back of his head.
Not to forgive.
Not to forget.
But to remind him he was still here.
Even after everything.
They stayed like that for a long time.
Est’s chest pressed to William’s, his arms still holding him like muscle memory didn’t know how to let go. His breath was hot against William’s throat, and he was still. Unmoving.
He lay back, the silence stretching.
Not cold. Not cruel. Just… quiet.
William watched him in the half-light. Est’s brows were drawn, his lips parted like he wanted to say something but didn’t trust himself to speak. His hands were fisted in the sheets.
And William had seen enough of him now – all of him – to know what that meant.
He sat up, heart aching.
Then, without hesitation, he climbed into Est’s lap.
Est startled a little but didn’t resist. His hands came to William’s thighs instinctively, but he didn’t look up.
So William took his face in his hands, gentle but insistent, and tilted his head up.
“I know what you were trying to prove tonight,” he whispered.
Est flinched – barely – but William saw it.
“You were trying to prove you’re just a body to me. That this is just sex. That I’ll get tired. That I’ll leave.”
Est’s eyes flickered. Still, he didn’t speak.
“I’m not letting you win that argument,” William said, firm now. “You don’t get to decide what you mean to me.”
He kissed Est’s forehead, soft and lingering.
“You think I just want you when you’re making me feel good,” he said, “but I want you. Even when you’re angry. Even when you’re quiet. Even when you say you hate me. Even when you’re trying to push me away.”
Est’s jaw clenched.
William pressed another kiss to the corner of his mouth.
“So here’s what’s going to happen,” he whispered. “One month. No sex. Nothing physical. Just you and me.”
Est’s eyes finally met his – wide, uncertain.
“I’ll still be here. Every day. Every night,” William said. “Because I want you in every way. Not just in bed.”
He stroked Est’s hair back, slow and patient.
“You’re not just some thing I use,” he whispered. “You’re not a whore. And you’re not temporary. You’re mine. And I’m yours, whether or not we ever fuck again.”
Est exhaled shakily, like the words cut deeper than William even intended.
“I’ll show you,” William said. “I’ll show you that you matter. That you’re more.”
Still, Est didn’t speak.
Est’s arms were still around him, his face hidden in William’s neck, but his voice came out low and rough, barely more than breath.
And then, finally, in the smallest voice William had ever heard from him –
“Why?”
William blinked, lifting his head slightly, not understanding.
Est didn’t look at him. His face was still pressed to William’s shoulder, his voice low and unsteady.
“Why would you want that?” he asked. “A month with no sex.”
William softened. “Est – “
“Don’t lie,” Est said immediately, like he was begging. “Please, just don’t lie to me.”
His arms tightened, the muscles in his back pulled taut. “You don’t have to pretend you want something else. I know what this is. What it’s always been.“
William sat still for a moment, heart caught in his throat.
Est swallowed. “You wanted someone loyal. Obedient. Someone who wouldn’t betray you. And in return you’d give me protection. Money. Safety for my family.”
William closed his eyes for a second. Est’s voice wasn’t bitter – that was what made it worse. He wasn’t accusing anymore. He was convinced.
“That was the deal,” Est whispered. “That’s the reason I let you take me. The reason I gave you everything.”
There was no anger. Only quiet devastation.
“So why are you being nice to me?” Est asked. “Why do you keep making it harder?”
William could barely breathe. He leaned back just enough to see Est’s face, his thumbs brushing his flushed, damp cheeks. His eyes were red-rimmed, refusing to meet William’s.
“I’m not pretending,” William said gently.
Est’s eyes flickered.
“And you’re not just someone I let stay in my bed. I like you.”
The words seemed to punch through Est’s chest. His breath stuttered, and William watched it hit him like something he’d never prepared for.
“I like you,” William repeated, firmer this time. “Not just your body. Not because of what you do for me.”
Est’s brow knit, his mouth slightly parted, like he didn’t know what to say – like his whole world had tilted sideways.
William lifted a hand to cup his jaw.
“I like the way you act so unaffected, even when you’re burning inside. I like the way you protect people even when no one’s watching. I like the way you look at me like I’m more than just my name, even when you don’t realize you’re doing it.”
Est’s breath was shaking again.
“And I know you like me too,” William said. “Even when you say you hate me.”
Est didn’t answer. Couldn’t. His jaw clenched and unclenched.
“If this was just sex,” William said softly, “you wouldn’t care when I talk to someone else. You wouldn’t be this jealous. Or possessive. You wouldn’t kiss me like that.”
Est flinched, eyes flicking up to his – the barest flash of fear behind them. Vulnerable. Exposed.
William leaned in, pressing their foreheads together, whispering like it was only for Est’s ears.
“You wouldn’t break like this if it didn’t matter.”
Est’s chest heaved. William felt it under his hands – every quiet ache Est had been hiding finally letting itself be seen.
“I don’t need you to say anything,” William added. “But stop trying to prove something that isn’t true. You’re not a thing. You’re not mine because I bought you.”
He pulled back just enough to look at Est fully. “You’re with me because we both wanted this. And it stopped being just sex a long time ago.”
Something in Est gave way.
Not with a sob. Not even with words. Just his hands suddenly fisting around William, pulling him closer like he couldn’t bear the distance anymore. His eyes were glassy, mouth tight, and William felt the swell of his breath where their chests met.
And underneath all of it – the pain, the disbelief – was something rising like a tide.
Longing.
Need.
Something that hadn’t been there the first time William had ever touched him. But had slowly, undeniably, grown.
It crashed over him now. The weight of everything they hadn’t said. Everything he’d tried to ignore. And still, William hadn’t needed to be pushed.
He chose to say it.
Est had never wanted anything so badly in his life – and it terrified him.
“I hurt you.” His voice cracked. “I keep hurting you.”
William opened his mouth to respond, but Est didn’t let him.
“I say things I don’t mean. I try to scare you away. I fuck you like I want to punish you, and then I pretend like it didn’t happen.” His shoulders were trembling. “I’ve been awful to you, and you still come back.”
He gritted his teeth. “I don’t understand it.”
William wrapped his arms tighter around him, but Est kept talking – like he’d been holding it in too long to stop now.
“I’ve been angry for so long. And I keep taking it out on you. Every time I feel something I don’t know how to deal with, I turn it into hate, and I throw it at you – because you’re here. Because you look at me like I’m something worth holding on to, and it scares the shit out of me.”
William’s throat tightened.
“I don’t know how to be good for you,” Est said, voice raw. “I don’t know how to let someone be kind to me and not ruin it. I’m broken. And I keep trying to break you too.”
William lifted a hand to cradle his jaw again, thumb brushing the flush of heat on Est’s cheek.
“But you haven’t,” William said gently.
Est closed his eyes.
“I’ve tried,” he whispered. “I don’t know why you’re still here.”
William leaned in, forehead resting against his. “Because I see you. And I know you’re more than the worst things you’ve done.”
Est let out a quiet, wrecked sound. Something closer to a sob than he would ever let himself admit.
“You scare me,” he said.
William smiled faintly, his own eyes stinging again. “You scare me too.”
They stayed like that – pressed together, trembling, not speaking.
And when Est finally moved again, it was only to hold him tighter.
Because no one had ever stayed this long.
He just buried his face in William’s neck again, held him like a lifeline, and didn’t say a word.
And William let him.
—–
This chapter was difficult but inevitable. What do you guys think of William’s promise. Is it a desire to prove something to Est or to himself?
Hope y’all are enjoying the story so far.
Do leave me your thoughts in the comments.
