I fell asleep on the couch. It wasn't meant to happen, but it was a comfy couch and I was dead tired after spending a day actually doing something. In fact, I was sleeping heavily enough not to notice when the front door opened and closed. Something like that would never have happened before meeting Matthews. The regular version of me was constantly on high-alert. This was an oddity—an oddity I didn't realize until Matthews shook my shoulder.
"Ethan, let's get you into a bed instead."
I mumbled something in reply that even I couldn't make sense of.
"Come on." Matthews scooped me up from the couch as if I was a child. Admittedly, I wasn't a big guy, but he shouldn't have been able to carry me around like that. It wasn't normal.
"I can walk," I mumbled, this time a bit more coherent.
He didn't reply, but he let me down and helped me find my balance.
"Told you not to wait up."
"I wasn't."
Matthews breathed out something that might have been half a chuckle. It was a tired sound.
"What time is it?"
"Four-thirty."
"You should be asleep," I reasoned.
"That's why we're getting to bed."
At that point I was lucid enough to understand that he meant his bed, or at least that we would sleep together. I didn't mind. Not one bit. I had a plan to put into action, and sleeping together was definitely included in that.
Matthews tried to ask me a few questions about Tilia and our day as he walked me through the house, but I was far too preoccupied with ideas of how to seduce this man to find any answers. Words slipped off my tongue, but I had no clue what I was saying.
"You sang?"
Had I told him that? No. No. Just no. Too embarrassing.
"Never tell a soul," I ordered.
Matthews' hand squeezed mine as we climbed the last step of the stairs. "Maybe I will, maybe I won't."
He was teasing me. The bastard!
Matthews let out another soft chuckle. "Don't pout, Ethan. I won't tell anyone if you're embarrassed."
The comment only made it worse. My cheeks flared with heat and the floor suddenly became very interesting.
Matthews pulled me into his bedroom, let go of my hand and swiftly got out of his shirt, showing off more skin than I could handle without gulping at the sight. That's not how it should happen, I thought. I wanted to help him with that. Stripping off his clothes was also on the list of things to do. However, before I could voice any sort of objection, he stepped in front of me and grasped the fabric of my sweater. His eyes find mine for confirmation, then with a quick tug, he got it off and let it fall to the floor.
I could hardly breathe. "We-We're going to fast." The objection sounded feeble at best, and I wasn't even sure why I objected in the first place. Perhaps it was because the logical part of my brain reminded me that I didn't trust him yet. He had spent the night at his club, and that meant that anything could have happened. He wasn't mine. He was a free man—free to do anything he wanted.
"Don't worry. We're going to sleep, nothing more."
"Okay." And fuck if I didn't sound dejected. Matthews arched an eyebrow, but when I didn't say anything else, he steered me to the bed.
"Is it okay if I sleep only in my boxers?" he asked. I nodded. Of course that was okay. Or at least I thought so until his pants dropped to the floor, pooling around his ankles. To prevent myself from doing anything stupid, I turned around and got out of mine before making my way to the right side of the bed. I couldn't look at him, not even for a second.
I dove under the covers and stared up at the ceiling, wide awake. Falling asleep now would probably be about as easy as stopping a train at full speed. That was a stupid metaphor, which proved that I was far more tired than I thought. My mind was off. Turned off. Very turned off. Everything was turned off. Right.
Closing my eyes, I snuggled deeper into the covers and tried to relax. That strategy might have worked if not for the fact that Matthews arm snaked around my chest and closed the distance between our bodies.
Spooning.
Calm down, Ethan, I told myself.
Matthews must have been too tired to notice how tense I was, because minutes after, his breaths turned even, fanning across my sensitive neck which didn't help me at all.
At some point, I fell asleep, lodged against Matthews' chest like it was the most natural thing in the world.
———
Tilia came in during the early morning hours, bouncing into the bed with fresh energy. Matthews groaned, not yet ready to wake up.
Disentangling myself from his grasp, I sat up and rubbed my eyes.
"Good morning, sunshine."
"Ethan, pancakes." She sounded like the happiest creature alive.
"Only if you can be really quiet until we get downstairs. Your daddy needs to sleep."
Tilia smiled and drew a finger across her lips to zip them up. I ruffled her hair and grinned. She was adorable.
Feeling very much exposed, wearing only my boxers, I got out of bed and pulled on the first thing I found laying around. The t-shirt was big enough to fit two of me, but at least I found a pair of pants that didn't fall off. I frowned when I realized that they were mine. I had allowed him to buy me clothes. Weird. Normally, I hated any sort of charity because it always came at a price.
I turned around just in time to see Tilia sneak out of the room. Smiling, my eyes traveled to the man laying curled up on the bed. He looked peaceful. Torn between the wish to lay down next to him again, and the need to go downstairs, I stood there for a while like a creepy stalker. Shaking my head, I let out a deep breath and went downstairs.
Tilia had the recipe ready when I entered the kitchen. She had the wrong page open, but still. This time, I worked my way through the guidance with more confidence, and it wasn't long until I served her the first pancake.
We ate alone, but the house felt less empty than last night when we experimented with making pizza. Knowing that Matthews was upstairs and not back at the club made all the difference.
I was becoming possessive which wasn't a desirable trait. I didn't know I had it in me.
Saving some pancakes for Matthews, Tilia and I finished up and went into the living room. She had a corner in there filled with various kinds of things to play with. Finding a piece of paper and some crayons, she sat down on the floor and forgot about me being there.
I sank down in the sofa and stared out the window. The world outside remained a dull gray. The snow remained in cold hollows, but the rest of the landscape was painted in earthy colors. The sky seemed ready to open up to another snowfall, or perhaps a cold rain. My mood tended to follow the weather, so I sat there, letting desolate thoughts invade my comfort.
Sam was still out there. I needed a way to get him off my case. The confidence I'd felt the other day, thinking that he would see reason if I confronted him, evaporated. Sam would be pissed that I hadn't paid his money in time. Also, I wasn't closer to finding those 5 grands than I had been the day I met him on the street.
I needed a job. Babysitting Tilia was still on the table, but self-preservation stopped me from saying yes. No matter how I felt about Matthews and whatever it was we had between us, I still ached for independence. And, even if I wanted to give Matthews a chance, something told me that it might be good to spend some time away from him. Perhaps not two months, but definitely more than a few hours at a time. Staying in his house during those hours spent apart wasn't a good idea either. He was everywhere whether I liked it or not. He invaded my thoughts; he took over every other second of my life with that commanding aura he had.
Reaching the conclusion that I had to get out of the house and look for a job, I perked up at the sound of footsteps upstairs. The floorboards creaked, sending warm currents through my body.
He was awake. It was unsettling how exciting that was.
With steady steps, Matthews made his way down the stairs. From my spot, I caught sight of him as he was about to enter the kitchen.
"There you are," he said, yawning once before changing the direction of his feet. Without another word, he sat down beside me and rested his head on the back of the sofa. "I hate being this tired."
"We made pancakes. There are still some left."
Matthews grinned just as Tilia managed to break away from her drawing. "Daddy!" she exclaimed and jumped up from the floor with the paper in her hand. "Look what I made." She gave it to him and sat down in his lap.
"It's a beautiful horse, sweety."
"I wanna have a pony, Daddy. Please?"
Matthews shook his head. "You're not getting a pony until you can take care of it."
"Then a puppy?"
"No, not a puppy either. Not until you're old enough to walk it."
Tilia pouted and crawled out of his lap.
"This happens at least once every weekend. She's going to ignore me for an hour and then it's all good."
"It's good that one of us can say no to her," I said, knowing fully well that she had me wrapped around her little finger.
"I'm her dad, I have to say no once in a while. You on the other hand, can spoil her all you want until you're in charge of actually raising her."
It took a while for those words to sink in, but when they did, I lost the ability to speak. He made it sound like I would be there to help raise her one day. He sure knew how to scare the shit out of someone.
The ache started in my chest, but traveled outward and settled in my limbs. He had no idea what he was talking about. I couldn't raise a child. I had killed one.
This would never work.
A/N So, some of you might have read my message about posting an alternate version of Listen, Obey. It will be the same story but with a female character. Don't worry, this story isn't going anywhere. Anyway, I'm calling that "new" story Master of my Universe. I've decided to keep Listen, Obey as a title for now. I might change my mind again, but still.
Btw, if you want to support my efforts to write this other version, feel free to share it with those you think would like to read a story that's not mxm.
<3