Page 154 of Discordant Cultivation

She was talking about her father. About his control over every aspect of her childhood—what she wore, what she ate, how she performed. Her mother enabling it with phrases like “he just wants what’s best for you“ and “you know he only does this because he loves you.”

JerichoMakesMusic

Took me years to realize that wasn’t love. That was ownership.

Part of him was glad she wanted to share so much with him. They were friends, right? Sharing those weird, sad parts with each other was a thing friends did with each other. But another part of him almost wanted to ask her to stop. It was a lot of sadness to contain in his mind when so much of his life had already been marred by sadness.

Even when he sang songs about anger and sadness and grief, it was different. It was letting those things out. But with every message from Jericho with an audio clip about vocal run, there was always a new, sad revelation about her life. It was a lot.

She still might not have anyone in her life she can talk to. You know what that’s like. Don’t be selfish and be there for her. She’s lovely.

The bathroom door opened, steam billowing out as Vale emerged with a towel around his waist and another towel in his hair.

Kieran’s breath caught. Water still beaded on Vale’s shoulders, trickling down the surprisingly defined planes of his chest. It always caught him off guard—how sculpted Vale’s body was beneath the usual sweaters and button-downs. The towel rode low on his hips, and Kieran’s gaze traced the cut of muscle atVale’s sides, the dark trail of hair that disappeared beneath white terry cloth.

Vale noticed him staring. “What?”

Heat flooded his face even as his body responded with immediate, honest wanting. He closed the laptop quickly—not slamming it, just shutting it with more force than necessary—and the words tumbled out before he could stop them, “You l-look sexy.”

Vale froze mid-step, the towel slipping from his hair. His eyebrows shot up, and then—

He blushed. An actual flush spreading across his cheeks as a wide, almost dopey grin broke across his face. “Yeah?”

Kieran’s own embarrassment doubled, but he nodded. He’d said worse things in the throes of lessons, gasped out fragments during intimacy, but something about saying it now—casual, unprompted, just because it was true—made his face burn hotter.

Vale’s grin widened impossibly further. He dropped the hair towel and crossed to the bed. “You can’t just say things like that and expect me to behave.”

“I d-didn’t—I just m-meant—”

But Vale was already crawling over him, caging Kieran beneath his still-damp body. The towel at his waist loosened, falling away entirely as Vale settled his weight against Kieran’s hips. He kissed him slow and deep, tasting like mint toothpaste and want.

When he pulled back, his expression was soft and fond. “You look sexy too.”

Kieran huffed a disbelieving laugh. “Are your c-contacts even in?”

Vale’s grin turned playful and he squinted. “You’re right. Let me correct myself.” He leaned down until their noses almosttouched. “You look like a very sexy blob. But you’re in my bed, which means you’re always sexy.”

Kieran laughed and Vale swallowed it with another kiss, his hands already working at Kieran’s shirt.

The laptop stayed closed. Jericho’s messages could wait until morning.

Kieran couldn’t sleep. Vale was deeply asleep beside him, breathing even and peaceful, but Kieran’s mind kept circling back to Jericho’s messages. To her words about ownership and control and love that wasn’t really love.

At 2 AM, he carefully extracted himself from Vale’s embrace and retrieved the laptop from the nightstand. The screen’s glow felt too bright in the darkness. He dimmed it, settling cross-legged on the bed while Vale slept undisturbed.

Instagram was still open from earlier. One new message notification. Kieran clicked it automatically, expecting Jericho.

His stomach dropped before he even read the message.

A.T.

Saw you’re recording with Jericho Thursday. Did Vale approve that?

Kieran stared at the words, reading them over and over while his heart rate accelerated into something close to panic. Who was this? How did they know about Thursday? The session wasn’t public yet—just him, Vale, and Jericho’s team knew about it.

“Did Vale approve that?”

Kieran closed the laptop and set it aside, his heart still racing. He didn’t respond to the message. He didn’t know how to respond, or if he should.