Page 61 of Don't Shoot Me Santa

“No. I’m lucky you’re a filthy enabler with a control kink and a martyr complex.”

Kenny raised an eyebrow, gliding a hand up Aaron’s bare torso beneath the open fleece. He flicked the metal ring of his nipple piercing, just enough to make him jolt. “Control kink?”

“You think I don’t know?” Aaron rolled his eyes. “I love it, by the way. Cause I get to fight you for it. I don’t let anyone else treat me as mean as you do.”

Kenny gave his nipple bolt a lazy twist. “Good. Because if you let anyone else, I’d rip this out with my teeth.”

Aaron’s breath hitched, but he smiled. “That’s better. Own me, old man. You fuckingownme. Now say something nice before I combust.”

“You’re beautiful.”

Aaron rolled his eyes. “Something not literallyeveryonealready knows.”

Kenny peeled off one side of Aaron’s fleece to reveal his shoulder and licked his skin. “You taste fucking perfect first thing in the morning. Like sin. Better than coffee.”

“Coffee tastes likes shit.”

“Alright. Better than air, then.”

“What does air even taste like?”

“Life.”

Aaron melted then, and he grabbed Kenny’s face to kiss him. With tongue. Heat. And impossible hunger. And Kenny hummed, gripping him close, possessive.

Until he realised what Aaron was doing and pulled away. “Nice try.”

Aaron growled in frustration, then turned back to the pictures. Kenny adjusted the fleece back over Aaron’s shoulder but slid his hand inside it, stroking his spine, warming his fingers on Aaron’s skin.

Aaron tapped the photo. “Look at his jaw. It’s still clenched. He never gave up.”

Kenny followed his gaze, seeing not just the photo, but what Aaron saw beneath it. “Go on.”

Aaron shifted on his lap. “The killer’s picking those who survive shit no one sees. Who carry it like it’s their fault and learned early how to vanish to stay safe, but not enough to go unnoticed.”

Kenny kissed his hair. “You’re good at this.”

Aaron gave a brittle laugh. “Yeah. Shocker. Can’t imagine why.”

“Osmosis.”

“Maybe it’s in your spunk.”

Kenny chuckled. “Highly transmissible.”

Aaron slumped back onto Kenny’s shoulder, and he felt the way he stilled. Not the good kind. Not the kind thatmeant surrender. This was the brittle, held-breath kind. His body leaned in, yes. But not fully. Enough to whisperI’m tiredwithout ever saying it aloud. And how Aaron had reacted then, with the need for fight, then compliments, thenhunger…it was all there. In the rhythm. The push and pull. The performance. Something more was going on.

So Kenny laid a hand on the bottom of his spine. “You working today?”

Aaron closed his eyes. “Yeah.”

There it was. The tell. The tension tightening his shoulders, the way his limbs seemed to brace. The armour clicking back into place. Invisible but palpable. Kenny could feel the sharp edges pressing into his hand. Protective spikes grown from years of needing them.

He didn’t want them there. But he understood why they were.

“The lurcher?”

A pause. Then, “Poor thing.” The words rasped out of Aaron, rough and low.