Page 26

Kai shook his head. “Not much. I need to record some stuff for a new game I was sent, but it’s not pressing. You?’

“Yep,” Atticus said. “Half of Sammie’s bartenders are out with some kinda stomach bug.

I’m going in this evening to help out with the closing shift.

Have a couple things I need to get done first.” He ran a hand through his hair, thinking about the fact that his roots were getting out of hand and how he needed to finally bite the bullet and pull his bleaching supplies out .

Kai nodded in acknowledgment. Atticus turned away, thinking about the laundry he needed to finish up and how he wanted to change the sheets on his bed.

“We are good.” Kai’s voice had him turning back before leaving the kitchen. He looked a little skittish still, a little uncomfortable. But he also held himself with a kind of determination Atticus wasn’t used to seeing on him.

“We’re good,” Kai continued. “And I am going to think about it all.”

A promise in those words. One that had Atticus grinning brilliantly as he nodded, that same silly smile plastered on his face as he left the room to get on with his chores.

Kai left his room, stretching as he did. It had been simple work to record a couple of promo videos. He wasn’t ready to do a full review yet, still needed to put a few more hours into the game before he could form a full opinion on it. But unboxing videos were nothing anymore.

He made his way down the hall, wondering where Atticus was. When he reached the open bathroom, Kai drew to a full halt, eyes wide as he stared at what was happening inside.

Atticus stood before the sink, latex-gloved hands held before him helplessly. He was staring hard at a small bowl filled with a white substance. Kai recognized the smell.

“Is that bleach?”

Atticus turned, and Kai almost laughed at the pitiful look on his face.

“Yeah,” he responded, letting out a huff with the word.

“What’s wrong?” Kai stepped into the small room with the question, leaning against the doorway.

“Sammie usually helps me.”

This time Kai did laugh. “Haven’t you been bleaching your hair since you were like fifteen?”

Atticus frowned. “I’m kind of terrible at it. It always comes out patchy if she doesn’t help me.”

Kai couldn’t help but marvel at the fact that Atticus Mills, arguably one of the most confident people he’d ever known, had been toppled by the fact that he didn’t know how to bleach his own hair. Kai picked up the bowl and the long-stemmed brush, stirring the mixture.

“You need to mix it more,” he said, still chuckling. “Make sure there aren’t any clumps of the powder left.”

Atticus looked at him as though Kai had just saved his life.

“Can you help me?”

Desperation and hope filled his question. He looked so pathetic standing there, hands still held up awkwardly before him, eyes wide, shoulders slumped in defeat.

Kai fought back a grin. “Sure, I can help. Here.” He set the mixture back on the counter, grabbing a white towel and draping it over Atticus' bare shoulders. He had to lean up onto his toes because of their height difference. Kai’s mouth went dry as he was forced to take in the fact that Atticus was shirtless, his broad chest and shoulders right at eye level, black ink swirling across one shoulder to trail down the length of his arm.

The designs were mesmerizing, and Kai had to make himself look away.

It had his stomach doing things he decided to ignore for the moment, careful not to touch Atticus’ skin as he pulled away.

“You’re too tall,” Kai said, keeping his words even, as though he weren’t painfully aware of every inch of skin exposed before him. “I’ll go get a stool for you.”

“Thanks!” Atticus gave him one of those grins, one of the big, silly ones that Kai hated to admit he liked best.

Once they were settled into place, Atticus on the stool, Kai standing behind him, gloves on and bleach mixture in hand, Kai finally spoke again .

“Ready?”

“Yep!” All trepidation was gone from Atticus' countenance as he waited for Kai to get started.

A thought gave Kai pause, though. He looked down at the shirt he was wearing. He really liked this one.

“Just a second,” he mumbled, setting the supplies down once again. He yanked his shirt over his head, tossing it into the corner, far away from the bleach. Atticus glanced over his shoulder, but made no comment. Kai didn’t miss the hint of pink dusting his cheeks.

As Kai began to spread the mixture into floppy, soft hair, focusing on the roots, he was glad for the towel on Atticus' shoulders. If he’d had to deal with the sight of that broad back, the solid muscles there shifting with every tiny movement his friend made, he might not have been able to get through it.

“I didn’t start messing with my hair until I was sixteen, thank you very much.”

Kai snorted, meeting Atticus’ stare in the mirror above the sink. “Why did you start?”

Atticus shrugged, and Kai poked his back to keep him still. “Because Sammie went through a blonde phase. People stopped thinking we were twins. Teenage me didn’t know how to handle the fact that we were finally developing our own separate identities.”

“So the solution was to bleach your hair?”

Atticus chuckled, looking down at his hands.

“It was so bad back then. Yellow, fried to oblivion. Sammie’s was just as awful, but she’ll never admit it.

She gave up on blonde after six months, but by then it had sort of grown on me.

And I’d started to realize that just because we weren’t just ‘the twins’ anymore, it didn’t mean I was going to lose her. ”

A tug in Kai’s chest had him focusing hard on the task at hand. The soft, fond smile that crinkled the corners of Atticus’ eyes was too much as a current flickered through Kai’s veins.

“That’s kinda cute.”

A brighter smile, one that wasn’t steeped in memories, but was full of something only for Kai. It radiated with hope, and it made Kai feel too full of things he didn’t want to think about.

They were silent for a while as Kai worked. Every so often he would use his hand instead of the brush to spread the mixture evenly. It was hard to ignore the way Atticus reacted to that, leaning in to every touch, breaths shuddering out as Kai’s fingers ran along his scalp.

It wasn’t long before the back and most of the sides of his hair were done. Kai pressed lightly on his shoulder, just above one curling tail of the nine-tailed fox inked along his arm.

“Need you to turn around.” The words came out weaker than he’d intended. Something about the whole situation was affecting Kai in a way he hadn’t been expecting. Maybe the fumes were getting to him.

Atticus shifted on the stool, turning his body so that he was facing Kai fully. His eyes were heavy lidded, cheeks still a little flushed. Kai’s breath hitched at the sight. He paused, gathering himself before leaning in to continue.

Atticus' eyes fell closed the moment Kai’s hand was back in his hair. Kai abandoned the brush fully, unable to stop himself from using his fingers alone to run the mixture along Atticus' roots. He could feel soft breaths against his chest, warm and uneven.

As Kai worked his way down the side of Atticus' face, following his hairline, his fingers grazed behind an ear.

Atticus let out a sound, small and breathless.

Kai felt a hand at his hip, fingers brushing lightly over the skin just above his pants.

A trail of fire lit there, at every point where Atticus touched him .

Kai held his breath as he ran his fingers over the same spot, only breathing out when the hand at his waist tightened.

“I need you to tilt your head,” Kai said. Atticus obeyed immediately, head leaning to the side as a thumb ran along Kai’s hip. Kai let out an unsteady laugh.

“Good boy.”

A harsh breath escaped Atticus at those two words, and he tugged Kai a little closer.

Kai struggled to keep his hands steady, struggled to ignore how close Atticus' lips were to his skin. Just the slightest shift from either of them and those lips could be on Kai’s neck, could run along his collarbone.

Kai swallowed, his mouth too dry. Focus. He needed to focus. He was helping his friend bleach his hair, that was all.

His friend that he’d jerked off the night before. His friend that he’d fantasized about earlier that day. His friend that he was potentially considering in not friend ways.

Moving along, Kai tugged a little at Atticus' hair to tilt his head in the right direction, no longer trusting his voice to give commands.

Another sound left Atticus, a sound that was deeper and filled with more heat than before.

Kai was breathing harder, his chest rising and falling in rhythm with his racing pulse.

It didn’t take long to finish up, but Kai found himself not wanting to pull away.

Both of Atticus' hands were on his waist now, holding tight and steady.

They were each a little breathless, Kai still standing over Atticus.

He sort of liked it, the way he was finally able to look down on the taller man.

It reminded him of the night they’d spent together, of what it had been like to be in Atticus' lap. Of the thrill it had given him, having the other man relinquish any power beneath him. The way Atticus had turned to putty as soon as Kai had taken charge.

The bleach was setting, Atticus' roots growing lighter by the second, and Kai had yet to pull away.

One hand was still in Atticus' hair, still running through the damp strands. He moved the other, the one that had held the bowl and was therefore still clean, running his fingers along the tattoos that sprawled over pale skin, before trailing them up Atticus’ neck.

He pressed a gloved thumb along Atticus' jawline and thought that maybe he could feel his racing pulse. Thought that maybe it matched his own.