Page 27

One year later…

The morning sunlight spilled through the curtains in golden streaks, pooling onto the bed in soft, lazy warmth. The air smelled of sea salt and fresh linen, the distant sound of waves crashing blending with the rhythmic hum of the wind beyond the window. Kenny stirred, stretching beneath the sheets before rolling over, instinctively reaching for Aaron. His body curled into his back, fitting against him perfectly, their skin warm from sleep. He nuzzled in, pressing his lips to Aaron’s bare shoulder, breathing him in.

Aaron hummed, a slow, lazy smile tugging at his lips. Without opening his eyes, he lifted an arm from the covers, reaching behind him to thread his fingers through Kenny’s hair, gripping, keeping him exactly where he was, with his lips pressed to Aaron’s skin, leg draped possessively over Aaron’s hip, and cock, hot and waiting, nestled against him, ready to slip inside.

The perfect morning.

Until the door burst open.

A flurry of rapid clicks echoed across the wooden floorboards, followed by an enthusiastic bundle of energy launching onto the bed, barking with absolute outrage Kenny was getting morning cuddles and not him .

Kenny groaned, rolling onto his back as an overexcited golden retriever puppy tackled Aaron, digging his little paws into his chest, licking any part of his face he could reach. Aaron laughed, ruffling the dog’s ears, letting him wriggle and wiggle his way into the sacred morning space between them.

“I hate this dog.” Kenny rubbed a hand over his face as the puppy turned its attention to him, sniffing his neck before attacking his jaw with enthusiastic licks.

“No, you don’t.” Aaron grinned, shoving the pup back down beside him, scratching behind his ears. “You love him. Admit it.”

“I regret buying him for you.” Kenny groaned as the dog flopped onto Aaron’s chest, tail wagging happily, utterly oblivious to the mood he’d just destroyed.

Aaron turned onto his side, hugging the dog to his chest, letting it lick his chin. “He’s your therapy puppy, too. And, best part, he doesn’t even ask us how we feel.”

“Because he doesn’t care.”

Aaron gasped, ruffling the dog’s ears. “Daddy’s already diagnosing you a psycho.”

Kenny exhaled, staring at the ceiling before relenting. “Not a psycho. An insufferable menace.”

“Just like me,” Aaron teased, rubbing the dog’s belly. “That’s why you love us both.”

“Debatable.”

Aaron smirked, then looked down at the pup, cupping his face gently. “It’s all right, boy.” He brushed his lips over soft golden fur. “He knows his place. Knows I’m yours.”

The dog gave Aaron one final lick before settling between them, head resting on his chest with a contented sigh. Kenny watched them, an almost unbearable warmth swelling in his chest.

This was home .

Peace.

The life they’d built together.

Kenny shifted closer, pressing his lips to Aaron’s temple, tucking his hand beneath the sheets to trace slow, teasing circles on Aaron’s hip. His touch was lazy, a promise humming between them.

“We’ll finish what we started later.” His voice was thick with the remnants of sleep and want.

Aaron grinned, stretching like a satisfied cat, body rolling against Kenny’s, sending heat curling low in his stomach. “Damn right we will.” Then, with the absolute worst timing, Aaron huffed a breath of amusement and added, “Although, aren’t we getting a visit from DI Bellend today?”

Kenny groaned, rubbing a hand over his face . “Ah. Yeah.”

Jack was visiting. Something important that apparently couldn’t be handled over the phone or via email, though Kenny strongly suspected it was Fraser forcing Jack to take a break from his desk. Not that he could deny them the excuse to come down. The thought of Fraser dragging Jack on a coastal hike was almost too good to pass up.

Still, it meant getting out of bed.

Kenny sighed and rolled out from beneath the sheets, stretching before making his way to the shower. The sound of water hitting tile filled the air, steam curling around him as he stepped beneath the spray, letting the heat sink into his muscles.

Within moments, Aaron joined him.

As Kenny expected he would. And when the door shut with a quiet click , sealing them away from the rest of the world, from the responsibilities waiting beyond, which was the small, furry menace whining outside, scratching at the wood, Aaron’s smirk was relentless and he pressed against Kenny’s back, sliding his hands over damp skin.

Kenny turned, grabbing Aaron’s wrists and pinning him to the cool glass partition, watching his pupils dilate before slamming his mouth onto his. Aaron groaned into it. Nipping him, so Kenny pulled away, grabbed the shower gel and squeezed it into his palms, smoothing it over Aaron’s chest, down his stomach, lower…

Aaron gasped as Kenny worked the liquid over him, slick and slow, his mouth devouring his, tongue teasing, deepening, tasting . Then Aaron lifted a leg, letting Kenny stroke beneath him, around him, teasing until he was trembling, biting at Kenny’s lip, whispering desperate pleas of, “Get in me, lover. Fucking get in me.”

“I will.” Kenny’s finger breached him. “Good?”

“Fuck, good, yeah. More .”

Aaron jumped, wrapping his legs around Kenny’s waist, and Kenny staggered under the weight, under the wet heat of him, before slamming Aaron’s back against the tiled wall.

“Fuck,” Aaron groaned, gripping Kenny’s hair, rolling his hips as Kenny pushed his aching length inside him, stretching him open, filling him completely.

Bliss.

Utter fucking bliss.

Water streamed over them, drenching their skin, making every touch slicker, hotter, more desperate. Aaron clung to him, muscles tightening, moaning as his cock, trapped between them, slid against Kenny’s stomach with every thrust.

“Harder,” Aaron gasped, nails dragging down Kenny’s back. “Jesus, Kenny. Fucking harder! Come on !”

Kenny bit his neck, sucking bruises into his skin, right over the tattoo inked there— his mark —as Aaron came with a ragged cry, spilling between them, the shower spray washing it away as Kenny kept driving into him. He followed moments later, crushing Aaron against the tiles, burying himself deep as he let go, pleasure ripping through him, pulling him under.

They stayed there for a moment, panting into each other, water cascading over them. Then Aaron chuckled, breathless and wrecked, rubbing a hand over his face before dropping his feet to the ground. “You’re getting old, doc,” he teased, swiping the fogged-up glass with his palm. “You almost dropped me.”

Kenny smirked, pressing a final, lingering kiss to Aaron’s throat before turning him around, shoving him under the spray and slapping his arse. “Brat.”

They washed each other after that— properly this time—still slow, still teasing, but without the same desperation. And when Aaron finally stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist and running another through his hair, he winked at Kenny before opening the door. Where Chaos came barrelling in at full speed, tail wagging, tongue lolling, his entire soul vibrating with joy. Aaron caught him, laughing as the dog launched up, licking his face like he hadn’t seen him in weeks.

“Miss me, boy?”

Kenny leaned over the sink, still dripping, still flushed from everything, and just laughed .

Because fuck , he was happy.

He dried off, rubbing a towel over his head before glancing in the mirror.

His smile was a permanent fixture now. It had taken time to get used to it.

After getting dressed, Kenny opened the front door, stepping outside into the crisp autumn air. Their path led straight down to the beach. Their beach. A secluded stretch of coastline, untouched by the usual swarm of tourists, hidden away from the crowds that flocked to the bigger, flashier parts of the island. This was different.

Quiet. Private. Theirs.

Only the few scattered houses in the village shared it, and even then, most of the locals stayed away as the colder months crept in. The sand was damp beneath his feet, darkened from the morning mist still clinging to the edges of the cliffs, curling lazily over the rugged coastline and the tide had come in strong last night, leaving behind pools of sea foam with scents of brine thick in the air.

Out on the beach, Aaron was already running, Chaos bounding at his heels, barking with wild excitement. Aaron laughed as he threw the ball, sending it soaring down the stretch of sand, before turning and sprinting straight into the shallows, letting the freezing waves hit his ankles. He didn’t even flinch. Of course he didn’t.

Kenny smiled, watching him from his usual spot. Which was two wooden chairs sat side by side, facing out toward the endless horizon. The same place where he and Aaron sat in the evenings, watching the sun sink into the sea, painting the sky in wild hues of orange and pink. Their own little ritual. A quiet claim on the life they had built. He sank into his seat, letting the cool air settle over him, but after a while, two looming shadows fell across his lap, blocking out the sun. Kenny peered up, shielding his eyes with one hand.

“Well, this looks suspicious,” Jack said, fingers loosely threaded with Fraser’s as he clutched their bags. “Dr Kenneth Lyons relaxing? A smile on his face? Is this a case of the body snatchers?”

Kenny shot up, pulling Jack into a firm hug, then Fraser, clapping him on the back. “Why didn’t you call from the port? I would have given you directions.”

“It’s okay, we have all the mod cons of a sat nav.”

“Sometimes those things take you right off the cliff.”

Jack chuckled, peering out toward the beach, where Aaron and Chaos were tearing across the shoreline. “That yours?”

“ Yeah ,” Kenny said with an affectionate shake of his head. “And the dog.”

Jack chuckled. “So, not a completely unchaotic life? He must make a mess.”

“Which one?”

“I suspect both.”

“Great detective skills.” Kenny’s chest warmed at the sight of Aaron—free, alive, his . “Wouldn’t have him any other way.” He smiled, then ushered them to the house. “Come inside. Let me take your bags, show you around. Then we’ll grab some drinks and bring out the deck chairs.”

Kenny led them through the cottage, showing them to the spare room. It was small but cosy, with a view of the cliffs and the sea beyond. Then they all pitched in, carrying glasses, a cool box packed with drinks and snacks, and two fold-up chairs before making their way back down to the beach.

By the time they returned, Aaron had finished his run, hair damp from the sea spray, cheeks flushed from the wind. He strode up to them, shaking Jack and Fraser’s hands, before going to drop onto a chair only for Chaos to leap up and claim it for himself.

Aaron huffed out a laugh, rolling his eyes. “Traitor.”

Then, instead of bothering to find another seat, he climbed right into Kenny’s lap, settling against his chest like he belonged there.

But, of course, he did .

Kenny rubbed slow, soothing circles over his back, trailing his fingers under his jumper. They cracked open drinks, passing them around, and the conversation fell into an easy rhythm. Small talk. Stories from the past year. Catching up on the mundane. Fraser talked about the new hiking trails he wanted to drag Jack through. Jack grumbled about paperwork, but Kenny could tell he didn’t really hate it as much as he claimed. Aaron, as always, kept sneaking Chaos snacks, grinning whenever Kenny shot him a knowing glare.

But eventually, the conversation had to turn.

Jack reached into his jeans pocket, pulling out a crumpled envelope. He hesitated for a fraction of a second before he spoke. “I really didn’t know what to do with this.”

Kenny felt Aaron still in his lap.

“It came via the station. I haven’t opened it and have no idea what’s inside. But I know where it came from. And I couldn’t risk putting this in the post.” He held Aaron’s gaze, then, slowly, he handed it over.

Aaron took it and Kenny pressed a kiss to his shoulder, eyes drifting to the stamp in the top corner.

Ashbridge Women’s Correctional Institute.

His breath stilled.

The cursive writing on the front stood out. The name, written with careful precision. Cain Howell, C/O DI Jack Bentley, Ryston Police.

For a long, heavy moment, Aaron just stared at it.

Then he turned it over in his hands.

Kenny could feel the tension in Aaron’s muscles, the weight of the past pressing against his spine, the war that had always waged between who he was born to be and who he had chosen to become. Then, without a word, he flipped the envelope back over and tore it open.

Kenny read over his shoulder.

Cain (or Aaron if you prefer),

I’m still here. Thought you should know.

I imagine by now you’ve run far. I always said you were good at that. Like a stray dog that doesn’t know if it wants to be caught or left to roam. But even strays come back, eventually. You haven’t.

You won’t, will you?

I had thought you’d at least come see me. If not for love, then for closure. To look me in the eye and prove to yourself that you are better than me. Better than us.

But I suppose silence is its own message.

You were always my bright star. My only boy. My beautiful son. And yet, I see now, I have lost you. You were lost to me the moment I chose you. I just didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to admit that my love wasn’t real love. I know I’m different. I never wanted to be. And that’s why I did everything a mother was supposed to do. Didn’t I? For you, at least. I read all about how a mother should love their child and tell them. I did, didn’t I?

But I’ve been thinking lately, as the days stretch into years and the walls close in. About what makes us who we are. Blood, they say. Or the weight of hands upon us, shaping us before we ever know we’re being molded. I wonder, in the stillness of my nights, where exactly you began. Was it with me? Was it before me? Did you already belong to something else before I took you in my arms and decided you were mine?

I used to dream of you, you know. Even here. I dreamed you’d come back to me. That you’d finally understand. That the world would reveal itself for what it is. A place where only the strong survive, where people like us are not made, but born.

But my dreams have changed.

Now, when I see you, you are always walking away.

I don’t call after you anymore.

I don’t think you would turn back even if I did.

And that’s for the best.

Perhaps, after all this time, I should finally stop waiting.

Enjoy your life, my darling boy. Whatever shape it takes.

And if you do think of me—let it be only as a shadow. Nothing more.

And for the record, just so you know, I had bets you wouldn’t turn out like us because I cherished you. And even though you won’t admit it, I was right.

Your mother, Róisín

Kenny kept his hands underneath Aaron’s top, resting his fingers over his skin, warm and steady. Grounding him. Letting him feel the connection, the weight of presence, the silent reassurance that Kenny was here . That he wasn’t alone.

Aaron hadn’t moved in nearly a minute.

Kenny could feel the slight tension in his shoulders, the way his breath had slowed. Not in relaxation, but in that measured way Aaron had trained himself to, when his emotions started clawing at his throat. A survival tactic. Years of conditioning. Aaron didn’t react immediately. He absorbed. Processed. Calculated what was safest, what was necessary, what he allowed himself to feel.

Everyone else had fallen silent. Waiting.

Then Aaron sniffed, a sharp, almost dismissive sound, fingers tightening around the letter before he abruptly crushed it in his fist. The sudden movement sent a ripple of energy through him, a decision made, a shift from stillness to action. A response to discomfort that Kenny had seen so many times before.

Aaron jumped from his lap.

“C’mon, boy,” he said, as if nothing had happened at all. As if the letter wasn’t still balled up in his grip, knuckles white from how hard he held it.

Chaos barked, tail wagging, oblivious to the tension, just happy to be included. He leapt down, following as Aaron strode toward the shoreline, his steps quick, determined, a pace demonstrating the need for movement. To do something. Control something. Or risk the emotions clawing their way to the surface.

Kenny didn’t stop him.

Didn’t call out. Didn’t get up. Didn’t ask to dissect the words on that letter. To show Aaron how to read between those jagged lines. That was up to him.

Jack shifted, watching Aaron’s retreating form, brows furrowing. “ He okay?”

Kenny stayed quiet for a beat, watching closely.

Experience guiding him, he read the signs, analysing the shifts in Aaron’s body language. His shoulders held too tight, his hands too stiff.

Aaron needed to deal with it. Alone.

And Kenny knew exactly how he would.

Sure enough, Aaron made it all the way to the sea’s edge, waves crashing at his feet, the cold water lapping over his boots. Chaos danced excitedly beside him, chasing the tide, but Aaron didn’t flinch at the icy spray. He raised the letter, still clenched in his grip, and tore it apart. Not in one dramatic motion, not in a burst of rage. Instead, piece by piece, he shredded it, stripping it down to nothing. Then he let go, showering the fragments into the wind, letting the sea claim them.

The waves swallowed the pieces whole.

Gone. Just like that.

As Aaron lingered by the shore, watching the remnants of his past disappearing beneath the water, only then did Kenny answer Jack’s question.

“Yeah.” His lips quirked, the smallest, proudest smile forming. “He’s okay.”

After a while, Fraser got up, stretching before making his way toward Aaron, now fully engrossed in a game of fetch with Chaos. The golden retriever bounded across the sand, ears flopping, tail wagging wildly as Aaron threw the ball, laughing when the dog nearly tripped over his own feet trying to catch it. Fraser joined in without a word, seamlessly inserting himself into the playful bedlam, and soon it became a three-way game of ball toss and chase, their voices carrying over the breeze, blending with the rhythmic crash of the waves.

Kenny and Jack remained seated, watching from their chairs, fingers curled around their whisky glasses. For a long while, they sat in silence.

Then Jack spoke. “You still think he’s gonna leave you?”

Kenny didn’t answer right away.

He stayed fixed on Aaron, watching the way he ran, the way he threw his head back when he laughed, the way he existed here. Free, happy, alive. Kenny knew Aaron loved him. Knew it in the way he kissed him. The way he held him at night. How he reached for him in his sleep, calling his name like a tether to something real.

But love didn’t always mean forever.

Kenny lowered his head, exhaling. “Yeah.”

Jack shifted beside him, clearly not expecting that answer. “Doesn’t that worry you?”

Kenny swirled the amber liquid in his glass, watching how the light caught it, how the ripples moved in soft, lazy waves. Like the tide, time, the things that could slip away if you weren’t careful enough to hold on to them.

“Of course it worries me.” He paused, letting the words settle. “It would destroy me. My life fucking sucks without him.”

Jack didn’t speak. He was listening. Really listening.

Kenny sighed, tilting his head back. “But one thing I’ve learned is not to take anything for granted. If I treat him as if he’ll be there forever, then I’ll grow complacent. I’ll start expecting it. And I never, ever , want to take this for granted.” He shook his head. “So I treat every day with him like it could be the last. I hold him tighter than I should. Kiss him as if it’s the last time I ever will. Give him all of me. And maybe—just maybe—in doing that, he’ll just keep hanging around.”

Jack smiled. Softly. Wistfully. Like he understood.

He looked back out at the scene before them. Aaron and Fraser running laps with Chaos, Aaron shouting dramatically about the rules of fetch as Chaos completely ignored them, Fraser laughing as he wrestled the ball back from the overexcited dog.

“If it’s of any worth to you,” Jack said after a while, “knowing I’m no behaviour expert… but I don’t think he will ever leave you.”

Kenny turned his head, watching Jack from the corner of his eye. “No?”

Jack smirked, then angled his head to Aaron. “Just like that little dog, you picked Aaron up when he was an abandoned puppy. He’s yours now.” He smiled at Kenny. “You’ll be picking up his shit for the rest of your life.”

Kenny barked out a laugh, lifting his glass to his lips, the warmth of the whisky coating his throat. He watched Aaron tumble to the sand, Chaos jumping all over him, laughter spilling from his lips. “I really fucking hope so.”

The day merged seamlessly into night, the golden glow of sunset fading into the deep indigo of evening. Kenny cooked for them all, the scent of roasted garlic and herbs filling the cottage, mingling with the briny sea air drifting in through the open windows. They ate together, laughter spilling over the clinking of glasses, the occasional bark from Chaos echoing beneath the hum of conversation.

They drank more.

And after the plates were cleared, Kenny put the old records on. The ones scratched from overuse, crackling in the quiet. Fraser and Jack swayed together in the living room, spinning slow circles on the wooden floor, while Kenny pulled Aaron against him, pressing his cheek to his temple as they moved in time with the music. Jack was the first to tap out, too tipsy to keep going, and Fraser carried him upstairs, chuckling as Jack muttered half-asleep complaints about being handled.

But Kenny, true to his word, held Aaron longer .

Tighter .

And they danced, alone in the middle of the room, the warm, honeyed sound of Patsy Cline’s Crazy wrapping around them, a perfect, poetic accompaniment to their story. Aaron draped his arms lazily around Kenny’s neck, tracing absentminded patterns at the nape of his hair with his soft fingertips. Then, without letting go, he pulled back just enough to meet Kenny’s eyes.

“What do you think I should do with the rest of my life now, doc?”

Kenny tugged him closer, possessively gripping the small of his back. “Stay here with me.”

“Your dirty little secret forever?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

Aaron snorted. “We’ll run out of money.”

“I work.”

“You don’t.”

Kenny chuckled. Aaron was right. He didn’t really work. Not in the traditional sense. He worked on his book, an autobiography of his time profiling, wrote the occasional article. Sometimes he answered advice about case studies that were sent to him, just enough to keep some money in his pocket. But he had no plans to go back into academia. Not yet. Maybe one day.

He was done wading through the depravities of the human psyche.

“We could open a dog-sitting service,” Aaron offered, biting back a grin.

“No.” Kenny kissed the thought away before it could take hold.

“Fine,” Aaron sighed dramatically. “The only other skill I have is pole dancing?”

Kenny kissed him. Languidly. “I will pay you every night for that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Aaron laughed, then kissed him again, lingering, as if savouring the moment, sealing it. Then, as amazing as it was every single time, he said, “I love you.”

Kenny exhaled, resting their foreheads together, tightening his arms around Aaron’s waist. “I love you too, baby.”

And that was it.

They didn’t need to make plans. They had the rest of their lives for that.

And if nothing ever changed. If it was always like this, tangled in warmth, in laughter, in love, then that was enough.

Because this was life.

Living in chaos.

And for the first time, it didn’t feel like drowning.

It felt like home .

The End

Thank you for joining Aaron and Kenny on this wild, twisted, beautiful journey.