Ethan dragged the blanket tighter around himself, plopping down onto the floor with an exaggerated sigh. "One hour? That's cruel, Angel. You save my life, patch me up, feed me breakfast, then....bam!... kick me out like a stray cat."
Gabriel pulled the chair back to the table, sitting with his arms crossed, unbothered. "That was the deal. Stray or not, you don't belong here."
Ethan tilted his head, watching him with a grin that was far too amused for the situation. "Oh, come on. Don't pretend you're not at least a little flattered. Handsome stranger falls at your feet, kisses you like some fairytale, begs to stay the night—what part of that isn't romantic?"
"None of it," Gabriel said flatly.
Ethan clutched his chest like he'd been stabbed. "Cold. Ice cold. You wound me, Angel." He shifted dramatically, trying to stretch his leg, then winced—half real, half performance. "Besides, look at me. I can barely walk. You really want that kind of guilt on your conscience? Throwing a wounded man to the wolves?"
Gabriel's gaze flicked to his leg, then back up, sharp as a blade. "You're not dying. You'll survive."
"Wow." Ethan leaned forward, elbows on his knees, smirking. "Do you talk to all your houseguests like this, or am I special?"
"You're not a guest."
Ethan chuckled low, shaking his head. "Keep telling yourself that. But you let me stay. Which means…" He pointed at Gabriel, triumphant. "You care."
Gabriel didn't blink. "It means you're loud, and I wanted quiet, please."
"Oh, Angel," Ethan drawled, flopping back dramatically on the blanket. "If you wanted quiet, you should've locked the door. But you didn't." His grin widened, sharp with mischief. "You wanted me here."
For a second just a second Gabriel's jaw tightened, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. But his voice stayed even. "One hour."
Ethan's heart kicked harder at that flicker. He whispered to himself, barely audible, "A lot can happen in one hour…"
The clock ticked, soft and steady in the corner, but Ethan wasn't listening.
He sprawled across the blanket, one leg stretched out, chin resting in his palm as he stared at Gabriel like he was the most fascinating puzzle in the world.
"You're really just gonna sit there? Arms crossed, glaring at the wall? For an entire hour?" Ethan asked, his voice lilting with mock concern.
Gabriel didn't look up. "Yes."
Ethan snorted. "You're impossible. Do you ever… I don't know… laugh? Smile? Blink?"
"Sometimes."
Ethan propped himself up on his elbows, eyes gleaming. "Prove it."
Gabriel finally turned his gaze, slow and deliberate. "Why would I waste a smile on you?"
"Ohhh," Ethan drawled, a wicked grin spreading across his lips. "Because I'm charming. And wounded. And currently sitting on your floor like a tragic prince in exile. That deserves at least a smirk."
Nothing. Gabriel's face was carved stone.
Ethan groaned dramatically, flopping back again. "You're killing me, Angel. Absolutely murdering me. You can't possibly be this boring."
A low breath escaped Gabriel—barely audible, but Ethan caught it. His head shot up. "Wait. Was that....was that a laugh?!"
Gabriel's brow twitched. "No."
"Yes, it was!" Ethan scrambled upright, pointing a finger at him like he'd caught him red-handed. "You laughed. You totally laughed."
"I breathed."
"Angel," Ethan said with mock-seriousness, scooting closer across the blanket, "that was the sexiest non-laugh laugh I've ever heard in my life."
Gabriel's silence stretched, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
Ethan tilted his head, studying him.
The quiet between them shifted—not quite hostile anymore, not quite safe either. Charged.
Ethan's voice dropped, softer now. "See? You do care. Even if you don't want to admit it."
Gabriel didn't answer. But his gaze lingered a moment too long before sliding away.
Ethan grinned to himself, heart hammering. One hour, huh? He could work with that.
Ethan inched closer across the blanket, his weight shifting until his shoulder nearly brushed Gabriel's knee.
The air thickened between them, silent but humming. Gabriel's gaze stayed steady, unreadable, but he didn't move away either.
"Angel…" Ethan's voice was softer now, almost curious. "You ever notice how quiet gets… loud?"
Gabriel's eyes flicked to him, sharp and assessing, but before he could reply—
Bzzz. Bzzz.
The phone on the table rattled, slicing through the moment.
Gabriel's jaw tightened as he reached for it, checking the screen. A reminder lit up, bold and unrelenting: Meeting. Mr. Richard. 3 p.m.
"Shit," Gabriel muttered under his breath, pushing to his feet.
Ethan blinked up at him. "What, hot date?"
"No," Gabriel said shortly, tugging at the hem of his shirt. Then, without a second thought, he pulled it over his head.
The cotton slid away, revealing lean muscle and scars written like secrets across his skin.
His body caught the light—carved and strong, every line speaking of discipline Ethan couldn't even imagine.
Ethan's mouth parted, words tumbling out before he could stop them. "Damn…" His gaze dragged down Gabriel's abs, the hard cut of his shoulders. "I'm… really falling for a man."
Gabriel paused mid-movement, eyes narrowing as he caught the whispered confession. "What?"
Ethan snapped his gaze up, caught red-handed. He tried to grin it off, though his ears burned. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not gay." He jabbed a finger at Gabriel's chest, as if making it official. "But I kinda like you. Okay? I'll admit it—love at first sight. Angel."
Gabriel stared, unreadable, his silence heavier than any rejection.
Ethan's grin wobbled but didn't break. He leaned back on his palms, playful defiance in his voice. "You don't have to say anything. I already know I'm irresistible."
"You know," Ethan continued, lounging back with his hands propping him up, "you don't have to fall for me. I get it—I'm charming, magnetic, practically irresistible. I could win you over in a week if I wanted." He smirked, tilting his head. "But don't worry. I'll get over you in… I don't know… a minute. Maybe two."
Gabriel slid into his suit jacket, ignoring him. "You're really full of yourself," he said flatly, tugging at his tie.
"What can I say?" Ethan spread his arms dramatically. "I was born this handsome. Ace the Great One."
Gabriel gave a quiet exhale—too dry to be a laugh, too sharp to be dismissive as he wrestled with the knot at his throat.
The fabric slipped, twisted. He tried again, jaw tightening, but the tie refused him.
Ethan's grin widened. "Ohhh. Look at you. Angel can throw punches but loses to silk."
Before Gabriel could snap back, Ethan slid up onto his knees, closing the space between them. "Here," he said, voice suddenly softer. His fingers brushed the tie, nimble, deliberate. He tugged the fabric straight, looping it neatly with surprising precision.
Gabriel froze. His dark eyes lowered, watching this boy this annoying, relentless brat standing so close he could feel his breath.
Ethan tilted his chin up, smirk tugging his lips, but his hands were steady as they worked the knot.
"There," Ethan murmured, giving the tie a final tug. "Perfect. Just like me." His eyes lingered, playful but searching. "Don't say I never did anything for you, Angel."
For a moment, Gabriel didn't move. Didn't breathe.
Something about the boy's boldness—his audacity, his ease—lodged in his mind, stubborn as the tie he couldn't master himself.
The warmth of Ethan's fingers lingered against his collar even after they pulled away.
Then the spell snapped. Gabriel stepped back sharply, grabbing his phone off the counter.
His voice was low, clipped. "I'd better not come back to find you here. Leave before I return."
Ethan leaned back, smug as ever, though his grin softened at the edges. "Mhm. Sure, Angel. But don't be too sad if you miss me."
Gabriel's jaw clenched. He didn't answer, didn't look back.
The door shut behind him with a hard click, leaving Ethan sprawled in the silence, smirk still lingering.
But inside, his heart was hammering.
He'll come back. And when he does… I'll still be here.
Gabriel walked fast, almost too fast, as though distance could scrub Ethan from his thoughts.
The click of his shoes against the pavement kept a rhythm, but his mind betrayed him—replaying the boy's smirk, the way his fingers brushed the tie, light but insistent.
Damn it.
He muttered it under his breath, tightening his jaw. Why him? Why now?
He scolded himself inwardly.
This boy—reckless, loud, irritating—had no place in his life. No place in his head.
Yet the memory of those eyes lingered, playful but piercing, like they'd seen something he hadn't meant to show.
Gabriel shook it off, dragging a hand across his face as if the gesture could erase the thought. "Get it together," he whispered, voice low, sharp.
He had responsibilities. A structure. A life already tied in neat knots.
He couldn't afford loose ends.
Least of all Ace.
He drew a breath, shoulders stiffening as the building came into view.
By the time he reached the door, his mask was fixed again—composed, untouchable.
The storm inside, buried deep.
But as he stepped through the entrance, one thought whispered through the cracks he'd tried to seal:
What if he's still there when I get back?
And worse—
What if I want him to be?