“How was your swim?”
“Christ!” Alek jumped and turned.
Ian leaned against the doorframe. A twitch of a smile tugged the corner of his mouth.
“Sorry.” Ian shrugged off the frame and stalked over. “You didn’t shave.” He palmed the side of Alek’s face.
Shaving was hardly a concern when he would be dead soon.
Ian crowded Alek backward until his ass bumped against the vanity.
“I can shave you,” Ian said.
“No, thank you.”
Ian had shaved him before, usually when his hands were particularly incapacitated. It almost always devolved into fucking, but not until Ian had deemed Alek’s face clean-shaven.
“Come on,” Ian said. “I know you hate having stubble.”
Alek bit the tip of his tongue. The idea of having Ian so close with a sharp object pressed against his neck, of putting his life in Ian’s hands one last time, might prove to be a rather climactic send-off.
“Oh, all right,” Alek finally said.
“That’s the spirit.”
Ian gripped Alek’s hips.
“That’s hardly necessary—” Alek protested, but Ian had already hoisted him onto the countertop.
Ian plucked a fresh towel from the neat stack he kept in the space between the dual sinks and looped it around Alek’s neck. When Ian reached across the vanity to bring the razor and their shaving cream closer, their dicks grazed.
Alek gasped—he was only human—but if the sudden contact affected Ian, there was no sign of it.
Ian only turned the tap on and set to work.
Aside from the running water, the room was silent. The only words Alek had left to say couldn’t be said aloud. Words likeGoodbye, andI don’t want to goandLoving you used to be the only thing I didn’t regret, but now it’s the thing I regret most because I never wanted to hurt you.
Alek’s vision hazed as tears pooled unshed. He blinked, shifting his focus to the details of Ian’s face so he could summon the image to keep him company later while he waited for his life to end. There were faint, feathered crow feet around his eyes—eyes that weren’t just brown, but the color of the forest floor after it rained—and his beard had more gray than when they first met. Each fresh strand of silver stabbed Alek in the heart with grief that they wouldn’t grow old together.
Alek wanted to call it all off then, but that was exactly why he wouldn’t. He was greedy. If given the chance, he would steal the rest of Ian’s remaining years, poisoning them with misery, and even that wouldn’t be enough. They could both live until they were one hundred and it wouldn't be enough. Alek would take no less than forever no matter the cost.
The scrape of the razor against Alek’s skin sounded like the striking of a match as he lifted his chin to grant Ian easier access. He could almost smell the sulfur and brimstone. All it would take was one slip of the blade and Alek could go now. He wished Ian could be the one to take the light from his eyes, to steal the breath from his lungs, to have Ian usher him from living to dead.
But Ian finished with nary a nick, gently cleaning and toweling Alek’s face dry with tender, focused attention. When he was done, Ian leaned his forehead against Alek’s.
“Stay,” Ian begged, his voice rough and desperate. “I want you to stay.”
So, Ian knew?
Alek wanted to ask what gave it away, but he’d stay the course. Deception was all he had left.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Liar.”
Alek hopped down from the vanity. “If you’re trying to turnLiarinto a pet name, I’d really rather you not.”
Pale-faced and jaw sharp, Ian stepped back to let him pass.