Ranger - Jericho's Boys #4 - ch. 10 (Patreon)

Unbeta'd/Unedited. I swear, this book is gonna be 150k pages by the time I'm done. Every chapter is a novel in and of itself.

Seven

8 months, 3 weeks, 6 days and 11 hours since that night

“Me,” Enzo muttered. 

Seven bit the corner of his lip as he watched Enzo practically writhing in embarrassment. How was this the same man who made Seven weak when he called him brat? The same man who took care of him so well when he was falling apart. Like tonight? How was he such a perfect contradiction?

“Where?” Seven asked, squinting at the phone, looking at what must have been a family photo? Twenty plus people crowded together, kids looking in every direction but at the camera and adults trying to smile through their aggravation. “You do remember how many siblings you have? And, no offense, but your mom kind of just hit copy-paste. I have no idea which one is you.” 

He uncovered his face long enough to jab a finger at his pre-teen self. “That’s me,” he muttered. 

Seven’s breath caught taking in the image before him. Enzo was shorter than most of his brothers, stockier, broader shoulders, adorably chubby. He had an unfortunate pair of brown plastic frames resting crooked on his otherwise perfect nose and a face full of acne and that little shadow over his lip that some boys got when they hit puberty. 

Seven began crafting a text to Enzo’s mother in his head. He needed more photos of baby Enzo. All the photos. Immediately. 

“Aww,” Seven simpered. “Look at you. So cute.” 

Enzo dropped his hands to give him a pouty-glare that made Seven’s heart trip behind his ribs. How could anyone be so hot and so adorable at the same time? “I meant the chunky one with the big glasses, bad skin and facial hair.” 

“I know who you meant,” Seven said around a laugh, shaking his head. “You’re kind of an asshole. Roasting a little kid like that. You’re so fucking cute.” 

Enzo continued to stare at him like a wet cat. “I was that little kid. I can roast myself,” Enzo said. “God knows everyone else did.” 

Oh. Right. Enzo was bullied. Seven knew how that went. His friend group had all been bullied in middle school too. Mostly just for being small, awkward and gay. That’s why they’d banded together. Maybe it didn’t impact Seven as much because he’d found his life-long friends that way. Playing D&D and then, eventually, Paladin in the back of Jericho’s garage had saved them, turning otherwise shitty days into good ones. 

Seven gave him a soft look, reaching out to ghost a finger down the bridge of Enzo’s nose. “Kids are dicks, baby.” 

“Don’t act like you don’t see what I see,” Enzo said, flopping onto his back to stare at the ceiling. 

Seven might have laughed if not for Enzo’s miserable expression. Instead, he sighed. “I don’t see what you see. At all. But that’s the thing about perspective. You don’t like how you look because it reminds you of a shitty time in your life. I love how you look because I lo-like you,” he stumbled. 

Enzo met his gaze, more serious than Seven had ever seen him. “I lo-like you, too,” he said. 

Seven got lost for a few minutes just…looking at him. 

Enzo didn’t look away. 

When Seven snapped out of it, he felt his face grow hot, the tips of his ears burning. He took out his phone and thumbed through a dozen folders to find what he was looking for, then handed it to Enzo. “Take it. Look.”  

Enzo took the phone Seven thrust into his face, then sat up. Seven followed, scooting closer to hook his chin over his shoulder. It was an old picture Jericho had found and sent to them weeks ago. A picture of a picture really. Seven kids, strewn across couches in the back of Jericho’s garage, game controllers in hand, wearing superhero pajama pants and graphic tees with images and sayings that hadn’t been popular in well over a decade. 

Seven smiled down at the photo. They’d been between the ages of eleven and twelve. It was a sea of scrawny boys whose limbs looked slightly too long for their bodies, some sporting the same patchy facial hair as Enzo, others with faces full of acne. Seven pointed to himself. He was the second smallest next to Levi, his wild hair stuck out in all directions frizzy and unkempt. He had a mouthful of old-school ugly metal braces, the pain of which still haunted him today. 

“That’s me,” he said, chin bumping Enzo’s shoulder with every word. “I wasn’t exactly signing any model contracts either.”

“You’re adorable,” Enzo said, running his finger over Seven’s image. 

“You only think so because you lolike me too,” he teased. 

Enzo turned his head, pressing a lingering kiss to Seven’s cheek. Butterflies erupted in his belly. Yeah, Seven really did lolike him. Was this why all his friends were so fucking crazy once they got in relationships? Did being in love alter your brain chemistry? 

“You were definitely cuter than me,” Enzo said, pulling him from his thoughts. 

“I think all little kids are adorable in their own way,” Seven said. 

“My siblings never had an awkward phase. It was annoying,” Enzo admitted with a sigh. “They just went from being pretty little kids to pretty teens to pretty adults. Unlike me. I started putting on weight in fourth grade. I had terrible vision, bad skin. The only thing that saved me was randomly shooting up seven inches practically overnight my sophomore year of high school then discovering kickboxing in eleventh grade. After that, I got contacts. A Proactive subscription. But before that…I dreaded school. Kids are mean. Especially my siblings.” 

Seven kissed his cheek back, then moved so he could drape himself across Enzo’s shoulders, hugging his neck from behind. 

“I’m gonna be honest,” Seven said. “I don’t trust anyone who didn’t have an ugly phase. It's weird. You shouldn’t look like a twelve-year-old supermodel. You should have acne or bad teeth or greasy hair or be in a body that just doesn’t quite feel like it belongs to you.” 

Enzo’s hand landed on Seven’s forearm and squeezed. “Thank you.” 

“For what?” Seven said, nipping at his ear. “You could put on another fifty pounds and still be the hottest man alive. You’ve got that villain energy.” 

Enzo snorted. “Villain energy?” 

“Yeah, look at you. There’s not a girl alive who wouldn’t take one look at you and think that you’re some vicious criminal with a tragic past that became your origin story. The booktok girlies would love you.” 

“What’s a booktok girlie?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Seven said. “The point is, it’s your…aura that makes you hot. If you had walked into that conference room fifty pounds heavier and totally bald, I still would have called you Daddy. It’s all about confidence and you have that in spades.” 

Seven watched the blush stain his cheeks. “ Sure.” 

“I’m serious,” Seven promised. “You’ve seen my dad. He looks like a toe and he’s got ten kids with ten different women…that I know of. Look at how hot my mom is. He bagged her and it’s not because of his looks. He’s fat and has a huge scar on his face that makes him look borderline terrifying to young children and people who owe him money.” 

“That’s different.” 

Seven’s tone grew sullen. “If I gain weight are you going to ditch me? Tell me now, cause I feel like it’s pretty inevitable with my laziness and genetics. I hit the gym pretty often now, but I refuse to do crunches forever. Once I lock you down there’s a really high chance that I’m gonna just let myself go.” 

Enzo seemed to laugh against his will. “We can let ourselves go together. Trade the gym for beer and chicken wings on the couch. Fat and happy as my Nona used to say.” 

Seven gave a pornographic moan right against Enzo’s ear, crooning, “You’re kind of turning me on right now.” 

“Is it the chicken wings or the couch that’s getting you going because one is downstairs and the other can be here in twenty minutes.” 

Seven laughed, feeling lighter than he had since his mother’s phone call earlier. Somehow Enzo had made it all go away for a while. “No. Well, yes to the couch, though I prefer the bed. No to the wings. You promised me your mom’s tortellini and tiramisu and now I can’t think of anything else.” 

Enzo laughed, handing Seven his phone back in exchange for his own. He hit a button then waited several seconds for someone to answer. “Hey, man. It’s Enzo. I need to place a delivery order.” There was a delay as the other person spoke before Enzo said, “For me, idiot. Why would I be placing an order for someone else.” 

Seven snickered as he listened to Enzo place their order. 

Once he ended the call, he rolled off the bed in one graceful move, then leaned down to give Seven a kiss that lingered just enough to have Seven making a needy sound when he pulled back. “Now I’m gonna go shower.” 

“Noo,” Seven whined. “What am I supposed to do without you? I’ll be bored.” 

Enzo kissed his forehead, then kissed it again. Then his nose. Then his chin. Seven’s heart felt like it was two seconds away from exploding tinier hearts everywhere. “Text your friends. I’m sure they’re worried about you.” 

His friends. 

“Oh, right.” 

He was supposed to play online with them tonight. By now, Jericho had probably filled them in on the situation. They were probably all freaking out. He waited to open his phone until he heard the water running. He giggled to himself as Enzo began to loudly belt out something from what Seven could only assume was an Italian opera. 

He navigated to his voice recorder and let it pick up about two minutes of Enzo’s dramatic aria on his phone for blackmail at a later date, then opened his group chat. The minute he saw the pages of talk he missed, he decided he didn’t have time to try to catch up. Hopefully, if he missed something important, they’d catch him up now. 

The few messages he did read were all his friends fretting about why they hadn’t heard from him yet.

Me: I’m alive.

Several dots began to fly across the screen.

Felix: We’ve been worried sick. What the fuck. Would a text have killed you?

Lake: Are you okay?

Cree: What happened?

Silas: How’s your mom?

Arsen: Is she still in jail?

Ever: Are you okay? Where are you? 

Nico: Holy shit. Where have you been?

Levi: Yeah, man we were worried.

Shiloh: Tell us you’re okay. Do you want to come over? Do you need a place to hide?

Mal: You’re with Enzo, right?

Oh, right. Seven always forgot that he and Enzo were…friendly? How much did Mal know about them? It’s crazy to think that their friend groups converged at the Mal axis as he and Shiloh were the newest in the group. 

Me: I’m fine. Yeah, I’m at Enzo’s. My mom’s at Mama’s. Someone tipped off the press and now they’re everywhere.

Felix: Oh, we know. They were outside my townhouse when we came back from daycare with the boys.

Me: I’m so sorry, Felix. 

Felix: What? No. Shut up. That’s not what I meant. It’s not your fault the press are leeches. 

Zane: Hey! 😭

Felix: Not you, baby. I love you. 😘

Zane: You better.

Lake: Why are they saying your mom embezzled millions from the non-profit? We know its a lie but who would want to set her up?

Cree: It’s not your dad, is it?

Felix: Shit. It’s not, right? Your mom wouldn’t let your dad do that. I don’t care how much she loves him. She doesn’t love anyone enough to go to jail, right? Well, except you.

Zane: Is it true your mom is dating Enzo’s Uncle Rocco. Does that mean she’s done with your dad for good? 

Arsen: I did not know that Enzo’s family is like Mulvaney family. So charitable that people say they must be secret criminals. 

Ever: Yeah. They say Rocco is kind of a mobster. The whole Conti family is like mafia. 

Me: Just because my boyfriend’s family is Italian, it doesn’t mean they’re in the mob. 

Though, to be fair, the more he learned about Enzo’s family the more he was pretty sure they were the mob. He hit send, then read back what he’d written, only then comprehending what he’d just said. His heart rate skyrocketed. 

Fuckkkkkk. 

They were not going to let that slide. 

Cree: Boyfriend?

Felix: Since when.

Ever: Squeeeeee

Shiloh: daslkfjds;lkfjds;lkjfls;dkfjs;ldj BOYFRIEND? 

Arsen: Wow. I thought you would hold out longer than this. Weak. 

Me: Fuck you, smurf boy. You wifed up your boyfriend six seconds after you yanked him out of the closet. I’ve known Enzo for eight months. That’s like five years compared to how fast you all move. 

Nico: Maybe we should just ixnay the oyfriendbay conversation for a while? Someone’s a little sensitive today. 

Me: My mom was just arrested. Excuse me if I’m freaking out a little. 

Levi: Do not invoke your mother’s name to keep us from prying into your love life. It won’t work, especially since we know Enzo volunteered to take care of his ‘future mother-in-law’ pro bono.

Me: How did you know about that? 

Had Enzo said it to Jericho? Had he called Neith his future mother-in-law? Was there something stronger than butterflies? Because something was swarming in his belly but it felt much more aggressive than butterflies. He wanted to strip off his clothes and join Enzo in the shower, go to his knees for him. 

Seven sighed. He was pretty sure no amount of sex would be equal to the amount of time and money Enzo would lose helping his mother. 

Shiloh: So if your mom marries Enzo’s uncle than would that make her his mother-in-law and his aunt? God, you think the press is in a feeding frenzy now, wait until that happens. 

Nico: To be fair, this is pretty juicy. Like honestly, our friend group isn’t in the press enough for all the ties we have to famous people. 

Me: Did you guys play tonight?

Lake: We tried but the trolls were trolling. They even invaded Shiloh and Ever’s feed, spamming them with questions and nasty comments. 

Cree: We would have kept playing, but we didn’t know how you wanted us to respond. Or even if you wanted us to. We figured we’d wait for word from you. 

Silas: We missed out on the Paladin live D&D night, too. The tickets sold out in seconds. 

Oh, right. That was today. The voice actors of Paladin 4 were playing D&D live as their characters for one night only about two hours away from them. They’d made it clear from the beginning that there would only be a thousand tickets for sale. It had been a longshot from the jump. 

Felix: I could try to pull some strings but I’m not sure even Thomas could snag us the amount of tickets we need. 

Me: It’s fine. We can all just gather at someone’s house and watch the livestream. Jericho will probably even let us use his place and their television is stupid big.

Cree: Maybe they’ll do it again next year. 

Lake: Or add on shows. 

Arsen: I think Seven has other things on his mind. 

Me: Its okay. After being hassled by the news people, I’d rather talk about literally anything else. 

Felix: Dealing with those vultures sucks. Not you, baby 

Zane: 😘

Silas: Actually, maybe Zane’s the press you should be talking to.

Me: What do you mean?

Silas: I mean, they’re not going to stop harassing you. Maybe Zane could be your public facing voice. He knows how to spin things in a way that’s just truthful enough to keep the public on our side. It could be beneficial.

Me: I’ll ask Enzo.

Ever: You mean your boyfriend, Enzo? 😇

Nico: You folded like a cheap card table. You’ve been bitching about Enzo every day for the last eight months. Enzo this. Enzo that. And now you’re throwing around the word boyfriend. 

Seven absently noted the water shutting off, but still attempted to defend himself. 

Me: It was just a slip. I didn’t mean it. I’ve had a trying day. Don’t be mean to me. 

Movement from the corner of his eye, snagged his attention. Enzo, hair wet and wavy, white towel slung low around his hips. Water droplets still clung to all that ink and muscle. 

Me: Gotta go. Don’t wait up. 

He closed his phone to a dozen dancing dots, swinging his legs over the side to sit on the edge of the bed, eyes roaming greedily, trying to take in every bit of skin available to him. Enzo’s ink was a canvas of contradictions—all sacred relics and sacrilege. The last time he’d had Enzo this bare, Seven was too far gone to appreciate his beauty. But not this time. 

From his throat to his ankles, saints mourned and martyrs burned, painted in bold lines and vivid colors. In the mirror behind Enzo, Lucifer curled down his spine, beautiful and broken, wings spanning his broad shoulders as he watched over a ribcage lined with thieves and saints, their eyes hollow, their halos cracked. A sacred heart flared over his real one, pierced and blazing beside the Virgin Mary who clutched a rosary made of tiny skulls. 

Even the few bits of negative space felt deliberate, like they were simply waiting their turn. Enzo looked less like a man and more like a gothic cathedral—and somehow, it suited him.

“My eyes are up here,” Enzo teased. 

“But your tummy’s down here,” Seven shot back, reaching out and pulling Enzo in by the knot on his towel. 

He recognized some of the famous religious works. Unlike Nico, Seven had excelled in art history. And Enzo was a living, breathing museum. Michaelangelo. Caravaggio. Hieronymus Bosch. They were all there, their broken saints and fallen angels, splashed across his skin. On Enzo’s body, religion didn’t look like salvation, but just the opposite. Seven couldn’t stop himself from reaching up to trace his fingertips over the words written in fancy script across his side. 

Coram Deo, in tenebris. 

“Before God, in darkness,” he murmured. “Very dramatic. Very villainous.” 

Enzo chuckled. “Of course you speak latin.” 

“I’m a law student. It comes in handy,” Seven said. “And don’t change the subject. Why are all your tattoos so…dark? Did you have an emo phase or something?” 

He laughed a little at the idea of Enzo in all black with guyliner, a lip ring and scene hair. 

“Are you laughing at me,” Enzo asked, though he seemed to be enjoying the attention. 

“With you,” Seven corrected. “But this does seem kind of broody even for you.” 

Enzo huffed out a laugh of his own. “After I found my fiance in bed with my only friend, I went a little off the rails. She hated tattoos. I got the first one to spite her. Then I realized tattoos really are addictive. They’re also good for hiding scars…and stretch marks.” 

Enzo pointed to a spot over his hips. Seven could just barely make out the striations in question. Seven ran the flat of his tongue over them, then kissed them for good measure. One day, he’d force Enzo to lay there so he could kiss every perceived imperfection on his body. “I think stretch marks are sexy.” 

Enzo caught Seven beneath his chin, tipping it upwards until they were locked in on each other. “Is it possible you just really like me?” he asked, sounding amused and a little breathless. 

“Maybe,” Seven said, with a cheeky little shrug. “As long as you keep being this version of yourself.” 

Enzo gazed down at him with a sincerity that had Seven fighting not to squirm. “There’s only one me. But you’re the only one who gets to see this side of me…But it would be great if you don’t tell our coworkers that I’m a giant insecure nerd outside of a courtroom.” 

Enzo had no idea how coveted his type really was. Maybe he should keep that information to himself. He already had a big head. Nah, he needed to hear only good things about himself. 

“Do you have any idea how your stock value would soar if people knew you were a hot nerd. Those are the most coveted of all the classes and I have no interest in competition. You’re all mine,” Seven said, planting a chaste kiss just below Enzo’s belly button. 

The ding of the elevator had Seven gasping in excitement, rubbing his hands together like a cricket. “Food.” 

“Want me to grab it?” Enzo asked. 

Seven gave him a hard once over, then stared pointedly at his towel and semi-hardon. “Go put some clothes on. I don’t want the delivery guy thinking this is the beginning of some porno where the hot guy bangs the pizza man.” 

“We’re not even eating pizza.” 

“Irrelevant,” Seven cried. “Go.” 

Enzo’s laugh was loud, echoing off the walls and warming Seven’s insides. He took the stairs two at a time, checking to make sure Enzo was out of sight one last time, before the elevator doors opened, dumping an awestruck delivery girl right into their living room. His. Enzo’s. Enzo’s living room. 

What was with all the slipups tonight? Seven was getting way too comfortable. 

The girl wore a red windbreaker and a baseball cap. She had blonde hair and brown eyes and freckles that reminded Seven of Noah. He hadn’t been in the group chat. He was probably working or talking Adam off some ledge. 

“This smells so good. I was drooling the whole way here,” she confided. “but not on the food,” she added, giving him a laugh and a smile. 

“Yeah, Mama’s has the best food. I’ve been craving it all day,” Seven admitted, taking the bag, eyes widening when she brushed her fingers with his. 

She was definitely flirting with him, pushing her hair behind her ear, shifting closer as she talked, making aggressive eye contact that Seven was very much not used to. 

“You look really familiar,” she said. “Do you go to Strawbridge?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Seven said, then jumped as an arm fell heavily around his shoulder. 

The girl’s eyes went wide as Enzo made a show of planting a sloppy kiss on Seven’s cheek, taking the bags and handing the girl a twenty dollar tip. They’d already tipped her in the app. She looked between the two of them like she couldn’t quite grasp that they were a couple, then backed away towards the waiting elevator. 

“Let's eat, baby. I’m starving,” Enzo said, somehow driving home the point that Seven was taken and dismissing the girl at the same time.

“Oh, uh, right. Bye. I’m Maggie. Maybe I’ll see you around school.” 

Before Seven could respond, Enzo said, “Bye, Mandy.” 

“It’s Maggie,” she said a moment before the elevator doors closed in her face. 

Once the girl was gone, Seven turned and slapped Enzo on the shoulder. “Oh, my God. What was that about? You were so rude just. now.” 

“I’m rude? She was flirting with you right in front of me. She’s lucky all I did was get her name wrong,” Enzo grumbled. 

“What’re you gonna do? Beat up a sorority girl?” Seven teased. 

“She started it.” 

“She was just being nice.” 

“I’m Maggie, tee-hee,” Enzo said, his voice going high as he pretended to brush hair behind his ear. “As if that would work.” 

“You’re so catty. You’re not a nerd in a hot body, you're a mean girl in a hot body.” 

“Why does everyone keep saying that,” Enzo muttered as he padded barefoot into the kitchen. 

Seven took in his black athletic shorts that revealed thick thighs and well-muscled calves and a white t-shirt that fit him like he’d had it tailored to his body. Knowing Enzo, he probably had. 

Enzo grabbed two forks, then Seven’s hand, all but dragging him back upstairs to the bedroom with their rations. Once they were sitting side-by-side on the King size bed, Enzo grabbed the remote. 

“What do you want to watch?” he asked. “Should we find a show?” 

Seven was too busy opening the plastic container filled to the brim with pasta to give Enzo his full attention. He immediately stabbed a tortellini then popped it into his mouth, moaning in ecstasy. “I should just marry your mom.” 

“Well, she’s already married and they’re my Nona’s recipes. And if you want to marry her you’re gonna need a ouija board or a necromancer cause she went and died on us years ago.” 

Seven sighed like he was put upon. “I suppose you’ll do.” 

Enzo glowered at him. “If you don’t tell me what you want to watch, I’m just gonna put on whatever I want.” 

“Like what? The Barbie movie?” Seven teased. 

Seven sucked in a breath as Enzo’s hand suddenly gripped his jaw, turning his face towards him sharply, his voice dropping an octave to say, “I’m not sure I like your tone.” 

Seven stuck his tongue out at him, because he was too busy trying not to pop a boner in Enzo’s very loose boxer shorts. 

“Behave,” Enzo growled. 

Seven’s insides shivered, a heated pulse of want blooming in his core. “Sorry, Daddy,” he managed. 

Enzo leaned in, sweeping his tongue along Seven’s bottom lip. “Good boy.” Seven sat frozen, Enzo’s fingers burning his skin, until he released him and turned back to the television none of that had happened. “Do you want to watch something? I can put on music if you prefer.” 

“Put on your favorite movie,” Seven said. “Your real favorite movie, not whatever testosterone driven action movie you tell people you like.” 

Enzo narrowed his eyes at him, examining him closely. “Are you just planning on mocking me the whole time if I do?” 

“Depends on the movie,” Seven countered with a saccharine smile. 

“Brat,” Enzo muttered under his breath even as he toggled to whatever movie he planned to share with Seven. 

He had no intention of making fun of him. He’d honestly never felt more comfortable in his life. He stabbed another piece of pasta, bringing it to Enzo’s lips. He opened for Seven without looking, then chewed thoughtfully as he hit play. 

Seven grinned as the opening strains of All-Star by Smash Mouth started playing. 10 Things I Hate About You. “This is your favorite movie?” 

“Heath Ledger is hot as fuck in this movie,” Enzo said. “His character’s got…what is it you guys call it? Rizz.” 

Seven barked out a laugh, shaking his head. “Easy, grandpa.” 

They made it through half the pasta and a shocking amount of the Tiramisu before Seven tapped out with a groan, pointing down at his rounded belly until Enzo patted it. Once they’d cleared the containers to the side, Seven dropped a pillow into his lap and patted it. Enzo’s eyes widened, but he went easily, lying between Seven’s legs, head propped up just enough to see the movie. From this angle, Seven could see just how unfairly long his lashes were. 

He combed his fingers through his now mostly dry hair, his eyes on the movie, but his thoughts on the man. And his mother. Somehow Enzo had made him forget about all of it. The police station, the arrest, the press…If Seven had been home alone, he would have spent the night spiraling. But Enzo had taken his mind off things without even trying. 

Enzo’s voice jerked him from his thoughts. “Whacha thinking about?” 

He looked down to find his head craned back to look at him. “You.” 

“Me?” Enzo asked, giving him a suspicious look. “Should I be worried?” 

Seven shook his head. “No. I was just thinking I was lucky you were there today. I am great when its someone else’s crisis, but not one this close to home. We would have had to just accept a public defender and hope for the best. My mom would still be sitting in jail.” 

Seven shuddered at the idea of his mom in an orange jumpsuit. 

“I would have never let you deal with that alone. We’re gonna find who’s actually behind this and get these charges dismissed so we can all get on with our lives. I promise.” 

“I trust you,” Seven murmured. 

Enzo looked stricken. “You do?” 

Seven’s heartbeat kicked at the hopefulness in his tone. Seven chewed on his bottom lip, studying Enzo’s face for a bit before he said, “Yeah. More than almost anybody.” 

Somehow Enzo found himself on his back, Enzo hovering over him, his gaze pinning him to the mattress. “Say it again,” he demanded. 

“I trust you,” Seven said. 

Enzo’s breath seemed to catch, his face doing something complicated before he choked out a strangled, “Promise?” 

A sudden yawn overtook Seven before he could answer, his mouth opening so wide his jaw cracked. “I promise,” he said as soon as he could manage it.

Enzo suddenly sat back on his knees, aggressively yanking the comforter out from beneath Seven. “Let's go to bed.”

“What?” Seven asked, looking at the television. “We’re still watching the movie.” 

And he was kind of hoping he’d at least get off before bed. 

Enzo shook his head. “You’re exhausted. It’s been a long day. Let’s just get some sleep. We both have work tomorrow and I need to start prepping your mother’s case.” 

Seven could barely contain the swell of feelings surging through him. “Are you sure you have time-” 

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” he said, tucking them both in, then gathering Seven against him, making him the little spoon. 

He buried his face in Seven’s neck, kissing his pulse, breath teasing the little hairs at the nape of his neck. Seven tipped his head further in invitation. Enzo took it, sucking a bruise where his neck and shoulder met, then licking over the spot. Seven bit his bottom lip, swallowing the whine building in his throat. 

Seven pushed his ass back against Enzo’s half-hard cock, making it known that he was willing. 

Enzo groaned. “Sleep, you brat.” 

“You started it,” Seven pouted. 

“And if you go to sleep now, we’ll get up early and finish it,” Enzo promised. 

“What if I want it now?” Seven asked, tone sullen. 

Enzo nipped his ear hard enough to drag a surprised squeak from him. 

“Be a good boy and maybe I’ll fuck you awake.” 

Seven cock twitched, a moan escaping before he could stop it. “Promise?” he asked, hating how desperate he sounded. 

Enzo huffed out a laugh against his neck. “Promise. But only if you sleep.” 

Seven tried. He did. Another ten minutes passed before he asked the question he’d been dying to ask earlier. “Did you pay my mom’s bail?” 

“Is it going to make you mad if I say yes?” Enzo countered softly. 

“Mad, no. But…we’ll never be able to pay that back.” 

Enzo’s lips brushed his neck softly. “I’ll consider it your dowry.” 

Seven’s heart tripped behind his ribs. “You’re crazy. That’s so much money.” 

“You’re worth it.” Seven was almost positive, that wasn’t true. But who was he to argue? He yawned once again. Enzo pressed another kiss to his throat, then his lips were at his ear. “For what it’s worth, I would have paid the two million if it came to that. Now, go to sleep.” 

Seven had to swallow the lump in his throat to say, “Yes, Daddy.” 

He’d wanted it to sound sassy, but it just came out a little broken. Still, when he closed his eyes, he easily drifted off to sleep.