Elias didn't plan to ask that day.
He told himself it would wait. That he would regain balance first, rebuild the sense of self he had briefly lost in silence. But some needs don't fade when ignored they sharpen.
By evening, the thought had settled deep and heavy in his chest.
Not hunger.
Not desperation.
Need.
He stood outside Blackwood Tower longer than necessary, watching the lights flicker on floor by floor. When he finally entered, the guards didn't question him. They never did anymore. That, too, felt like part of something he hadn't explicitly agreed to
but accepted nonetheless.
Damien was in the study when Elias arrived.
No jacket. Sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms. Glass of something dark in hand. The city reflected in the window behind him, blurring the line between power and solitude.
Damien looked up as Elias entered.
"You came without being called," he said.
Elias nodded. "I know."
Damien studied him for a long moment, then gestured toward the chair across from him. "Sit."
Elias did.
The silence between them wasn't tense this time. It was measured. Intentional.
"You've been thinking," Damien said.
"Yes."
"About the rule?"
"Yes."
Damien waited.
Elias inhaled slowly. "About what comes after it."
Damien's gaze sharpened not predatory, not amused. Focused.
"And?" he prompted.
Elias hesitated. Not from fear but from the weight of asking honestly.
"I want something," Elias said.
Damien didn't move. "Then say it."
Elias's fingers curled lightly against his knee. "I don't want to act out. I don't want to test you through defiance."
Damien inclined his head slightly. Approval, subtle but unmistakable.
"So," Elias continued, "I'm asking."
The air shifted.
"For what?" Damien asked quietly.
Elias met his eyes. "Presence."
Damien paused.
"Explain," he said.
"I don't want to be touched," Elias clarified. "Not yet. I don't want promises or reassurances." His voice steadied as he continued. "I want to know I can stand near you without feeling like I'm reaching for something forbidden."
The honesty in the request hung between them, raw and exposed.
Damien considered him carefully.
"That is not a small thing," Damien said.
"I know," Elias replied. "That's why I'm asking instead of taking."
Damien set his glass down.
He rose slowly, the movement deliberate enough to make Elias's breath catch despite himself. Damien walked around the desk—not circling, not looming. When he stopped, he stood an arm's length away.
"You are asking for controlled closeness," Damien said. "Without escalation."
"Yes."
"Without assurance of more."
"Yes."
Damien studied Elias's face, searching for hesitation, for expectation.
"You understand," Damien said slowly, "that if I agree, it will be on my terms."
Elias nodded. "I wouldn't ask otherwise."
Silence.
Then Damien spoke.
"Stand," he said.
Elias rose.
Damien stepped closer not touching, but close enough that the warmth between them became undeniable.
"Do not move," Damien instructed.
Elias obeyed.
Damien shifted just slightly, positioning himself beside Elias rather than in front of him. Their shoulders were nearly aligned. Not confrontational. Not intimate.
Intentional.
"This," Damien said calmly, "is proximity without possession."
Elias exhaled, tension easing from his shoulders in a way he hadn't expected. Standing there aware, steady, unclaimed yet undeniably connected felt grounding.
"You may look," Damien added.
Elias turned his head slightly, just enough to see Damien's profile. The controlled line of his jaw. The calm focus in his eyes.
Damien noticed and didn't stop him.
"Tell me what you feel," Damien said.
Elias considered carefully. "Stillness," he said. "Like something inside me has stopped fighting."
Damien nodded. "That's what structure does."
They stood like that for a long moment.
No touch. No words.
Just presence.
When Damien finally stepped away, Elias felt the absence but it didn't ache the way it once had.
"You did well," Damien said.
The praise landed deep.
"Thank you for asking," Damien continued. "Most people demand before they understand."
Elias swallowed. "And if I ask for more next time?"
Damien met his gaze. "Then I will decide whether you're ready."
The answer should have unsettled him.
It didn't.
It comforted him.
Elias hesitated, then spoke again. "There's something else."
Damien raised an eyebrow slightly. "Careful."
Elias huffed a quiet breath. "I want to know what you expect of me beyond rules."
Damien considered this carefully.
"I expect honesty," he said. "Even when it's inconvenient."
Elias nodded.
"I expect restraint," Damien continued. "Not because you lack desire but because you respect the pace."
Elias nodded again.
"And," Damien added, his voice lowering slightly, "I expect you to tell me when you are close to asking for something you're not ready to carry."
The weight of that expectation settled slowly.
"I can do that," Elias said.
Damien stepped closer again not as close as before. Enough to remind Elias that the space between them was always intentional.
"Good," Damien said.
Elias exhaled.
For the first time since this began, he felt aligned not pulled, not tested, not resisting.
Chosen.
Damien turned back toward the window.
"You should go," he said. "Tonight was enough."
Elias nodded and moved toward the door.
Before leaving, he paused.
"Damien," he said quietly.
"Yes?"
Elias hesitated only a second. "Thank you… for not taking more than I offered."
Damien didn't turn around.
"That," he replied, "is how trust survives."
Elias left with his heart steady and his thoughts clear.
Later that night, lying in bed, he realized something unsettling.
He no longer feared what Damien might take from him.
He feared how willingly he was preparing to give.
And somewhere in the quiet, he knew
The next time he asked, it wouldn't be for presence.