What do we do now

Cody returns the phone to Ewen, who begins to pace in Aim's closet dreamily, trying to come up with a plausible excuse to explain his behavior. Why did he disappear without leaving a sound, and why is Zack acting so weird lately?

'I know he's very protective of me, but I've never asked him to escort or watch over me as my guardian angel. That's not even the problem, but day by day, he takes up a lot more space. He gets angry even when a girl greets him. What's the problem? Anyone outside of our circle can mistake his behavior for being coy. The guy is crazy sometimes.'

The phone rang twice before a half-joyful, half-worried voice answered on the other end.

"Zack is worried about you. Do you even know that?" These are Ewen's mother's first words to keep her son from suspecting her fear—her fear that he will be hurt or worse.

They have always been very close to each other. Their relationship is much more than being mother and son; they are friends and confidants.

"And you, then, weren't you worried?" Ewen inquired, knowing the other's techniques for concealing her emotions.

"Of course, you scared me, but I thought it was time for you to do things without my consent, and I know you. So I let you live a little without supervision, my constant worry, and all these incessant calls that I bombard you with when you are away from me for a few minutes—at the same time, hoping for your call from time to time. It's getting late; where are you? "

"Oh, mom, I'm sorry," he uttered softly after listening to his mother.

"I hadn't planned to go out, much less hide it from you. It happened so quickly that I didn't have time to tell you about it. I just wanted to talk to him, like, you know, and it was impossible with Zack, who never let go of my soles for a minute. I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to worry you. Ewen continues to explain to his mother in an apologetic tone.

"Did he call him too?"

"Don't worry, I also thought about this possibility, so are you going to tell me or not?"

"Who kept you so busy during the day that you forgot to tell your dear mother about your news?" "..and don't worry, he didn't call him."

"I can't tell you right now, but I promise we'll talk about it once I get home. Can you wait for me until then?"

"Why not now?" "I won't be able to focus on my business by then."

" Mom!" He muttered, in a plaintive tone, "We'll talk about all that when I get back, OK?" She sighed so loudly on the other end of the line that Ewen took the phone away from his ear; she barely made him deaf with that sigh.

"OK," she cooed resignedly. "So I'll see you tonight, my baby."

"See you tonight, mom."

He smiled and hung up the phone with relief, then bit his lower lip, thinking about what had just happened between him and Aim. While swiveling on himself, he met Aim's gaze lingering on him. The latter was leaning casually on the door frame. His head tilted slightly to the side.

He's wearing faded blue jeans and a white t-shirt; his bare feet are tucked into the plush beige carpet, and his hair is pulled up in a complicated bun that lets loose streaks escape.

He jumped slightly and blushed in front of the beautiful painting Aim had formed in the door frame. Despite Aim's appealing, elegant features and exceptional beauty, he was even more virile than ever. He doesn't look like a girl, yet he has what it takes to look like one—a gorgeous one.

If that isn't an insult to his majestic beauty, someone might dare to compare him to one of those Greek gods whose people sing about their beauty.

He is the Eros of modern times. He is handsome and fit and has a strong personality for a kid his age. To top all that, he is a billionaire; nature has given him everything.

"Ah, I had to do charitable and honorable works for heaven to be so good to me!" Ewen gaped mentally after his little inspection of the stallion.

He turned his attention to his hand for a moment, which he used to touch Aim's exaggeratedly huge thing earlier.

The feeling that ran through him at that moment was the most wonderful. The feeling of the rugged and robust member growing tirelessly under his palm was extraordinary. "He's enormous," he thinks, "and not just a little."

He wants to start over again. He wants to touch it to better assimilate its effect on him. He wants to be sure that it was not the blow of the action that made him feel these deep and insane needs. He needs to see how much he will enjoy touching and stroking it, but Ewen is afraid—afraid that everything is too fast and fearful that he should take responsibility for his action. "I am unsure how to manage a business of such importance," he mumbled between his clenched teeth.

"Pff, when my grandfather thought my shoulders weren't strong enough to keep his damn airline company afloat. Tsk, it's funny because what I had in my hand was heavy. And I didn't even lift it; I touched it." He whispers boldly between his teeth.

He made the comparison as if it were the same: running a company worth billions with the insanely colossal cock his future boyfriend has between his legs.

Well, we will say it's even... His grandfather allowed himself to evaluate and eliminate him from the race based on his appearance without considering his intellect. We will say he was right to make the comparison. It is undoubtedly daring, but it is fair game.

"Something is nagging me—why does it feel so good when he hugs me?" I love it when he presses me against him. I love feeling his arms around my waist. "It's like I was born to be there, snuggled up against him; his body's warmth and smell are a pure delight."

While he was mumbling and thinking about these things, his ears and face turned bright red like tomatoes. He tried to hide his face to prevent Aim from noticing the blush that invaded his cheeks.

And the latter, with half-closed eyes still leaning on the door frame, didn't miss a thing, so his veil attempt to hide his blush was futile.

"Why are you hiding your face?"

"What are you talking about?" "I'm not hiding anything," Ewen snapped defensively. "How long have you been here?"

"Didn't I tell you not to turn away from me when you're blushing? I like seeing you confused and shy," he said calmly as he approached him, completely ignoring his questions.

Ewen took a step back and stopped short at the same time.

"What's the point of trying to get away from him?" he muttered. "We're in a closet as big as a dormitory, but all it takes is one order from him to lock us up here, and I'll be at his mercy. I am in the lion's den, after all. What's the point, hm?"

He gathered all his courage and stood in front of him with his head held high like a cheeky child and faced him, holding his gaze for just a few seconds, and he gave up.

He can't stand his gaze for too long. Those beautiful steel blue eyes and this wonderful mouth are driving him crazy as fuck, so he should avoid that for now.

"I barely escaped a few minutes ago; why tempt the devil again?" He thought. He took a step back to separate himself from Aim, allowing some air to pass between them to replace the tense one.

"Why are you so cheeky now? You looked so innocent and pure a while ago. Where did that kid go?" He asks Aim, who is staring at him as usual, like a predator with a particular flame in his eyes, which is worse now that he's not wearing his contact lenses, which has him in an uproar.

"I'm no longer a child; you know that since you just got the proof a few minutes ago."

Ewen turned away abruptly, disturbed by his voice tone and eye display. Aim grabbed his arm and forced him to look at him.

"I'm not going to repeat myself every time you're blushing, Ken, hm?" He snapped almost rudely. "It would be best if you did not turn away from me. I like seeing you blush when I am responsible for it. Do you understand?" Aim asks him with unflinching authority while supporting his chin.

Ewen held his gaze shyly and nodded softly like an obedient kitten. He doesn't know why, but he had this tremendous urge to let the man in front of him dominate him.

"Good boy," Aim said calmly and mischievously. He placed a soft kiss on Ewen's lips and released him. "I like you this way," he said.

Troubled, Ewen remained on the spot without moving, whereas the other moved away and passed him without looking at him.

"So, what do you want to wear?" Aim inquired gently. "Don't tell me your mother also chooses your clothes, hm?" He asked him with mockery.

"Quit talking nonsense. I choose my clothes all by myself, as does everything that has to do with me."

While Ewen was talking, Aim looked at him from the corner of his eye, watching his every reaction. 'He is so delicate,' he admits, 'and he seems very fragile and so fetching too.'

'And this friend of his, who is he exactly? He's not his honey or his hive. I don't like to see him hovering around Ken like a bee. The worst thing is that they are close, very close, and even too close for my taste.' he was thinking, but he was listing to Ewen too.

"This is different from what I understood earlier," he replied to Ewen

while chasing away these thoughts and stopped watching him out of the corner of his eye to go towards one of the closet compartments where Gueniève arranges all his Bermuda.

He is trying as hard as he can to focus on something else without succeeding. 'Has he ever had boyfriends, and how many?' Questions like this keep haunting him and prevent him from doing what he comes in here for.

'Where am I going to look for these questions that torment me? Why the very fact of thinking that he has already had other lovers bothers me so much?'

He stopped his gesticulation and turned abruptly in the direction Ewen was, and what he saw bothered him even more than the questions he was asking himself, but why?

Ewen was there, standing in a daze, admiring the collection of watches he had in front of him. He was amazed, playful, moved, and so on... what is certain is that the expression on his face now is genuinely exceptional.

He likes beautiful things; we all know it since he said it, right? he loves everything that has to do with aesthetics and art. He loves good things, common sense, and good taste. And what he has before his eyes is the finest and probably the most expensive collection he has ever seen or heard of, and he loves watches. He has a few too.

Aim had a twinge in his heart seeing him like that in front of these things. 'Why are his eyes so beaming at these things?' He wonders with annoyance.

"Do you want them?" He asked him a little harshly.

"Are you kidding?" Ewen asked immediately without even bothering to look at him; otherwise, he would have faced an Aim whose face was twisted with anger.

Ewen is fascinated by the common sense and taste of the owner. "At this age, Aim has exquisite taste." he thought.

'Next to him, I will learn to channel my art better and develop more daring techniques and patterns. Maybe with this, my father will see and love me as my mother does.' He was far away and lost in thought, while Aim felt complex feelings by looking at this look on his face.

'Does Aim think of me as I feel about him? What can I offer him? I have nothing to arouse his curiosity. He has money and power; he has everything already.'

'He was a pampered and loved child while his parents were alive. They protected him from the public eye. If it weren't for their death, we would never have seen him in the spotlight, yet his parents were well-known artists in their trade.'

'Who knows what I would have become today if I didn't have my mother?

My dad always makes fun of me, my appearance, and everything. He is not even afraid or ashamed to disparage me when he receives guests.

And if we date and see each other more often, will he have to go through the same lame treatment of me?'

'I'm not ready to see him become the laughingstock of anyone, not even for my well-being.' He stopped thinking and sighed. Then he passed a weary hand in his hair to collect himself.

'Why do I think about the future? Did I go crazy in a day? Did I already forget how it was when we first kissed? Should I talk about it now, or should I ignore it?' finally, he remembered there was nothing concrete between them.

"I am not. I'll leave it to you if you like it." Aim replied honestly with an odd calm in his voice.

Ewen turned to him with wide eyes and responded as quickly as possible, trying to get out of his hilarious thoughts.

"You must be crazy, kid. It must be worth billions of dollars. You can't dispose of it like this."

"Of course, I can," retorted Aim without hesitation. No matter how much it must cost, I'll leave them to you if you like them. It's puny compared to what I'm ready to give you," he said bluntly, without even paying attention.

These words crossed his lips like lightning; it was already too late to go back on them. It wouldn't even be very Aim if he had said something saner or normal. He would have said it one of these days, anyway.

But Aim had no intention of retracting either; he wanted to tell him, and he did, except that he did not expect to do it so soon. But Aim and his brain have two distinct functions.

"It's a good thing; at least he knows now what awaits him," he mumbled when he saw the display of confusion writing all over Ewen's face. At that thought, he knew that wasn't something to say on a first date or whatever they call it.

Ewen coughed violently with a start. Aim word's shaken the hell out of him. With him, everything is new. he didn't have to ask to receive, while in his past relationship, he was always the donor, never the receiver. Aim must be insane to say something like that and willing to give away such an amazing collection.

Who wouldn't startle at those words, huh? Unless that were what you were looking for, even pretending wouldn't be so natural... and in Ewen's startle, the Graff diamond hallucination that he admired closely escaped from his fingers.

He didn't think he'd be able to admire it so closely in such a short time, and today he's going to be the one who damaged it.

Fortunately, the watch fell directly onto his foot; he thanked heaven for saving him from his clumsiness as he bent down to pick it up as quickly as he could, fearful of any rude reaction from Aim for touching his things without permission.

Aim rushed towards him, and Ewen's heart skipped a beat, seeing him moving so fast in his direction. Ewen's lungs caught on fire and made him unable to breathe, dripping sweat bumping his forehead and spine.

But to his amazement, the latter knelt at his feet and took his little foot between his hands, his skin very soft and smooth like a baby's skin, turning red on the impact of the watch. Aim caressed where the watch ended up, brought it to his mouth instinctively, and kissed it softly.

Ewen isn't sure what is happening to him, you can tell by the way his eyes pop out of their sockets, and his heart starts beating again. If, of course, we can call this frantic galloping in his chest heartbeats.

The touch of Aim's lips on Ewen's skin made the latter shiver and wavered like a flame. He is trying to hide his shock and not faint on the carpet like a doll whose battery had been removed abruptly. He clung to the long glass counter that contained the collection of watches, cufflinks, other jewelry, and accessories of all kinds, one as luxurious as the other.

Aim, who misses nothing of this fight that Ewen is leading alone, all by himself, continues to caress his foot with his thumbs as if it were the most precious thing he had the chance to touch all his life.

He raised his head towards him slowly by taking his time. He plunged his azure gaze into Ewen's and said with infinite gentleness.

"I want you," in a voice as sensual as it is profound.

A small light went on just above Ewen's head. It was the last drop of water to make the vase overflow. He couldn't take it anymore; it was enough, and he was not used to all this. Without understanding, he burst into tears. He sat down on the padded leather armchair which was behind him feverishly.

Aim handed him a footstool, where he gently put his foot down and sat right in front of him on the carpet, still stroking his foot without losing his serious expression.

"Why are you crying, Ken?"

"I don't know," he said between two violent sobs.

"Don't you want to be mine?" Aim asked softly again

"No, no, it's not like that," Ewen hastened to say.

"Talk to me, explain to me. I'm listening." Aim replied, eager to understand why the latter was in this state.

"You are straightforward; you know what you want; you say it straight. And I don't know why I'm crying, but I know that you disturb me, Quincy, to such an extent that I feel lost. You provoke complex reactions in me. Things I don't even know." Ewen tries his best to explain his feelings without finding the right word.

In search of an answer to his request and to better understand what was going on in the other's head, Aim asked him: "Is this a good thing?" he has to persist; otherwise, he risks not understanding certain things and not to mention that he wants him to be his and only his.

Timidly, Ewen replied, "yes, I want you too, but everything is new to me. Will you be patient with me?"

"I'm willing to wait decades if I have to," Aim said bluntly without thinking. "If you saw me on TV, what ten years ago? And here you are in my broom closet today. So, I have no problem waiting over and over until you're ready, Ken."

Ewen's tears increased after hearing that shameless statement. At that speed, he risked drowning them if he continued like this for a few seconds.

The question Aim wanted to ask him a moment ago burns his lips like hot coals; he doesn't know if it will be too much if he continues with a new request. He doesn't want to pressure him, either. But now he's pretty sure he hasn't had another lover before him. But still, he has to confirm it correctly. That's what his bunch of friends teach him, after all.

"Have you had other boyfriends before?" Aim heard himself ask anyway, just after thinking about not rushing Ewen.

Ewen perceived the edge of harshness in the sentence and decided to spice up this conversation a little. It's time for him to stop crying like a little girl.

"Yes," he said without blinking, "I had several." he spouted proudly.

Aim jerked to his feet effortlessly as if his tall figure didn't prevent him from doing so, his face contorted in anger. It wasn't the answer he was waiting for, and that annoyed him to the core.

"Hey," Ewen said, seeing the ugly face he had. Almost nothing left of this handsome stallion he admired leaning against the door not long ago.

He slipped his slander hand into Aim's and grabbed his index finger, which he shook to get his attention. Aim turned to him; his eyes had a frozen bluish tint that made Ewen flinch when he looked at him almost with contempt and disgust, and without knowing why he found himself giving him explanations, almost stuttering.

He drops the game; it's no longer fun when Aim pulls that long ugly ass face with those eyes, sending daggers and this creepy chill that invades the closet.

"You're the only boy I've kissed and touched so far before I had girlfriends, but we didn't achieve great things; each time, it was like a bad show for children. I felt more emotions in one minute spent with you than three months in their company. I was not a Don Juan; I was more of an accessory than a boyfriend."

Aim's face, ravaged by anger and contempt, gradually relaxed as he listened to the flood of words that Ewen had just said to calm him down. And change that freaking suffocating atmosphere to a freshwater source in the desert under a blazing sun.

He stared at him intently as his eyes changed expression and shades. After the rain comes good weather, as they say, this sea, disturbed by a storm of significant magnitude, gradually gives way to a pure and clear sky.

Ewen breathed a sigh of relief, seeing this threatening cloudless sky looming before his eyes.

"Oh, do you mean you lied to me? Is that right?"

Ewen gave him a slight smirk to mock him. Aim looked at his beautiful little face intently and intensely, then shook his head while groaning between clenched teeth.

"You'll pay me for that," he said. And he continued in a more serious and firm tone. "From today, you are mine, and you belong to me. If you want to take your freedom one day, be sure it will be after my death."

He utters these words without an ounce of joking; he is serious. The other looked at him, amused and scared simultaneously, which did not prevent him from asking the following question.

"Are you jealous, Quincy?" Aim is startled slightly when Ewen says his name, but he doesn't let Ewen notice it. It's weird or rather odd to hear him call him that, but one thing is sure it's not unpleasant at all. He would like to ask him to repeat it, but he refrains from doing so. It's not the moment. He has more important things to do and will have plenty of time for that.

He chuckled nervously before getting serious again. "I'm territorial. I don't know, but I don't want to see you with someone else. Like your friend, for example, the one with whom you have spent the last few days without letting go of him for a second. I don't want that, and it makes me nervous."

"So you're jealous," said the other, amused by his explanation of the situation. "So you wanted to see me?"

"Whatever," retorted Aim, "I'm not too fond of it, and it's clear to me. Of course, I wanted to apologize but didn't get the chance."

"Apologize for what?"

"Yeah, for rushing and maybe hurting you when I kissed you on the roof. I was sorry to have acted like this towards you and told you I was just afraid I hurt you with my rudeness."

"I wasn't hurt; it's the last few days that hurt me since every time I tried to approach you, you walked away with your friends. You ignored me while I spent three days without eating and without leaving my room, wondering what had happened to me that day...." he paused for a moment as if he was scared to finish the remaining sentence looking away from Aim... "I thought it was just a joke."

"And now? said Aim, eager to know what he thinks about them now that they talked things out.

"I am your possession," Ewen said hesitantly in a small voice without looking up at him, his cheeks burning as usual.

"But still," said Aim authoritatively.

"uh…your boyfriend?"

"Could you tell me why you're asking me a question? You're unsure or don't want to? Aim snapped with the same authority in a firm tone.

"I'm your boyfriend and your possession," Ewen resumed cheerfully and shyly.

Aim smiled and ran a hand through his hair; the mere fact that Ewen said those words himself made him happy. He thinks, amused: "Honestly, this weird boy will give me a hard time."

He is so cute; I will do anything to keep him with me and this at any price. This feeling of peace comes over me when he is close to me. I want to live it, materialize it. But am I the best choice for him?

I've always wanted to find someone I can spend hours with while being myself, and experiencing the everyday life that other people lead, which means being a child or just an ordinary person.

Not some kind of machine or a billionaire or other name and title that I will have to carry around shortly, and these changes that I must undertake in my life in the days to come will turn my world upside down.

Aim starts thinking like a grown-up boy now.

I found someone I could hug, even kiss. "Laugh"! It's all pretty comical for someone like me. The presence of people around me bothers me; I am haptophobic.

Certainly, Ethan is the one who has helped me the most with human contact, but I have never wanted to touch someone so far.

And this pretty little flower, with incredibly surprising and very strange petals right in front of me, is the only person who pushes me to act unreasonably.

He makes me want to:

Make love to him.

Kiss his feet and such.

I am thinking about doing lots of inexplicable things to him all day long.

Things I didn't even think I was capable of thinking or wanting.

You are mine, Kenan.

...

Cody had their dinner brought up to the room. They stayed together, discussing the things that made Ewen follow him to that roof and how.

Cody watches them laugh and chat like children. He never saw Aim in this state; he was always sad and alone, staring blankly. Look at him today; his eyes shine like fireworks; he becomes a child like all the others. He is alive.

For once, he is not stuck in his office working for hours and hours without sleeping or eating sometimes.

He takes the liberty of recording this moment and takes the opportunity to send photos and videos of the two sitting on the carpet to eat while laughing at the things they tell each other to Nodge.

Nodge can't believe his eyes. Mr. Kenbes is sitting on the carpet eating, carelessly laughing, his hair tied up in a very loose bun without that awful wig he hates so much, with crazy strands of hair sticking out of it.

He became a child without any responsibility or duty to anyone; He heaved a deep sigh thinking of the threat hanging over his Empire and his life.

If he doesn't take control of his Empire, these crooks will steal it from him. He will give without hesitation everything he has to see this child as happy as in these pictures and videos all his life.

Aim took Ewen home. It was almost eleven o'clock, and he didn't want the latter to leave, but they had no choice. He has to go home. Ewen chose the Bugatti Chiron that he drove himself; they were laughing like crazy. He intertwined Aim's fingers as he slowed down and brought his hand to his blissful lips.

Arrived at Ewen's a little too quickly for their liking, the new couple felt frazzled. They stayed in the car for a moment, their fingers still intertwined. Aim stroked the palm of Ewen's hand as he stared at the house. When he saw lights flashing like an SOS, he turned to him with a weak smile.

"You have to go now," he tells him. "But next time, you will stay sleeping with me or come to live with me, OK?"

Ewen smiled wordlessly and opened the door to get out of the car when Aim pulled him into a hug.

"Please stay a little longer," he whispers in his ear, almost like a prayer. It's not like every day he crosses paths with someone with whom he feels so peaceful and well in his skin, so he would like to keep him by for much longer.