He turned slightly, already moving toward the easel where he'd left his sketchpad.
But Ethan didn't move. Not away, at least.
Instead, he reached forward and lightly grabbed Daniel's wrist.
Daniel froze.
Not violently, not startled. Just a slow, measured stillness; like a deer that hadn't decided whether to run.
Ethan's fingers were warm. Steady.
"I was thinking..." Ethan said, voice low, careful, "maybe we could grab a drink or something."
Daniel turned his head, slowly, to face him.
There was a moment, a flicker like he was assessing him for bruises that hadn't happened yet.
He exhaled, a tired sigh, like this was the last thing he wanted but the first thing he couldn't ignore.
"Do you actually want a drink," he asked flatly, "or are you just inventing excuses?"
Ethan's lips curled slightly; not in a smirk, but something brave. "No. I don't need an excuse. I need time."
Daniel's eyes narrowed. "Time for what?"
Ethan met his gaze with something too bare to look away from. "To be with you."
Silence.
Daniel's shoulders stiffened.
"To be with me?" he repeated, like the words were unfamiliar. Like he needed to test their weight before allowing them in.
Ethan nodded.
Daniel's brow twitched. He took a slight step back, but Ethan's hand didn't drop.
"Explain 'more time,'" Daniel said. "Because I want to be clear what we're talking about."
Ethan didn't flinch. "I want to sit across from you without pretending this is just a job. I want to hear what your laugh sounds like when it's not buried under all that control. I want to stop guessing if the way you look at me means anything."
Daniel looked at him for a long time.
Too long.
Then finally, he asked, quietly: "You've never slept with a man, have you?"
Ethan blinked at the directness; but didn't look away.
"No," he said. "I haven't."
Daniel crossed his arms, defensive now, a professor mid-lecture. "Then why now? What is this? Curiosity? Confusion?"
He didn't sound cruel. But he didn't sound kind either.
He sounded like someone trying to protect himself.
Ethan didn't answer right away. So Daniel pressed again.
"If it's curiosity," Daniel continued, "then let's just get it over with. Once. That way you won't waste my time tailing me around this place with your big eyes and your half-posed questions. You'll get your answer, and I won't have to deal with this again."
The words landed like a slap.
Ethan stiffened, hand still holding Daniel's wrist; not gripping now, just touching.
There was a long pause before Ethan answered. His voice was soft, but not weak.
"Okay," he said.
Daniel flinched.
Ethan took a step closer, close enough that their shoes nearly touched.
His expression didn't waver. He wasn't smiling. He wasn't challenging.
He was just... there.
Honest.
"If that's what you want," Ethan added, "then yeah. Let's do it once. Let's make it real. If that helps you shut the door on whatever this is."
Daniel's throat moved a sharp swallow like something got stuck halfway down.
But what really shook him was the look in Ethan's eyes.
It wasn't hunger.
It wasn't lust.
It was something quieter. Something more dangerous.
Certainty.
No performance. No naïve confusion. Just a choice, made in full light.
And that shook him more than anything else.
Daniel stepped back only slightly like he needed space to breathe.
Ethan didn't follow.
He just let his hand fall to his side, as if to say your move.
Daniel rubbed his wrist where Ethan's fingers had been, as if the skin still held heat.
"I didn't say yes," he said.
Ethan shrugged. "Didn't say no either."
Daniel met his eyes, and for a moment, his expression betrayed something... not fear, but a kind of internal vertigo. Like the floor had shifted under him.
"I'm not some prize to win," Daniel said tightly. "And I'm not here to teach you who you are."
"I never asked you to," Ethan said. "I know who I am. I just don't think you do."
That stopped Daniel cold.
"I think," Ethan continued, "you're the one who's scared of what this might mean."
Daniel's voice dropped. "And I think you're too young to understand how messy this can get."
Ethan nodded. "Maybe. But that's not the same as being wrong."
Another silence.
The kind that stretched between two people who both knew the next thing said would change something permanently.
Finally, Daniel didn't turn away.
Instead, he stayed facing Ethan, eyes sharp but tired, like a man wrestling with a storm that refused to break.
"You're playing with something you don't fully understand," he said.
Ethan tilted his head. "And you think you do?"
Daniel looked him in the eye, no hesitation this time.
"I've lived it."
Ethan stepped close again; not touching, just breathing the same air.
"Then stop running from it."
.....
Daniel's jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides. He looked at Ethan like he was both an enigma and a threat.
"You don't get to tell me what to do," Daniel said quietly, but with more steel than before.
Ethan's smile was faint, but it reached his eyes.
"I'm not trying to tell you what to do," he said softly. "I'm just saying; you're the one who's running. Not me."
Daniel shook his head, his voice barely a whisper now. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"I do," Ethan replied, voice steady. "Because I know what it feels like to want someone and be scared of what that means. I'm not some reckless kid anymore. I'm not just curious, I'm sure. And I want you to be sure, too."
Daniel's eyes flicked away, then back again.
"What if I'm not?" he asked.
"What if you are?" Ethan countered.
Daniel swallowed hard. "You think this will fix something?"
Ethan shrugged again, that careless gesture of youth and stubbornness.
"No. Maybe it'll just be a start."
Daniel shook his head slowly, like he was trying to clear a fog.
"Or maybe it'll just make things worse."
Ethan's expression softened.
"Maybe," he agreed. "But if we don't try, we'll never know."
Daniel's gaze fell to the floor, then back to Ethan's face.
"You really want this," Daniel said after a long pause.
"I do," Ethan said simply.
Daniel exhaled deeply, like he was making a decision that might change everything.
"Fine," he said finally, voice low. "One night. But no illusions, Ethan. No promises."
Ethan nodded.
"Just the truth," Daniel said.
"Just the truth," Ethan echoed.
They stood like that for a moment, two people caught on the edge of something neither fully understood but both knew was inevitable.
.....
But then Daniel surprised himself.
Instead of stepping back or away, instead of retreating to that guarded distance he'd perfected over the years, he stayed rooted.
His eyes, sharp and tired, met Ethan's again.
"I want this night to be the last time you chase this... chaos you've stirred up," Daniel said quietly.
Ethan's brow lifted, but he said nothing.
"This back and forth; the tension, the questions maybe after tonight, once you've satisfied your curiosity, you'll finally stop."
Ethan's lips curled into a soft, understanding smile.
"You're not alone in this," he said.
Daniel nodded slowly, the weight of years settling on his shoulders.
"Maybe if we just get this over with, I can stop pretending this isn't a mess," Daniel said flatly, voice steady but clipped.
Ethan stepped closer, close enough that Daniel caught a flicker of something hopeful in his eyes.
"We'll take it slow," Ethan said. "No rush. No pressure."
Daniel swallowed once, then nodded curtly.
"Fine," he said, his tone sharp. "Let's get this done."