Four years and eleven months ago (aka one month after he met Ken)

Theo let his sore bottom lip slip from between his teeth and panted for breath. Sweat cooled along his spine at the small of his back, and a fine tremble had set into his thighs from overexertion. Ken's chest rose and fell choppily beneath his hands, as well. The sheets rustled as he shifted, and then a sharp crack shot through the room.

Pain bloomed across one of Theo's butt cheeks, and his eyes flew open. Ken just smirked at him and settled back onto the pillows with his hands behind his head. Pearly cum glistened against his abdomen in a trail from the tip of Theo's red, softening cock. And while his chest rose and fell as he caught his breath, there was no red flush to his face like the one making Theo's cheeks heated and blotchy.

He felt a sudden urge to hide. So, he carefully lifted off Ken with a groan, then flopped onto the bed beside him and buried his face into the pillows.

"You are a fucking dream bouncing on my cock like that, sweetness," Ken patted his butt right over where he had just smacked it. Theo watched out of the corner of his eye as he stripped the condom off and rolled out of the bed to go throw it in the trash and grab a few tissues to wipe off his stomach.

When he came back, Theo rolled onto his side. Still a little high from the last hit he took at the party they just came home from, he smoothed out the wrinkles in the sheets and mumbled, "Thanks. I'm still a little nervous about being on top."

Ken lifted an arm, and Theo curled up against his side, nuzzling into his chest. When he spoke, his voice rumbled against Theo's cheek. He liked that a lot.

"What are you worried about?" Ken asked him, "If it's this freshman fifteen, why don't you just come to the gym with me?"

He put his hand over Theo's belly and squeezed the little bit of pouch that was there because Theo was lying relaxed on his side. He watched Ken pat it a few times, then looked away. That had not been why he felt self-conscious – he'd been worried about his skill, pacing, and stamina - but it sure as hell was now. If he went to the gym, that would help with his stamina anyway, so maybe it would be a good thing all around.

"Okay," he agreed.

Then his phone rang in the pocket of his jeans, which lay strewn across the floor. Ken grumbled as he extracted himself to go retrieve it. By the time he managed to untangle his jeans and get the phone out of his pocket, he had already missed the call. He frowned at the notification.

"Who was it?" Ken asked.

"My parents," Theo sat on the edge of the bed, "Their home number, so probably my dad."

"What's he calling this late for?" Ken complained.

"Dunno. I should probably call him back." Theo unlocked his phone, but before he could do anything else, Ken plucked it out of his hands. He yelped in protest and reached after it, but Ken batted him away.

"Don't." He sat the phone face-down on the bedside table with a resounding thud, then grabbed both of Theo's wrists and drew him close. "You are always in a shitty mood after you talk to him. Don't call back."

"But what if it was my mom? Or what if something happened." Theo's eyes trailed toward the phone, guilt settling low in his gut when he realized that he just wanted to listen to Ken rather than do the responsible thing and be a good son.

"Call them back in the morning, but don't let them ruin tonight." Ken used his grip on Theo's wrists to flip him onto his back, then pushed his hands over his head and kissed the hinge of his jaw. "Come on, sweetie, you're with me tonight. Why did you even have your phone on? Honestly."

Theo glanced at his phone one last time as Ken licked his earlobe, then sucked lightly on it. He sighed and parted his legs to let Ken settle more firmly between them, turning his face to nuzzle and kiss his neck as well.

Today (Noon)

Theo jolted, a plea on his lips that he could hear loudly echoing inside his head. But instead of the kaleidoscopic, jarring nightmare he'd been entrenched in, he was surrounded by silence. Although there was a hand on his shoulder. His heart jumped into his throat, and he instantly shrank away, ending up wedged against the doorframe.

"Theo, it's alright."

The car was silent around him – no wind rushing through the open windows or engine rumbling through the frame. There was just the sound of his harsh breathing, loud above the thundering rush of blood in his ears. He swallowed the pleas that rose in his throat and blinked at Abel.

"There you are," Abel had a hand stretched toward him, but it was lifted unthreateningly, as though he was simply showing Theo where it was so that he knew there was no threat looming. "I'm sorry for startling you."

Theo smacked his lips together but could not get any words past where his heart was still lodged in his throat. His fingers, which had curled into painful fists in front of his abdomen, uncurled. He stared at the little crescent marks on his palms as blood rushed back into the compressed skin and turned them red. Then he looked up at Abel.

"Oh, come here, sweetheart." Abel opened his arms to invite Theo to lean across the center console and hide against his chest. He pressed his face into the soft firmness of Abel's pecs and sighed with relief as his arms wrapped around him. The twinge of breathlessness dissipated as he inhaled the familiar deodorant and that smell unique to Abel.

"Please don't call me that," he mumbled.

"Sweetheart?"

Theo nodded.

"Okay, I won't." Fingers carded through his hair. "Theo. Theodore. Has anyone ever called you Teddy?"

The gear shifter dug uncomfortably into Theo's stomach, so he moved to the side a bit. Abel's embrace followed him, and he never stopped playing with his hair. It would have been nice if they were in a bed instead of the car.

"My mom used to call me Teddy Bear."

"Oh?" Abel went silent for a couple of thumpity-thump heartbeats that Theo could feel in his chest and then asked, "Would you not like it if I called you that then?"

Theo played with the hem of Abel's shirt. A teddy bear was a soft, comforting thing, something like the stuffed elephant, whose insides had been spread across the sidewalk to be trampled upon by the people who passed by. Theo was all hard edges and sharp shadows because he had been determined never to end up like that—although he was pretty sure that there was no stuffing left to pull out of him anyway. He was hollow, no more than a shadow.

But how he wished to be something soft and comforting. For Abel to feel as much satisfaction from gathering him into his arms and cuddling him as he felt being held. Maybe he could restuff himself.

"No, I think I would like that."

Abel dropped a kiss to the top of his head. "Okay, Teddy."

He held him for a few more minutes as Theo's pulse slowed, guided by the thump-thump of Abel's heartbeat in his chest. Firm fingers combed through his hair. If they could stay like this forever and ever, Theo would be so happy. He did not want an ID or to see his aunt or to be a person. He just wanted to exist in Abel's arms.

"We're in town," Abel said eventually. "I figured we could grab a hotel room and maybe some lunch before heading to your aunt's place."

"Lunch first?" Theo mumbled into his chest. "I'm hungry."

"Perfect, because I already pulled up to a little Vietnamese place."

Theo popped his head up to see that they were indeed parked in a small strip mall parking lot. Flanking the aforementioned Vietnamese restaurant was a nail salon and a laundromat. On the end was a family drug store with a little mortar and pestle sign. Cars whooshed past on the main road, and kids ran around in the picnic area beside the parking lot where a soft-serve ice cream truck was parked.

The Vietnamese restaurant had a few pictures of their dishes in the window and a little blue and red open sign that blinked in the shadow of the awning that stretched over the entrance. Theo looked hopefully at Abel. "Pho?"

"That's what I was thinking," he unbuckled his seatbelt and popped open his door. Theo followed suit, unfolding from the car with an exaggerated stretch that felt oh-so-good beneath the blistering hot sun. When he met Abel in front of the car to walk into the restaurant, his hair was assaulted by a much rougher ruffle than the gentle strokes Abel had been soothing him with before. He ducked away with a squawk and put his hands over his head.

"You really should give your hair a break from all the bleach before it all falls out of your head," Abel told him.

Theo glared and ran his fingers through his hair to fix it. He could feel the dry strands crying out in anguish, so he knew that Abel was probably right. But he had been dying his hair non-stop for a long time, so he could not even imagine doing anything else. Though, he was trying new things, after all.

He glanced in the direction of the drugstore and said, "Why don't we dye it back to its normal color, and then I can let it grow out a bit before bleaching it again?"

Abel followed his line of sight, then grinned. "That's a great idea. Let's go see what they have, and then we can eat, yeah?"

They perused the hair dye section until they found one that Theo thought was probably similar to his natural hair color—chestnut brown. The guy at the checkout popped his gum and checked his phone while they were paying. As they left the store, the little bell above them tinkled, then they crossed over to the restaurant. Theo clutched the bag in one hand, letting it swing back and forth, hitting the side of his thigh.

He ducked into the restaurant when Abel held open the door for him and inhaled the savory, fresh scent of food cooking. A few people sat at the long communal tables stretching across the narrow room, and a couple of others were tucked into the booths that lined the walls. Abel guided Theo toward the counter, where a man directed them to take a seat.

One year ago (sans a couple of weeks)

He waved goodbye to Marissa and Rachel. They were the wives of two of Ken's henchmen and looked every bit the part with gaudy designer accessories and thousands of dollars of work done on their faces and tits. Theo was yoga buddies with them, and he always wondered if they knew that both of their husbands had fucked him before. Regardless, they were nice enough and always invited him to lunch with them after class.

He always declined.

Instead, he turned away and started down the street in the other direction. This was a nice neighborhood. Trees stood tall every couple of yards, shading the storefronts. The sidewalks were made from bright red bricks and the street was freshly paved, the asphalt black. People walked their dogs.

So, he wasn't paying much attention as he strolled along, deciding where to go to eat lunch. This was why he was so startled when one of the pedestrians heading in the opposite direction from him veered into his path. He came to an abrupt stop, hands tucked close to his stomach.

"Excuse me," the man said, then, "I'm sorry. You probably don't remember me."

"I remember you," Theo told him, taking another step back.

How could he forget? For starters, he was covered in thick black tattoos from his neck down to his knuckles. He had jewelry glinting in his ears and a pretty pair of eyes that looked straight through Theo instead of at him. They made him feel like he was more than just shadow art projected at a screen to entertain people, but an actual soul inside an actual body.

And this was the guy who caused a big scene at Ken's party the other night.

"Oh, okay, that's good because it would have been mortifying to have to explain to you where you knew me from just so I could apologize." He rubbed the back of his neck, and Theo looked at the way his black t-shirt stretched across his biceps. "I wanted to say that I'm really sorry for stepping into a situation without knowing what was up and then causing Ken to make you, uh...well, I'm sorry that my misunderstanding meant that your business got dragged out in front of the whole party."

Theo shrugged. "It's okay. Nothing they haven't seen before, honestly."

The man blanched, eyes going a little wide and scandalized the way they had been that night. But he quickly hid his surprise by looking at the yoga mat slung over Theo's shoulder. "You just get out of a fitness class or something?"

"Yes." Theo narrowed his eyes. "What's it to you? In fact, how the hell did you know where I was?"

People had stalked him before to get at him when he was away from the safety of Ken's influence. Ken was a scary man, but Theo was like catnip. Or so Ken told him whenever he reminded him to be careful. He was just too tempting with his pretty, feminine lips and bedroom eyes. So sometimes guys would find him when he was doing things like getting out of yoga class.

He checked over his shoulder to make sure the wives were gone.

The man, meanwhile, had thrown his hands out and protested Theo's suspicions. "Oh, I had no idea you came around here. I just...I work over there." He pointed across the street to a dark, industrial-aesthetic bar. "I saw you through the window and just wanted to apologize. That's all."

"Okay, thanks," Theo ducked his head and pressed his lips into a polite smile. He figured that would be the end of the conversation, but the guy was not finished.

"I actually took my lunch, so would you let me take you somewhere for a bite to eat?" He asked. "As an apology."

"Oh." He had been trying to decide where to go for lunch anyway. "Um."

"Come on." The guy checked his watch. "It's lunchtime. You just got out of yoga or whatever. What are you hungry for?"

"Vietnamese" was the first thing to roll off Theo's tongue. Because it was ridiculous and everyone always thought he was dumb for loving Goi cuon and Pho and for learning the proper way to pronounce them. But as he said it, he realized he really was craving a big, hearty bowl of broth.

"There's a place just down the block." The man smiled genuinely so that it reached his pretty eyes. Theo blinked. "Have you been?"

"Um, yeah," he said vaguely, enchanted by the sparkle in the guy's eyes. "They have pretty good pho."

"Let's go then. I'll treat you." He started down the sidewalk, gesturing for Theo to follow. "I'm Abel, by the way. What's your name?"

"Theo."

He watched in absolute amazement as Abel ordered a bowl of Pho, then looked across the table at Theo expectantly. "Get whatever you want."

Theo looked up at the waiter. "I'll just have a small bowl of pho, as well."

And then Abel sat back in his chair and looked at Theo, his head tilted back a little and his hands folded in his lap. Theo bristled under the scrutiny, glaring back and spitting, "What?"

"So how did a nice guy like you end up with an asshole like Ken?"

Theo snorted and looked away. "I'm not a nice guy."

Abel shifted his arms to cross them over his chest and tilted his head to the side. "No, I guess you aren't. What are you then?"

Theo stared at him across the table. Outside the big front windows of the store, pedestrians strolled by on the sidewalk. A few other tables were filled with people eating lunch. Someone was waiting for takeout, nose buried in their phone. The sounds from the kitchen—banging, sizzling, and shouting—escaped the swinging doors as the waiter pushed through them to bring their plastic bag filled with food. This was not exactly the place Theo wanted to discuss what he was if he even knew what that was anymore.

He used to be a student, a son, a boy. Now, he was a shadow, but he couldn't exactly explain that to Abel over a bowl of pho, even if the guy wanted to hear it. 'What's a nice guy like you...' is a pickup line if there ever was one, even if Abel had already gotten him into a restaurant. Christ, what was Theo doing here? This was not exactly a conversation for small talk. Even Theo's therapists used to have difficulty talking to him back in the day, and they were goddamn professionals.

"I'm a trophy wife," he waved a hand dismissively, despite being hardly anything close to a wife and far more dented than polished. "How about you?" He turned the conversation around because that was always a safe bet. "You work at a bar? Are you a bartender?"

"Yeah," Abel eased into the shift in conversation without missing a beat, but not as if he was full of it and happy to go on and on about himself the moment someone asked. His eyes lingered on Theo's, still peering into them curiously as though he wanted to push to get to know Theo but was aware that he was close to crossing a line that might make him bolt. "It's a...cocktail room more than a bar, really. Fancy stuff and reservations and whatnot. There's chandeliers in that place, for god's sake."

He pressed his lips together with one corner hooked up in an amused smile, eyes rolling. A man like this, with broad shoulders, a predator rearing back to strike tattooed on his neck, and mirror-black eyes, should not look that cute ever. But he somehow did. His eyelashes were gorgeous, softening his face. He was lively, open, and animated, nothing like the harsh and aggressive men Theo was used to. He was a person, not a demon.

"Sounds kinda cool, though." Theo looked at Abel's hands and imagined him making a cocktail with them. "Do you have to, like, memorize a bunch of recipes?"

"That and come up with new ones to suggest all the time," Abel told him. "That part is kind of fun."

The waiter returned, accompanied by the cacophony of the kitchens, their pho in hand. He set it before them, made sure they had everything they needed, then hurried off again. Abel picked up the chili oil on their table and peered through the bottle at the contents before mixing it in his dipping bowl with some hoisin sauce.

"I don't like cilantro, you know," he said, picking up his chopsticks.

"You rhymed," Theo pointed out, watching his fingers curl around the utensils. "Cilantro, you know."

"I did, didn't I?" Abel grinned and reached across the table to pinch a feathery green leaf of cilantro out of Thro's broth. He stuck it in his mouth, then made a face.

"What are you doing?" Theo laughed, surprised. "You said you didn't like it! Are you one of those people who thinks it tastes like soap?"

Abel nodded as he dipped a piece of beef into his chili oil before stuffing it into his mouth to get rid of the soapy cilantro taste. A smile lifted the corners of Theo's lips no matter how hard he tried to suppress it. He put an elbow on the table and rested his cheek in his palm to watch Abel chew, then lick the little bit of oil glistening on his lips.

They ate in silence for a little while, tearing up basil leaves, squeezing lemon over their bowls, and chasing pieces of beef around in the broth. Theo hummed happily as the rich broth filled his belly with warmth.

Abel glanced up and met his eyes, something curious glinting across their gaze. Theo's breath caught somewhere in his chest and lodged there just like all his thoughts suddenly turned syrupy slow. He was not sure how to feel about someone looking genuinely curious about him, not his body or Ken, but him. Like Able was looking past the pretty blue of Theo's eyes straight into his fizzling-out thoughts.

Before either could break the strange suspended moment of time, Theo's phone rang, and he dropped his eyes to it. Immediately, that ray of elation is snuffed out like a peek of sunlight amongst the clouds. It never stood a chance anyway.

Ken's name stared up at him from his screen. His finger hovered over it, caught between not wanting to take a call from his boyfriend, slash pimp, slash personal demon in front of Abel, and not wanting to face the inevitable hell said demon would rain down if he declined the call. He bit his lip.

He declined the call and then immediately sent a quick text that he was on his way home.

"I've got to go," he said, glancing up briefly as his thumbs typed out the message.

Abel had this look on his face, and Theo did not really know what to do with it either. He looked almost worried, the corners of his lips drawn down, and his eyes suddenly tight instead of liquid warm like they had been just moments before. He was probably annoyed that Theo was on his phone. Ken always got irate if Theo paid attention to his phone instead of him.

"Sorry," Theo sent off the text and shoved the phone below the table, hiding it from view, drawing his arms in to make himself smaller in his seat. "Thanks for lunch."

"No problem,' Abel said breezily, completely at odds with the expression on his face. "It's too bad you already have to go. We should do it again sometime. Could I get your number?"

Theo's face warmed. But below the table, his phone buzzed against his fingers with Ken's response—reality calling. He frowned. "That's...no, sorry. That's not a good idea."

He stood hastily, caught between glancing down at his phone and keeping an eye on Abel's furrowed brow. He was distracted enough that he caught his foot on the leg of the chair and nearly tumbled to the ground, knocking into the table and rattling all of the dishes.

"Christ, sorry," he apologized again with a huff as Abel put a steadying hand on the table. "Thanks again."

Then he bolted, turning on his heel to hide his flaming face and avoid Abel's reaction to his less-than-graceful retreat.