As soon as he rang on Amos's door, it swung open and he was pulled into a warm, enveloping hug and surrounded by the irresistible scent of soap, spices, and the other man's discreet, earthy aftershave. He must have showered and shaved. 

"Where do you want to go?" he asked, pulling back gently.

Charles look up at him and almost wished he hadn't - a wistful sigh escaped him. 

Amos was so handsome... Dark trousers and expensive patterned shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showing brown, muscled forearms, with a short black apron wrapped around his hips, making him for the moment look a bit less imposing and more domestic. The semi-formal wear hung on him perfectly, and he fit into the modern yet inviting space, looking casual and elegant. 

The apartment was dark and masculine, but made cosy from the throws, tapestries, and richly coloured warm textiles that accented it. Something smelled good from the kitchen...rich and spicy. 

"Can we...just eat here?" he asked, gazing up at him and trying not to feel insecure about his own appearance in comparison to the older man. 

"Get takeaway or something, and t-talk? I know you wanted to go somewhere, but - "

Tugging him gently forward and wrapping an arm around him, Amos pulled the door shut behind them, holding him. Charles melted against him, cheek resting on the dense, finely woven fabric of his shirt. 

"We can do anything you like, as long as I get to be in your company," he rumbled, his deep bass voice soft. 

"If I'd know you wanted to eat in I could have cooked - I have actually just put on a stew, but it needs to simmer overnight to become edible. Let me show you some menus from places around here that deliver."

Still keeping Charles casually pressed along his side - where the blond was exceedingly content to stay, wrapping one arm around Amos's wait to keep him close - he walked them over to a drawer in the kitchen and withdrew a stack of menus before settling them both on the tan, sink-into leather couch in his living room.

Charles couldn't remember seeing much of the apartment last time he was here. Then, he had arrived tipsy and absorbed in the other man, and left in a frazzled hurry. 

Sitting here with him now, looking through the colourful little paper pamphlets, felt so comfortable, so easy and pleasant...

Without even thinking about it, the blond nuzzled closer, and Amos tightened his arm around him, eyes warm and tender. He traced a finger over the bruises still showing on Charles's neck, hand brushing lightly over the compress over the stitches on the back of his head. 

"Someone touched you in anger, since I last had you in my arms," he remarked, fingertips tracing the bruises just beginning to fade around his neck.

He didn't say anything else, face blank the way it usually was in public, but Charles could see the emotions dancing in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Charles said. "For, um, running away without explaining anything, and being involved with someone while you and I..."

"We never promised to be exclusive," Amos said, expression inscrutable. "I'm extremely upset that your ex hurt you - I'm not upset with you. Although I wish I could have done more."

He kissed his forehead. 

"I hope you will consider being more open with me now. At your speed, naturally," he promised. "I don't think you're any less perfect for having a past. I'm just grateful it brought you to me."

They ordered indian, staying on the couch, candles lit on the coffee table and fluffy throws tangled around them. 

Charles nibbled on naan bread, dipping it into a lamb curry, snuggled up close to the small business owner. Hot, comforting, tasty food. Amos served then both lime water with it, although he offered soda that the smaller man declined. 

They ate and talked and then Charles stared up at him and leaned in, close, close. Cosy and romantic candle-light, noses brushing, lips connecting in a slow, soft kiss. 

When Amos gripped his arms and pushed him backwards, gently but firmly, he looked up, dazed.

"Mhm?"

Amos ran his thumb over Charles's glistening bottom lip and sighed.

"I didn't mean to kiss you."

Those words felt like a bucket of ice water upended over over his head.

"You didn't want - ?"

"Oh, I did. I do. Don't you worry about that. But we should have a conversation first. About exactly what you desire. About what I'm offering."

He looked bemused, pressing with his thumb, watching as Charles obediently let him slip it into his mouth, quietly hopeful now.

"So trusting," the other man mused. "I shouldn't have brought you home that first time when you'd had so much to drink."

"I sobered up..."

"Then you ran away, and I figured that was as much as I deserved. That you regretted it."

"No..." Charles whispered when the other man withdrew his digit. 

"We should have talked more, in the beginning." Amos said, leaning in to pepper light kisses along his jaw. 

"I, um, think we were too busy having sex."

"True. I can't find it in myself to regret any time spent with you, but..."

Charles gasped, tilting his head back as Amos trailed his lips up his neck, allowing him better access and leaning half over into his lap.

"So - so t-talking...?" he managed, breath catching with each light, enticing kiss.

With a small groan, Amos pulled back. "Yes. That would be best."

His eyes raked over Charles, and the blond shivered, feeling his cock throb. Just the other man's eyes, his voice...they were intoxicating.

"I should have been clearer from the start. I think I told you that no-one had captured my attention in a long time. And that I'd like to - to be with you, get to know you."

Charles nodded, and his skin felt hot and tingly. He remembered what Amos had asked him before...

"Do you want a boyfriend?"

The blond froze. The fact it that was even an option, that someone like Amos was offering it to him... God, he didn't know how to feel about - could someone as broken as him ever deserve someone like - surely no-one would ever want to - ?

"Or," Amos continued, "A dom?"

At this, Charles couldn't disguise the shiver running through him, the deeper shade of red he turned. Amos smiled.

"But have you been in a relationship like that before?"

"S-sort of," Charles squealed, and Amos chuckled.

"Is that what you want?"

"Oh - I - " He took a deep breath.

What do I want?

"Yes, I want that." Badly.

Amos's grip on him tightened.

"All the time? Or simply in the bedroom?"

"Um..."

He liked to give up control during sex. But otherwise...wouldn't it be nice to have someone he could talk to? Spend time with? More like...equals.

Like this evening. Like dating.

Charles felt his mouth go dry. It was so difficult, what Amos was asking him to do, what he'd always asked and encouraged him to do.

To put his desires into words, and ask for what he wanted.

But when he had done it with this man in the past, it had felt so good...

Charles bit his lip. "Bedroom? Maybe?"

I love surrendering control for a while, falling into the arms of someone holding me up...but I need to be the one responsible for my own life.

For too long he'd thought the two were interchangeable, inseparable. Now he could embrace the duality of his desires - to become strong and independent, but still trusting and submissive.

He could be both. He could have both. 

And with Amos, he could share both with a partner who wanted him just that way.

When Amos shifted him on top of his lap, Charles bit back a moan. He'd grown half-hard while they were talking and not even noticed. The way the older man looked at him...

His eyes raking over him left the blond hot all over.

"Not maybe," the other man said calmly. "I need you to consider what you want and enunciate it. I know that's difficult, believe me, but - do you want me as a lover? As your dom? And if so - all the time, or solely in bed?"

Amos regarded him thoughtfully, waiting.

"You know, if you so desired...you could order me sometime. Or we could just date for a bit- without the power dynamics. I want to give you whatever you need, baby. Nothing is off the table. Let's talk."

"Don't you like...?"

"Sure I do. But there are plenty of things I like, and the most important thing to me now is finding the things we both enjoy."

"I like this. I trust you. I like - to just be able to float away sometimes when I'm with you... When I don't have to worry about anything, because I know you have me, and you won't let me fall. Just - just now and then."

"Do you want to tell me what to do sometime?"

"I'm... I don't know..."

"That's all right." He kissed his palm. "I want you to know that it's an option, baby boy. That we can talk about anything you want. That my goal is to make you happy."

"...I'm not a child. And I do know what I want, now."

Charles leaned forward and placed his hands on Amos's chest. He recalled that first thrilling moment in office behind the bar, when he had tried to seduce him. Tried, for the first time ever, to entice someone. And had been forced, in return, to voice his desires out loud.

This time, despite the nerves fluttering in his stomach and the way his palms grew damp, Charles resisted the urge to look away. He swallowed, throat clicking, and moved closer, staring into the older man's eyes.

"I want - " His breath hitched and he  stopped.

"I want you," he said, clearly and evenly, holding his gaze.

"A relationship with you. Only you - don't sleep with anyone else. Be with me. Be my lover, my boyfriend, yes my d-dom...my dominant, but only in bed.

"There, I want to give myself over to you entirely, but out here, I want us to be equals."

Taking a deep breath, he searched Amos's eyes. "I want to get to know you and let you get to know me. I want - I want - "

Charles sighed, head bowing. "I want so much," he admitted, and suddenly he felt self-conscious again.

It was greedy, wasn't it? Greedy and immodest to want so much, ask for so much, he couldn't possibly -

Strong arms came up to cradle his torso, to pull him back, flush against a broad, firm chest. Charles whimpered and wound his fingers into the fabric of Amos's shirt, reaching back and twisting to bury his face in it, embarrassed about what he'd admitted.

All his wantonness, all his ugly greed.

Difficult...shameless...

"I want to give you everything you desire."

Amos's voice was hoarse. "You have no idea how much I enjoy hearing you voice your needs, and then being able to grant your wishes. Seeing you happy and sated...seeing you bloom, gain courage, ask for more. It's enchanting.

"You're intoxicating, you make me..." He huffed, looking impossibly fond. "I should never have let you so close - I had no idea what it would do to me."

Pulling back to gaze down into Charles's face, he smiled.

"But I have no regrets. Yes, I'll be your lover. Yes, I'll be your boyfriend. And yes, I'll be your dom - and your equal, always. It's my absolute pleasure to fulfil each and every one of your requests."

Charles felt his joints give way and Amos steadied him as he almost fell on top of him, chuckling as the blond's face flushed bright pink with mortification.

Weak at the knees...honestly, Charles. Get a grip.

"There is so much I would like to offer you, baby..." Amos said, kissing the pad if Charles's thumb sticking out of the bandage around his palm and wrist.

"Do you want me on my knees before you?" He whispered it into his ear, kissing the other gauze-wrapped fingers, one after another.

"Do you want promises - ," kiss "praises - ," kiss "caresses...?"

"Oh," Charles gasped, head tipping back in his grasp, on his shoulder.

"Yes, oh, please. Amos. Amos."

"Whatever you want," that deep voice promised.

"I want you to...take care of me."

It came out as a whisper, a plea, still uncertain whether he was allowed to ask for things - ask for anything - instead of simply giving.

"Will you take care of me? I'll be so good for you..." he begged, babbled, and Amos pressed his lips to his temple in response.

"I know you will," he said, low and rumbling.

Then he leaned back, shifting Charles up onto his lap with a grip on his hips, back pressed against his chest, legs dangling on the outside of Amos's, feet not quite reaching the ground. 

He nuzzled into the side of his neck and the younger man twisted to kiss him, chasing his lips. With an indulgent smile, Amos pressed their mouths together, soft and tender, give and take. 

"I'll look after you..." he promised, but hands were still on Charles's hips, neither groping nor undressing him. 

"But first I want you to do something for me, sweetie."

"...Mhm?"

He kissed up the side of his neck, wet and open-mouthed, his hot tongue swiping over the bruises and making Charles shiver.

"Touch yourself. Lay back against me and show me what you like."

A small, embarrassing whine escaped his lips. The slighter man blushed.

I thought you would - 

"I know, I know. But right now I need to make sure that you feel safe and comfortable in my arms. After these last few days... What if I take over and you panic? First, I want to see this. Then, if you feel okay...we can escalate later tonight."

His hands finally moved in under Charles's shirt, stroking up and down his sides, over his ribs, over his sensitive stomach, just grazing the top of his pants. 

Charles could feel him behind him, underneath him, his powerful muscles shifting, his ribcage rising and falling, his steady heartbeat. 

When Amos covered his slender hands with his own larger ones and moved them up his own belly, placing the fingertips he'd kissed on top of the peaked nipples there, and the younger man inhaled sharply.

The candlelight was playing over them, dimmed spotlights still on in the kitchen, illuminating the space and them in it, and Charles was stone cold sober. 

"It's so embarrassing..." he pleaded, knowing that was an empty argument at this point, but helpless to keep from making it.

It felt more embarrassing to be unwrapped in candlelight in Amos's  home, on his couch, at the end of a real date. 

Not stripped in a frenzy in a back office or a dark bedroom, fuzzy and hot from drinks and sloppy kissing. 

As if he was someone...someone special, not a thing, not just a warm, willing body.

Charles didn't really know what to make of this feeling, the way the other man held him, touched him, spoke into his ear, with tenderness and adoration. 

It was one thing to know, finally realise, that he deserved someone who treated him better than Hunter had - it was another thing to truly believe it, deep down. It was another thing to be touched like this. 

Lightly, reverently - almost like he was being worshipped...

"Show me..." Amos whispered, palms along his sides leaving little sparks in their path, turning his skin hot and tingly.

He was still refusing to unbutton his pants, touch his chest, or acknowledge the straining bugle between the blond's legs, spread out by the older man's knees, held open. 

Amos reached up one hand and gently covered his eyes with it like a warm, heavy blindfold, leaving him feeling safe and cherished, unleashed. The darkness was comforting. Freeing. 

Like I could do anything...

At last, Charles's arousal overcame his embarrassment and he moved both hands at once, rubbing his nipples with one as he reached down the other to palm over the front of his trousers. Biting back a groan and pushing into Amos's hand over his face, he scrambled to work the zipper down and free himself. 

Arching his spine, the blond let out a small breathless moan and took himself in hand, working the skin slowly a few times - hearing the older man's breath hitch, taking it as a reward.

He traced his own hand up his cock from base to tip, bringing his fingers to his lips to wet them, surprised to feel Amos catch his hand in his. Rubbing it against his slightly rough cheek (already scratchy despite how recently he'd shaved), he then sucked Charles's fingers into his hot, silky mouth. 

Charles let his head loll back onto the older man's shoulder, shivering at the feel of his tongue running over his digits, between them, swiping over the tips. 

Cold air washing over them when Amos pulled back.

"Touch yourself," he said. "Let me see you, sweetie."

Moaning, Charles obeyed, wrapping his spit-slick hand back around his himself, stroking up and down, harder at his base and sweeping over the head, almost in a scooping motion. 

But it wasn't enough. 

"Fuh...mhm..." 

He could feel Amos underneath him. Hot, hard, solid body - Charles was draped over him, not one inch of him on the couch now, writhing and biting back little sighs and gasps.

Amos's firm thighs under him, broad chest burning into his back through their shirts, his thick length pressing against his backside, held in by his slacks - 

"Ahn, oh..."

The other man widened his legs, forcing the blond's further apart, exposing him even as he still covered his eyes, Charles's face pressed into the side of his neck, mouthing at the skin there and sighing helplessly into his ear.

He took his other hand and held it out, beseeching, knowing he wasn't allowed to do it himself - 

"Please, Amos, please - "

- And felt a hot tongue lap over them, soft lips sucking them in before releasing the no slick digits.

"May I - ? Oh, ngh, ah - "

"Yes," Amos almost growled. "Now."

Charles shoved his hand down past where he was frantically touching himself, shivering when he pressed against his tight, drawn-up balls, down between his spread cheeks...

"Ah!"

Amos had widened his own knees further, spreading the younger man obscenely apart, and Charles felt debauched despite still being mostly dressed, despite the other man not having touched the part of him that now ached, flushed and leaking, in his fist. 

The blond traced his own puckered rim, panting openly, now, biting his lip to keep his whines and breathless moans in. 

"Chase your own pleasure, baby... Let me see you surrender self-control, you will be so beautiful coming apart on top of me, with only my voice and your own hands..."

Charles whimpered, lost in the sensation of is hands, of the body he was writhing on top of. 

Throwing his head back, he felt Amos kiss the side of his neck with just a graze of teeth and a small keening noise escaped him, need to come coiling inside him, making his hips jerk and buck up into his fist - 

Just the knowledge that the other man was watching him, watching him fall apart, seeing him so wanton and selfish - 

"Ah, ah, ah - " he was gasping, couldn't hold back, forgetting why he should, why he should be embarrassed at all - 

He was doing whatever he wanted, but he was doing it because Amos told him to, he was putting on a show for him alone and the mere idea of that - 

"Hah, ngh, a-ah..."

With a deep moan he failed to choke back, face twisted around and pressed into the older man's neck, Charles came undone, spilling over his own hand and belly, twitching and shivering uncontrollably. 

For a while he just lay there, too groggy to do anything but let himself he petted and held. 

Amos got up eventually, bringing a damp towel to clean him up with, hushing Charles's faint protestations that he could do it himself.

"Let me."

Then he carried him to bed, which the younger man did not try to object to, partially because he was getting sleepy and partially because it felt so nice. Amos arranged him on top of the covers, folding himself around him like a big spoon, and draping a blanket over them.

"Nap for a bit," he told Charles, smiling when he felt the smaller man shift closer, snuggling into his embrace. 

"I ha - " he yawned, " - ven't done anything for you, Amos..."

"You did exactly what I asked you to. You were beautiful."

His arm around him tightened and he wound their fingers together, slender and thick, light and dark. 

"You asked me to take care of you. I felt like there were things you needed besides sex. Like food, rest, and comfort." 

Charles hummed, nuzzling his arm. Amos kissed his forehead. 

"Sleep, love."

He fell asleep drooling on Amos's sleeve, snuggled up close to his side, warm and safe.