Love is Always Write Anthology Bonus Volume

too. Sebastian climbed onto the bed and looped his arm around Daren to hold him close. He seemed on the edge of another crying jag.
    Daren didn't cry, however. He just leaned into Sebastian and stared into space. "I've sort of fucked up your life, haven't I?" Daren whispered, not shifting his gaze away from a blank bit of wall.
    "The minivan that hit a patch of black ice, spun out and hit my mother, that fucked up my life. You have… added some interesting dimensions to it."
    "I really don't have anyone else to go to any more. There is no one who would keep me safe, keep things secret. I am dead to everyone."
    "What am I, chopped liver?"
    Daren looked up at him. "No."
    "Good, because I've put a lot of effort into you, and I'm not letting you go or letting anyone get to you anytime soon."
    Sebastian watched as the emotions flicked across Daren's face faster than he could catch them. He spotted, confusion, worry, fear, mixed in with relief. "Thank you."
    "You're welcome."
    Daren looked away again. This time he seemed intent on studying the weave of the blanket lying over his lap.
    Sebastian let his own mind wander. He was going to really have to start thinking long-term now. They had money, but there was going to be questions about where it came from. And he couldn't duck Jimmy, Ty, and Rachael forever. The more people who knew you had a secret, the more chance that it was going to get out, and while Jimmy wasn't malicious, he was a chatty drunk. And Ty was a pop-culture sponge; he'd recognize Daren in two seconds flat.
    Then there was Daren himself. For now his movement was still restricted, but his knee would heal eventually, and then what? He couldn't live his life as a shut-in. He was nineteen, he'd go stir crazy. The best option Sebastian could figure was that they needed to get out of town, way out of town, out-of-the-country out of town. That brought back the problem of recognition, fake passports, post-9/11 facial checks at airports.
    Sebastian's thoughts slid to a halt as he became aware of Daren's hand on his leg. It was his good left hand, and it was sliding along his jean-covered thigh. It was shaking, but with each move there seemed greater boldness. Daren still had his face turned away. Daren's fingers began to edge their way over the fly of his jeans.
    "What are you doing?" Okay, that was fairly obvious, and the better question would have been why Daren was doing what he was doing. Though Sebastian could already feel his body not caring about the answer.
    Daren didn't answer. His body curled up even as his hand became bolder. Hating himself just a little, Sebastian picked up Daren's hand and moved it to a safer area. Daren looked up at him. There was determination in his face but fear in his eyes. "Whatever it is you think you're doing, stop. For both our sakes."
    "You're…" Daren stumbled before he even got to the second word. "I don't…
    Sebastian placed Daren's hand back in his own lap while trying not to be insulted. The last thing he needed was Daren thinking he needed to sexually buy his safety or his place in Sebastian's life. He also didn't needed Daren jumping into some sort of forced, post-death, sexual experimentation.
    "You're still getting over a shock to the system. Why don't you just rest for the rest of the day?"
    Daren's face flushed bright red but he nodded and slid down into bed again. Sebastian put a kiss on the top of his head that he hoped would come across as fraternal or platonic. "I'm going to do some laundry. Call out if you need anything, okay?"
    Daren didn't 'call out' for the rest of the day. The few times Sebastian popped in to deliver more Tylenol, he was either asleep or staring blankly at a bit of wall or the ceiling, leaving Sebastian at a complete loss as to what to say.
    Sebastian had come in to wake Daren for dinner after managing to read the baking instructions on some marinated chicken breasts. Daren was asleep and seemed to be peaceful. It would be another fifteen minutes before the chicken was done, so instead Sebastian sat in the chair and just watched Daren sleep, the way he had that first week.
    It seemed like those days were months ago instead of just a handful of weeks. He couldn't picture Daren simply striking off on his own one day, anymore. And as much as he had sort of expected it to happen, he didn't really want to see him go back to being Gerald Delaware, underage party boy. Daren was too smart to waste his life like that, and Sebastian had a feeling