Make Me Soar by KC Wells Page B

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    “I’m going to suggest that you go to bed. You look exhausted, and a good night’s sleep is just what you need.” Alan rose to his feet, glancing at the clock on the wall. “It’s late, anyway.”
    Dorian blinked and then got to his feet. “Okay.”
    He gave Alan a searching look and then entered his bedroom, leaving the door open behind him. Alan regarded it with interest. He waited a minute or two before going into the bedroom. Dorian lay under his duvet, the only light in the room from a lamp beside the bed. He lay on his side facing Alan, his arms wrapped around his pillow, his upper body bare in the warm glow.
    Alan smiled. “Sleep well, lad.”
    “Please!”
    The sudden entreaty stopped him as he turned to leave. Dorian stared at him, eyes wide, his face pale.
    “What is it?” Alan moved closer. Dorian was shivering. Alan perched on the side of the bed. “What’s the matter?” He laid his hand on the duvet.
    Dorian let go of the pillow and fastened his hand around Alan’s wrist. “Don’t… don’t leave me, please.” He swallowed. “I-I don’t want to be alone, all right?”
    One look at that tortured expression was all Alan could stand.
    “Do you want me to sleep in here tonight?”
    The relief that swept across Dorian’s face had Alan’s throat tightening in seconds.
    “Yes, please.”
    Alan stood up and unbuttoned the heavy brushed cotton shirt, slipping it off his shoulders. He undressed down to his boxers and then lifted the duvet, noting that Dorian was similarly attired. Dorian didn’t say a word but watched him, eyes still wide and haunted. Alan climbed into the double bed and lay down beside Dorian. The urge to pull the young man into his arms was tremendous, but he waited, letting Dorian lead the way.
    Dorian gave a shudder and then exhaled, his breath shaky. “Thank you.” His eyes shone in the lamplight. “I couldn’t face….”
    Alan nodded. “It’s okay. I understand. Now try to sleep, eh?”
    Dorian gave him a weak smile, then reached across and switched off the lamp, plunging the room into near darkness.
    Alan lay still, listening to the by now familiar sound of Dorian’s breathing as he drifted off. The speed with which he fell asleep gave Alan some comfort—and something else.
    He needed me .
    The thought stopped him cold.
    When was the last time someone needed me like that?
    And swift on the heels of that thought came another.
    Damn, it feels so good to be needed .

Seven

     
    A LAN LEFT Dorian sleeping and eased himself carefully out of the bed. Dorian lay on his belly, head turned to one side, his face calm, his brow untroubled. Alan hoped to God it had been a night of unbroken sleep for him. He pulled on his jeans and padded barefoot out of the bedroom and into the kitchen to put the coffee on. There was a definite nip in the air, and he went over to the thermostat to turn up the temperature. Any thoughts that it would be a mild end to winter had vanished. The color of the sky held the threat of snow.
    The coffee machine on, Alan went back into the lounge to root through his overnight bag for the sweater he knew was in there. When his searching fingers encountered the thick pair of socks, he sent Leo a silent message of gratitude. The man had thought of everything.
    Alan stood by the lounge window, feeling a little warmer as he gazed down at the river. There were a few mad souls out there jogging along the paths that ran alongside the riverbank. Alan shook his head at the sight.
    Give me a swim in a heated pool any day .
    The thought served as a reminder. He hadn’t been for a swim in nearly five days. Three times a week he swam thirty-two lengths of the Olympic-sized pool at the Manchester Aquatics Centre, a distance which equated to roughly a mile. It was enough to keep him fit, combined with the weights he kept at home in his cellar, which he’d turned into a home gym.
    He threw a glance toward Dorian’s bedroom. The previous night’s breakthrough