created for the blind that would read to him. Then his headphones became an annoyance, and his friends would ask why he didn’t just go to one of those literacy schools for adults instead of cheating the system, as if Day had just never bothered to learn to read. He used to try to explain his disorder, that he had a severe form of dyslexia and dyscalculia. That it wasn’t just a matter of learning to read but how his brain processed what he did read. That he still had a stutter when he was flustered or embarrassed. The support would eventually turn to annoyance and disbelief. But that usually took months. That’s why Day didn’t give people months. He didn’t give anybody anything. It just wasn’t worth the effort.
But Jackson was a different story. For some reason, the thought of somebody like Jackson belittling him or growing frustrated with him hurt far worse than the memory of anybody who’d made it past his walls in the past. Jackson was patient and kind and stable and hot and sexy and made Day’s whole body quake with need.
Jackson wasn’t like the guys Day had met when he and Sarah had run away all those years ago. Jackson was so far out of Day’s league that they weren’t even breathing the same air, and watching Jackson come to that realization would be more pain than it was worth. Day shook his head. He’d known Jackson for two days and he was worried about what he’d think of him? He was pathetic. It was just because he was the first guy with his shit together who’d ever shown an interest in Day. That had to be it. It didn’t matter anyway. In just a few weeks, this stupid investigation would be over and Day could go back to his lonely little life and Jackson could meet some rich business tycoon and forget Day existed. At least Day had their tape to watch.
Which brought Day back to the task at hand. He hit a button, and the computerized male voice informed him that he had several comments on his latest video and almost two hundred dollars in tips. He smiled. He’d known his audience would love it. It had taken Day twice the usual time to edit and upload last night because he’d stopped to jerk off. Every whine, whimper, and moan Day made while Jackson fingered him on the tape had driven him to distraction until he’d had no choice but to get himself off.
Day closed his eyes and hit the button for the first comment, knowing the software would continue to read the messages one right after the other.
PYT8014: So hot. You two were hot like lava.
Hawt4U: Who’s your new man?
Pattycake21: Yum. More please.
DTFU09: Did he win the contest? Is it over? Do we get to watch him fuck you?
Hawt4U: Yes. Please? We want to see you take that huge cock.
Ken4Ken: So pretty.
DannysDaddy666: whore whore whore whore whore whore whore whore whore whore whore whore whore whore wh—
Day pulled his earbuds from his ears and threw them on the side table before slamming his finger down on the spacebar to stop the voice from reading. His heart slammed against his ribs hard enough to make him feel lightheaded, his face burning with humiliation. He pushed his laptop away with shaking hands.
“Day, dinner’s ready,” Jackson said, leaning into Day’s doorway.
“O-Okay,” he managed, his tongue tripping over the word.
Jackson frowned. “You’re white as a sheet. What’s wrong? What happened?”
Day just shook his head. “No-Nothing. I’m f-f-f—” He huffed out a noise of frustration as his brain caught on the ‘f,’ causing the sound to go on for too long. “Fine,” he finally ground out.
Jackson came to sit on the edge of the bed, resting his hand gently on Day’s knee. “You’re clearly not fine. What’s happening? Did somebody upset you?”
Day could barely think past the heat of Jackson’s hand on his thigh, as comforting as it was distracting. He didn’t want to tell Jackson what it said. It was just a word. It came with the territory. It wasn’t the first time somebody had called him a whore, and it wouldn’t be the last. He should have just lied, but when he looked at Jackson and his big brown eyes filled with what looked like genuine concern, Day could only pick up his laptop and hand it to him.
“Do you know this guy?” Jackson asked, voice full of gravel, like he was trying to