and fear it at the same time. Part of him worried if they were intimate again, it would be obvious that Jackson was with him out of pity. Another part worried if his broken jaw would keep him from doing things Jackson liked, like oral sex. It was nice to be able to open his mouth to talk, but Day’s jaw ached all the time.
His phone vibrated on the bedside table. A snapchat from Wyatt and Charlie that showed an entire box of condoms spilled out over the bed next to an industrial sized bottle of lube. They’d scrawled ‘good luck’ across the bottom. They visited all the time.
In the beginning, it irritated Day that Jackson had spilled to the others that Day was afraid to be alone. As if a dozen people witnessing his assault in 1080p hadn’t been embarrassing enough, but then Charlie and Wyatt had showed up and brought Robby who was a pastor and Elijah who was a fucking movie star and they’d sat in a circle and shared their most intimate secrets with him. Robby’s and Wyatt’s abuse by their fathers, Elijah’s acting coach raping him when he was a child, Wyatt retelling his times at conversion therapy. Charlie talking about a photographer who’d taken things too far.
It bonded the five of them, made Day feel less like a victim when they would all come and sit with him whenever Jackson left. It was stupid to need protection from a ghost, and Carl was a ghost if Charlie and Wyatt were to be believed. His sweet, peaceful, level-headed Jackson had tossed the old man into an empty swimming pool. But once a month, Carl felt as alive as he ever was, sitting on Day’s shoulder and telling him the life he was growing to love was temporary. Day had told Linc about it the first time he’d sat beside him on Jackson’s sofa and just watched old movies when it was his turn to babysit Day. Linc told Day about his PTSD. How the brain fights to protect itself in weird ways. How there was nothing wrong with therapy. He’d promised not to tell Jackson about Carl, and it seemed he never had.
There was a soft knock at the door, and then Jackson was peeking around the corner. Day’s heart swooped at the sight of him. It always did. As always, Jackson dressed more for the runway than the boardroom, wearing dark jeans and a snow white sweater that made his dark skin radiant. Day didn’t sit up, just held up his arms. He wasn’t giving Jackson any reason to leave this bed.
Jackson flashed Day that panty-dropping grin before closing the door and crossing the room. He knelt on the floor beside him, wrapping his arms around Day, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Hey, beautiful.”
“Hi, Daddy,” Day purred.
Jackson’s brow arched, and his mouth curled upwards. “You haven’t called me that in a while.”
“We haven’t been alone in a while,” Day countered, sitting up enough to capture Jackson’s lips with a moan.
Jackson deepened the kiss immediately, sending Day’s pulse fluttering, his cock hardening as Jackson slipped his tongue inside to slide over Day’s in a way that made him whimper. “Fuck, I’ve missed you,” Jackson whispered against Day’s lips.
“Me too. So much,” Day promised, trying to pull Jackson up onto the bed beside him. “Fuck me?”
Jackson chuckled. “You know my mom is in the kitchen, right?”
“And I’m right here,” Day whined. “We haven’t had sex since before the…since before. I finally feel good. I want you to make me feel better. Please?” Day pouted. He could see Jackson wavering. “Please, Daddy?”
“You’re such a little tease,” Jackson said. Day fist pumped in victory, but then Jackson was standing up and pulling Day to his feet. “Did you get your reading done today?”
Day groaned. His reading. His reading was molasses slow but with all the aids his neuropsychologist gave him, he was making progress. “Yes, Daddy.”
Jackson swept his thumbs over Day’s cheeks. “Did you take your pills?”
Day was on an antidepressant and a daily anti-anxiety medication. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Did you have your appointment with your therapist yesterday?”
Day rolled his eyes. Jackson knew Day had gone to his therapy appointment. They’d talked about it last night. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Okay, but I draw the line at boning in my mom’s house. Let’s go home.”
“Fine, but you better rock my fucking world,” he griped. “I’m already packed.”
Jackson snagged Day when he was almost to the door, spinning him around and backing