Dean nodded, not breaking Riley's gaze as he moved toward him. “I’ll help if I can,” he said, giving him a lopsided, hopeful smile. He wanted the best for this bright, beautiful boy, but he didn’t know how much of it he could orchestrate himself. He had to let Riley figure things out on his own.
He laughed softly, curving his cheeks into Riley’s kisses.
Pulling back from the kiss, nuzzling his forehead against Riley’s, Dean lifted a hand to Riley’s arm. “I’ve got some raspberry jam somewhere,” he said. That slow, burning kiss had ignited a desire in him, but it felt better to just eat toast. It was weird now, after all. He felt too forceful, like he was taking advantage, regretting the way he’d been with the knowledge he had now. He didn’t know what Riley wanted from a lover. Surely what he wasn’t getting elsewhere. This sort of companionship, a nice, peaceful breakfast.
“You have anywhere to be today?” he asked conversationally. So long as Riley needed him, he wouldn’t be going anywhere. This felt more important than anything. A long, languid day seemed like the right thing now, unwinding, entwined. But if Riley had obligations then Dean wasn’t going to hold him hostage. If he was finer than Dean would have been if it were him. “I’ll be here,” he assured him. “Just do what you need to do.”
