Chapter 12
The night air was cold when Franklin stepped outside. Guests and crew were filing out, cars pulling away from the lot one by one. He checked his phone again — still no response from Mason.
"Need a ride?" Isabelle's voice came from behind him. She was sliding on a coat, her driver waiting with the door open.
Franklin smiled, polite but firm. "Thanks, but no. My assistant's almost here."
"You sure?" She tilted her head.
"Positive. Go on, you've had a long day too."
She gave him a look that said she didn't quite believe him, but she only shrugged. "Alright then. Don't freeze."
He watched her slip into the car and waved as she pulled off. The lot grew emptier, the chill sharper. Franklin dialed Mason again, pacing as he listened to the ring cut off. Then nothing.
"Want me to give you a ride?"
The voice behind him made him turn. Noah stood there, coat over his arm, his expression unreadable but his tone almost casual.
Franklin gave a quick shake of his head. "No, it's fine. My assistant should be here any minute."
Noah's brow arched slightly. "Isn't that what you told Isabelle? And he's still not here."
Franklin laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, well… he's usually on time."
A faint smile curved Noah's mouth, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Fine. But at least come with me. You can wait in my office. That way you won't freeze standing out here."
Franklin hesitated, glancing again at the road. No headlights. No Mason.
Finally, he exhaled and nodded. "Alright."
Noah gestured for him to follow, and together they crossed the lot. Franklin shoved his hands into his pockets, trying not to feel like every step deeper into Noah's orbit was a step into something he wasn't ready to name.
----
Inside Noah's office, the warmth was immediate. He moved with quiet ease, setting two mugs on the desk.
"Hot cocoa?"
Franklin blinked, surprised. "Sure."
He accepted the cup and took a cautious sip. Sweet, rich, comforting. His eyes widened. "Wow. This is good."
"Made it myself," Noah said, taking his own seat beside him.
Franklin stared at him over the rim of the mug. "Like… the whole thing?"
"Mm." Noah sipped. "I make my own powder."
Franklin chuckled, shaking his head. "I never thought someone like you would be making—"
"Someone like me?" Noah interrupted, one brow lifting. "What's wrong with me?"
Franklin coughed. "Nothing. It's just… surprising."
Noah's smile curved, unreadable. He leaned closer, his presence filling the space between them.
Franklin's phone buzzed on the table. He reached for it quickly, and in the motion, his hand bumped Noah's cup. Cocoa spilled onto Noah's shirt.
"I'm so sorry!" Franklin scrambled, grabbing tissues to dab at the fabric.
Noah's hand caught his wrist, halting him. "It's fine." "That was hot — aren't you burned?" Franklin said in a little panicked voice.
"That was—" Franklin started, but froze under the intensity of Noah's gaze.
Noah didn't let go. Their hands stayed linked, his grip warm. Slowly, Noah leaned in, his breath brushing Franklin's lips. Franklin's body stilled, his phone buzzing again on the table, forgotten.
Just when their mouths were a breath apart, Noah stopped. "You should get that," he murmured against his lips.
It was like being snapped awake. Franklin jerked back, fumbling for his phone. "Y-yeah." He answered without looking. "Mason, are you here?"
A pause. Then a voice he hadn't expected.
"I'm outside."
Franklin's blood ran cold. Damien.
He pulled the phone back, staring at the caller ID. His chest tightened.
Noah rose, retrieving the cups with unhurried calm. "Was that your assistant?"
"Y-yeah," Franklin lied, forcing a nod.
"Mm." Noah leaned against the desk, smiling faintly.
"Thanks… for the cocoa" Franklin said, standing too quickly.
"You're welcome." Noah's voice was smooth, almost amused.
Franklin turned for the door, fumbling with the handle. He tugged until Noah said quietly, "Pull."
"Oh." Franklin laughed awkwardly, pulling it open at last. "Right. Bye."
He slipped out before Noah could say more.
Alone, Noah smirked, strolling to the window. Outside, a sleek black car waited at the curb. Franklin hurried inside, the door shutting behind him before the car pulled away.
Noah's smirk deepened. "You can't hide forever," he murmured. A pause. Then, softly, with a trace of venom—
"Cousin."
-----
The drive home was quiet. Damien sat beside him, scrolling through his phone, his expression unreadable in the glow of the screen. Franklin stared out the window, mind tangled.
What was he doing here?
His thoughts shifted, unbidden, to what had happened with Noah — his face so close, his breath brushing his lips. Franklin's chest tightened. Guilt burned low in his stomach.
His phone buzzed in his lap, jolting him. Mason.
"I'm here," Mason said the moment Franklin answered.
"There's no need," Franklin cut in quickly, glancing at Damien's reflection in the dark window. "You can turn back. I already left."
"Wait, what—" Mason started, but Franklin hung up before he could continue.
He shoved the phone back into his pocket, eyes flicking to Damien. He hadn't seen him in weeks. Damien was wearing a dark suit, tie loosened, looking like he had just stepped out of another world.
What perfect timing, Franklin thought bitterly.
The car rolled through the gates and stopped. A guard opened the door for them. Damien stepped out first, never sparing him a word. Franklin followed, eyes on Damien's broad back as they entered the house.
Part of him felt sick with guilt. He had almost kissed another man.
After a quick shower, Franklin returned to the room, only to find it empty. Unease stirred. He padded down the hall, bare feet silent on the floor, until he reached the study.
He leaned in, peeking — but Damien wasn't there.
When he turned, Damien was. Standing in the doorway, watching him.
Franklin's breath caught. "I—"
Before he could finish, Damien's hand closed around his wrist. He dragged him inside with quiet force, shutting the door behind them. In one motion, Damien lifted him, setting him onto the desk. Franklin yelped, startled, but the sound was swallowed by Damien's mouth on his.
The kiss wasn't rough. Not this time. It was slow, to deliberate, his hand sliding under the loose fabric of Franklin's pajamas. Franklin's eyes fluttered, body responding despite the storm in his chest. His arms wrapped around Damien's neck, pulling him closer.
When Damien's lips trailed to his throat, a soft moan escaped before Franklin could bite it back. His head tilted instinctively, giving more.
The phone on the desk rang, loud and shrill. Damien didn't stop.
It rang longer.
With one hand, Damien pressed a button, still kissing him. His voice was rough, low. "If it's not important—"
"Your father," Dan's voice came through. "He says he'd like to speak with you."
Damien's mouth stilled against Franklin's neck. His jaw tightened.
"Tell him I'm busy."
He ended the call without another word.
Then his attention snapped back to Franklin. His hands tugged at the thin fabric of his pajamas, peeling them away with aching slowness. Franklin's body trembled under his touch, every nerve alive.
But Damien wasn't rushing. Not conquering. He moved gently, as though memorizing every inch. His lips mapped his skin with care, his hands tracing as though Franklin might slip away if he didn't mark every line.
Franklin's breath shuddered, his fingers clutching at Damien's loosened tie. This wasn't the roughness he had braced for. This was something else. Something that made his chest ache as much as it burned.
"Dami…" His voice cracked around the name.
Damien pressed his forehead to Franklin's, breathing him in. His hand cradled the back of his neck, thumb stroking slowly. His lips brushed his again, soft, lingering.
Damien silenced him with another kiss, tender and unhurried. When he finally pulled back, his words were a low murmur against Franklin's skin.
"Frank..." His voice hoarse
And Franklin, guilt and longing warring inside him, gave in to the gentleness he had never known from him before.