“Do what, be what?” Yuri put his mobile aside and gave Angelo his full attention, spearing him with crystalline blue eyes. “You're. Not. Gay.”
“Um. I can hold your hand. In public.”
Yuri rolled his eyes. “Seriously? I can see you sweat from just the thought of it. What about the rest? Can you really kiss me in front of others? Pretend for the rest of your life to be in love with me? Do you have any clue what this'll mean? I don't think you do. You don't have to protect me. I'm fine. Francis was a huge mistake, but I'm fine. Go home to your college and your girlfriend and forget about me for a few years. I don't want this, you big idiot!”
Yuri was angry and impatient, that was clear enough, but under that, Angelo thought he sensed fear as well. And he caught the use of Angel. Yuri called him that so seldom he felt he could count the times on one hand, but tonight he'd used it twice.
“It doesn't matter what we want, does it, though? What if I say, 'Fine, go find some perfect guy to spank and fuck you. I'll see you in five years,' and then you fall in love? What're you going to do then? Break your heart and his? There's no way waiting will make things better, or easier. I can't… be everything you need and you're not what I want, either, but I can do my best to try. If it means I have to learn to kiss you, then I’ll learn to kiss you, but damn it, princess, I’m not going to let anyone hurt you like this anymore.”
Yuri crossed his arms over his chest. “I don't believe you. I don't think you have the stomach for it.”
Part of Angelo knew he was being goaded but he didn't care. He cupped Yuri's face and looked into eyes that were panicky, but something else as well. Yuri's gaze felt like it could bore holes into his soul. “Relax, princess. I can't do this if you won't relax.”
“Fuck me,” Yuri said. “This isn't real. And I didn't mean that literally. Don't get your straight-boy hopes up.”
“I wouldn't dream of it,” Angelo said, leaning closer to whisper in Yuri's ear. He dropped a light, experimental kiss on the side of Yuri's jaw. Under his fingers, the prince shuddered.
There. That hadn't been so bad. This would be easier than Angelo had thought. With his cupped hands, he positioned Yuri's face exactly where he wanted it, then kissed him. It was… unexpected. It wasn't at all the disgusting thing he'd thought it might be. This he could definitely do. Everything would be fine. And just to prove it, he kissed Yuri again. And again. And again. Because practice made perfect.
He ignored Yuri's ragged breathing and the noticeable bulge that rose in Yuri’s lap, completely unrestrained by pyjama bottoms. Those were things Angelo could worry about later, when he was sure Yuri was safe and in absolutely no danger.
Nearly a week after Yuri had been beaten by Francis, Angelo deemed Yuri strong enough to go out, but not without Angelo by his side.
“You'll have plenty of time to be independent on Monday, princess. Until then, you're stuck with me. I thought we could lay the foundation for couplehood. Coupledom?”
“Coupling,” Yuri suggested.
Angelo snorted. “Doesn't matter. Just hold my hand.”
He found, to his surprise, that holding a man's hand was less strange and unsettling than he'd expected it to be. He could feel that it wasn't a woman's hand. The fingers were long and had a powerful grip. The hand he held was nearly as large as his own. Still, it felt right, somehow. Like Yuri's hand was the one he was meant to hold. Maybe it was a leftover from when they were small children and the two of them had held hands all the time.
Yuri pulled his hand away. “You didn't melt or explode. That's probably a good sign. But holding my hand every time we're in public is just weird. Did you ever walk around with any of your women holding their hand constantly?”
“No,” Angelo admitted.
“Exactly. Don't over sell it.”
For some reason that ruffled Angelo's feathers but he couldn't figure out a logical reason why, so he shrugged it off. “Fine. I've got a tutorial in forty-five minutes. Are you going to be all right today?”
“I think I'll be able to survive on my own. I'll see you later?”
“Yeah, sure.” Feeling strangely adrift, Angelo walked back to his college. There was an ache in his chest that after much thought he decided was worry for Yuri. But he'd be fine. Yuri was right. There was no reason to be this concerned.
Angelo told himself he was going to leave Yuri alone, but when he didn't respond to a text Angelo sent before dinner, that worry-ache came back. Without consciously thinking about it, he found himself walking to St John's College.
Halfway there, he nearly turned around and went back to his dorm, but his mobile still showed that Yuri hadn't received his text, let alone responded to it. That was enough to keep his feet on their current course.
As he walked through the courtyard, a hand reached out of a dark shadow and snagged his arm.
Angelo wrested free. “What the fuck?” His pulse felt like it had sped up to triple time.
A figure stepped out of the shadows. It was Lord Dickface. Whatever his pretentious-ass name was. “A moment of your time,” he said.
“Sod off and be glad I don't beat the ever-loving shit out of you.”
The other man's face twisted with distaste. “How barbaric of you.”
“Barbaric? You've got to be joking. I saw what you did. I saw how you hurt him.”
“He asked for it. Every single blow. Every bruise. Don't let his angelic exterior fool you. Your so-called betrothed is a very naughty boy.”
Angelo grabbed the lapels of Lord Dickweed's suit coat and slammed him against a very sturdy stone
