Chapter 12: Cracks in the Glass
The days had started to blur.
Mornings in the office. Quick glances, coded smiles, tension tight like piano wire stretched across polished desks.
Nights in Elliot's bed — or against his windows, or bound across his dining table.
There was no one else.
Not for Julian. Not for Elliot.
But fear doesn't wait for proof.
It festers in silence.
---
It started small.
A partner's assistant flirted with Julian in the hallway — harmless. He laughed it off, polite, effortless, the way Julian always was.
Elliot saw it.
And said nothing.
But that night, when Julian arrived at the penthouse, Elliot's voice was colder.
"Strip. Now."
Julian blinked, surprised. "You okay?"
Elliot didn't answer. He just reached for the rope.
He tied Julian faster. Rougher. Not without care, but without the same reverence.
"Color?" he asked, low.
Julian hesitated. "Green."
But it wasn't the same. Not tonight.
Elliot's hands moved possessively. His mouth was punishing. He whispered things that weren't part of the game — things with teeth.
"You think he could touch you like this?"
"You think he'd know what to do with someone like you?"
"Say you're mine."
Julian trembled, unsure if it was from arousal or something deeper.
"I'm yours," he whispered. "I'm only ever yours."
But even after they collapsed into the sheets, sweat-soaked and gasping, the words didn't soothe.
Elliot didn't sleep that night.
He lay awake beside Julian, watching the red lines he'd left across his skin — beautiful and brutal. His.
But for the first time, the thought crept in like smoke:
What if he wasn't? What if Julian left?
He had options. Charm. Youth. A career of his own. He could disappear with a smile and never look back.
Elliot had no idea how to stop him — except to grip harder. Claim harder.
And that scared him more than anything.
---
Julian woke to Elliot already dressed, staring out the window, jaw tight.
"Did I do something wrong?" Julian asked quietly.
Elliot didn't turn. "No."
"Then why do I feel like you're pushing me away after pulling me apart?"
Silence.
Then:
"I saw the way you smiled at him."
Julian sat up, heart sinking. "You mean Liam? He asked where the espresso pods were."
Elliot turned, finally. "You flirt without meaning to."
Julian frowned. "And you think that means I want someone else?"
"I think it means you could have someone else. Easily."
Julian stood, crossed the room, and touched Elliot's face gently. "I could. But I don't want anyone else."
Elliot's jaw clenched. "I'm not used to needing anyone."
Julian's thumb brushed across his cheek. "That makes two of us."
Their kiss was different this time — slower, aching, as if trying to memorize each other in case it all fell apart.
Because they both knew:
Obsession could bring them closer.
Or it could destroy them.
And the line between the two was razor-thin.