EX-Factor II

“And here I was feeling special.” Evan chuckled nervously, slurping a spoonful of the broth.

Daniel's gaze lingered on Evan a little too long before he responded, “You are special.”

“Mm…sure.” Evan added, staring down at his soup like it was the most interesting thing in the world. “You didn’t answer my question though. Why did you invite me here?”

“Finish your dinner first.”

Daniel watched him until Evan shifted uncomfortably on the stool.

“I meant what I said earlier,” Daniel continued at last. “You were humiliated. Nobody should walk away from that without a place to go. You deserved better.”

“From Liam?” Evan asked, trying to sound casual, though his voice cracked on the name.

Daniel’s jaw flexed. “From everyone.”

Silence settled between them, broken only by the rain and the clink of their spoons against the bowls.

Evan set his spoon down, pushing the soup away though he’d barely eaten half. “You don’t have to sugarcoat it. I know you think I’m pathetic. Showing up here. Staying in your house like—like some stray.”

“Is that what you think?” Daniel’s voice dropped, low and steady. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the island, close enough that Evan could see the faint scars across his knuckles, the gray flecks in his stubble. “Because that’s not what I see.”

Evan swallowed hard, his skin prickling with heat despite the storm outside. “Then what do you see?”

Daniel held his gaze, unblinking. “A boy who gave too much of himself to someone who didn’t know what to do with it.” His mouth curved, the faintest suggestion of a smile. “And someone I’d rather not watch keep drowning.”

Evan’s throat tightened at Daniel’s words. He wanted to scoff, deflect, make a joke—but his body betrayed him. Heat spread down his chest, pooling in his stomach, making him all too aware of how close Daniel was leaning.

“That’s… a heavy thing to say,” Evan murmured, fingers drumming nervously against the counter.

Daniel didn’t move back. “It’s the truth.”

Evan’s pulse thudded in his ears. He couldn’t look away, not from the steady intensity in Daniel’s eyes, not from the way the man’s hand curled loosely around his spoon, knuckles shifting beneath taut skin. He remembered Liam’s hands—soft, restless, always fidgeting. Daniel’s were nothing like his son’s. They were certain, grounded, mature.

He licked his lips. “You sound like you’ve been watching me.”

Daniel tilted his head. “Maybe I have.”

The air between them thickened. Evan let out a shaky laugh, more from nerves than humor, and shoved back from the stool. “I should… I should go to bed, or—”

Daniel’s hand came down gently on his wrist, halting him. It was warm, solid, commanding without force. So, Evan froze.

“You’re shaking again,” Daniel said quietly. “Still cold?”

Evan’s breath caught. His skin burned beneath Daniel’s touch, the storm outside roaring in tandem with the storm inside him. “I’m fine,” he lied.

Daniel’s thumb brushed over the inside of his wrist, lingering. “No,” he murmured. “You’re not.”

Evan’s knees felt weak. Every instinct screamed to pull away, but he didn’t. He stood there, caught in Daniel’s gaze, chest heaving like he’d just run a mile.

“Daniel…” His own voice startled him—thin, hushed, almost pleading.

Daniel rose from his stool, closing the last inch of space between them. His height, his presence, filled the kitchen. For a suspended moment, nothing happened. Just the steady drum of rain, the scent of soup and sandalwood, the heat of Daniel’s body so close it was dizzying.

Then Daniel lifted his hand, slowly, giving Evan every chance to step back. His fingers brushed damp curls from Evan’s forehead, trailing down the side of his face. Evan’s eyes fluttered shut at the contact.

“You asked why I invited you here,” Daniel murmured, his breath warm against Evan’s temple. “This is why.”

Evan’s stomach flipped violently, guilt and desire tangling into a knot that made him ache. He opened his mouth to answer, but Daniel’s thumb pressed lightly against his bottom lip, silencing him.

Evan’s breath hitched as Daniel hovered there, so close his lips almost brushed his. Every part of him screamed that this was wrong— He was Liam’s father, for fucks sake.

But he didn’t move. He didn’t pull away.

Daniel’s thumb pressed more firmly against Evan’s lip, coaxing it open. When Evan exhaled, Daniel finally closed the distance, capturing his mouth in a kiss that was slow and deliberate at first, as though he was testing how far Evan would let him go.

Evan didn't stop him instead, he moaned into him and suddenly Daniel’s hand was cupping the back of his neck, holding him still as the kiss deepened. His mouth was warm, commanding, tasting faintly of broth and wine. Nothing like Liam’s frantic, sloppy kisses. It was different.

Evan gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles whitening as Daniel’s tongue slid against his, coaxing and teasing until his knees nearly buckled.

Daniel pulled back just long enough to murmur, “Tell me to stop.”

Evan shook his head before he could think. “Don’t…don't stop.”

That was all Daniel needed to hear.

He lifted Evan effortlessly by the hips, setting him on the counter. Evan gasped at the sudden height, thighs parting instinctively as Daniel stepped between them. His hands slid up Evan’s thighs, over the borrowed sweatpants, slow enough to make his skin crawl with need.

Evan clutched at Daniel’s shirt, tugging him closer. “God… what are we doing?”

Daniel kissed down the line of his jaw, his stubble scraping deliciously against his sensitive skin. “Something inevitable,” he whispered against his throat.

Evan arched into him, the heat pooling low in his stomach, his breath breaking as Daniel’s hands slipped beneath the hem of his sweatshirt. Rough palms grazed his ribs, dragging upward until Evan shivered, goosebumps rising across his chest.

Daniel’s mouth claimed his again, hungrier this time, teeth grazing his bottom lip. Evan whimpered into him, hips shifting forward, desperate for more contact.

“You feel that?” Daniel growled against his mouth, pressing closer, letting Evan feel the unmistakable hardness straining against his pants. “That’s what you do to me.”

Evan moaned, fingers curling tight in Daniel’s shirt, pulling until the fabric stretched. He wanted more—he wanted the shirt gone, the space between them obliterated.

Daniel obliged, tugging the sweatshirt over Evan’s head in one swift motion, followed by his. He tossed it carelessly aside, eyes raking over Evan’s bare chest. His gaze was so intense it made Evan flush deep red.

“Beautiful,” Daniel murmured, voice thick. “He never deserved you.”