Lucien and Gabriel rushed out of their seats and over to the distressed sub. Milo crouched to the floor, looking unfocused at the mess around him. Tears gathered in his eyes, and Lucien’s chest constricted. He wanted to hold the sub, comfort him and tell him that it would be okay—that he would take care of everything.

Shards of glass lay precariously around Milo’s feet. His pants, along with much of the floor and cabinetry, were drenched in fine-quality scotch whiskey. “I’m sorry!” he said, a sob caught in his throat. “I’ll p-pay for it.”

His hands trembled as he reached for the broken glass, trying desperately to clean the mess. Before Lucien could reach for him, Milo sliced a finger on one of the jagged pieces. He winced and held his wounded hand to his chest. Gabe quickly retrieved the stash of towels from beneath the bar, and Lucien grabbed one. Then he crouched beside Milo.

Lucien gently took Milo’s hand and pressed the towel against the cut. “That won’t be necessary,” he said, before Gabe could respond to Milo. “This is nothing. Gabe wouldn’t have you pay for it, and I wouldn’t let him even if he tried. We’ll take care of it.”

“This is nothing?” Beneath his glasses lenses, Milo’s silver-gray eyes shone with unshed tears as he locked them onto Lucien. “This is half my rent! It’s more than Alice’s glasses or a month’s worth of groceries!”

Lucien stilled, completely taken aback. He looked to Gabe, who stopped sweeping the pieces of glass away with the towels. Gabe’s expression was filled with compassion and sympathy as he looked at Milo.

“Milo,” Gabe said, even-toned and with authority—at which Milo visibly relaxed, turning his attention to the club’s master dom. “You don’t need to worry about this. The business will cover the expense. These things happen.”

Milo nodded, a few tears escaping down his cheeks. The daze caused by his overwhelmed state seemed to lift somewhat. Then he looked back at Lucien.

“I’m sorry, sir,” he said, lowering his eyes. “I didn’t mean to… to talk back like that.”

“No need to apologize. I was being insensitive. Will you allow me to help you get cleaned up? And get this bandaged?” Lucien asked, still holding the towel to Milo’s finger.

Milo’s gaze darted to Gabriel, but Lucien missed their silent exchange as he continued to focus on Milo. Then Milo nodded, and Lucien was relieved to see the blush reappear. Lucien stood, gently pulling Milo up with him.

“There’s a first aid kit in the staff room,” Gabe said.

“Alright, let’s get you there,” Lucien said, looking down at Milo.

“I can hold this.” Milo took hold of the towel.

Lucien allowed it, but he wouldn’t let go of Milo completely. He put his hands on Milo’s slim shoulders and guided him out from behind the bar. Milo didn’t protest the gesture. In fact, Lucien felt the tension ease beneath his firm grip, as if Lucien were helping to ground him—and Lucien was both thrilled and relieved that Milo was responding in this way to him, especially since his earlier careless remark had further distressed him. Lucien would try not to make that mistake again.

He was innately aware of his affluence, but he’d hardly ever been called out on how out of touch he could be. Milo’s retort, which provided a little insight into his life, had Lucien wanting to know more about the young man. His protectiveness and drive to solve problems reared within the back of Lucien’s mind.

The lounge had gone silent after the crash but had since resumed its usual activity. Still, Lucien used his larger bulk to buffet any lingering attention on Milo. They exited through the door leading out to the hallway.

“I’m alright to walk on my own,” Milo said softly, but made no attempt to shrug Lucien away.

“Would you like me to give you more space?”

Milo was quiet for a moment, but just before Lucien was about to let go, he shook his head. “No.”

Lucien smiled and took Milo the rest of the way to the staff room, feeling the warmth where they touched and taking in every second of it.

The room was empty when they entered, and Lucien led Milo to a bench in front of the lockers. “Now, where is that first aid kit?” he asked.

Milo sat and pointed to the white metal cabinet mounted on the wall, the red circled cross indicating its contents. After pulling out one of the portable boxes inside, Lucien brought it over to Milo and sat beside him.

“Let’s have a look,” Lucien said, taking Milo’s hand and slowly pulling the towel away.

Fortunately, the cut wasn’t deep, and the bleeding had already slowed considerably. Milo winced when Lucien applied the antiseptic as gently as he could; of course, with the amount of alcohol saturating everything, it might not have been necessary. Milo’s eyes closed, and with his free hand, he pushed his glasses up by the nose bridge. It was a cute gesture, and Lucien wondered how often he did it.

“Thank you,” Milo said.

“You’re quite welcome. But I do suppose I am to blame for what happened,” Lucien said, looking closely for any glass fragments in the wound.

Milo’s brow furrowed in confusion for a moment, then Lucien watched as his eyes widened in remembrance. Lucien let the silence linger between them for a moment as the blush deepened over Milo’s face, even up to his ears. He shifted where he sat, but Lucien continued with the first aid, completely calm and collected.

“I am interested in you, by the way,” Lucien said, rubbing ointment over the cut slowly and thoroughly. “You deserve to hear it from me plainly and directly.”

Milo opened his mouth, then closed it again, which only brought attention to how lush and kissable his lips were. Milo swallowed, his slender neck making his Adam’s apple distinct.

“Even now?” Milo finally said. “After you’ve seen what a huge mess I am?”

Lucien wanted to tell him that he could fix everything, whatever burdens he had. But Lucien kept that desire to himself. Within Milo’s expressive eyes, he looked so unsure, disbelieving, and about one second away from bolting. Lucien tightened his hold on Milo’s hand as he bandaged it.

“Yes,” Lucien said, emphatically. “Even now, I’m very interested.”

In a burst, the staff room door seemed to explode inward, barely staying on its hinges as it let in a very concerned Danny.

Milo pulled his hand, now fully patched up and bandaged, out of Lucien’s grasp. “Thank you,” Milo said, almost too low to hear. And whether it was gratitude for the first aid or that Lucien was still interested and quite smitten, Lucien didn’t know.

“Oh, my god, Milo. Are you okay?” Danny said, suddenly standing by their side as swiftly as a whirlwind. He grabbed up Milo’s injured hand, but was at least somewhat gentle about it.

“I’m fine, Danny. Lucien, here, got me all patched up. The cut was nothing.”

“I wouldn’t say it was nothing,” Lucien said, wondering how often Milo downplayed things. “But it won’t require stitches.”

Danny turned to Lucien, a grin forming that didn’t fit the situation, except maybe for Danny’s agenda. “Well, I thank you for taking care of our Milo.”

Milo rolled his eyes but smiled, pulling out of Danny’s grasp and standing up. “Is there a spare uniform that might fit me? Or at least pants—I think the shirt and vest are fine.”

“What are you talking about, Milo?” Danny said, following Milo to his locker. “We’re giving you the rest of the night off. Maybe the rest of the weekend. Your hand—”

“No.” Milo had stopped cold, looking at Danny with what could only be called desperation. “I have to work. My hand won’t be a problem. It’s not even bleeding anymore, and I’ll keep it bandaged. See, I can move it just fine.”

Danny watched Milo flexing his hand, showing the same concern and sympathy that Gabriel had shown for the sub. Danny sighed. “If you can get it cleared by a doctor, you can return for your shift tomorrow. Since the accident happened on the premises, we’ll cover the medical expenses. Get it checked out in the morning, then call me.”

“But—it was my fault,” said Milo.

Danny shook his head. “It’s a liability issue.”

Finally, Milo relented. “Alright. I’ll bring a doctor’s note tomorrow,” he said, opening his locker. He turned to look back at Lucien. “And thanks again, sir.”

“You’re welcome. It was the least I could do, as I bear most of the responsibility for the incident,” Lucien said, smiling warmly. He wasn’t going to let Milo forget it.

Danny perked up at that, his eyes twinkling as he looked between them. Lucien could almost believe that even the fallen scotch was a part of Danny’s plan to set them up.

“I’ll see you again, Milo,” Lucien said, leaving him with a lingering look, letting some of the heat he felt toward him flare in his eyes.

Milo nodded slowly and pushed his glasses up again. “Goodbye, sir.”

“Bye, Lucien. And it’s good to have you back,” Danny said, grinning again.

Lucien chuckled as he left the staff room, knowing he’d probably owe Danny. But he didn’t mind, as he was already looking forward to seeing Milo again.