Echoes of Us: The CEO and His Soulmates [BL]

"What was he doing here?"

Damian's voice had enough edge to slice through the fragile quiet that had lingered after Callum left. The door had barely clicked shut when he stepped inside, his gaze icy and locked on Micah. 

Micah blinked at him, startled by the venom in his tone. "What?" 

"Callum Pierce," Damian spat the name like it was poison. "Why was he here?" 

Micah opened his mouth, but Damian held up a hand, stopping him. His voice dropped, cold and measured. "I waited for him to leave before coming in because I didn't want to make a scene. So now I'm asking. Why the fuck was he in your apartment, Micah?" 

Micah stared at him, dumbfounded. "Rosa invited him in for game night. It wasn't a big deal—" 

Damian's face twisted in fury, his hand slamming against the wall. "Not a big deal?" His voice rose sharply. "You let that bastard in here?" 

The room felt like it had shrunk, the air heavy and suffocating. Micah took a step back, his heart hammering against his ribs. "Damian… what's going on? Why are you acting like this?" 

Damian grabbed his wrist with a harsh grip, pulling Micah closer. "Don't play dumb," he snarled. "Are you telling me you don't see the way he looks at you?" 

Micah flinched at the anger in his voice. "The way he—what? Damian, he's just my boss—" 

"Don't," Damian cut him off, his voice trembling with rage. "Don't stand there and act like you don't know. The bastard wants you!" 

Before Micah could even process what was happening, Damian threw him against the wall. The impact wasn't hard enough to hurt, but it was enough to leave him stunned, his breath hitching in his throat. 

Damian's fist slammed into the wall beside Micah's head, the sound echoing like a gunshot. 

"Of course he wants you," Damian snarled, leaning in to Micah, his eyes burning with rage. "Do you know how many men have looked at you like that since we've been together? I see it every damn time. It's 'fuck me' eyes. That greedy bastard can't keep his hands to himself." 

"Damian!" Micah gasped, his voice trembling. 

This wasn't Damian. Not the Damian he knew, the one who held his hand during panic attacks and whispered promises that he'd always be safe. But this Damian—the one with clenched fists and wild eyes—scared him in a way he wasn't ready to admit.

"Please—you're scaring me." 

The words hung in the air, cutting through Damian's fury like a hot knife through butter. His chest heaved as he stared down at Micah, his blue eyes wild and stormy. 

Damian froze, his fist still clenched against the wall. For a moment, Micah thought he might hit something again, but then... he deflated. The fire in his eyes flickered, replaced by something raw and broken. His shoulders slumped, his expression crumbling into a soft and regretful gaze. "Micah," he breathed, his voice breaking. 

He cupped Micah's face with trembling hands, his touch gentle, almost desperate. "I'm so sorry," he murmured, his forehead pressing against Micah's. "I didn't mean to scare you." 

Micah's heart was still pounding, his body still tense, but Damian's sudden shift caught him off guard. He stared into his boyfriend's eyes, searching for answers, for an explanation. 

"Forgive me. I just—" Damian's voice cracked. He pulled Micah into a tight embrace, burying his face in Micah's shoulder. "I can't lose you, okay? I can't." 

Micah hesitated, his hands hovering uncertainly before resting lightly against Damian's back. "Callum Pierce is just my boss," he said softly. "There is nothing between us." 

"You don't know him like I do," Damian muttered into his shoulder, his voice low and bitter. "He'll chew you up and, once he's tired of you, he'll spit you out. Just like he does everyone." 

Micah frowned, confused. "What does that mean? I thought you'd never met him before." 

Damian didn't answer, and Micah pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze. He placed his hands on either side of Damian's face, forcing him to look at him. "I'm just… worried," Damian said, softly. "Guys like him always have an angle." 

"I don't care how he looks at me," Micah said firmly, his green eyes steady. "It's only you I see. It's only you I love." 

Damian's breath hitched, his hands tightening on Micah's waist. "Yeah?" 

Micah's lips curved into a faint smile. "Yeah." 

He leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to Damian's lips. It was meant to be reassuring, comforting, but the moment their mouths touched, Damian deepened the kiss, his hands pulling Micah closer, as if he couldn't stand even an inch of distance between them. 

Micah felt the tension leave Damian's body, replaced by a possessive kind of desperation. It wasn't the first time Micah had seen this side of him—the side that needed physical closeness to reassure himself, to feel loved. 

Micah's hands slid to Damian's chest, his fingers brushing against the buttons of his shirt. He took a shaky breath, letting himself get lost in the warmth of Damian's kisses, in the way his boyfriend's lips claimed him like he was something precious, something worth holding onto. 

"Let me show you," Micah whispered against Damian's mouth, his voice soft but resolved.

Damian's blue eyes burned with something fierce, something raw, as Micah tugged him toward the bedroom. 

The door clicked shut behind them, the world outside fading away as Micah focused solely on Damian—the weight of his gaze, the heat of his touch. 

Micah's fingers fumbled with Damian's shirt, unbuttoning it slowly, reverently. His hands slid over Damian's chest, tracing the lines of muscle beneath his fingertips. Damian let out a low sound, his hands moving to Micah's waist, pulling him closer, guiding him. 

Micah pressed a kiss to Damian's jaw, then his neck, letting himself get lost in the moment. In the way Damian's lips found his again, in the way his boyfriend's touch was both gentle and demanding. 

Taking the initiative, Micah pushed Damian back onto the bed, his heart racing as Damian allowed himself to fall, his lips curving into a rare, satisfied smirk. 

Damian's eyes were heavy with want, watching Micah's every move as he sank to his knees, his fingers brushing against Damian's thighs. Micah's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, of emotions, but he pushed them all aside, focusing on the only thing that mattered in that moment: Damian. 

"You're mine, Micah. I won't let him take you away from me," Damian said. 

Micah's hands moved on autopilot, weighing the girth of Damian's cock. If he focused on the rhythm of their breathing, the heat of Damian's touch, he could drown out the quiet voice in the back of his mind—the one that kept whispering, 'Is this really love?'

Because when Damian looked at him like this, when he kissed him with this kind of need, it was easy to convince himself that what they had was healthy. 

It was easy to believe their love was enough, even when it hurt. 

It was easy to forget everything else.