The train ride to Daniel's house was short. It was much shorter than the previous attempt, thank goodness, and Blackwood was there very quickly. He wanted to know more about what it was the younger man was talking about. He wanted to know what on earth H.E.L.L.S.I.N.G. is, and what he was seeing. He had no clue. Daniel did. The younger Westley was also tolerable and wore his heart on his sleeve. While H.E.L.L.S.I.N.G. would lie, Daniel would not. That made things simple.

Daniel, unlike his father, welcomed the assistant into his home without intimidating him in the slightest. To Paul's surprise, it was a lot cleaner than last time, although the smell of air freshener was a bit strong. Needless to say, however, it was a massive improvement. There was no trash on the floor, and it seemed as though there was at least an attempt to vacuum.

"You've cleaned up." Paul said as his eyes wandered around the room. Daniel looked over his shoulder as he headed to the kitchen.

"Huh? Oh, yeah… I got kinda tired of the place being a total dump. Now it's only a bit dumpy." the Westley replied. "You wanna beer? I'm sorry, I'd offer you tea, but honestly, it would taste better if you drank a cup of water with some grass in it."

"Beer is fine." Blackwood said, stopping in front of the sofa and taking a seat. Awkwardly, he waited on the other to return, almost failing to catch the drink that was tossed at him. Clumsily, he caught the beverage and set it on the table. He certainly wasn't going to open it after it had been shaken. Meanwhile, Daniel just plopped down next to him, taking a drink before setting his own beer on the table.

"So… H.E.L.L.S.I.N.G; yeah?" the younger man asked. "What do you know so far?"

"Not much. I didn't even know the name of the place until you told me." answered the other. "I had no idea what was going on. All I know is that the government has something in an abandoned part of the city that they don't want ordinary people seeing. And then there's… my 'condition'..."

Daniel nodded along, watching as the other finally opened his drink after feeling as though he had waited long enough. The mood was stiff and awkward. Neither of them really new how to start, as the subject matter was obviously taboo. Thus, in his usual ungraceful manner, the Westley leapt into things.

"Well, H.E.L.L.S.I.N.G. is a group that's an offset of the Round Table Conference. Their leader is the chairman of the council."

"Ah yes, the mysterious Round Table..." Paul mused. "Mister Westley was proud of being on that. He seemed upset that he wasn't allowed to brag about it, though."

"It's supposed to be a secret." the brunet said. "You can't ever tell anyone."

"Why's that?"

"Unlike the regular government, they actually do believe in the death penalty. They can make it like you never existed."

"Sounds unreal… I guess I'm in no position to question, though." Blackwood took a sip of his drink for the sake of being polite, but found himself enjoying it a lot more than he thought he would. It had been a while since he had alcohol of any kind, and he had to admit to himself that he somewhat missed it.

"Definitely, if you're seein' what they think you're seein'." Daniel retorted. "It's no joke. Anyway, H.E.L.L.S.I.N.G. deals with the kinda shit you're seeing. They keep it hidden from normal people, but somehow, you're able to see it anyway. I know the supernaturals have their own ways of making themselves look human, but I guess it's no match for that eye of yours."

"You've said 'supernaturals' before, but what are you talking about?"

"Exactly what it sounds like. Vampires and werewolves and elves and all that. They're out there. A lot of them live in that fenced off area you got arrested at."

"You're joking..." Paul accused, looking at the other with an expression that went beyond skepticism.

"Nope. I've seen them, too." Daniel insisted. "In the flesh. I didn't need a fancy eye or anything. I've been seeing them ever since I met Ciel and Alois, and I probably won't stop any soon."

"Then how are you able to see them if you don't have an eye like mine?"

"Easy. They're not in disguise all the time."

"Good god… My boss' son is bonkers..."

"It's true!" The Westley declared, looking to the other with absolute seriousness.

It was very unusual for the brunet to appear this stern, and it took the other by surprise. Blackwood raised his eyebrows as the other furrowed them. He was shocked that Daniel could be serious, and even more so over how much the younger man looked like his father. He wasn't sure if that persuaded him, or made him more resistant, and would certainly need more persuasion.

"Do you have proof?"

"Don't need it. You've already seen everything." Daniel replied, setting down his now empty can. "What do you think those things were? Go on. Quiz me. I'll tell you what they look like."

"Okay..." began the other, arching an eyebrow. "What does a demon look like?"

"Depends on the demon." answered the Westley. "Most have black horns, but they aren't always the same shape. Ciel's bend backwards, while Alois' go forwards. Both of them have these monkey-like tails, and red eyes. What did you see?"

Now this startled the assistant. Never in his life did he suspect that Daniel of all people would be able to make his blood run cold at his words. He did, though, and Paul did not know how to respond. He had seen it. When Blackwood looked at the two Phantomhive men with his left eye, he had seen just as Daniel had described. While he was still in denial, he could not argue, at the very least. The dumbfounded expression on his face said it all, and the fact that he looked away and refocused on his drink said more. At the gesture, the Westley smiled as he was quite pleased with himself.

"I'm right, aren't I?" he asked before reaching out and grabbing is can. "I may not be the smartest, but I can figure that much." the man added as he got up to throw the can away and get another drink.

He continued to talk while walking. "I know it's hard to accept that. I didn't take too kindly at it at first either. Even after you've accepted it, it can be weird. Once you think it's normal again, something will happen to shake that."

"So I'm seeing monsters, you're saying…" Blackwood trailed off, staring into space. That's just what he thought all along, but he didn't expect anyone to actually agree with that. Part of him hoped he was right, while the other still hoped he was crazy. If what Daniel was saying was true, that would mean that the world as he knew it was wrong and always was. For some, that is a burden that is simply too much to bear.

Then, the other sat down again, breaking his trance. "No. They don't like being called that." Daniel informed, opening his second can while the other had finished his first. "They prefer 'supernatural'… I got reminded of that the hard way, recently..." Blinking, Paul turned to face him.

"What happened?" the blonde asked, earning a sigh from the Westley.

"I said some stuff I didn't mean to Kris before you picked me up the other day." Daniel said. "He's supernatural. Werewolf. I said some pretty insensitive stuff while I was over there."

A werewolf? That's what Blackwood saw while he was there. It was even standing in Kristopherson's place! This was too much. It was all adding up too well.

"You're upset about hurting a werewolf's feelings?" he asked.

"Of course. He was my friend! And… At one point… We kind of had a thing going..." the younger man bashfully admitted, but in all honesty, the assisstant wasn't surprised. "Don't tell my dad. If you do, I'll kill you."

"I won't, I won't…" reassured Blackwood. "If you get me another beer, that is." he jested with a small smile. The expression was then returned by the brunet, knowing that he could trust Paul to lie to his father for him.

"Fine…" Daniel replied, getting up. After a few moments, however, he was back. "I couldn't do it, though! I can't handle having a werewolf boyfriend! Not everyone can!"

"I can imagine." Paul replied, opening his second can. "Sounds like a nightmare… So… You really believe in it?"

"Duh. That's what I've been saying."

"Sorry, I'm just still wondering if this is a prank. I'm still convinced that I'm crazy."

"If you're crazy, then so am I and more of the people I know." the Westley said, leaning back and getting comfortable, a sigh escaping his lips. "It's hard to accept, I know. It's like the world just ended. Suddenly, you realise that you're surrounded by these people, and you can't look at a street the same ever again. It's fucked up for a while. It's still kinda fucked up. And I can't even see them."

"Is it the fact that you can't tell that scares you?"

"Part of it. Part of it's just knowing they can kill you in a heartbeat. Flick of the wrist. All it takes."

"Have you had a bad run-in with them before?"

Daniel scoffed, laughing slightly. It was almost a sad laugh, mixed with fear. "A few. I saw one of my friends almost die. Instead, they really did become a monster. They still haven't caught him. I hear he's around Denmark, but that was months ago."

"Hmmm..." Naturally, Blackwood didn't know how to reply to that. It was too deep. It wasn't his place to comment or make judgment, he felt. Moreover, he was a bit stunned by how widespread this was. This was an international case. It wasn't limited to just London. Was London even safe? Was anywhere? What was the likelihood that something else would happen to him next? How many times has something happened to other people before him and it never coming to public attention?

"How many..." he muttered, surprising the other.

"How many what?" asked the younger man, arching an eyebrow.

"How many people have been effected by these… things?" Paul answered with a question. "And how many has… that H.E.L.L.S.I.N.G. place covered up?"

The question made the Westley a tad uncomfortable. That was something that he didn't really want to think about. He didn't want know know what went on at the organization, nor did he really want to know about their operations. Knowing might be too much for him. He was still far too soft to adjust to life knowing such things.

"I don't know..." Daniel responded. "They've been around for at least a hundred years, I think.."

"So they could have been affecting history that long..." the assistant answered with a slight scowl as he finished his drink. "It's infuriating… How much as the government been hiding?"

"They did it to protect people." the Westley interjected. "They basically put an end to all that witch-hunting and mass hysteria. That's something, isn't it?"

"I guess..." Paul wasn't certain. "Honestly, I think I'd like to know about that."

"Well… Now you do." Daniel said. "What you do with that is up to you."

"I don't know what I'll do with it." stated Blackwood, leaning backwards and resting his head on the back of the sofa. He stared up at the ceiling as he tried to process everything. His body felt heavy and he felt lethargy seep into his limbs. A deep sigh escaped him through his nose as he lamented it all. It was depressing, to say the very least. "There's nothing I really can do. What can you do with that knowledge? Let it sit while you go about things like a normal person?"

"Pretty much." Daniel stated. "It's not so bad. It kind of becomes normal-ish after while. You'll probably just start to get used to it."

"I don't really want to get used to it." Paul replied. "I want to do something with it. I don't know what, but something. I don't just want to sit idly by and watch this stuff happen."

Sighing again, the man closed his eyes and shook his head. "That's what I do with pretty much everything else, though. I don't really have control over anything. I just do what I'm told and never really do anything on my own. What kind of existence is that?"

"Dad's got you bummed?"

"Only always."

"He does that to people."

"I don't need this supernatural garbage on top of that."

"Well, you are on vacation, I hear." Daniel reminded, leaning forward and tilting his head slightly so he could look at the assistant's face. "Just relax for a bit. Let all of that go for now. Deal with it later."

"I'm not good at that..." the other huffed.

"Then have another drink until you can." jested Westley with a grin, and slowly, the other smiled back before nodding. That sparked several conversations that lasted hours, even as speech started to slur.

It was the first time in ages that Blackwood felt at ease. At last, it seemed as though he finally escaped his troubles as he enjoyed laughter and casual company. Even if Daniel was certainly not his first choice in companions, he was still having a wonderful time. He was certainly not going to complain as the nightmares were gone and he wasn't seeing creatures. Even the thought of the Westley's father and his boss didn't cross his thoughts for the longest time. The assistant was free from worries of work as a result. It was welcome. It was refreshing. It was delightful for the both of them, as Daniel was no longer pondering thoughts that ailed him as well.

Woes with Kristopherson and losing his newfound schoolmates did not enter his head. Being ignored and abandoned for refusing to be used by punks at college did not worry him. That damn father of his didn't, either. Even fussing over meeting with the rest of the seven at the end of the week and crashing their get together didn't bother him. He knew it in his heart and soul that he could pull it off. Surely, they would welcome him with open arms. That's what the can was whispering to him, at least.

Two stressed individuals were finally free of all that troubled them for at least a moment, and they were ecstatic. Nothing could ruin this accept the sun rising and returning them to reality. Until then, they would not concern themselves with that, however.

"So, dad can't even drive himself?" cackled the Westley as the other snickered along. "I feel like that explains a lot of things. Not sure what, but just a lot."

"Yeah. He always calls one of us." answered Blackwood. His words were clumsy and running together. His face was flushed and his glasses fell down his nose as their owner didn't bother to nudge them back into place. The assistant was a mess, to be blunt, but most healthy people are not pristine the entirety of the time. "It's like he thinks we're his cab service. He can hire a driver, but says that we're cheaper. We can't really say no, either. He threatens to fire us if we 'don't like doing our job'."

"What a fucking dick." Daniel replied. "I can't stand him, and I'm family. Dunno how you lot can."

"If he didn't pay us, we wouldn't, to be honest. None of us would. Everyone hates him. We'll all be celebrating, the day he gets out of politics."

"I can see that." the younger man said. "I know he's my dad and all, but it doesn't feel like it. He was never around. Too busy for his kids. Dunno why he even had us. It's obvious that he doesn't love us."

"I'm not sure he can love anybody, Dan..." answered the other with a sigh.

"I know. Not his kids, not his wife… The only one he loves is himself… I hope that bites him in the ass one day… One of you needs to get the balls to let everything he's done go public."

"Most of us have thought about it." Paul replied. "We just can't. Other politicians won't hire you if they think you'll let out their scandals, and whoever does sure as hell won't stay hired by Westley."

"Yeah, I guess…" Daniel sadly said, setting his empty can on the table covered with empty cans after spotting him a nice spot for it. He was going to be completely out of alcohol tomorrow, but the man didn't care. He was going to let things go, for now. "Shame… What all do you know about him? You know about the hookers?"

"The young, male, prostitutes he sees? Of course. Who do you think hands them the cheque so they don't talk?"

"Oh, so that's you?"

"Me or someone else in the office, unfortunately… One of us who's left..."

"He doesn't keep you long, does he?"

"Hardly ever. I think I'm the person who's been there the longest?"

"How long is that?"

"About five years." Answered Blackwood with a touch of bitterness in his tone. His statement, however, led to a follow up inquiry as the other raised his brow.

"How old are you, Paul?" Daniel questioned further with great curiousity. He had known the man for years, but hardly knew a personal thing about him. His age was just one of many! He didn't know about his hobbies or his interests, nor did he know about his family or history, or even his favourite colour. To his surprise, the assistant answered him without a thought.

"Twenty-seven, this year." Blackwood stated, finishing his drink. "Started as an intern when I was twenty, then I went off when the program finished and searched for a real job for a year before I got an offer from your dad. I've been wasting my life there ever since."

"Why did you take the job? Couldn't you have kept looking?"

"It wasn't awful when I was an intern." the assistant said. "Mister Westley was real nice when I was twenty and cute. Now I know how creepy he was. I don't even have to look back on it. I can see it whenever we get new people. He's disgusting… I was stupid to come back. I thought he was nice, but… I guess I just wasn't good at seeing what people really were back then."

The more he spoke, the deeper he scowled. Rather, he tried to, but hurt was present on his face and twisted it in a different way. Blackwood was angry. He was angry with Westley, angry with his ways and sickness, but even more than that, he was angry at himself for not seeing it sooner. The assistant was so naive and trusting when he was younger, but now he was almost like a machine. He did as instructed no matter what. It didn't matter how he felt or what else was happening. He would follow orders, even at his own expense.

"I'm such a fucking idiot..." he choked, his voice straining to come out as he shut his eyes and placed his palm on his forehead as he shook slightly. No matter how hard he tried to keep his eyes closed, water still managed to escape through the gap between his eyelids. "Why do I keep doing this? I can leave. I can leave like the others do. It's just… I've put in so much… Surely there's something I can get out of this..."

Daniel looked on with sad eyes as he watched the other man sob. Mister Blackwood was always so composed and well-put together. He always seemed to have his life in order, but little did Daniel know that this was a farce. Now he knew. He didn't know what to do with it, however. All he could do was be blunt with the blond.

"You won't..." the Westley said, shaking his head. "My dad never gives… He'll only use you until he can't anymore… That's what he does."

Paul knew that was true. He just didn't want to accept it. It was too painful. Just how much had he sacrificed for this wretched man? How many connections and opportunities was he forced to ignore in order to appease him? It would never be enough for Mister Westley. The man was going to wring Mister Blackwood dry of everything he was worth, and there was nothing Paul could do but leave and accept that it was a long, wasted venture. It wasn't fair.

Why was he allowed to get away with that? Power. It was because he had power. Money and prestige went a long way. It went further than ordinary people like Blackwood could bear to wrap their heads around. But Blackwood did not want to accept that. No, he wanted Westley to suffer. What could make him hurt?

He would have to strip him of his power. That damn, horrible man. The sadness that Blackwood felt slowly began to die, leaving only hot, burning anger in it's place. How dare this man?! He worked Paul to the bone day in and day out, even on weekends, expecting him to drop absolutely everything he was doing and tend to him. It didn't matter if it was morning, noon, or night. It didn't matter if Blackwood had clocked out for the day and was now off duty! No matter what, he had to tend to Mister Westley's wishes, no matter how trivial, meager, or downright ridiculous. It didn't even matter if Westley hadn't even given him instructions! He was supposed to know, as if he were supposed to be able to read minds. That wasn't in the job description! Hardly anything Mister Blackwood did was! Day in, day out, over and over and over and over and over and over again! Damn him! Damn Westley!

This is what Paul had been doing all of these years. He was slowly killing himself, as much as he worked. It simply wasn't fair. He was almost twenty-seven, and where had his life gone? He was trapped in a job that he hated and only stayed out of pride. He wasn't married. No girlfriend either. Boyfriend, too. He had nobody. He had missed his sister's wedding for Mister Westley. He had to skip out on seeing his family on Christmas of last year! Just how much had Blackwood sacrificed? What else had he to give? What more did Westley want from him? His blood? He had it. Paul had been injured countless times fulfilling his boss' whims. His sanity? That was slipping away as well due to his boss' actions! Did he want his soul? Perhaps. It was the only thing he didn't have so far. Everything else was gone. There was nowhere for Blackwood to go.

Could he have simply left? Certainly. But that wasn't good enough for Paul Blackwood. That would never be good for him. Mister overachiever. He had to go out with a bang. If he threw in the towel, he was going to take Mathew Westley down with him!

The more he thought, the angrier and angrier the assistant became. He was seething in his seat, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists. Daniel looked on with concern as he saw the man fume. Blood vessels protruded from the assistant's forehead as he stared down at the floor, eyes open but seeing nothing but red. The younger Westley didn't know what to do. He had never seen Paul so angry or emotional before.

"Paul?" he called finally, seemingly snapping he blond from his daze. Blackwood looked up finally, and turned his face to see the younger man. Dammit. The man looked just like his father, but much, much younger. The madness did not fade.

"Are you okay?" the brunet asked, his speech a bit slurred, although he was able to tell that something was immensely wrong.

His concern was not taken well by the other, however. It was irrational, but all Blackwood could see was his boss! It seemed patronising, although reason told Paul otherwise. He could see Daniel. He could tell it was Daniel. But the idea of Mathew loomed over him, so "Daniel" simply became "Mister Westley's son" in his mind.

"I'm fine..." Paul finally answered, blinking. "I'm sorry… I just… A lot is happening..."

"I can see that..." Daniel replied. "You've got a million things going on… And I thought I had it bad..."

"Like with Kristopherson and the others?"

"Well… yeah. Stuff like that..." Immediately upon remembering the details of his own predicament, Daniel shrunk slightly. His outgoing nature vanished momentarily as doubt sunk in. He had his own problems to tend to. If he thought they were bad, then surely there was no way he could handle Blackwood's! That was how the brunet thought.

He felt so stupid. It was just a falling out amoung friends. Surely it only just felt like more. That was an optimistic spin on things, as was the man's nature. In truth, he suspected more, however. Daniel knew that there was more.

There was heartbreak. While he tried to see Kristopherson as a friend, he knew he was still seeing him as something else. It was something else that he wasn't, and probably could never be. Kristopherson wanted nothing to do with him in that sense, and he honestly found that understandable. He knew he didn't give the faux-blonde what he needed and in truth, he didn't know if he ever could. The Westley was hardly mature enough to handle a human Kristopherson. He certainly lacked enough of it to handle a partner who was a supernatural. Daniel knew that this is the way that things must be, but that doesn't mean that it hurt any less.

Seeing Kristopherson invite people over whom he had never met before hurt, and listening to them talk with such familiarity hurt as well. He jumped to conclusions and made things worse. Now he wasn't certain if he could salvage a friendship with Kristopherson, and his standing with their mutual friends had seemed to have fallen as well. Daniel had no idea if he could repair it. He would try, but he was afraid. He wanted things to simply mend themselves, but he had made that mistake already, and he didn't want to make it again. That would be sad. Simply pathetic.

Failure was not an option. Yet, Daniel knew he lacked in grace. He was scared to move forward, but unable to move back. He didn't want to stay in place, as where he was was the worst of all. He was tired of trying to run away and making himself feel miserable as a result. He wanted to take control. He wanted to move past this and continue being friends with the seven.

Listing out his wishes, they seemed simple to achieve, but he wasn't certain. There was still doubt. Any guarantee that the others would accept him with open arms did not exist. They might, they might not. It all depended on them. It as only natural that he was afraid. It was nerve-wrecking. Stressful. He wanted a way out, but he would have to get himself there on his own. That was scary.

Blackwood could see that. It was written across the younger man's face quite clearly. He could sympathize with that as well. It was nice to have gotten away from those thoughts for a few hours, wasn't it? He didn't like that they had to come back so soon. Then again, part of Paul gained a bizarre sense of amusement from the Westley's expression due to how similar he looked to his father. It was wrong of him, and yet that's how he felt. His anger and sadness won over decency for a moment.

"You've tried finding someone before, haven't you? No luck?" the assistant questioned, prompting the other to shake his head.

"No… Not at all." Daniel answered. "Can't even find someone casually. I didn't think it would be this hard… Anastasia was easy to win over, and so was Kristopherson. Kristopherson can get a date without even trying. He makes it look so easy."

"Well, you're not Kristopherson." Blackwood said. "Maybe you shouldn't try so hard, and just let things happen naturally."

That made a rather curious question appear in the Westley's head. Arching an eyebrow he asked: "Are you seeing anyone, Paul?" It was a rather innocent question, as the younger man was curious to know more about the assistant. Never until this night had he really made inquiries about Blackwood's personal life, and he was curious. That curiosity, however, did not spark anything good in the other man.

"No." answered Paul, looking straight ahead. "Not in several years. It's hard to keep up relationships, with my job. It's just another price to pay."

Indeed. His last few partners had left him because of his dedication to the job. One of them was even a coworker at one point, but she left Westley's office, and when Paul refused to follow, she left him too. Mister Westley didn't seem too concerned. He talked badly about her for weeks in Blackwood's presence, but the blond took it in silence like a good, obedient worker. Indeed, obeying the orders of Mathew Westley, no matter how ridiculous they were, would cost one their entire life until they finally abandoned him.

Blackwood should do the same, but not without making his mark. No, he needed to wait until he had the perfect idea and the perfect opportunity. Unfortunately, that would never come, so the man needed to simply take the first one he could find. If he didn't, he would be stuck in sadness, stress, and loneliness until he had nothing left for Mister Westley to take. The though caused a bitter chuckle to erupt from Paul's throat as he reached up and rubbed his eyes, slipping his fingers underneath his glasses. It was an attempt to dry them in the most casual way possible, but it's success in that venture was hardly debatable.

"I'm sorry..." Daniel finally replied, grasping the other's attention again. "If there's anything I can do to help, just let me know… alright?"

Taking his fingers away from the left eye, and focusing on his right, Blackwood opened it and peered over at the brunet, taking in his sympathetic expression. His eye narrowed as he took again, somehow becoming angrier as he stared. Daniel looked like his father. He looked like a younger, kinder, more vulnerable version of that horrible, selfish, repulsive man. It certainly wasn't the brunet's fault and Blackwood did not hold him responsible for that by any means, but the fact did nothing to quell the growing storm inside of the assistant that was brewing. It festered, it growled, and it threatened to spill out into the open. Why Blackwood? Why did all of this have to happen to him?

He was an ordinary man. He was ordinary, but upon further inspection, his life was not. His work made his live a living hell, sapping up everything he had to offer. It took his relationships, his time, his effort, his health, and his sanity. Then he had his eye. His left eye that added monsters into his hell, giving it a new depth of madness that took away anything that was left. And finally, even with all of that, it was revealed to him that the world as he knew it is a lie. The people who run this world have kept it that way, hiding things that would alarm the public away from it's view. Blackwood could see it, though. He could see it all, now. No one would believe him though. He is simply an ordinary man who has become mad, as ordinary people cannot handle what he has endured and knowing what he now knows. What could he possibly do with it, though? What would any ordinary person who has become abnormal do? The answer is not definite, but Blackwood knew what he wanted. He would do as he told Daniel and stop being passive and just go through life waiting on others to change things for him. Blackwood would be a part of the game, but he would no longer be a pawn for someone else to use. He wanted to become a contender.

"I guess we're in the same boat, then..." Paul said, taking his hand away from his face and leaning back.

His expression changed in a way that made Daniel nervous, but he wasn't sure if it was in a way that was good or bad. Blackwood sat smiling softly while seemingly staring right through him. It made him feel vulnerable to the assistant. All the brunet could do was stare back at him as he continued to speak.

"I think I know how we can fix it." Blackwood said, getting closer. His words were a tad slurred and his face was flushed, but so was Daniel's. It wasn't just from the alcohol, however. The younger man found himself paralysed as he watched the other close in the blond kept eye contact with him all the while, causing his heart to flutter.

There was hesitance. It was only natural, as Daniel had never considered this possibility, nor would he have ever on his own. Black wood was certainly handsome, but Daniel did not think that he was the man's type, nor did he ever see himself behaving this way with a man like Blackwood. In truth he didn't even suspect that men were a viable option for the blond, yet here they were. Paul was so close to him that he hadn't the slightest idea of what to do. All he really could think to do was tilt his head and accept it. To Daniel, the kiss was anxiety-inducing yet comforting at the same time. To Blackwood, however, it was nothing.