I don't know how it ended up like this. I'm sleeping in my barely-of-age boyfriend's bed in his parent's house. His parents happen to be my ex in-laws. His father happens to be my boss. The power went out in our apartment building, in the dead of winter, and my subordinate at work, my only friend, blatantly refused to help me in a jam, so here I am in Shinobu's bed, the one he slept in as a child. Oh god, I'm going to hell.

I thought I'd gotten over this, the huge age difference, but it's come back in full force while I've been trapped in this room full of childhood sports trophies, stuffed animals, and video games. The way-too-young source of the problem is currently pouting on a couch downstairs. He tried to convince his parents to let him sleep on the floor in this room, but they said he would bother me, and he should give the professor privacy.

Obviously, they don't know what we're up to. They have no idea. I'm not about to give them the slightest reason to suspect either.

I jumped a guilty mile high when the door creaked open. Shinobu stuck his head in.

"Are you asleep?" he whispered.

"As if I could sleep in here," I hissed. He looked as though he didn't understand.

"What?"

"Never mind. What do you want?"

He looked hurt. Idiot, didn't he realize what a huge risk he was taking?

"I came to see how you were doing," he lied.

"I'm fine, go to bed."

"Which bed?" he said seductively.

"You're an idiot."

"Miyagi," he protested. To my horror, he stepped inside the room and shut the door. He came nearer and made that face I always lose to, that determined, desperate face that begs me to give him just the smallest touch. I sat up against the headboard. We had a better chance at playing it off as having a conversation if his parents barged in, not that they would. They have been nothing but polite, generous, and apologetic since their daughter divorced me and walked out of my life. It didn't matter how many times I told them that it was more my fault that hers. Shinobu straddled my lap sleepily and hid his face in my chest.

"What's the matter with you?" I muttered and ruffled his hair with my hand despite myself. The kid had learned that stubborn persistence was the best way to deal with old Miyagi. I just hoped he didn't notice how much he had me twisted around his little finger.

"Nothing," he replied. I knew that wasn't true. Time to annoy the hell out of him.

"Was there a monster hiding under the couch, little boy?" I teased.

"Shut up, Miyagi, can't I want to be near you?" he growled.

"What about your parents?"

He shrugged. "They're asleep. And, they'll knock."

"God, I hope so," I muttered. I shifted him so that he was sitting across my lap, instead of on it, firmly planting his ass on one of my thighs. I pulled his head against my chest and he gladly pulled my arm across him, so that his hand rested on my hand, which rested on his stomach. I had figured out the only ways to get the truth out of him wer to piss him off or make him feel very safe and accepted. I was growing to like the last option more and more. I nuzzled his forehead and left a kiss there.

"Just wanted to be with you," he mumbled sullenly. I sighed. It made sense; we'd been sleeping in the same bed for the past couple of weeks. It would be hard for him to go back to sleeping alone once he got a taste. It's funny: through him. I'm slowly learning what it's like to be vulnerable, dependent, and human, once again.