Vince was rubbing at his eyes, looking at the phone by his side through a veil of moisture. 'Bloody git!' he told himself. 'What's to cry about?'

Just the small fact that he'd just had the most amazing, unexpected and sexy experience of his life with Stuart Alan Jones - love of his life. Vince beamed despite the tears.

Of course, it wasn't quite the real thing. His smile died down. What if Stuart would never do this for real? What if it was okay on the phone, but not "face to face", so to speak?

Vince fought down the panic attack. After this night, he just couldn't stand the thought of not being with Stuart. For nearly 16 years, it had been enough to just see him, talk to him, be with him. His trusty companion. His best friend.

'Why did I throw it all away?' Okay, too late. The panic attack was there, and it wouldn't go away.

'How could I have been so bloody stupid? Everything was okay as it was.' Well, not really, but it was at a point where things were safe. Where he was safe. And his feelings, too. Nothing had needed to change. Nothing at all. 'Bloody twat!'

Vince fell back on the sofa, groaning. The sticky reminder of it all was still drying on his thighs and stomach, even while he was desperately trying to come up with a way to put everything back to how it had been a few hours ago. Him - longing for Stuart. And Stuart being his friend. Most importantly - Stuart not hating him.

At Heathrow airport, Stuart Alan Jones was racing from the taxi stand into the main tower, seeking out the British Midland stand.

"Ticket to Manchester. I'll take any seat, any class, just as long as the plane leaves now!" he demanded of the sour-faced clerk.

"There'll be a flight in fifty minutes, Sir. But it's all booked up."

"Rubbish! You always keep spare seats open. Let me talk to your supervisor."

The clerk flushed deep red. "Uh... yes, Sir." And with that, he went out back, talking to a suit who looked through the crack in the door at Stuart with suspicion.

When he came out, Stuart grinned. "Well?"

"I'm afraid there's no vacant seat on this flight. But I can offer you a first class seat on our first morning flight, Sir."

Stuart sighed. "I don't care if I'm flying in the luggage compartment, Sir. I need to be on this particular flight. It's an emergency."

"But I really can't help you. I..." The suit gasped when he was presented with a wad of 100-pound notes. "Well, perhaps..."

Stuart grinned and said with determination, "Good. This is all the luggage I have. I'm checking it in." He heaved his bag onto the conveyor belt and the nervous clerk processed it quickly, as soon as he'd stuffed the bills into his pocket.

"Flight no. BD594, Seat no. 30E, Second Class, Mr Jones." He passed Stuart his boarding pass and a complementary pen.

"Thanks. Nice doing business with you." Stuart departed, deciding to get himself a cup of coffee while he waited. There was no way he was going to allow himself to fall asleep and miss this flight!

Vince was pacing. He was also swearing at himself. And once in a while, he stopped in his tracks and considered ramming his head through the wall. "Twat!" he growled. Repeatedly.

And then he looked at the phone, but discarded the idea again. After what had happened, needy was the last thing he wanted to appear. At least not needier than Stuart already knew him to be.

Stuart slurped a cup of mocha, checking his watch for the third time in as many minutes. It occurred to him that another airline might have a flight sooner, but after a glance at the departure board and a trip to the information stand in the Arrivals lounge, he learned that no, the flight he was going to be on was the only one left to Manchester that night.

He settled into one of the chairs in the departure area, keeping an eye on the board and thinking. Thinking really hard about what had happened that night.

'Vince had better not be having second thoughts,' he thought. 'Maybe I should call him?'

Stuart went to search the pockets of his jacket for his mobile but came up empty. 'Shit!' He'd checked it in with his bag.

'He's got me totally confused now,' he thought affectionately. A big grin spread all over his face. 'Stuart Alan Jones - you're a sad git!'

He could have phoned Vince on one of the airport phones, of course. But then again - he had told him to get a lot of sleep. Would be stupid to disturb him now.

According to Stuart's watch and the wall clock - 35 minutes to go and he'd be in the air.

Vince had meanwhile worked himself into a state of absolute anxiety. He couldn't think of a damn thing to do. Have a long sleep, Stuart had said. Yeah right.

One of two things would happen - Stuart would get here and make love to him, and the two of them would live happily ever after, or Stuart would give him a quick call from his own place, telling him that the best thing to do would be to forget the whole thing, pretend it never happened.

Vince - always on the pessimistic side of life - was inclined to expect the second option, and he began to prepare his light-hearted response of, 'It was a great joke though, Stuart.'

A little voice told him that he should just wait to find out what would really happen, but experience had taught him that if he expected the worst, the disappointment would be marginally more bearable.

Well... it had been fantastic while the illusion had lasted.

"Flight BD594 now boarding at Gate 3."

Finally! Stuart jumped to his feet and stormed to the announced gate, making it there before any of his fellow passengers.

He was checked in and boarded the plane, found his seat and quietly settled down, hoping everyone else would do the same so that they could take off without delay.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Flight BD594 from London to Manchester. We are right on schedule, departing at 20:40 pm, due to arrive at Manchester 21:35 pm. Please keep your seat belts fastened until we reach our traveling altitude..."

Stuart ignored everything including the safety demonstration. The only part of the announcement that was of interest to him was the arrival time.

An hour from now, he'd be in Manchester. Within another hour, he could be holding Vince in his arms. Finally. Smiling, he fastened his seat belt and closed his eyes.

Vince decided to take a bath. It was too damn early to go to bed, and he doubted he would really need that long sleep. So he filled the tub right up, went completely overboard with bubble bath and dove into the warm, wet comfort.

Unfortunately, when confronted with the soothing warmth, his emotions really ran away with him, and he began to cry, muttering 'stupid idiot', 'silly git' and other unkindnesses under his breath.

Stuart made it through the arrival procedure quickly. Not as quickly as he would have liked, but if he'd acted any more in a hurry, he'd probably have been searched for drugs. The latex-gloved finger of a stranger was not what he wanted up his arse tonight!

22:00 pm and he was at the airport taxi stand in Manchester.

"Shit! What do I have to lose now?" Vince jumped up from the sofa where he'd been lying, resting from his far too hot bath. He reached for the phone and dialed the Westchester hotel, asking to be put through to room 682. Stuart had told him all the details before he'd left Manchester.

The phone rang. And rang. And eventually, he was put back through to hotel reception, where he was told that Stuart had left.

Vince didn't wait for further explanations. After a curt "Thanks", he hung up.

'So he went out after all. Got himself turned on with me, and then went to find a real shag.'

Vince huddled on his sofa, hugging himself. And he began to rock back and forth.

Right outside Vince's place, Stuart stood with his bag in his hand, taking a very deep, steadying breath.

God, why was he so nervous? This was Vince. His best friend. They'd known each other forever. So why was he standing here, trembling like a leaf?

Oh yes. This was also his lover. Stuart smiled. He liked the sound of that. His lover! He'd never known anyone else he'd want to use a name like that for.

With determination, he went to ring the door bell, before deciding there were better ways to wake up Vince. He took the key to Vince's front door out of his pocket. Turning it, he quietly pushed the door open and entered the darkened house.

Vince's head jerked up when he heard the door opening. He reached for the phone, getting ready to call the police, when he saw an all too familiar figure appearing in the doorway.

Stuart smiled, taking in Vince's huddled form in a pair of blue and white striped pajamas. "Hands off that phone, Vince. We're done with that."

Vince's jaw dropped, and the feeling in his gut was beyond description. "Stuart?"

"If you've gotta ask." Grinning, Stuart set down his bag and began to walk across the room. God, this room was so familiar to him. Everything about it. He knew it better than his own place. It was more of a home to him. And it was because of that absolutely stunning as well as currently stunned man sitting on that sofa.

Vince whimpered. The reality of Stuart's being there suddenly set in. "I... I thought you... I tried to call..."

"I was going to warn you, but I thought I'd surprise you instead." Stuart had almost reached him now.

That was when Vince jumped up and moved away, nervously tugging at his pyjama top and heading towards the kitchen. Backwards. "You want a coffee? You must be tired. How did you get a flight this late? What about your appointment in London tomorrow? Did you contact your firm? I only have decaf. I bet it was hard to get on a flight at such short notice..."

Stuart chuckled. God, he adored this crazy fool. "I don't want coffee," he said, continuing to follow Vince very slowly.

"Tea? You want tea instead? No, that's a stupid question. How 'bout a beer?" Vince opened the fridge, rummaging around in it, never letting Stuart out of his sight. "Don't think I have any. Just... milk."

"I don't want tea, beer or milk, Vince." Stuart was close now. Really close. He slowly shrugged out of his jacket and dropped it to the floor, remaining clad in a pair of black jeans and a black shirt.

Vince gulped.

And Stuart grinned. "I don't want a thick shake, a fruit juice or gin and tonic, either."

Vince managed to wriggle past him once more. "Do you want me to make you something to eat? I've got some stuff about for sandwiches. I could..."

Stuart finally caught up with Vince in the corner of the kitchen, just before he managed to slip back out into the hall. Stuart trapped him against the wall, approached him like a panther would approach its prey. His dark eyes were on fire. "No food, Vince. I'm hungry, but there's nothing I want in your fridge."

Vince swallowed.

Stuart was close now. So close.

Vince could smell him - Stuart's clean, musky aftershave, the apple shampoo he always used, the fresh flavour of the peppermint he'd had on his way from the airport.

"I... could..." Vince started.

"Hush." Stuart reached out a hand and cupped Vince's cheek, delighting in the soft whimper and instinctive press against the touch. He let his thumb smoothe over Vince's bottom lip, effectively stopping any possible inane comments in their tracks.

"I don't want anything, Vince. Just you. Always you." Stuart moved forward, catching Vince against him just before he could slowly slide down the wall.

Stuart teased, "Didn't I tell you to get a good sleep? See how tired you are?" He wrapped his arms around Vince's waist, hardly able to believe he was actually truly holding him.

"Sleep?" Vince was dazed. And suddenly, he broke into a huge grin. "Stuart!"

"Oh look, he's awake!" Stuart grinned and took one long look at Vince, expecting him to somehow look different, now that they'd grown even closer than nearly 16 years of friendship had ever brought them. And he felt a sudden pain followed by intense warmth in his heart. Oh shit! He was actually in love. Stuart Alan Jones... in love.

Vince sensed something had just happened. He'd seen what had looked like a little flashlight in Stuart's eyes. "Oh. My. God," he muttered.

"Why are you shaking, Vince?"

Vince just swallowed.

And Stuart suddenly realized that Vince had faint red rings around his eyes. "You thought I wouldn't come, didn't you? You twat! You actually thought this meant nothing to me!"

Vince nodded. Then he shook his head. "I didn't know. I mean, I wasn't sure. And with you being Stuart and all..." He smiled crookedly. "I didn't want to..."

Stuart knew what he meant, even though it hurt to admit it. Vince hadn't wanted to get his hopes up. "What am I going to do to make you stop being so bloody insecure?"

Smiling hesitantly and looking all the more adorable because of it, Vince murmured, "Sorry."

"That's not really good enough, is it?" Stuart grinned when Vince looked at him in shock. He saw those familiar blue eyes staring at him with something like awe, realizing at the moment that he'd always seen it there, only he hadn't known to look for it.

"Why won't you believe me when I tell you that you're gorgeous." Stuart's eyes roved over Vince's face. "That you're sexy." He stood back a little, though not far enough to remove his hands from Vince's waist. He looked down his best friend's body - incredibly tempting in those silly pyjamas - before their eyes met and the heat in Stuart's gaze nearly melted Vince. "That I want you." He reached around the back of Vince's neck and drew him closer, until their lips almost touched. "That I love you."

Vince shuddered. His heart started thumping to some bloody non-existent marching tune, his stomach was doing flips and he grew goosebumps all over. "Because you've never... told me that..." he whispered, his breath warm against Stuart's lips.

"I haven't?" Stuart moved his head a little, letting his tongue flick against the corner of Vince's mouth. When their mutual moan died down, he smiled sheepishly. "How could I forget?"

Vince felt himself sinking. He wanted to fall. He wanted to fall into Stuart's arms and be caught and held there for bloody ever.

And Stuart caught him.

Vince was trembling, held up only by Stuart reaching around his waist, and that body he'd been dreaming about since he was a teen pressed against him. And it was going to get better still.

Stuart leaned in to breathe softly in Vince's ear before his lips slowly moved down the side of his neck and forward and back up over his chin. There he nibbled for a bit, before finally, finally taking Vince's mouth in a kiss that was at once tender and demanding, and absolutely nothing like the quick pecks he'd given him in the past.

With the spell broken, Vince finally wrapped his arms around Stuart's neck, moving against him. He parted his own lips with a moan, allowing Stuart's forceful entry.

The hands on Vince's back were singeing him even through the thick cotton, rubbing over his spine, his sides, down to his arse and back up to the small of his back.

Vince was in heaven. Stuart's tongue was doing things to him no one's cock had ever done to him, and he was in bloody heaven. Heck, all they were doing was kissing, and he was floating on a cloud, and he could swear he even heard harps playing.

When Stuart cupped his face and withdrew with a gasp, Vince sucked in a lungful of air before exclaiming, "Oh my God!"

Stuart grinned like an idiot. "I agree. What was that crap you were telling me about not being a good kisser?"

"I never said I wasn't," Vince replied, suddenly feeling light as air and ready to be cheeky. "I asked you how you know if you're a good kisser."

"Right." Stuart licked his lips, savouring the taste of Vince - cookies and vanilla ice-cream. Weird and wonderful - just like Vince. He grinned. "I tell you how you know if you're a good kisser, Vince."

Vince smiled back teasingly. "Yeah?"

Stuart reached for one of Vince's hands and pulled it down, pressing it against the very noticeable bulge in his tight pants. "That's one way to tell," he declared breathlessly, taking great delight in the deep blush on Vince's face.

"What's the other?" Vince asked shakily, moving his hand around to his friend's narrow hip instead.

And taking Vince's other hand, Stuart pressed it against his own heart while holding a pair of incredibly blue and wonderful eyes with his own. "This is. It's the more reliable way to tell."

Vince smiled. "You know, if you're not careful, I'm gonna start thinking you have serious intentions with me."

"I'd better make sure to not be too careful then."

It took Vince a moment to catch on. He looked into Stuart's eyes and instead of the sexy, teasing, predatorial look he'd seen directed at so many blokes before, he saw Stuart the way he was when he'd just been hurt. Like when Lisa snapped at him. Or when Cameron or even Stuart's own sister had a go at him.

Vince's eyes narrowed while he made up his mind whether or not he could trust Stuart with his heart.

"What can I do to prove it to you?" Stuart asked softly.

Shrugging, Vince said, "Don't think you can do anything, really. I guess I'll just have to take the chance."

"Think I'm worth it?" Stuart asked, sounding a lot less confident than usually.

"Hmm..." Vince tilted his head, holding his friend's gaze. He was just keeping Stuart a bit on edge for a change. He'd made up his mind when he was fourteen years old.

And then Stuart did something quite unexpected. He fell on his knees in front of Vince and took his hands, nuzzling against them. "Please?"

Vince was speechless. Stuart... begging... him!

"Um..." Vince smiled. "Stuart!"

Looking up pleadingly, Stuart's eyes still held nothing of their customary mirth.

"Yes." Vince's heart jumped when he saw the effect his muttered agreement had on Stuart. He actually looked happy. "You can get up now," he murmured, beginning to grow embarrassed by the sentimentality of it all.

Stuart shook his head. He kept looking up, but his hands were pushing Vince's aside and he wrapped his arms around his waist briefly, hugging him like that. Then, he slowly began to unbutton Vince's pyjama top, starting with the lowest button.

Vince just stood pressed with his back against the wall, watching, mesmerized by the slow movements of Stuart's long fingers as they undid one button after the other, briefly sliding against his bare skin once in a while.

Stuart could feel the excitement pouring off Vince, and he determined not to rush. They were both going to enjoy this. "Remember how I told you on the phone that I wanted to see you... taste you..." he whispered, just loud enough for Vince to hear.

"Uh huh..." Vince kept watching, his eyes wide as they followed Stuart's every move. He watched him push his pyjama top aside and tenderly kiss his stomach, before tugging at the waistband of his pants. "I remember I nearly came right then," Vince said hoarsely.

"You're close now, too." Stuart brushed the back of his hand over Vince's erection, smiling at the harsh intake of breath.

"Yeah." Vince was panting. He wasn't good at being vocal about... stuff. But apparently, Stuart loved it, so he'd sure as hell try. "You should see yourself kneeling there like that, Stuart. It's damned sexy."

Stuart nipped at the top of Vince's pants, pulling them down a little further with his teeth, while his eyes never broke contact with the adoring blue ones looking down at him.

"I'd love to see myself through your eyes, Vince. Just once," Stuart said unexpectedly. "You must see something no one else does."

Vince beamed. "I know what to look for, that's all." He tilted his head, his eyes fixed on Stuart's. "And I never get tired of looking, you know."

"I've noticed." Stuart grew once again serious. "And you know what?"

Vince shook his head.

"You're the only one I don't get tired of. And I don't think I ever will."

Vince blushed and smiled. He was about to say that he was nothing much to look at but remembered that Stuart had told him he was gorgeous. If he didn't trust Stuart on this, how could he on anything really important?

"Vince?"

Vince realized he'd been grinning like an idiot while staring off into space. "Sorry. Just been thinkin'."

Stuart pulled at the elastic, easing the cotton pants slowly down until they were barely held up by Vince's hips. He leant forward and kissed Vince's hipbone, before planting a row of kisses all along the edge of the fabric.

"Oh. My. God." Vince closed his eyes and his head snapped back and hit the wall. "Ow!"

Stuart chuckled. "Stop thinking, Vince." And more seriously, "And stop hurting yourself on account of me."

"O... kay..." Vince dared another look down, rubbing the back of his head, and saw Stuart's index finger hooked behind his waistband, slowly peeling his pants all the way down.

When his erection sprang free, was caught in Stuart's mouth and immediately sucked deep into his throat, Vince damn near came. He groaned loudly, shuddering and reaching for Stuart's shoulders to support himself.

Drawing Vince closer with his hands on his hips, Stuart sucked him hard, his lips forming a tight ring around Vince's cock while he kept swirling his tongue around the hot, swollen head.

When he felt his friend's hands in his hair, pulling him closer, clenching in his dark curls with a certain desperation, Stuart felt something he'd never felt while giving a blowjob. He knew that what he was doing meant something to the recipient. Really, truly meant something. Something that had nothing to do with sex. And he realized that this aroused him more than any shag ever had.

"Whatever you do... don't stop!" Vince pleaded when Stuart tried to come up for air. He smiled in satisfaction when the incredible sucking and licking continued almost uninterrupted. "Jesus, Stuart!"

Doubling his efforts, Stuart grabbed Vince's hips tight, took him in as far he could and swallowed.

That finally did Vince in and he came with a shuddering gasp, his fingertips tight against Stuart's scalp while he filled his mouth.

And Stuart took it all, finishing off by licking Vince clean, just as he'd told him he would on the phone. When he looked up, allowing the now limp shaft to slip from his mouth, he found Vince looking down at him with bright, almost feverish eyes. "Any good?" Stuart asked, managing not to smile.

Vince opened his mouth, tried to speak, but closed it again. He nodded.

"Vince!"

"Absolutely... bloody... fantastic, Stuart! I think I'm gonna die from this."

"Don't you dare!" Holding onto Vince's hips, Stuart tried to stand, ignoring that his legs had gone to sleep and that Vince's pants were pooled around his feet. Hence, with a crash, they both landed on the floor, Vince falling on top of Stuart and finding himself held close.

"Vince, you animal!" Stuart laughed.

Giggling, Vince leaned down and rested his forearms on either side of Stuart's head. He rubbed against him, feeling Stuart's erection between his legs, tenting and slowly dampening the fabric of Stuart's expensive jeans.

With a groan, Stuart pushed up against him, his eyes closing in bliss when he managed to slip between Vince's thighs and against his ass. "Get me out of these damn pants, Vince!" he growled.

Vince obliged hurriedly, reaching between them and tugging at Stuart's zipper impatiently. "We're not gonna do this down here, are we?" he asked, stilling his movement in midair.

"Why not?" Stuart asked with a grin.

Vince giggled. "Cause I haven't vacuumed this floor in ages!"

"Eww!" Stuart sat up, still holding onto Vince who now sat in his lap. "I like this," he said. "You half naked, me fully dressed. It's got something."

"That's cause it's not your bare arse the dust mites will be crawling into." Vince got up, kicked away his pyjama pants so he could actually walk, and pulled Stuart to his feet also.

They were both a little shaky, smiling and embarrassed.

"Come on," Vince finally said, drawing Stuart along behind him to the bedroom. There, he hesitated.

Stuart looked into Vince's eyes. Those beautiful, warm, adoring eyes. "Undress me, Vince," he said.

Vince smiled and nodded, getting started on Stuart's shirt and taking his time with the smooth silk, before he pushed it back and off Stuart's shoulders. He let one finger trace the muscular line of Stuart's chest before he got to work on his jeans.

Stuart allowed everything, smiling and looking enigmatically at Vince.

"What?" Vince finally asked, a little self-consciously.

"You're adorable, Vince. Especially when you're dressed in nothing but pyjama tops."

They had a laugh together, and then Stuart - by now down to his underwear - drew Vince into his arms and kissed him again.

And again, Vince felt himself floating on a cloud. When he withdrew, his eyelids fluttered open slowly. "If it's gonna be like that everytime you kiss me, I'll be needing lead weights on my feet."

Stuart chuckled. Then he stroked over Vince's cheek and leaned close to his ear, holding him tight. "I love you, Vince."

Two times in one night! Vince was happy. No, more than that. He was delirious. He'd waited so darn long for those four words, and he'd heard them twice this night. It was time he said them back. "I love you too, Stuart. Always have."

Stuart withdrew. "And always will?"

Nodding and smiling sheepishly, Vince still couldn't help but wait to be mocked. But instead, he heard a very determined, "Me too."

"Stuart, if you don't take me soon..." he whispered.

"You'll take me instead? Yes, please." Stuart grinned.

"Really?" Vince had no idea why, but he'd never imagined it that way around.

"Don't you want to?" Stuart teased. The gleam in Vince's eyes made it clear enough that he did. But it didn't hurt to ask.

"Oh yeah, I want to." And with that, Vince slipped Stuart's underwear down the lean legs and pushed Stuart back onto the bed and straddled him, allowing him to remove that pyjama top finally. They momentarily paused, just taking in that first moment of being pressed close entirely naked, feeling each other like they'd never done before.

"I've waited long enough!" Vince finally exclaimed, reaching for the nightstand and the tube of cream he kept there.

Stuart eyed it suspiciously. "Cocoa butter?" He grinned.

"It smells nicer."

Laughing, Stuart unscrewed the top while Vince held the small tube. "Everything has to smell nice with you, doesn't it?"

Vince grinned. "Anything wrong with that?"

"No." Stuart bit his lip. "It's sexy. I've always thought you smell so good, Vince. It's how I knew you'd taste good, too."

Blushing a little, Vince squeezed some of the cream into his left hand and reached between them. "Ready?" he asked teasingly.

"Ready." Stuart closed his eyes and allowed nothing into his senses but Vince's fingers as they pressed against his opening and past the tight ring, getting him ready.

When he heard the soft warning, "Stuart...", he opened his eyes again to the sight of Vince dropping the tube beside the bed and positioning himself between his legs.

"Do it, Vince!" Stuart demanded huskily.

And with a smooth, gentle stroke, Vince entered him.

They both gasped and paused for a moment, simply letting the reality of it all sink in.

"Oh. My. God."

Stuart smiled, wrapping his legs around Vince's waist. "Take me, Vince. Take me as sweet or as hard as you want."

And Vince took him sweet at first, and then harder, until they got into a completely synchronous rhythm, as if they'd done this forever.

Stuart squeezed his eyes shut a few times, but kept opening them again, watching Vince. Watching his best friend making love to him the way he knew he'd always wanted. And he had no idea why it had taken him so fucking long to let him.

"I'm ready now, Vince. I'm ready for this. For you." Stuart suddenly realized he was speaking his thoughts out loud. But that was alright, because it was time he learned how to do that anyway.

"I didn't mind waiting," Vince moaned. "This is all that matters now. Us."

Stuart gasped when Vince's touched him deep inside. "Yes!" he breathed. "Us."

And they rocked together, eventually clutching at each other tightly and coming almost at the same time.

Stuart bucked up against Vince, who bent down and kissed him, groaning his own release into Stuart's open mouth.

"If I ask you again now, will you say 'yes'?" Stuart asked, his arms around Vince who'd been dozing with a smile on his face.

"Ask me what?"

"Whether you'll move in with me. You know, like we were always talking about. In school."

Vince leaned on one elbow, looking down at Stuart's face. "Christ, you really want to!" he said.

Nodding, Stuart said softly, "Please."

And Vince answered him with a long, lingering kiss. Then he said, "You know, it was about time you asked me and meant for me to say 'yes'."

Stuart merely smiled. He'd always meant it.