"Aww, Come on, Big Man!"

The Icon batted his eyes, lifting his brows suggestively. It was his best, most persuasively sexy look, but the big Cowboy wasn't buying.

His dark eyes hadn't flickered with amusement or arousal; in fact, they were still fixed on the table. He hadn't spoken-or moved-since Shawn had asked him the question.

At the thought, he reached out his hand, gently brushing John's cheek. At last, the soulful eyes lifted from the table and the full lips parted under his finger's caress.

"I'm sorry."

Shawn eyes moistened at the soft spoken words.

"It's okay. It will always be okay."

A smile formed against his index finger and John's cheeks lifted against his palm as he spoke.

"Are you sure you want to know?"

At his nodd, John leaned closer, his body crossing over the table as his lips pressed his against Shawn's ear.

His eyes closed, then clenched tight as his hand slowly, lovingly caressed John's hair.

When the soft whispers turned into shallow breaths, Shawn held him and whispered his own loving, understanding words.

"I won't tell. Not a soul, and not ever."

Then, he told his own story.