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“Wait! Why am I second on that list?” Tristan complained, setting the bags down on the table.
Leo gave him a sheepish look. “I promise you’re my favourite, but I’m also really hungry. I’ve been looking at figures from the shop all afternoon, and I forgot to eat.”
Tristan took the time to give Leo a quick kiss before he pulled out two plates and started dishing up the takeaway. “Does that mean you finally talked to Jimmy’s accountant?”
“Not exactly. We keep playing phone tag. But he emailed me the figures for the past few months. There’s so much money in sex!”
Tristan laughed. “Of course there is!”
“Pretty sure my parents haven’t figured out just how lucrative the shop is.”
Tristan raised his eyebrows. “Would it make a difference if they knew?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Leo said. He shrugged. “And you know what? I don’t want them to know how well the shop does. If they have a change of heart, I don’t want it to be about the money. So as far as I’m concerned, it’s none of their business.”
Tristan didn’t like how Leo looked so tired when he said that, as though he couldn’t even summon up the energy to be angry at his parents anymore. And Tristan got it—at least in theory. Sometimes all a person could do was step back from a messy situation.
He ignored the plates for a moment and tugged Leo into an embrace. He hugged him until he felt his shoulders slump and the tension leave him. “I’m sorry you’re having a rough day, Leo.”
“It’s better now you’re here,” Leo said, and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“Well, of course it is,” Tristan agreed, releasing him at last. “I bring joy and happiness wherever I go. It’s my superpower.”
Leo’s eyes sparkled. “Don’t forget your modesty.”
“Also a superpower,” Tristan said with a grin.
Leo was much chattier, and much happier, by the time they sat down to eat, and Tristan felt a swell of pride at having contributed to the lift in his mood. And something more than pride too—protectiveness? He was having a Spider-Man moment, realising that with the great power of influencing how Leo felt came the great responsibility of not fucking it up.
“So, tell me everything about yourself,” he said around a mouthful of naan.
Leo blinked at him. “What?”
“Leo Fisher one-oh-one.”
“I think you already know everything.”
Tristan hummed. “I know some things. But I want to know all the things. I want to know who your favourite teacher was. I want to know your first dog’s name. Your favourite colour. I want to know exactly where you grew up. All the little things that came together to make you you, I want to know.”
“Really? Because it sounds like you’re trying to crack the security questions on my internet banking.”
“I’m trying to get to know you better!” Tristan narrowed his eyes. “I’d make an excellent conman, by the way.”
“Oh, I wasn’t disparaging your conman skills,” Leo said, putting his fork down to show Tristan his palms. His mouth twitched. “Much.”
“If I were a cold war spy, I’d totally be a honeypot,” Tristan said. “I’d be so good at pillow talk. You’d spill your guts on those nuclear codes in minutes, because I am amazing at sex.”
“You—” Leo snorted and shook his head. “Yeah, no, you’re totally right. I would fold in a heartbeat.”
“Worth it, though,” Tristan said, “since you get to tap this.”
“Oh, I would have no regrets at all, even if the world exploded.”
“I’d keep you warm in the ensuing nuclear winter, baby.”
Leo wrinkled his nose. “To be clear, you’re a bad spy in this scenario, right? You not only took my nuclear codes, but you used them, too?”
Tristan rolled his eyes. “You can’t give me something and tell me not to use it, Leo. It’s like that marshmallow experiment with toddlers. The marshmallow is right there. What are they supposed to do? There is literally no point in having a marshmallow if you can’t eat it.”
