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“Is that really the same as having nuclear codes and not using them?”
“I don’t know,” Tristan said. “Nobody’s ever given me nuclear codes. And it’s been way too long since I had any marshmallows, too, come to think of it.”
Leo laughed. Tristan loved the little wrinkles that appeared at the corners of his eyes when he did.
He couldn’t remember ever having so much fun with anyone before. Well, fun without sex. Because sex was great, but so were moments like these. Moments where there was no heat, where a conversation wasn’t leading straight to the bedroom, but instead there was warmth and joy in each other’s company. If tonight ended up with them in bed? Fantastic! But if it didn’t? Also genuinely fantastic, because Tristan loved just spending time with Leo and making him laugh by talking shit.
“So, Ambrose and Harry helped me with my outfit for this dinner thing,” he said.
Leo raised his eyebrows. “Is it amazing?”
“I think I can do better,” Tristan said frankly. “I never thought I’d say it, but maybe my wardrobe isn’t up to the job. Because it has to be something good enough to get me past the doorman, but also totally shocking, you know? But I’ll think of something, and it’ll knock their respectable little socks off.”
“Do I get a preview of this outfit?” Leo asked, biting his lip.
Tristan suddenly thought back to his mum’s earlier teasing about weddings, and that weird custom of the groom not getting to look at his bride first, which was weird. Not just the custom, but the idea that some part of his brain was subconsciously making connections between ‘Leo’ and ‘outfit’ and ‘wedding’, and he wasn’t running screaming for the hills. The fact he was casting himself as the bride was a whole other level of weird that he wasn’t looking at right now.
“No,” he said. “I want to surprise you. But if you biting your lip there was an attempt at a sexy-times seduction, sign me the fuck up, and I’ll wear whatever you want.”
“How did you ever get laid when you call it a ‘sexy-times seduction’, though?” Leo laughed.
“It’s because my mouth does more than make silly words.”
Leo blinked. “That’s valid.”
“I’m also really hot.”
“And modest.”
“Yes, we talked about how modest I am before. It’s my superpower, remember?”
“I’m surprised you aren’t classing your dick as a superpower,” Leo grinned.
“Oh, no. No radioactive spiders are getting anywhere near my junk, thanks. What if it doesn’t give me super stamina and makes it shrivel up and fall off instead? It would be a loss to humanity. I’m not prepared to take that risk.”
Leo threw back his head and laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You like me anyway.”
Leo’s smile faded. “I really do.” His smile wavered. “These last few weeks have been crazy, but you’ve been there for me in ways I don’t think you even know are really important. It felt like coming out all over again, almost— figuring out who I am, and who I want to be. And it turns out there’s a whole community out there, and—” He shook his head and swallowed. “Thanks for being the rude hot guy at my great-uncle’s funeral, Tris. Because I wouldn’t be here tonight with you if you hadn’t asked me if I was Uncle Jimmy’s sugar baby. And I wouldn’t have known what I was missing.”
“The sugar baby thing was a genuine foot-in-mouth moment,” Tristan said. “Just so you know, I’m not always a total dick at funerals. But I’m glad my mouth got ahead of my brain that day, too, because meeting you and being with you is the best thing that’s happened to me.”
Leo reached out across the small table and caught his hand. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me, too.”
Chapter Sixteen
Leo was sitting in the tea room at work, eating pre-made chicken casserole that he no longer wanted but was stuck eating for two more days this week because meal planning sucked, when his phone rang. He didn’t recognise the number on the screen but he answered regardless, because Darren had said he’d call him with a date for the renovations to start before the end of the week, and it was already Thursday. It wasn’t Darren on the phone, though.
It was Harry.
“Are you selling the house and kicking us out?” he demanded, slightly out of breath.
“What? No, why?”
Harry’s voice had an edge of panic to it when he said, “Well why is there a real estate guy here demanding to be shown through the property and saying the owner sent him and it’s going on the market?”
“What?” Leo sat bolt upright and dropped his fork into his lunchbox, heedless of the gravy spatters that landed on his work shirt.
