by Anna Martin
“Yeah?”
“I’m not bottoming for you,” he laughed.
“Oh. Oh.”
“Yeah.” Leo cupped Jackson’s cheek in his palm, then brought their faces together for another kiss. “Another time.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Leo said, still grinning. “I want to have sex with you. You just need to learn to pick your moments.”
Jackson kissed him again. Then again. “Something else, then?”
Leo laughed. “Not tonight. I’m so tired.”
“Okay.” Jackson gave him one last kiss, then backed off. “Do you want to shower tonight or in the morning?”
“Ugh.” Leo dropped his forehead to Jackson’s chest. “Morning, please.”
“No worries. You wanna go upstairs and chill for a while?”
“Isn’t it, like, ridiculously early for you?”
Jackson shrugged. “I don’t mind.”
“Then yes. Please.”
“Go on up, I’ll lock up down here. Help yourself to anything.”
Leo tugged on Jackson’s T-shirt affectionately, then disappeared upstairs.
Jackson took his time clearing up around the first floor, making sure everything was turned off and the front door was locked before he followed Leo. The condo was dark now, and he wasn’t yet familiar enough with the place to be able to feel his way around blind. The moonlight coming in through the hallway window was just enough to see by, though, and when he got to the top of the stairs, light spilled out of the bedroom.
Jackson had bought a new bed for his new bedroom at the condo. The one from the house needed to be replaced anyway, and it wouldn’t have fit in with the décor of the condo. This bed was huge, an oak-framed monstrosity that Jackson adored. Now, with Leo tucked into it, Jackson thought it was pretty much perfect.
Leo’s hair was a little damp, probably from where he’d washed his face. He was curled up on his side, facing the door.
“I won’t be a minute,” Jackson said, finding his voice thick. Something about the sight of his soul mate in his bed seemed to be affecting him.
“I stole a pair of your boxers.”
“Oh. That’s okay.”
Leo threw back the comforter. “The ones with the kisses on them.”
Jackson laughed and felt his cheeks heat. “My mom bought them for me for Christmas.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
He ducked into the bathroom before he could say anything even more incriminating.
It didn’t take long to go through his nighttime routine. Then he went back to the bedroom and closed both doors. Even when he lived alone, he liked having the doors closed when he went to sleep.
“Do you want to put a movie on or something?” Leo asked.
His eyes were already closed, and he looked exhausted. Jackson crawled into bed behind him and carefully pulled Leo into his arms.
“No. This is good.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Lights off,” Jackson said, and the room went dark.
Leo sat bolt upright. “What the hell?”
“Lights on.” The two lamps, one on each nightstand, came back on. “I set up voice controls.”
“For everything?” Leo asked. Jackson tugged him back down.
“Nah. Just in here. I wasn’t sure if it would work but thought it would be fun to try.”
“That’s so cool. Can I do it?”
“Sure,” Jackson said with a laugh.
“Lights off. Oh wow.”
“Come here.” Jackson gently pulled Leo back into his arms and spooned up behind him. “Is this okay?”
“Yeah.”
He fumbled for the edge of Leo’s—well, his—T-shirt and pressed his hand flat against Leo’s belly, then kissed his shoulder.
“Good night,” Leo yawned.
Leo fell asleep quickly. Jackson envied that. He drifted for a while, letting himself become familiar with the weight of Leo in his arms. In these quiet moments when there was nothing else around, Jackson knew he was a compass and Leo was due north. This was right in a way Jackson couldn’t explain and was scared to even try.
He buried his nose in the back of Leo’s neck and breathed him in.
As he got over his inhibitions, one by one, the little things about Leo started to make more sense. All the ways they fit together as lovers, as people.
“You’re not wrong,” Jackson whispered into the dark. “You’re mine, and you’re perfect.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
THOUGH JACKSON had made a start in making his condo look like a place where real people lived, it still needed work before Leo agreed to move in full-time. Jackson had gotten as far as a new couch, new bed, office furniture… and that was about it. Some rooms were totally unfurnished, others had boxes stashed in them, and it had been weeks since Jackson moved in.
On a cold Saturday in March, Leo decided to take charge.
“Come on, we’re going shopping.”
He’d just arrived at the condo, letting himself in—Jackson had given him a key, apparently they weren’t making a big deal of it—and Jackson was eating cereal while sitting on the couch in his underwear. Playing video games. It was a wonder this man was considered an adult by some societies. There was an open can of Mountain Dew at his elbow.
Jackson paused with his spoon halfway to his mouth. “What?”
Leo continued to glare. “Jackson Lewis. We have discussed this.”
“What?” Jackson stuck the spoon in his mouth, like it could save him.
“Mountain Dew is not a breakfast food!” Leo yelled.
“Um, okay,” Jackson said. He drank the rest of the milk from the cereal bowl, slurping it.
Leo bit his cheek to stop himself from making the sort of barbed comment Mitch would be proud of.
After Jackson dumped the bowl on the coffee table, he looked up at Leo again. “What? Where are we going? What are we going shopping for?”
“For furniture, Jackson,” Leo said. “Furniture.”
Jackson looked around. “I have furniture.”
Leo counted to ten in his head. “Not enough.”
Jackson scratched his belly. “Oh. Okay.”
“Go get dressed.”
When Jackson passed Leo in the doorway, he leaned down, squeezed Leo’s ass, and gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek.
“Yeah, yeah,” Leo muttered, and went to put Jackson’s dirty dishes in the dishwasher. He wasn’t going to make a habit of clearing up after Jackson. Some things he just couldn’t ignore, though.
They headed to one of the nicer malls with the independent furniture stores, as well as Sears and a Pottery Barn. Jackson seemed content to wander around, offering an opinion when he was asked for one.
“Do you have a dining table?”
“I did. But a couple of the legs broke when I was moving up here. So I donated it to that place that fixes up old furniture and gives it to low-income families.”
Leo sighed. Despite his grumpy hermit attitude, Jackson was a total softie underneath. It made it difficult to get mad at him.
“Okay. You need a new dining table.”
“Yeah, I know. I just haven’t found one I like yet.”
“Have you looked?”
Jackson made a face. “No,” he said petulantly.
Leo slipped his hand into Jackson’s and squeezed. “Do you want to buy one or get your dad to make one for you?”
“He’s doing a lot of work for the bar at the moment. I don’t really think he’s got time to take on another project.”
“Will he get upset if you buy something?”
“No. He’s not like that. They want you to come over for dinner one night, by the way. They’ve actually been nagging me about it for ages.”
Leo’s jaw dropped a little, and then he laughed. “My parents want to meet you too.”
“Maybe, when I have a nice dining table, we could invite them all over for dinner. Everyone can meet everyone else at the same tim
e.”
“You have to be kidding.” Leo’s eyes widened, horrified at the idea of throwing his parents into a dinner with three werewolves. It would be carnage.
“Of course I’m kidding,” Jackson laughed and nudged his shoulder against Leo’s. “We’ll work out something more casual, hmm?”
“Don’t scare me like that.”
Jackson laughed again and squeezed Leo’s hand.
The first table Jackson picked out was a glossy black deal, with matching chairs in silver upholstery. Leo rolled his shoulders and found the inner calm he used when working with difficult young children.
“This isn’t going to match your apartment,” he said gently.
“It’s black.” Jackson frowned at him. “Black matches everything.”
“Not the color, the style. Think about it.”
“Black matches everything,” Jackson repeated stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Everything in your place is raw. Bare brick walls, wood floors, all that industrial lighting. This doesn’t match.”
Jackson blinked. “Really?”
“I worry about you,” Leo said, reaching up to touch his cheek. “I really do.”
“Shut up,” Jackson said with a little laugh. “I like buying furniture. I’m good at it.”
“How about,” Leo said, taking Jackson’s hand and leading him over to a different section of the store while resolutely ignoring that last comment, “something like this.”
It was a wide square table, unusual for its shape. Leo thought it might be oak or some other light wood, and the legs were dark brushed metal.
“Oh,” Jackson said. Then, “I like that.”
“Me too. It’s cheaper than the black one too.”
“Okay. We’ll get this.”
With some more gentle coaxing, Leo managed to get Jackson to pick a couple of low, comfy armchairs upholstered in gray tartan and a wide bookcase for the living room, as well as a standing lamp and a few table lamps in bright colors. It was a good start. All the big pieces of furniture would be delivered the following week.
In Pottery Barn, Leo convinced Jackson to buy a set of copper pans that would look really awesome hung up in the kitchen. He also bought a sofa bed for the spare bedroom in case anyone wanted to come stay. He didn’t quite have the same amount of space for friends to sleep over as he did before, but the sofa bed was a good start.
“Coffee break,” Jackson whined when they were done packing all the first round of stuff back into the car. “This is hard.”
“You’re such a kid.”
Leo was surprised and pleased when Jackson took his hand to walk back through the mall. He was seldom affectionate in public, but the little touches and affectionate smiles were enough. Leo wasn’t big on PDA himself. He could get used to holding hands, though.
In the center of the mall was a baby grand piano, there to advertise a new music store that was opening up. Jackson stopped in his tracks, and a wicked smile spread over his face.
“You should play something,” he said, elbowing Leo in the ribs.
“I don’t think so.”
“I’ve never heard you play anything. Not even your guitar.”
“I’m not a big fan of performing in public,” Leo said. He squirmed at the thought. “I’ll bring the guitar over, I promise.”
“Just a little thing,” Jackson said, wheedling. “For me. Please.”
“Okay. Fine.”
Leo cracked his knuckles and stepped up to the piano. At least it wasn’t on a podium.
There was sheet music for different pieces stacked on the music stand, and Leo flicked through them quickly, not finding anything he liked.
“Any requests?” he asked Jackson.
“Anything.”
Leo thought for a few moments, testing out a few chords, then started one of his favorite pieces. This was one of the last things his old piano teacher had taught him before he moved away to college and time for things like piano lessons completely disappeared. He was still in touch with Ms. Jameson, whose fingers were now so crippled with arthritis she couldn’t play anymore.
He was aware of Jackson watching him as he closed his eyes and gently rocked with the music, pleased with the acoustics of this part of the mall and the way the music filled the domed ceiling. A few people had stopped to listen, and he turned his attention away from them and back to the keys. He wasn’t being humble when he said he didn’t like playing in front of people. He’d really never been much of a performer.
When he was done, the little audience broke into a smattering of applause and Leo nodded, feeling his cheeks heat.
Jackson threw his arm around Leo’s shoulders and leaned in close to kiss his ear. “You’re amazing,” he murmured softly, too quiet for anyone else to hear.
“Eh. I’m okay.”
They found Starbucks, and Jackson went to get a table while Leo ordered their drinks. When he got back, Jackson was flicking through a magazine and frowning.
“Do you want a piano?”
“What?” Leo put their coffees down on the little table and blinked at Jackson.
“A piano,” Jackson said. He was reading Good Housekeeping with an enthusiasm Leo would never have bet on. Leo kicked his ankle lightly under the table.
“I don’t need a piano,” he said.
“That wasn’t what I asked,” Jackson said mildly. “I asked if you wanted one.”
“I… I’ve never thought about it.”
“There’s space in the entrance hall for one.” He lifted the magazine to show Leo. “Like this.”
“That’s… wow. Dramatic.”
Jackson’s face split into one of those Cheshire-cat grins. “Do you think it’s all a bit Elton John?”
Leo laughed at that; he couldn’t help himself. “If you want to get a baby grand, darling, you should get a baby grand.”
“I’m not sure if there’s any point. I wouldn’t know how to play it. It would only be worthwhile if you wanted one, really.”
“I’m good with my guitar.”
“I couldn’t say. You’ve never played for me.”
“When I finish getting moved in, you’ll hear it all the time. You’ll probably get bored of the sound of it.”
“I can’t imagine that. Are you and Mitch still free next weekend? We can load up my truck with your stuff to bring it over.”
“That sounds good,” Leo said, offering Jackson a small smile.
“Do you ever perform in public?” Jackson asked. He was working up to something, but Leo couldn’t figure out what.
“I’m really not much of a performer,” Leo said. “I can entertain children… but children are fairly easily entertained.”
“I’ve heard they can be the harshest critics.”
“Nah,” Leo said. “A good rendition of ‘Old Macdonald Had a Farm’ and they’re happy. Adults are a much harder audience.”
“You don’t want to play at the bar, then?”
Leo stared at him. “Erm… no?”
“Okay. I thought I’d offer. I’m thinking of having a stage built. But in the corner above the bar, so it doesn’t take up any floor space.”
“A suspended stage?”
“Yeah. Doesn’t that sound cool?”
“That sounds like I’m glad I’m not your architect.”
“Ha-ha.”
Work was underway on what would soon be Jackson’s brewery, and Leo knew he was itching to get back to brewing again. The builders had been taking deliveries for all of the ingredients for Jackson’s beer and the new equipment. Jackson had been sending excited pictures of it to Leo as it arrived. It was super cute.
Leo thought reevaluating the business had probably been good for Jackson. Lone Wolf had become an established brand in the Washington craft beer community, and hearing how they’d rallied around Jackson to help him after the brewery fire had restored a little of Leo’s faith in humanity. Changing up his business model now was allowing him to be creative a
gain, to go back to doing what he loved instead of working to fill orders.
“Are you done?” Jackson asked, startling Leo out of his thoughts.
“Huh?”
“We still have lots and lots more shopping to do.”
Leo laughed. “Yes, we do.”
THE NEXT morning, Leo arrived early and let himself into the apartment while Jackson was still in bed. He’d texted Jackson to say he was on his way over, so it wasn’t going to be a surprise when he showed up. Jackson had said he was still in bed and not moving. Which was fine. Leo had half a plan to go and join him in it.
“Jackson!” Leo yelled from the bottom of the stairs.
“I’m asleep!” he yelled back.
Leo let himself smile as he went into the kitchen to fix breakfast. It was just bagels; he’d toast them and load them up with toppings and call it a job well done. They had done their own things the night before, Jackson helping out at the bar with Adam and Grant since they were short-staffed, and Leo spending a night at Flair, which had recently reopened. It was good, that they could still do these things alone, then come back together to share the lazy morning after.
He piled a plate with the bagels and trudged up the stairs, not entirely sure what state he was going to find Jackson in.
“It’s almost eleven, lazy pants,” he said, leaning against the doorframe.
“I didn’t get in till past four. I helped clean after we closed.”
“Well, in that case… move over.”
“You’re the best,” Jackson said as he made room for Leo.
“Mm-hmm.”
Leo leaned over and kissed Jackson’s jaw, nuzzling at the morning stubble, then put the plate between them.
“Did you have a good night?” Jackson asked before taking a big bite of his cream cheese bagel.
“Yeah, it was okay.” Leo pulled off a burnt crust and nibbled on it. “I was so tired, though. I went home early.”
“Yeah, I saw your text. Were you out with that guy you work with… Enzo?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s cool, right?”
Leo shoulder-checked him gently. “Are you jealous?”
“What? No.” That wasn’t very convincing.
“You’re so cute. We’re colleagues, Jackson. He works in pediatric oncology.”
