by Tia Fielding
Kaos had really started to experiment with makeup only about six months earlier. He’d done some bits and pieces before that, but because of Trev, it had been rough. He hadn’t been together with Trev anymore, but seeing him at work and the general mindset that makeup was wrong somehow had made him hesitant.
None of his clients had minded—in fact, he’d gotten compliments—but then one evening he’d been there to close when Trev had come in to fetch something he’d forgotten at work, and…. Kaos forced himself to breathe in slowly and blinked rapidly. No, he wouldn’t ruin a perfectly good set of false lashes and cat eye eyeliner for that piece of shit, dammit!
He hit Play again and watched another couple of minutes of the tutorial before continuing the application of lip liner. The colors he was using were pretty neutral—he didn’t feel brave enough for anything more. His skin color and blond hair went nice with the gold and brown tones he’d chosen for the eye shadow. He’d also read somewhere that hazel eyes were supposedly nice enough to hold their own, so he didn’t do much to his lips, just some slightly rosy color and he was pretty much done.
He was just adding lip gloss on his lips when both he and Hestia startled at the doorbell ringing. Hestia barked madly as she bounced off the couch and ran to the door. Kaos, on the other hand, trembled with fear. Had Trev found him somehow? Was he coming to punish him for the makeup?
The bell rang again.
Holding on to the furniture and then the wall, he went to a spot where he wouldn’t be seen from the front yard even if someone looked through the windows and peered at the door. There was a little window in the door, and he could see what was definitely a white man behind it.
The bell rang again, and Hestia continued to bark and jump in agitation. For the puppy’s sake, Kaos gathered himself and grabbed the dog, then opened the door with a shaking hand.
The man outside was around Padraig’s age, with piercing blue eyes and a very handsome face. “Oh!” he said, looking at Kaos, from his bare toes to his leggings, tunic, makeup, and pinned-back hair. “Darling, you look gorgeous. You must be Kaos?”
Kaos blinked in confusion and nodded slowly. “Uh… yes.”
Hestia whined then, making the man concentrate on her for a moment.
“Now you I don’t know. So you must be new.”
“Her name is Hestia. We just got her yesterday.”
Something thoughtful flashed in the man’s expression, but then he smiled at Kaos. “I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce myself! I’m Francis, one of Padraig’s oldest friends. He calls me Fran most of the time.” Francis extended a hand to shake, and Kaos couldn’t hide the tremble of his own when he took it.
“Hi,” he managed to say before pulling away, ashamed.
“Oh, honey, did I startle you? I think Padraig said this is new to you still.” Francis gestured at his appearance.
“I… yeah.” Hestia squirmed and wanted to be let down, so Kaos managed to gather his wits. “Come in?” He backed away and let Francis step inside with his bag, which Kaos hadn’t noticed before. Kaos put the puppy on the floor, and she sniffed at Francis, making him chuckle and kneel to greet her better. Plus points for that, for sure.
“I take it Padraig’s at work?” Francis asked, glancing at him while showering Hestia with attention.
“Y-yeah, until about five, I think. Unless emergencies.”
“I’m sorry I showed up like this. I didn’t want to give him a reason to tell me not to come. Though he wouldn’t really have done that, of course,” Francis drawled, getting up. “He would’ve hinted very heavily at it not being a good time, and I would’ve had to tell him to fuck off, really.”
Kaos couldn’t help but to laugh. It sounded like something Padraig would do. “I need to clean up….” He gestured toward the living room, where his makeup was still spread over every surface.
“Oh, please don’t on my account, if you were in the middle of something?”
Kaos looked at him, waiting for some sort of a sneer or a barbed comment to follow the sense of false security. He’d tensed and shrunk somehow without noticing, but Francis seemed to be in tune with that sort of thing, because he immediately walked to the other side of the living room and sat in the armchair, then lifted Hestia onto his lap.
“I-if you’re sure?” Kaos managed to stutter out.
“Look, I’m a nurse. I see a lot of shit in my work, so I’m going to be blunt with you, Kaos.” Francis smiled at him kindly, yet with such strength in his gaze that it felt like Kaos was supported by his presence alone. “If I was to hazard a guess, I’d say someone hurt you because you like makeup. You were pale and shaking when you got to the door, honey. I can see something bad happened to you.” Francis’s tone was nothing but gentle, and Kaos felt surprised at the fact that it actually let him relax gradually.
He nodded quietly and sat on the couch, then grabbed a makeup palette off the coffee table and fiddled with it to calm himself further. “I was in an abusive relationship before I came here. Restraining order and all. He beat me for this stuff.”
Francis made an understanding noise in his chair but didn’t move, which Kaos appreciated right then. “I meet a lot of abuse victims at work, even more so in the last five years that I’ve worked at a maternity clinic. It breaks my heart when a pregnant person comes in with bruises and cuts. But I’ve seen a lot of different kinds of people who have been in horrible situations. It’s not unusual for a person who others perceive as male to be the one who is being abused.” Before Kaos had time to react, not that he would’ve, Francis raised the hand that wasn’t holding on to Hestia and added, “I don’t mean to assume your gender or anything, just telling you about my experiences.”
“Oh, I know. And it’s fine. This me is the other part, the one I’m still learning. I look like a guy on most days, and I know abusive same-sex relationships are a bit unacknowledged still.” Kaos frowned and put the palette on the table. “I don’t know why I’m talking to you about this, by the way.”
“I might be a total stranger, but as I said, I’m a nurse. I know how to get people to open up. Or maybe I’m just that charming?” Francis grinned and winked at him, making Kaos chuckle and flush lightly. Was Francis flirting?
“I’ll still take this stuff away to my room if you’ll watch Hestia. I should eat something soon—it’s lunchtime. Have you eaten? Where did you even come from?” Kaos asked as he organized all the makeup into his kit.
“No, not since breakfast. I’m on a bit of a road trip. I live in New Jersey, actually, but I had some vacation time saved and needed to get out of town for a bit, so… here I am?” Francis seemed distinctly uncomfortable for the couple of seconds that the thought of whatever made him want to “get out of town” must’ve crossed his mind, but then he smiled again. “I haven’t been around in a long time. Padraig withdrew from all of his friends after Marcus died. I met them in college.”
New Jersey to northern Wisconsin was two or three days’ trip, depending on how much you wanted to drive. “Well, there are the empty guest rooms up for grabs. I took the biggest one, of course, when I moved in.”
“Obviously. It’s a great room.” Francis chuckled. “I’ll come with you if you’re going up. Does she know how to use the stairs yet?” He nodded toward Hestia, who he’d put on the floor.
“Sort of. We better carry her, though, so she won’t tumble down. I think we need baby gates or something if she doesn’t learn quickly.” Kaos shivered at the thought of her falling down the stairs and hurting herself.
“All right, you lead the way.” Francis gestured, went to pick up his bag, and grabbed Hestia from the step she’d managed to get onto before he got there.
Kaos was halfway up the stairs when he glanced back and saw Hestia trying to lick her new friend to death. He chuckled, happy that she liked Francis. He just wasn’t sure what Padraig’s reaction would be to have him here so suddenly.
Chapter Ten
THE KISS wouldn’t leave his mind all day. P
adraig couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like he wanted to devour someone like that. With Marcus, the love had been there until the end, but the passion had petered out into something occasional, something… comfortable.
Seeing Kaos in his feminine clothing had made Padraig’s stomach clench, first with discomfort and then with something akin to slow-simmering desire. It wasn’t about the clothing, or the femininity or masculinity. It was all about Kaos himself.
And then he’d gotten the call and had to leave. Maybe it was better that way, because what had happened had been scary in its wildness.
That morning when he’d peeked into Kaos’s room and caught a glimpse of how lovely he and Hestia looked curled up together, Padraig had felt a rush of tenderness so powerful, it had knocked the breath out of him for a moment. The way Kaos had just splayed himself on the bed, still mostly asleep, had been…. Padraig shook his head slowly and concentrated on the drive home.
He wasn’t sure how to approach last night’s events with Kaos, or even if he should.
When he got to the house, there was a car he didn’t recognize in the parking space, and he blinked in confusion. Grabbing his bag from the passenger’s seat, he opened the door and got out. He could hear a little bark from inside, clear indication that Hestia had heard the rumble of the Land Rover’s engine. Going up the stairs, still puzzled about who could’ve come to visit, he almost missed the door opening and Hestia dashing out.
“Hey, stop right there, lady!” he told the puppy and scooped her up, awkwardly holding her with one arm while clutching the bag with the other.
She whined and licked his face, which was mildly disgusting but also endearing, because he felt so happy that she’d imprinted on him and Kaos so quickly.
“Hi,” Kaos said quietly from the doorway, and only then did Padraig look up.
Kaos was wearing makeup—a lot of it. Well, maybe not a lot, but more than Padraig had ever seen him wear before.
A weird little sound escaped his throat, and then he had the sense to say, “You look lovely.” The hesitance in Kaos’s gaze turned into shyness.
“Thanks. We have a guest.” He let Padraig and Hestia in and closed the door, then took the bag from Padraig and put it on the end table by the door. “In the kitchen.”
Padraig put Hestia down and kicked off his shoes, then went to look for this mystery guest.
“Evening, Padraig,” an ever-so-familiar voice said from the pantry. Then Francis stepped out and put a few things onto the counter. He looked at Padraig with some hesitation, as if unsure of his welcome.
“Francis.” The word came out in almost a sob, and then they were embracing each other, both crying their eyes out. The mutual grief of losing Marcus burst from them, just like the way they had missed each other did, and all they could do was cling.
A little impatient whine and bark from next to them made them finally separate, chuckling as they wiped their eyes.
“I can see there are some changes,” Francis murmured, and Padraig found himself blushing.
“It’s not—”
“Yes, it is. He’s head over heels for you, and that blush alone tells a story, Paddy. I love you like a brother, and while you might be able to lie to yourself, you can’t lie to me.”
Kaos walked into the kitchen then, having given them time to greet each other. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I think we got some of it out of our systems,” Francis told him, then gestured at the items on the table. “I thought pasta?”
“Great, sounds fine to me. Do you want help?”
“No, you go do your thing, and if I need help, I’ll let you know.”
Kaos smiled. “I’ll be upstairs. I have to check on my emails.” Kaos left, with Hestia following him until Padraig called her back.
“She’s lovely,” Francis said. “So is he, by the way. Such a unique soul, that one.”
Padraig nodded as Francis food-prepped. “I’ll go shower and come keep you company while you cook?”
“Sure.”
“Hey, Fran?” Padraig said quietly, then waited for Francis to look at him. “Thank you. I don’t know why you’re here, but thanks anyway.”
“I’ll tell you all about it later. Maybe with some wine?” Something about Francis’s expression felt off to him, but Padraig didn’t dwell on it yet.
“Okay, works for me.”
HE TOOK Hestia to the bathroom with him, just to amuse her for a while. She was curious about everything, and like he had thought, the shower was no different. She didn’t quite understand how the glass wall worked, though, and kept pawing at it and looking confused.
Padraig laughed at her and almost inhaled some water. “Hey, now, no drowning Daddy, okay, girl?”
She huffed and turned to go tug stuff out of his hamper. Awesome.
He felt oddly calm after getting the first burst of memories and grief out of his system. When Padraig had initially seen Francis there, it had been like a sledgehammer to his heart, a painful and powerful reminder of what he’d once had with Marcus. Padraig, Marcus, and Francis had thousands of memories together ever since they were nineteen or twenty.
He loved Francis like a brother, yet somehow he’d forgotten that in his grief, or maybe his brain had just thought it would be easier to stay away from the memories, even if it meant staying away from Francis as well.
Padraig toweled himself after the shower, then pulled on some comfy clothing and his slippers before going to knock on Kaos’s door with Hestia in tow.
“Yes?” Kaos called, and Padraig opened the door to peek in. Kaos was sitting on his bed with a mirror and a package of wet wipes, cleaning his face.
“I hope you’re not doing that on my account?” Padraig frowned slightly.
“Oh no. Not really. More for comfort’s sake. Dinnertime soon and all that.”
“Okay, good to know. I… I can’t explain how beautiful you are, with or without the makeup, without sounding like a total fool. I….” He shook his head and looked at the floor instead of Kaos.
“Hey, Padraig,” Kaos said, getting off his bed and coming closer. His makeup was mostly gone, but remnants were left behind. “Look at me?”
Padraig did, Kaos’s searching gaze boring into his own.
“Whatever this is, between us, we’re in no rush, right?” Kaos asked quietly. “Neither of us is in a place where we can rush anything. Sure, the sparks might be crazy, but that doesn’t mean we need to jump each other the first chance we get, right?”
Padraig looked at him, trying to gauge if this was rejection or if Kaos was actually telling him the truth. Then again, last night Kaos had kissed Padraig back with passion he had rarely felt from Marcus in the last God-knew-how-many years.
Yet just the fact that he compared them like that should’ve probably told Padraig he wasn’t ready yet.
“Y-yeah,” he stuttered, then cleared his throat. “You’re right. I think I need to talk to Francis about the past. Put all those things to rest. I don’t want to hurt you by not being ready if… if something was to happen here.”
“So we wait. We figure it out. Slowly.” Kaos’s smile was small and wistful, but still genuine.
“Slowly,” Padraig agreed, then gestured over his shoulder. “I’ll go hang out with Francis. Did he say anything about why he’s here?”
Kaos frowned slightly. “No, just that he needed to get out of town because of something. It…. Something about how he said it felt off. So maybe tread carefully?”
“Yeah, okay. Thanks, Kaos.” Padraig called Hestia, and when she came from somewhere deeper in Kaos’s room, she had a striped sock in her teeth. “Hey, you little thief, give Kaos his sock back!”
Kaos managed to catch her before she could escape with her new toy and got the sock from her teeth without much injury to any party. “Go with Daddy, you little monster.” Kaos pushed her into Padraig’s arms, then seemed to realize what he’d just said, blushed, and made an awkward gesture. “I better take the rest
of this stuff off. I’ll be down later.”
“Okay.” Padraig smiled, feeling like he should’ve maybe skipped down the hall toward the stairs instead of walking like the middle-aged man he really was.
“You look happy,” Francis commented when he got to the kitchen.
Padraig went to get some treats for Hestia and thought about it for a while. When he finally sat at the breakfast nook chair and tried to show Hestia how to sit, he had some sort of an answer for Francis.
“I am feeling better. Less… less sad, maybe? More like I don’t have to cling to Marcus in my heart?”
“That’s progress. It’s fine to miss him, Paddy, but it’s been four years. We’ll always love him and miss him, but it can’t stop us from living.” Francis spoke to the bell peppers he was slicing, probably to roast them in the oven, if Padraig remembered anything about Francis’s favorite pasta sauce.
Something about how Francis said the words made Padraig frown in thought. Then it hit him, another sledgehammer to the chest. “You were in love with him too.”
Francis’s smile was a horrible, broken thing. When he looked at Padraig, he nodded. “Even before we met you. Since we were about thirteen, him and I.”
“But Marcus never said anything?” Padraig felt oddly out of balance. He had no idea what to feel, because jealousy in the face of Francis’s obvious distress would’ve been wrong.
“Oh, Marcus never knew.”
“W-what?”
“I never told him. At first, in high school, we were too scared to even think about being gay. Then, in college, he took one look at your scrawny ass and—ta-da!—there you two were!” Francis gestured with a large knife, but he was smiling at the memory, so it couldn’t have been bad, right?
“Francis, I don’t know what—”
“Then say nothing. I don’t even think there’s anything to say. But know this, Padraig,” he said, stopped chopping, and looked at Padraig seriously. “Whenever he hurt you in those last years, it hurt me too. Because he didn’t know what he had, how well he had it. Some of us never found our person, and he did, and he all but threw it away.”
