“Feelings? No. No feelings,” Wick says, shoving his hands in his pockets, rocking back, nearly losing his balance.
“God, you’re frustrating,” Joaquin says, pushing past me. He grabs Wick in a searing kiss, and…damn. That’s…yeah. I’d like to have that in my life.
They separate, and Wick has a glazed look in his eyes. Joaquin kisses his nose. “So what’s it going to be?”
“This is a terrible idea.”
“Or maybe one whose time has come.”
He shakes his head vehemently, nearly losing his balance again. “No. My brother’s been a mess ever since Destry’s near relapse. Probably going to have to do his own day program. Even when it's supposed to be good and healthy, love fucks everything up.”
Joaquin extends a gentle hand, cupping Wick’s jaw. “Do you really believe that?”
Wick steps out of his touch. “The three of us have been bachelors for years now. We've all been happy with that life. Why are you trying to give up your freedom?”
“Why are you running away from affection? Why are you running away from the possibility of love?” Joaquin asks. “Enjoying the single life does not preclude one from enjoying a relationship when one presents itself. Freedom should include the freedom to change one’s mind, no?”
Warwick's face crumples and tears immediately begin streaming down his face. Joaquin goes in for a hug, and Warwick pushes him away.
“No. Stay the fuck away from me.”
“Wick. Cariño. Why are you so upset? If you don't want to be in a relationship, we don't have to be in a relationship. But please, tell me. What is happening in your head?”
“If you two are in a relationship, where does that leave me?”
“Free to do whatever it is you want to do.”
“What if it turns out that I want to do…that what I…what I want to do isyou?” he says, tripping on some of the words as he sloppily gestures at the two of us.
“Then we are here for you. But only if you’re willing to be serious,” Joaquin says, grabbing my hand. “Colt and I are too emotionally invested for these one-off scenarios. It hurts us too much.”
“And so you, what? Want us to be together? All of us?”
“Yes, Wick. Why is that so hard to imagine?” Joaquin asks, his voice softening.
“Because it sounds like…” he says, pausing to breathe, “like a double heartbreak just waiting to happen. What if we all…I dunno. Fall in love with one another, and then one of us doesn't want it?”
Joaquin tilts his head, narrowing his eyes at Wick. “What do you think Colt and I are dealing with right now?”
Wick’s expression is pure pain. Joaquin reaches out to grab his arm, and Wick lets him.
“I can’t lie, Wick. It hurts not having you with us. We’re navigating it together, and it breaks our hearts, but we’re determined to wait for you.”
Wick sways toward us, and my heart squeezes in my chest. Maybe? Maybe he can…no.
He pulls away from Joaquin’s touch, tripping over his own feet. He falls in slow-motion, hitting his chin on the counter with a sickening crunch before crumpling to the floor, cursing as blood pours from his chin.
“Wick.” I fall to my knees, reaching out for him, but he pushes me away.
Joaquin joins us on the floor, quiet as Wick brings his hands to his chin, his eyes wide with fear. Placing a gentle hand on his back and speaking in a voice far calmer than I could have ever managed, he asks, “Warwick, love, is anything broken?”
After a heart-stopping hesitation, Wick opens and shuts his mouth, and everything seems to be in order. No broken teeth. Not even a split lip or bitten tongue, and I’m hopeful that maybe it looks worse than it is.
Joaquin and I breathe a sigh of relief. I push the hair from Wick’s forehead. “It’ll be okay, Wick. You probably just need stitches.”
His eyes go even wider. “No st-stitches,” he says, sitting upright far too quickly. He sways, dizzy. He goes to all fours, heaving the air in and out of his lungs. He holds up a hand. “No stitches,” he says with more conviction.
Calmly, Joaquin removes Wick’s T-shirt, which is already ruined, and holds it up to his chin. Shifting, Joaquin sits against the wall, holding Warwick in his arms like a baby, putting pressure on the wound.
