“Exactly! Yet I’ve been told that by eating the same breakfast every day, I am ‘too rigid.’ What they don’t understand is that having the same thing for breakfast starts my day off consistently. I know every day what I’m going to wear and what I’m going to eat for breakfast, and that is comforting when the rest of my life is wholly unpredictable.”
Felipe might not have worn or eaten the same thing every day, but he understood needing that security. He knew how it felt to be miles from home and clinging to the routines that anchored you or the feeling of returning after a long trip and yearning for the familiar constants of your bed, your house, your people. Felipe could go weeks or months before the absence of those things chafed while Oliver needed them daily to feel secure.
“For what it’s worth, I haven’t found you difficult these past few days. You’ve actually been far more accommodating than I expected.”
Oliver scoffed into his coffee. “It’s only been two days.”
“But a very weird two days. You easily could have dug your heels in and said no to going out for Chinese food or having dinner with Louisa and Agatha, but you didn’t.”
“You’ve also met me halfway each time. I asked if we could go somewhere quiet, and you found a place. Then, I asked to go to the library and take a nap before we visited your wife’s house, and you agreed.”
“None of those things were a problem for me.”
“For some people, they would be. They want nothing less than full compliance and get mad when I can’t give it. Or I give it but pay for it later. Every action has a price, and I can’t always pay it.”
Felipe glanced toward the closed bedroom door. The longer he put this off, the worse it would be. “So I know you have a daily routine that you probably stick to pretty faithfully, but I let you sleep in.”
Oliver’s eyebrows shot up as he put his plate aside and nearly fell out of bed straining to reach his pocket watch on the dresser. Catching his arm before he toppled, Felipe carefully pulled him back onto the mattress.
“You are going to fall, Oliver. It’s only ten-thirty.”
“Only! I am late for work. I am so late. I haven’t been late since—”
Giving his arm a gentle squeeze, Felipe tried to catch Oliver’s panicked gaze. “And you aren’t late now. I already told everyone you would be starting work at noon today because you helped me with the theft at the gallery last night. You went to bed at what time? Three?”
Oliver sighed. “Quarter to four.”
“Then, you certainly made up for the hours you’re missing. Every investigator has done it. They can’t expect us to work all night and come in at eight.”
“I guess.”
“Would you normally have gotten up at six-thirty even if you stayed up all night at a murder scene?”
“Probably. I don’t like being late to work. Honestly, I didn’t know I was allowed to trade time like that. No one ever told me I could.” Falling back against the pillows, Oliver groaned. “I try not to stay up that late, but I started working on the notes and didn’t want to stop. It’s just so nice and quiet in the middle of the night.”
Felipe laughed at the blissful expression on Oliver’s face. Letting himself be drawn closer, Oliver settled under Felipe’s outstretched arm and rested his head against his chest. Felipe tentatively ran his fingers through the soft waves of black hair falling across Oliver’s forehead. Oliver’s eyes flickered shut, and through the tether, Felipe thought he felt a pang of contentment.
“I still can’t believe you let me sleep this late,” Oliver murmured into his waistcoat.
“Well, don’t go back to sleep now. Noon is less than an hour and a half away, and you still have to shave and dress.”
“Then, what do you propose we do with our time? Because I have a few ideas.”
At the warmth in Oliver’s voice, Felipe looked down to find the other man watching him with a mischievous smile. “Are you propositioning me, Dr. Barlow?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Arousal, hot and sweet as mulled wine, sluiced across the tether as Oliver rose to kiss him. One hand cupped Felipe’s cheek as the other undid the buttons of his shirt as slowly and thoroughly as he kissed. In one quick motion, Oliver slipped the shirt from Felipe’s shoulders and swung onto Felipe’s lap. Felipe bit back a moan as Oliver’s growing erection ground into his hip. Pulling back for breath, Oliver’s dove grey eyes met his as his gaze traveled over his features as if truly taking him for the first time.
“You’re beautiful, Felipe.” He ran his fingertips from the curve of his cheekbone to his jaw and swallowed hard. “Do you think we have enough time?”
“Plenty,” Felipe replied, drawing him close once more.
***
As they walked in silenceto the laboratory, Felipe caught Oliver glancing at him with a blush-tinged grin. Felipe tried not to laugh. Two men making eyes at each other was hardly a rare occurrence at the Paranormal Society as magic seemed to go hand-in-hand with being outside the norm, and thank god for that because Oliver didn’t hide his feelings well.Or at all, Felipe mused. How many times before all this had he caught Oliver’s gaze lingering on him a moment too long? He didn’t know how there had ever been a question in his mind about Oliver Barlow’s feelings toward him.
