Gage peered over Fallon’s shoulder. “Leftovers?”
“I didn’t fuck them up,” he promised, holding up his hand like a Boy Scout.
Gage groaned and kissed him again. “I wouldn’t care if you did. I’m starving, and if I see another fucking pizza, I am going to throw myself into the ocean.” He took Fallon’s hand and kissed his wrist before tugging him to the living room. “I showered at the station, so are you cool if I get comfy, or do I smell weird?”
“You smell like station soap,” Fallon answered. It was a little weird, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant.
Gage settled on the cushions in front of the couch, his legs poking out beneath the coffee table, and he pulled his plate close, shoving a massive bite of chicken into his mouth. “Oh my God, it tastes fresh.”
“Lucas helped,” Fallon admitted as he settled down. He had a much smaller portion. He’d been feeling a little sick all day, but he knew he needed to eat.
Gage straightened. “Oh shit. Is he here?”
Fallon snorted. “No. I called him. Actually, I went to see him at his food truck. I…” He bit his lip. He’d done what only seemed natural, but now he realized it might be considered a faux pas when it came to relationships.
He was used to fucking up, of course. With Charlie, he fucked up constantly, and Charlie never let him forget it.
He knew Gage wouldn’t be so cruel, but he also wanted to get it right for once.
Gage set his fork down and touched Fallon’s jaw. “What’s wrong?”
He took a breath. “I’ve been worried about you. I know—ah.” He tried to find the right words. His fingers rolled and unrolled the hem of his shirt. Up and down, up and down, the repetition keeping him calm. Gage waited patiently for him to speak. “I talked to him about you.”
Gage’s brow was furrowed as he stared at Fallon, and the more he stared, the more Fallon felt like squirming. Or, if hewas being honest, getting up and running out of the room. Then Gage let out a small breath and laughed. “Wait, is that it?”
“I…well. Yes?” Fallon answered.
Gage sighed heavily and put his plate on the table, opening his arms for Fallon, who dropped into them with a punch of relief so intense, he felt a bit nauseous. Gage’s arms were tight and just shy of being too much. Before Fallon could say something though, Gage loosened his grip just enough to make it perfect.
“You’re allowed to talk to people about me if you’re feeling some type of way, sweetheart.”
Fallon closed his eyes against that word. So common, yet it felt so personal. Like it had been created just for him.
“And I’m sorry that I’ve been making you worried. How can I fix it?”
“No,” Fallon murmured against the front of Gage’s shirt. He turned his head but didn’t look up. Instead, he stared at where Gage’s fingers were drawing lines against his arm. “No. You don’t need to fix anything. I was afraid maybe all of this—with me—was too much. And that was why you never brought me around your family or…or something.”
“Oh. Oh baby, no,” Gage said, tightening his grip again. “Oh God, please don’t think I?—”
“I don’t,” Fallon interrupted, then tilted his head up. “I don’t think that. Lucas told me your family can be a lot, which would be hard for me. And I know our situation is complicated.”
“It’s not that complicated,” Gage said softly. He leaned back and brushed his fingers through Fallon’s hair. “And even if it was, that wouldn’t stop me. But you’ve been under a lot of stress, and even if I tell them not to bring shit up, someone will. Not on purpose, but they tend to be in each other’s businesses like it’s their job, and I wanted to enjoy our quiet time togetherfor a little while before inviting in all that chaos. I don’t ever want you to think I was hiding you away.”
Fallon shook his head and bit his lip. He wanted more contact. He wanted to be more comfortable. “Can we lay down?”
Gage immediately stood up and pulled Fallon to his feet. He arranged their little couch nest just the way Fallon liked, then lay down and made his body like the big spoon. Fallon dropped easily against him, facing him so their legs wrapped around each other, and Gage could lean over and kiss his forehead.
Which he did. Immediately.
That was Fallon’s favorite thing.
“Talk to me,” Gage said.
Licking his lips, Fallon’s gaze moved to the cut of Gage’s jaw. It was slightly stubbled. One more day and it would be unbearable, but three more days after that and it would be soft and fun to run his fingers over. Then he looked up at his cheekbones. They were sharp, but his face had the look of someone who had chubby cheeks when he was little.
Fallon wanted to see photos of little Gage. He’d seen a few of him in middle school that Gage had on his phone. His hair had been a little longer, and the slight wave to it was straighter back then. He was also more pale from never being outside, which had definitely changed since working at the station.
But Fallon knew he would have crushed on him if they’d been in the same grade. Badly. He would have been the awkward nerd in the hallway, following Gage around a hundred feet away, too terrified to ever say a word to him.
