As Nick moves to put the kettle on, Eric stretches and turns to me. “I’m gonna change—kinda cold.”
I nod, just now registering that he’s been basically naked all night.
As he starts to leave, I catch Moon looking between the two of us. The second he realizes I’ve caught him staring, his eyes meet mine.
“Can you tell me what happened?” he asks.
I pull the plastic guard mask off the top of my head, then grab a chair from the kitchen and drag it over. I’m not quite at thesit next to him on the couchlevel yet—whatever civility he’s managed so far doesn’t erase years of bullshit. So I keep a bit of distance, sitting a few feet away.
Then I tell him everything—how I saw him in the booth with the Joker and a bunch of other guys, how the Joker had his arm around him, touching him through his pants. Moon flushes, clearly embarrassed, but I don’t say it to humiliate him. This isn’t payback. I just think he deserves to know. Maybe it’ll help jog his memory—especially if he ends up pressing charges.
As I keep talking, Eric comes back from the guest bedroom in sweatpants and a Centaurs hoodie. He grabs a chair and drags it over, sitting beside me. Maybe he doesn’t even think about it, but just having him close makes me feel steadier.
A minute later, Nick returns, carrying a wooden tray with four mugs of tea. He made one for each of us, which honestly makes sense. After the mess at the club, none of us is really in the mood for anything stronger.
Nick hands out the mugs, then drops back onto the couch. I walk Moon through the rest of what happened, ending with us leaving the club.
When I finish, he looks at me—face still flushed—and says, “Thank you.”
I just nod. He holds my gaze for a second longer, like he’s still processing, then glances at Eric and Nick. “All of you.”
“No problem, man,” Nick says, then adds, “Are you gonna press charges? Please say you are.”
Moon nods. “I will. But I need to talk to my agent first. And my lawyer. And probably my publicist too.”
Eric snorts and throws me a quick look—like, yeah, of course he doesn’t just have an agent, but a full legal-slash-PR squad lined up for stuff like this.
I don’t say anything, but I doubt he’ll actually go through with it. Admitting he was at a gay club, possibly looking for a hookup and ending up roofied, would be a PR nightmare—and he knows it. The risk’s too big for someone like him, probably not even out to his team—let alone the fans.
We sit in silence for a few minutes, sipping our tea. Then Moon clears his throat.
“I’ll finish my tea and head out,” he says.
“Do you remember your address now?” Eric asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” Moon says, taking another sip.
“You sure?” Nick says, squinting at him.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got it saved in the app,” Moon replies, offering him a faint smile.
God, this is bizarre.
“You should still stay here tonight,” Nick says. “After whatever that guy slipped you, I don’t think you should be alone.”
Moon blinks, like the offer caught him off guard. “Thanks,” he says. “But I think I’m okay.”
Nobody argues, even though I can tell Nick still doesn’t love the idea of letting him go off alone. Honestly, I agree—it’s probably a bad idea, but I don’t say anything.
We finish our tea in silence. Then Moon pulls out his phone to order a ride.
Ten minutes later, he’s lingering awkwardly near the edge of the living room, waiting for the car to pull up.
“The taxi’s here,” he says after a moment, and all three of us follow him into the hallway.
Moon glances at each of us. “Thanks again.”
Nick nods and offers his hand. Moon shakes it, then turns to Eric and me and does the same. Then Nick unlocks the front door—and just as Moon steps over the threshold, he pauses and turns to me.
