All in all, it would’ve been a spectacle, one Danai had told them all to avoid, which was why they’d come here. Emma and Leon were back at their place, trying to stay under the radar while keeping an eye on PreterWorld and other social media sites to see what sides people were taking. Jono didn’t envy them that job.
Between fielding calls from the packs under their protection, Jono had cooked up supper, but not knowing when Patrick would arrive meant everything was covered and staying warm in the oven. Jono went into the kitchen to check on the food again to make sure it wouldn’t get too dried out. He was in the process of pulling bread out of the cupboard when the background sound of the crowd on the street changed pitch. He dropped the bread on the counter and left the kitchen.
Sage had abandoned her laptop for the window, peering through the blinds at the street below. “He’s here.”
Jono wanted to run downstairs and clear Patrick a space through the reporters, but Sage had impressed on him earlier the need to keep a low profile. He opened the front door of the flat and waited, nearly breaking the doorknob in his impatience.
Patrick’s heartbeat filled his ears, and Jono’s shoulders loosened when he got the first breath of that familiar bitter scent. Then Patrick rounded the bottom landing, still in the suit from earlier, a plastic bag containing the clothes and shoes he’d been arrested in clutched in one hand.
“Pat,” Jono said, staring at him.
The naked relief in Patrick’s tired face was all it took for Jono to meet him halfway, stopping in the middle of the stairs to drag him into a tight hug. Patrick dropped the bag on the step he stood on, tucking his face against Jono’s shoulder and letting out a deep, shuddering breath. Jono buried his nose into Patrick’s dark red hair, smelling harsh soap and a multitude of other scents that had embedded themselves into freckled skin where they didn’t belong.
Patrick’s grip on his shirt was tight enough to stretch the fabric, but Jono didn’t care. All he cared about was getting to hold the man he loved and never wanting to let go.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” Patrick mumbled into his skin, trying to get closer.
Jono pressed a hard kiss to his skull before taking a deep breath. “Couldn’t sleep without you.”
Patrick laughed, the sound choked out and shaky. His fingers dug into Jono’s back before finally easing up. He shifted on the step, missing the edge, his weight tipping backward. Jono tightened his arms to keep Patrick from falling.
“Made you dinner,” Jono said, brushing a kiss against Patrick’s cheek.
Patrick pulled back enough that Jono could see his face and the shadows under his eyes. “Prison food is gross.”
“I told you,” Wade said from their flat’s landing. “You should’ve let me break him out.”
Patrick laughed tiredly, and Jono kissed the sound away. Patrick let him, one hand cupping Jono’s stubbled jaw.
“You need a shave,” Patrick murmured.
“You need a kip.” Jono bent down to retrieve the plastic bag with the clothes and shoes. “Is Danai coming up?”
“No. We’re meeting with her tomorrow though. Setsuna is flying down in the morning for it.”
Jono maneuvered Patrick around in the stairwell, urging him to climb with a hand to his lower back. Patrick made it to the landing, and Wade didn’t wait any longer before hugging him and lifting him off his feet.
“Put me down,” Patrick grumbled, but he still hugged Wade back.
“Next time, I’m breaking you out,” Wade promised.
“Here’s hoping there won’tbea next time,” Sage said. “Let Patrick get inside so we can feed him.”
Wade released Patrick, and they all returned to the flat. Jono locked the door behind them, and the scent of Patrick’s magic filled the air as he cast a silence ward. Quiet followed a burst of static, blocking out the world. Jono sighed, pleased to have the flat put to rights again.
“I need a shower,” Patrick said, rubbing at his eyes.
Sage wrapped her arms around him and hugged him, rubbing his back for a few seconds. Then she released him and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “Go shower. We’ll get dinner ready.”
She didn’t scent mark him, but Jono knew she wasn’t the only one itching to press their pack scent back into Patrick’s skin. He didn’t smell like any of them anymore, only where he’d been—prison.
Jono and Sage worked on getting dinner out of the oven, reheated where needed in the microwave or stove, and set up on the dining table. They only had four chairs, so Wade grabbed the one from Patrick’s desk in the guest bedroom. It was a tight fit, but Jono almost preferred that after rattling around the flat alone for the past day or so.
Patrick finally came out, smelling like the soap and shampoo he used, the harshness from before washed away. Jono spent a good solid minute pressing his scent into Patrick’s skin, and then it was Sage’s turn. Between the two of them, they covered Patrick in pack scent, erasing the memory of its absence.
“You done?” Patrick asked, but a smile tugged at his mouth.
Jono kissed it away. “For now.”
