Heat messed up Theo’s vision.“Are youfuckingserious!”he yelled, turning on Peter.“You think you can leave me with fruit salad while Carl is watching me?”
Carl paled.He held up his hands defensively.“I—platonically.Very, very platonically.And professionally.”
Theo couldn’t really see Peter’s face.He wiped his eyes, remembered a moment too late that he’d powdered his nose and that all that was pretty much useless now.
Peter exhaled sharply.“Dearest—”
“Don’t youfuckingdare, Peter!How could you!?How could you call me like that and—who was going to make my coffee, huh?You think you can just fucking start with all the weird ‘oh, take a sweater’stuff and then vanish on me?You—you only just installed—the heating—in the basement.”
Theo’s breath was hitching.A part of him knew that it was panicky breathing, and another part informed him that he was embarrassing himself, a lot, and would pay for that down the line, but he was in it.He couldn’t step out of himself and stop, he had to go through it.
“Dearest Theodore.”
Peter hugged him tight, and that was that.It was as if a dam was breaking, through and out of Theo.He hated it.He hated it so much.He hated that Peter was holding him in his arms, making cooing noises, pressing Theo’s head against his chest.
“You scared him, Peter,” Theo heard Celeste say.She didn’t sound happy.
“Would some cake soothe the poor thing?Well, or maybe he’s fine.You find yourself someone who will hold you like that, I posit you are fine.Gertrude!Help the madame with the tea, I beg of you, then guard the Fae.”
Theo looked up at that.His vision was blurry, but he could see the Fae all right, Mr.Oil Spill Hair and Purple Eyes himself, Cloudtree something or other.He looked right in Theo’s eyes.
“I—I thought for certain that you were thralled, young fitz-mage.”
Another newcomer, pink-haired and dressed half steampunk, half indie designer, made a threatening, guttural sound.“One: we don’t call people that here.We say they have Elven heritage or that they’re human with some Elven magic mixed in.Two: he isn’t that.Can’t you tell?Don’t answer that, I actually don’t care.Gertrude!I changed my mind.Make him help out downstairs or something.”He fake sniffled.“I need a break.Today was stressful.Madame Celeste, your hospitality is like a balm.”
A hand on the back of his head pulled Theo’s focus away.
“I’m sorry I worried you.”
Theo clenched a fistful of Peter’s fancy suit.“You just fucking hung up on me.And you—you just showed up at school.”
“To see you.But you’d already run from danger.I’m so proud of you, belov—Theodore.I am so very proud of you.You’ve done so well.”
Theo snorted, his nose stuffy.“Not going to do that again.I’ll call you next time, and then I’ll wait for you.”
Peter pulled back.“No, don’t do that.You did the right thing, Theodore.”
“You hung up on me.”
“Because you were safe.”
“You weren’t fucking safe!”The tears started up again.
With a sigh, Celeste walked up behind them.“You two are adorable.Do you think you can join us at the table?”
Theo felt his bottom lip tremble, but he stared right into Peter’s eyes, stared like a vampire compelling someone would.“We’re not done talking about this.”
And Peter had thegallto look pleased and smile his fake Viking smile.“As you say, belov—as you say.Come, we got some fruit tarts.Unless you truly cannot stand fruit salad?”
Tears started running afresh, even as Theo laughed at a joke that really wasn’t all that funny.
Chapter 15
Petercouldtell,evenwithout looking, that his suit was ruined.Theodore had cried on it, and Peter did not select his suits for durability in the face of tears and snot.Yet he bore the stains happily.They were like wounds blessed by Valkyries.
He’d been able to coax Theodore to the table, gorgeously set by Celeste with little plates for afternoon tea for everyone, even for him, as Celeste likely hadn’t wanted to assign seats or cause awkwardness.
Next to Peter, Theodore was looking at the fruit tart on his plate, eyes dreamy and slightly swollen.Peter felt incredibly bad for finding that he was apparently into seeing Theodore like that, all unraveled or disheveled—a little of both, really—and the more beautiful for it.The reason for Theodore’s current state was far from ideal, but still.
