“Thank you,” you said happily and brought the cup to your lips, drinking half of it in just a few gulps. One of your cheeks was splashed hot pink, bleeding into a bit of blue around your mouth. You’d shaved your beard recently, and now there was just a light scruff. I used to love playing with your beard. Now, I wanted to rub my cheek against it in a completely different way.
“How do I look?” you asked and tugged at the bottom of your white t-shirt, another casualty of the piñata explosion.
“Like a unicorn had diarrhea on you.”
You laughed and glanced around. “Is this typically how the young people celebrate their birthdays?”
I scowled at you. You were doing that thing again. “Don’t be ageist, Henri. Are you having fun?”
You smiled ruefully and nodded. “I am. Thank you for inviting me.”
I clapped your shoulder. “Any time.”
Just then one of the guys—Carter—came by with a balloon and popped it over our heads, dusting us both with color. A bit of purple powder coated your lashes. You squinted and rubbed at your eye. When you pulled your hand away, your eyeball was red and irritated, so I suggested you come inside to wash it out.
Papa was outside making sure no one spiked the drinks or snuck off to get high, so I led you to my bedroom. You sat at the edge of my bed while I retrieved a wet washcloth. I told you to close your eyes and slowly wiped your face.
Why did this feel so familiar? It was the quiet hush that had fallen over the room and the complete trust you had in me as I gently swabbed your eye. When I’d finished, you opened your eyes and our gazes locked. Were you seducing me or was I seducing you?
“Henri, can I ask you something?” I said in an even tone.
You nodded, not breaking my stare. You were falling under my thrall. I saw it in the way your mouth relaxed, and your jaw went slack. I tilted my head and your eyes followed the subtle movement. I’d practiced my technique on my cats, then on my friends and adversaries. Lately, I’d been using it on my teachers. But never on you… until now.
“Who’s Orlando?” I asked lowly.
You sighed deeply but didn’t look away. I laid one hand on your upper arm. My eyes were my power source but combining it with touch allowed me to level up. You wanted to talk, and I wanted the truth.
“Orlando was my lover,” you said in a faraway voice.
“Do you miss him?”
“Very much.”
“How did he die?”
You swallowed and shifted where you sat. Guilty. This was what Mater meant when she’d said it was a deep, dark secret.
“I don’t want to talk about it, especially not to you.”
“Why not to me? I’m a very good listener.” I kept my tone sympathetic. My subject had to trust I wouldn’t harm them with their secrets. With you, I didn’t have to fake it.
“I don’t want you to fear me.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I trailed my hand down your arm, grabbed your hand, and squeezed. “I could never fear you, Henri. I love you.”
Your shoulders, which had been stiff with tension, loosened a little, and your posture relaxed.
“I love you too, Vincent.”
We’d said those words to each other countless times before, but this time, it didn’t feel like familial love. And your skin where I stroked it… I’d never touched you like this before, so why did it feel so natural and right? Should I use this opportunity to find out how youreallyfelt about me? Would that be so wrong?
“Do you want to kiss me?” I held my breath and waited for your response. My nipples hardened and brushed against the fabric of my t-shirt. My bathing suit grew tighter around my crotch.
“I shouldn’t.”
“Why not?” I asked innocently. Mater told me a long time ago that I had to let go of my guilt over using my powers, but some part of me still knew it was wrong, especially to do this to you.
“Because…” You drifted off and seemed about to look away. With one quick gesture of my hand, I directed your eyes back to mine.
