Page 67 of The Light Within

Julien took several large gulps of wine. “Medical stuff takes ages. They don’t want to kill people and such.”

It seemed like Alexander would die without it, but what did Cinn know about the bureaucracy of motetech?

“God, has it been a couple of days.” After draining the last of his glass, Julien threw himself down next to Cinn. He leaned his head on Cinn’s shoulder, nudging into the crook of his neck. Julien’s breath was warm against his skin, sending pleasant tingles dancing across it.

Julien had never been more correct—it’d been two roller-coasters of days, complete with dizzying loop-de-loops Cinn could have done without. He was entirely drained of every last inch of energy. Humming inagreement, he traced the outline of Julien’s knee through his corduroy trousers.

If Elliot weren’t in the room, he’d pull Julien into his lap, tangle his fingers up in his hair, kiss him until they forgot everything else and went back to talking about how great Christmas was. But he settled for a hand on Julien’s thigh, squeezing it tightly to communicate what he wanted to say in words:I’m here. The world might be falling apart around us, but I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.

Elliot busied himself with delivering glassware to the sink. They were making him uncomfortable. The feel of Julien pressed up against him was everything Cinn needed just then, but not at the expense of Elliot. Cinn began gently prying Julien off him by nudging him away. He paused when Julien reached out a sudden hand towards Elliot.

For a lengthy moment, Elliot looked unsure, blinking at Julien’s outstretched hand in mild confusion. Eventually, moving very slowly, he sank to the tiles to join them, wedging Julien in the middle. Julien nuzzled his head further into him and Cinn smiled against his hair.

Then, dragging both Elliot’s and Cinn’s hands onto his lap, Julien made a small, satisfied noise, and promptly fell silent, his breaths swiftly becoming deeper and deeper until it was apparent he’d somehow managed to fall asleep in the awkward position.

A soft laugh came from Elliot. “This idiot. Think we can move him so we can go smoke?”

Cinn gently tried to slip his hand free, but Julien let out a low, disgruntled sound that rumbled against Cinn’s neck, and tightened his grip, holding his hand with surprising firmness.

“I think we’re prisoners.” Cinn whispered.

Elliot chuckled quietly, shaking his head. “We’ll give our captor a pass, just this once.”

Humming in agreement, Cinn shifted slightly, repositioning Julien so his head rested more securely against his chest, allowing Elliot to stretch out a little more beside them.

Cinn looked down at Julien’s peaceful face. With his free hand, he ran a finger over the bridge of his nose. He loved the rare moments he got to watch Julien sleep. It was the only time Cinn ever saw Julien truly relax. “Right now, this feels like exactly where we need to be.”

fifteen

Julien

It wasn’t fair. Julien’s hangover was thoroughly undeserved.

He’d only had ten or so glasses of mulled wine, for Christ’s sake. Nothing to warrant this horrendous drilling sensation throbbing through his temple. He kept the covers firmly over his head for as long as possible, enjoying the warmth of Cinn’s thighs between his. He’d happily have spent a good few hours like that, but then Cinn spoiled it by insisting he had to leave Julien and get out of bed.

They were flying home late that evening, and Cinn was going to ring his mother’s phone number to see if she’d be up for a quick visit. Then, pulling on his clothes facing away from Julien, Cinn hastily mumbled something about swinging by to see Tyler.

Naturally, Julien put on a massive show aboutwhat a great ideathat was.

Cinn rolled his eyes, falling back onto the bed, fully dressed. He hooked his leg around Julien’s hip, dragging him over to him. With gentle, caressing strokes, Cinn shifted Julien’s hair away from his face.

“There’s mixed messages going on right now,” Julien informed him. “You can’t putonclothes, then do this to me.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t be gone too long,” Cinn said, his face only an inch from Julien’s on the pillow. His eyes sought out Julien’s, locking onto them to say, “I already can’t wait to get back to you.”

The statement was said in a whisper, but Cinn may as well have screamed it, as far as Julien’s brain was concerned. It clung on to thesentiment like a child with their favourite toy, wrapping it around himself like a blanket.

He already can’t wait to get back to me.

Cinn shouldn’t have to placate him with such things, Julien knew that. He’d only said it so that Julien wouldn’t sit around moping all day. But regardless, it had sounded authentic, and Julien would treasure the words.

“I already can’t wait for you to get back, too,” Julien replied, kissing the smile on Cinn’s lips. “Go then, quickly, before I start taking your clothes back off.”

Cinn shuffled to perch on the edge of the bed. He appeared to be weighing something in his mind. After a long stretch of silence, he yanked his grey hoodie up and over his head in one rapid movement.

Julien couldn’t believe his luck—he hadn’t even beenthatpersuasive.

Cinn’s hoodie hit him square in the face.

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