Page 117 of Pistols and Plush Toys

Don’t,he told himself.Leave well enough alone. You don’t need to say goodnight. You don’t need—

He knocked.

“Comein,” Elliot called.

Taking a deep breath, Nikolai pushed the door the rest of the way open.

Elliot was sitting up in bed on his phone, his plush animals tucked around him. The one bedside lamp was on, and the light was low and cozy. He looked perfectly at ease there in the bed, dressed down in a loose sleep shirt.

“Hi,” Elliot said, smiling at him as Nikolai walked in.

The fact that Elliot now looked pleased to see Nikolai, was smiling at him—

“Evening,” Nikolai said hoarsely. “Just wanted to… check in. Before bed.”Stupid.

Elliot nodded, setting his phone down. “Actually, I-I wanted to ask you something.”

“Of course,” Nikolai said, coming closer to the bed.

“Um,” Elliot started. “Well… Xander and I have been texting some.”

“Oh?” Nikolai hesitated, then went to perch on the side of the bed like he had the previous two nights. “That is good. I’m glad for you to have friends.”

Elliot sucked in a breath, but then he was beaming. “Yeah, it’s, um, it’s… it’s been really nice to reconnect.”

“I’m glad,” Nikolai said, smiling back at him. “What is your question?”

“Oh, well, um… he was asking about hanging out on Wednesday afternoon.” Elliot fiddled with the bedspread, voice getting quieter. More unsure. “Would, um, would that be okay?”

“Of course,” Nikolai said easily. “You’re not needing my permission. I will send you with Alex. Just say what time.”

“Oh,” Elliot breathed, looking up at him with gratitude. “Thank you.”

Nikolai swallowed and looked away. “We should talk also about next date. This weekend is Fall Arts Festival. I’m thinking you might like?”

When he allowed himself to glance back, it was just in time to see Elliot’s face light up. “That sounds really fun. I’ve never been.”

“We have artist table every year,” Nikolai said. “Is good business. Many different kinds of vendors.”

“I’d–I’d love to go with you,” Elliot said, wearing that achingly soft smile.

Nikolai felt his heart thud, and he dragged his eyes away again. His gaze landed on Max the bear, sitting against Elliot’s side.

“Okay, good. Then is date.” He needed to leave. He needed to give himself some space and distance. It was foolish of him to visit Elliot at night again. He moved to get up. “Goodnight.”

Elliot held out a hand, not quite touching. “I-I had one other question.”

Nikolai turned to him. “Yes?”

“I was wondering… I mean—you liked the borscht so much, but it wasn’t your grandmother’s recipe so I—I was wondering if you had any family recipes?” Elliot looked hopeful. Eager. “I’d love to make you something that was reallyhers,if I can.”

Nikolai opened his mouth and then closed it. He’d never thought about recipes, if his ??????? had ever written them down. After she’d passed, his father had paid to have her house cleared out. As far as Nikolai knew, her personal effects were still packed up and boxed in his father’s attic.

At the time Nikolai had secreted out the photo albums for himself, and they were of the few items he’d taken from Russia when he’d left.

“I do not know,” he said slowly. If there were recipes, they’d be in those boxes in his father’s house. It hadn’t occurred to him before that they might even exist at all. “If there are, they would be in my father’s house.” Nikolai sighed and shook his head. “Far away, in Russia.”

“Oh,” Elliot said, frowning down at his bedspread. “Right, um, sorry. It was dumb of me to ask.”

---