Page 47 of Gunpowder

Blair rubbed the back of his neck, his face flaming at the thought of telling Julian all about it. “I went out with Wren.”

“And?” Julian prompted.

“And…” Blair took a deep breath, feeling like he was making a far greater admission than he actually was. “And I like him.”

To his surprise, Julian didn’t press him for any more details than that. Julian’s brown eyes sparkled as he favored Blair with a warm smile. “Good for you. I don’t care what the other two sticks-in-the-mud say, it’s nice to have some companionship.”

Blair huffed and ran his fingers over the matching throw pillow squished between him and the arm of the couch, idly plucking at the white fluff. He was glad Julian didn’t push for anything more. Blair wasn’t sure he could elaborate on the strange relationship he’d found himself in, even if he wanted to.

“Hey, Blair.”

He glanced over at the suddenly serious tone to find an equally somber expression on Julian’s face. “Yeah?”

“I admire your devotion to Incindious. Really, I do. But… and don’t you ever tell anyone I said this, but don’t give up your life for it.”

“Where the hell did that come from?” He didn’t mean to sound angry but if this was leading up to someone making him choose, he wasn’t about to walk away from Incindious. He’d committed his life to the gang as soon as he got the mark on his body. He saw Julian’s eyes fall and tried to take the edge out of his voice. “Did you have to give something up?”

“Guns and violence have never been my thing. Who knows what I would be doing if I wasn’t in this gang, but I could never leave. I would be leaving my heart behind. I’m just saying you’re still young and this is a hard life.”

He heard the thickness in Julian’s voice and started to feel the impact of his words. “You’re saying I should get out.”

“People are getting crippled and dying, and it’s only going to keep getting worse. It’s getting dangerous.” Moisture gathered in Julian’s eyes. “It’s getting scary. I’m scared. I may be in way too deep to get out, but you, and Marie, she’s so young—” He broke off with a choked sound and pressed his hand over his mouth like he could shove the emotions back inside.

“It’s gonna be okay. We just have to stick together and we can beat Phantom,” Blair assured him. “Besides, you guys are my family. I’m not gonna take off as soon as shit gets hard.”

Julian sniffled but smiled. “You’re stubborn. It’s no wonder you fit in with us so well.”

You fit in. Blair mirrored his smile, hearing what he had seldom ever been told. He grabbed the remote off the end table and turned the TV on. Julian could fall into a funk when he was down like this, but Blair knew he could salvage his mood with Gossip Girl reruns. He plastered the most relaxed expression on his face that he could while Julian’s words crawled under his skin. It wasn’t the dying and the shootouts that scared him, but seeing the person who always smiled and stayed optimistic start to break down, that was fucking terrifying. Especially now that Blair had something more than just Incindious to lose.

13

GODLESS

The knock on his apartment door brought Blair’s chaotic attempt to straighten up to a halt. Wren had already been there, but never for more than a few minutes, and Blair had started to feel self conscious about it. Not that his place was dirty, it just looked… very not like Wren’s. He liked to think of it as homey, but most people would probably call it cluttered. The blanket he kept on the couch was actually folded, though, and he’d put away the pyramid of clean dishes threatening to fall out of the dish drainer on his counter.

It wasn’t perfect but it was better, and that was enough to satisfy him as he opened the door. Blair belatedly realized he didn’t even call out to verify who it was, that he could be letting anyone in his apartment. Jinx could have been on the other side of the door and Blair wouldn’t have known it until he got his throat slit with a manicured fingernail, filed to razor sharpness.

Luckily it was just Wren, dressed in navy scrubs and taking in Blair’s relief with a look of amusement.

“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll get dinner,” Blair said, stepping back to let him in.

He might have watched Wren from the corner of his eye in the kitchen as he situated all his long limbs on the couch, privately enjoying the awkward way he tried to adjust to being in an unfamiliar place. He prepared two plates and balanced one on his forearm so he could also carry their drinks. Usually he helped cook at the bar but he had served the food enough to pick up a few handy tricks.

“You know we don’t have to eat every time we see each other,” Wren said, accepting his plate.

“Yeah, well. If I don’t feed you I can’t trust you not to try to subsist off caffeine and anger.”

Wren sat up, folding his socked feet under his thighs and Blair smiled at the sight of his shoes on the rug. It was oddly endearing to see Wren making himself at home, watching as Blair plunked their drinks down on a couple squares of corkboard that acted as his coasters. Wren peered down at the dark liquid in the mug.

“You didn’t strike me as the type to drink coffee with dinner.”

Blair took a sip of his water. “I’m not. I made it for you.”

“Oh.” Then, quietly, “Thanks.”

Halfway through their meal, Wren said he passed his exam. Blair probably praised him a little too forcefully but in his defense, he usually had to drag details like that out of Wren by force, so having it volunteered to him made him happy. Wren just looked amused with his enthusiasm.

“Reymond told me there was a shooting at the bar,” Wren said.

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