Page 16 of Gunpowder

“I’m a fucking piece of work you want to take to dinner. My call ends at midnight, call me if you’re still awake.”

Blair wasn’t even surprised to hear the phone beep, telling him Wren hung up. Hearing Wren curse stirred a strange warmth in him that was unrelated to the humid air.

Shit. Wherever that feeling came from, it needed to fuck right off.

He rang his stepdad and relayed what Wren had told him, somewhat on autopilot as he was still unnerved by his reaction to the other man. The thought didn’t just surprise him because it was about Wren, it was the nature of the thought in general. Blair was bisexual, but he was just as content in taking care of himself. Not having a sex life didn’t bother him. It always seemed like more trouble that it was worth and raised too big a risk that he would get attached, and he wasn’t looking for that to happen. Wren, though, just… pressed his buttons. In both good and bad ways.

Felix was already in the car when Blair got back, but Spencer was waiting for him, still leaning on the hood. “Your brother gonna be okay, Kennedy?”

“Yeah, he probably had a close call but he’ll be alright.”

Spencer nodded and flashed him a smile. “Good, because I still need your help in the kitchen tonight.”

Blair usually offered to stay and help close up the bar, but when Spencer cut him loose just after eleven that night, he was quick to say his goodbyes. He had plans, however bad of an idea those plans may be. The sidewalk was a welcome change from the crowded bar until the openness began to press down on him. The warm breeze took him back to the warehouse, to the silver flash of Spencer’s gun being aimed at him and the cement turning red. The feeling pissed him off. He shouldn’t be feeling vulnerable on his own turf, in Incindious’ territory.

It felt like hours before he could see the looming shape of his apartment building, due in equal parts to his aching leg and constantly looking around like someone from Phantom was going to jump out of the shadows to finish what they started. Some of his anxiety lifted once he was inside. It was still present, flaring up every time he passed a window or heard footsteps, but it wasn’t at the forefront of his mind. He unlocked the apartment and disengaged the security panel. It was eerily quiet without Tristan there, Blair noticed, surprised by how quickly he had gotten used to his little brother’s presence. It was better for there to be space between them, with the shitstorm of violence coming for Incindious, but he did miss the kid.

Blair grabbed a change of clothes from the pile of clean but unfolded laundry in the armchair and went to take a shower, a fast one since the balancing act required to shower was tiring. He dried his lower body first and redressed his leg.

He had grabbed the first two things that looked somewhat like they matched, which turned out to be army green cargo pants and a charcoal tank top that used to have a band logo. It was too old to tell which one anymore. He made a few passes over his hair with a towel. Fuck it, good enough.

Aided by his crutches, he went out to the living room to grab his checkered Vans. They had been nice shoes about three years ago when he was still skateboarding, before he wore them to death. He hung on to them more out of nostalgia than anything. His couch creaked in protest as he sat to pull them on.

Blair wiped away the moisture that had gathered on his phone while he showered and tapped the screen; 12:06 AM.

He stared at his call history. It seemed eager to call so soon after midnight, but he didn’t know where Wren lived and he probably wouldn’t want to go back out after he got home. He pressed the phone icon next to the unsaved number with a Long Island City area code that called him earlier and put it to his ear.

It rang three times before he heard, “Hello, Blair.”

Blair shivered but he didn’t know why. “Hey. Hospital cut you loose yet?”

“I just got to my car.”

“Hao Chi here in Flushing is good, if you like Chinese food.”

“I’ll put it in my navigator.”

The phone beeped in Blair’s ear and he sighed. He guessed he shouldn’t have expected much different. Wren didn’t sound happy about the prospect of dinner, but he could have been ecstatic for all Blair knew since the range of Wren’s voice seemed to exist in the space between bored and smug. He pushed himself onto his crutches; he was only a couple blocks from the restaurant but having experienced Wren’s lead foot, Blair doubted it would take him long to get there. As an afterthought, he added Wren to his contacts on the walk.

Blair threw a hand up to the hostess when he got there and went straight to his favorite table. Hao Chi had been there since before Spencer opened the bar, and the establishment had an understanding with Incindious: the restaurant looked the other way if anything suspicious was going on at the bar, and Incindious took care of anyone who came to Hao Chi causing trouble.

Blair stiffened when he heard the engine. Headlights glanced off the front windows as the Audi parked smoothly between two other vehicles on the street. Fixed on the empty space in front of him, he reminded himself this was a one time thing. It didn’t matter if it didn’t go well. It was just something he felt like he needed to do.

“At least wait until I’m sitting there to start staring.”

Wren slid into the other chair and Blair was saved from replying when the waitress came to take their drink orders. He was glad, because if Wren had wanted to tease him more, Blair couldn’t have denied that he really was staring like an idiot. He hadn’t considered that Wren would have a change of clothes at the hospital. He hadn’t paid much attention to his pants but what caught his eye was the black shirt, a couple sizes too big and hanging off one shoulder, holding his gaze captive with an expanse of fair skin.

The waitress left them with their menus and he made himself look back up at Wren’s face, framed as it was with black hair that tried to lay down but still curled away from his head in a few places. His ponytail holder slid down his wrist as he picked the menu up. Blair grimaced, realizing there wasn’t a part of Wren he didn’t enjoy looking at.

“How do you like your rotation with pediatrics?” Blair asked, knowing it was small talk but figuring it was as good a place as any to start making conversation.

“I’m only doing it out of obligation, I’ve already chosen my field and applied to do my residency under Reymond.” Noticing Blair’s questioning look, he added, “Dr. Garrett, the attending trauma surgeon.”

“Your boss seems a lot more laid back than mine,” Blair joked.

Wren closed his menu. “Your boss is Felix Bane.” It wasn’t a question.

“How did you know that?”

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