Page 76 of Gunpowder

“Okay. I’ll, um, follow you on my bike. So I can go back home. At some point.”

Smooth, Blair.

Smooth as a fucking cactus.

Wren raised an eyebrow. “Right.”

He spared Blair any further suffering by getting into the Audi and closing the door. Blair quickly got on his bike and started it up, not wanting Wren to arrive too long before him and have time to wonder why he wanted to come over—which he probably wouldn’t, because unlike Blair he wasn’t five and a half feet of concentrated anxiety. You got this, Blair told himself, even with his palms sweating around the handlebars.

He didn’t have this.

Nervous as he was, Blair still walked through the door of Wren’s apartment like it was his own. He couldn’t remember when he started feeling so comfortable there. That was like the rest of their relationship, though. At some point, the thing Blair had tried so hard to avoid had become the only stable thing in his life.

“Hey,” Blair said as he followed Wren into the bedroom.

Wren paused in pulling a shirt on. “What?”

He walked over and grabbed the shirt, pushed it back up over Wren’s head. “I, um.”

Blair heard a soft sound of amusement as the shirt hit the ground, and then Wren’s voice soothing and fraying his nerves all at the same time when he said, “Use your words, Blair.”

“Oh, shut up,” Blair said without any malice. “Just… hush for a minute.”

Wren sat on the end of the bed, so fucking pretty even with the bruises mottled across his ribs.

“I got you something,” Blair said, coming to stand in front of him.

That got him a curious look, and Blair reached into his pocket. His heart was beating in his throat so hard he could fucking taste it. He took out the long, black box.

It took a couple tries to open it since his fingers had started shaking. “I thought it looked kinda weird but it’s for you so I guess as long as you like it...” You’re babbling, Blair, get it the fuck together. “It’s supposed to be a molecular structure.”

Wren stared at him and yeah, Blair guessed there were probably a lot of different molecular structures, but if he didn’t explain this in bits and pieces then he was going to collapse from nerves. He was already itching to open the window, hurl the box as far across Manhattan as he could, and use carnal means to convince Wren the conversation never happened so he wouldn’t ask questions.

Blair tossed the lid aside and held out the box. “Y’know back when we first met, I called you Sunshine to be funny because you seemed so glum. Then it was really funny cause you had never heard the song.” He laughed at himself since Wren didn’t seem to be up to the task. “But even though I joked about it back then, you really do… make me happy.”

Wren reached for the silver pendant, a crease appearing between his eyebrows. “Serotonin.”

“It’s totally fine if you don’t like it,” Blair said hurriedly.

“I do.” Wren sounded surprised to hear himself say it, brows drawing further together as he traced the pendant that Blair still held. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I do like it.”

Blair drew in a sharp breath. The simple words carved his chest open, ripped out some of his insecurities and replaced them with the softly spoken admission that should have seemed like nothing, but it was everything. “I can put it on you.”

Wren lifted his hair off the back of his neck without looking away. Blair lifted the silver chain off the backing inside the box and opened the clasp. The minute task of putting a necklace on someone became a tremendous effort as Blair reached around his neck. It took a couple of attempts but Blair hooked the clasp at his nape, and Wren let go of his hair, the inky strands spilling back onto his paper white shoulders.

Blair dipped his head to kiss him. For once their height difference was a help rather than a hindrance, as it made what would have been an awkward angle more bearable. Wren kissed him back eagerly, breaking it off only to slide further back on the bed, pulling Blair down with him. Blair lowered himself to the mattress on his knees and brought their mouths back together. Wren was as feverish and slightly impatient with his touches as ever, but there was an underlying… something that made Blair think Wren was just far enough out of his depth to give Blair what he wanted.

He separated from Wren, thumbs stroking over the flush that had formed in Wren’s face. Then he put his hand on Wren’s chest.

“Wren,” Blair said, gently pushing Wren down to lay on the bed. “Let me try something.”

“Try what?”

Blair worked Wren’s jeans and underwear down his legs and threw them aside, leaving him in nothing but the necklace and his glasses. “I want you to lay there and let me do everything.”

“Your—”

“If you say one more word about my leg, I’m throwing you out of your window,” Blair said calmly, standing long enough to shed the rest of his own clothes before settling astride Wren’s hips. He carefully removed Wren’s glasses and set them aside on the nightstand next to his pistols. “It’s okay.”

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