Page 34 of Refraction

“Uh-oh. Maybe it’ll be salad.”

“I’ll… figure it out.” He’d pick at it. Or say he wasn’t feeling well. Something. No food-belly allowed. “I will be home.” He grabbed his phone and his wallet and kissed Timmy on the cheek. “Watching a movie?”

“Yep. Having a Godzilla-thon.”

Okay, his roommate was a dork.

“You’re too loveable to stay inside all the time, Timmy. Even if it is eleven degrees out. Call someone.” He grabbed his coat and hurried out the door, knowing full well that Timmy would be sitting on the couch when he got home.

He took the winding staircase down to the ground floor so fast he nearly made himself dizzy. Apparently it took a dork to know a dork.

“Holy fuck,” he swore as he left his building and the ice-cold air stung his cheeks. He couldn’t get into that black car fast enough.

Tucker was wearing that goofy plaid flannel coat over a blue button-down, with a brown cowboy hat this time. “Hey, honey. You order this weather?”

“Fuck no. Why don’t I live in the Caribbean?” He slid right across the back seat and took a taste of Tucker’s lips, ducking under the brim of the cowboy hat.

“Mmm. I’ve never been there. We should go.” Tucker kissed him back, that stubble beginning to soften into a full beard.

“I love the beach, but you would laugh at me. I can’t tan. Like, it’s bad for business.” He shifted and leaned into Tucker. God, it just felt so good to do that.

“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed that. I never worry on it. Sun, I mean. I swim naked a lot.”

He laughed. “Swim naked, paint naked, fuck naked. Why do you even own clothing?” Seriously. Why? Tucker looked like a fucking Roman god naked.

“Silly laws, and periodically you don’t want your dangly bits… dangling. Grilling out, for instance, or using a saw.”

“That’s what lace hipsters are for.” He grinned, knowing what that would do to Tucker.

“Mmm. Those made me stupid, honey. That was a sweet damn surprise.”

They’d made Tucker more than stupid. It didn’t take anything at all to keep the cowboy’s busy mind rooted in that hotel room after that. He could feel his own smug little grin right down to his toes. He laid his head on Tucker’s shoulder and let him see it. “Gonna be hard to top that one.”

“Mmm. I have faith in us. We’ll find something wonderful when we need it.” Tucker stroked his fingers. “I signed the papers for my studio today. An open space, a bathroom, kitchenette deal, and a place for a bed.”

“A bed in your studio? Wait, are you going to live in it?” He’d just assumed Tucker would stay at the hotel. Moving into his studio was so New York artist.

The car pulled up to the curb, and Calvin peered through the windshield. Corner of Eighty-Fifth and York. Nice.

“No reason to pay for the hotel and the studio both, right?” Tucker held the car door open for him. “Come on in out of the cold.”

“No, I get it.” He got it. And he worried about it too. But it wasn’t his place to say anything, and who was he to suggest anyone pay to keep two places in this city?

He slid from the car and let Tucker put an arm around his shoulders.

The door opened before they could ring the bell, and Marge ushered them in. “You need a better coat, Tucker. I told you. You’re going to freeze.”

Leather. Tucker needed a leather jacket. “I agree. I’ll take him shopping.” He smiled as Marge stepped aside to let them in. “Thank you. It’s nice to see you again, without the circus.”

“Indeed. This will be infinitely quieter, and the chairs are better.” Marge kissed his cheek and took his jacket.

The kiss made his cheeks heat, and he took Tucker’s hand. “I love this neighborhood. So old New York. But it’s secretly so hip.”

“Thank you. I’m very happy here. I’ve been here for a long time.”

“Eons,” Tucker teased, and she reached out and pinched him.

“I changed your diapers, young man.”

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