Page 22 of Playing with Fire

"What do you think?" he asked, adjusting his glasses nervously.

I crossed to him in a few strides, my hands moving without conscious thought to straighten his collar. "Perfect," I said, my voice rougher than intended. "You look perfect."

The flush that spread across his cheeks was fascinating. I'd always been good at reading people, at finding their weaknesses. But with Leo, those reactions weren't data points to be exploited. They were treasures to be collected and safeguarded.

"I'll go change back," he said, starting to turn away.

I caught his arm. "Wait." Without asking, I slipped my hand behind his neck and pulled him close, pressing my forehead against his. "I like seeing you like this," I admitted, the words barely audible. "Confident. Happy."

His eyes widened slightly, surprise giving way to something warmer. "Even if I'm not in your clothes anymore?"

"You can always borrow my hoodie," I promised. "But I like seeing you in things that make you feel good about yourself, too."

He looked at me like I'd given him something precious, and maybe I had. Permission to be himself, to want things for himself—not just what I wanted for him.

"Get a room, you two," Xander called, reminding me we weren't alone.

I stepped back, but kept my hand on Leo's lower back. "We're getting that shirt."

"And the other five I picked out in different colors," Xander added, appearing beside us with an armful of additional options. "Plus these jeans that will make his ass look fantastic."

Leo looked slightly overwhelmed again, and I squeezed his hip reassuringly. "Go ahead. Try them on. I'll be right here."

He nodded and disappeared back into the dressing room, this time with Xander's selections. Once he was gone, I turned to find Misha watching me with undisguised amusement.

"What?" I demanded.

"Nothing," he said, holding up their hands in mock surrender. "Just never thought I'd see the day when Xavier Laskin turned into a lovesick puppy."

"I am not—" I started, then cut myself off when I realized how defensive I sounded. "Whatever. Fuck off."

Misha just laughed. "It's cute. Terrifying, but cute."

I flipped them off and leaned against the wall outside Leo's dressing room, trying to sort through the riot of emotions I'd been experiencing since last night. What if I wasn't asexual after all? What if I was... what had Leo called it? Demisexual? The word felt too neat, too categorical for the complex tangle of feelings I was experiencing. But it was the closest I'd found to describing this strange new reality where my body responded to Leo in ways it had never responded to anyone else.

The door opened and Leo emerged wearing dark jeans that hugged his thighs in ways that made my mouth go dry. He'd paired them with one of the deep green button-downs Xander had selected, the color bringing out flecks of gold in his brown eyes.

"Well?" he asked, turning in a slow circle that gave me a perfect view of how the jeans emphasized the curve of his ass. "Xander said these make my butt look good, but I think they're too tight."

"They're perfect," I said, stepping closer, unable to resist reaching out to adjust his collar again. "You look... edible."

“Ok, if you say so,” he said, blushing again.

As he closed the dressing room door behind him, I leaned against the wall and tried to make sense of the unfamiliar sensations coursing through me. Desire, yes. But also tenderness. Fear. Hope. A complex cocktail of emotions that defied easy categorization.

For someone who prided himself on control, on understanding every variable in any given situation, this uncertainty should have been terrifying. And it was, in some ways. But there was also unexpected freedom in it. In admitting that I didn't have all the answers. That Leo and I would have to figure this out together, one step at a time.

I pulled out my phone, ignoring another knowing smirk from Misha, and opened my notes app. Created a new list titled "Leo" and began typing:

Likes wearing my clothes

Responds well to physical touch

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