Page 25 of Mystic Wonderful

Confusion marred Gavin’s handsome face a moment. “But…wouldn’t that have been better?”

“Oh my God,” Rose deadpanned. “You absolute moron.”

“Hey!” Then his brows lifted. “Wait…oh. Oh. So you mean…”

“That’s right,” Rose said.

Ignoring her, addressing Francis, he said, “Are you, like – seriouslyin lovewith Tris or something? Is that it?”

Rose said, “No one should allow you access to firearms.”

Francis snorted – but felt his face heat. “You might try it sometime, Gav. Save yourself some money.”

Gavin waved him off as Rose chuckled. “Aw, fuck you both.” He grinned, though.

When the doctor gave him the go-ahead to return to his quarters, it was with a soft, stretchy cloth sleeve covering his stump; much healed, but still tender, still bitterly painful at odd moments. Tris brought him clothes: sweats, and a loose t-shirt, and a zip-up hoodie that he chose to drape around his shoulders rather than walk with one sleeve dangling and half-empty.

“Oh,” Tris said, noticing. “I should have brought a pin.”

“This is fine for now,” Francis said, offering a smile, no longer surprised that Tris chose to walk alongside him, one hand hovering at the small of his back, ready to grip him around the waist if he stumbled.

The walk to his dorm was longer than he remembered, and though he stopped often to thank a passing well-wisher – people kept staring at him fixedly, like they were working hard not to glance toward his arm – he was a little out of breath by the time they reached his dorm.

“I was only laid up two-and-a-half weeks,” he complained, sitting down heavily on the side of his bunk. He’d never been so glad to see the drab little room before. “Why am I this out of shape?”

“Pain is draining,” Tris said, matter of fact, as he set the pill bottles down in a neat row on the side table. “You lost a lot of blood. Then there’s shock, and trauma, and all the meds you’re taking.”

Francis sighed. “Thanks, Dad.” It had slipped out automatically; he’d grown used to ribbing Gavin back and forth. He was only teasing, and didn’t mean anything by it.

But Tris, he saw, with great amusement, froze. Retracted his hand slowly from the last pill bottle and swallowed with an audible sound before turning a careful expression on Francis.

Fighting to keep a straight face, Francis said. “That reminds me: how oldare you, actually?”

“Is that – I mean – if you don’t–” He raked a hand through his hair, ruffling it, the light glinting off the silver along his temples. “I wasn’t trying to be–”

Francis burst out laughing. “Your face!”

Tris scowled. “You little shit.” A smile tugged at his mouth.

“Trust me,” Francis said, still laughing, “I never even met my father, so I can’t compare you.”

Tris’s expression softened.

“But.” Francis collected himself. “Now I’m definitely thinking you’ve got a daddy kink.”

He started laughing again, as Tris shoved at his good shoulder – and then sat down next to him, angled so they could face one another.

Still chuckling, Francis wiped at his eyes, and noted the mingled affection and heat in Tris’s gaze. It was instantly sobering. “Wait.” He cleared his throat, and blinked the last few delighted tears away. “Do you, actually?” His throat went dry when he thought about the possibilities; heat moved through him, warm and slow like poured honey, as Tris kept staring, and suspicion solidified into realization.Holy shit.

Tris shrugged, and reached to push Francis’s curls off his forehead. His expression was contemplative, and Francis thought he was recalling something in particular. “I dunno, really. Maybe.”

“Oh my God. Did a hooker call you that?” he asked, and couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “And you liked it?”

Tris’s face colored, and he glanced away, expression tightening. “Don’t. Forget–”

Francis reached up with his only hand and caught his jaw; felt the hard steel of it, the rough scrape of his supershort beard. He pulled his face back, so they were nearly nose-to-nose.

“I’m not stupid,” Francis said, gently, so Tris would know he wasn’t upset. “I know about the hookers. Call it an educated guess,” he added, when Tris started to protest. “Just like I know that you’ve not had much practice kissing.”

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