Page 201 of The Wild Charge

Tenny on horseback was Tenny in his truest form. The ballerina grace and the quiet strength. The smiles that came easy, that soft, pleased expression when the horses responded to his cues right away.

It was more than a little magic.

But, after, when he’d showered, and smelled like soap, when his hair was damp, and the stars wheeled through the skylight; when Reese touched him, and tried to pull him in, Tenny would kiss the side of his head and lean away.Go to sleep. You need your rest. Maybe tomorrow.

They didn’t talk. Not of anything serious. Not of anything at all, really, other thanpass the saltat dinner, after Tenny had thrown something simple together. Neither of them cared much for the mundane shows and movies they watched on TV, but the noise and light became a barrier between them; a way to fill the apartment with sound without having to broach any of the subjects that began to gain weight and barbs in the back of Reese’s mind.

The wound on his leg healed up as a pink line, the muscles there twinging if he pushed them too hard. The sharp pain in his ribs faded to soreness, fainter and fainter every day; his walks grew longer, his strides quicker; his lungs filled deeper and easier, as his steps hastened uphill, beneath trees that blazed all the colors of a bonfire.

October had come and half-gone, and Reese felt like they were in a holding pattern. He hadn’t worn his cut, hadn’t been to the clubhouse…hadn’t seen the younger brother they’d brought back with them.

Felt like a glass ornament on a shelf, and not a hot-blooded, living thing that waswanted.

He woke one morning to the steady drumming of rain overhead, a susurrus on the steel barn roof; a rattle on the thick glass of the skylight above the headboard. He cracked his eyes to a watery, silver dawn, and knew right away that he was alone.

He stretched his arms up overhead, and felt only a low, humming disquiet in his torso. His ribs weren’t wrapped anymore, and he took a deep, deep breath, ribcage expanding fully. The apartment smelled of coffee, but Tenny was nowhere in sight.

He pulled a t-shirt on over his boxers, and went, barefoot, in search of him.

He didn’t have to go far.

Bare-chested, dressed in joggers and unlaced boots, Tenny sat on the bottom step, feet on the concrete aisle, coffee in one hand and lit cigarette in the other. He was staring out the open barn doors, at the rain drumming on the driveway and hissing through the leaves of the oak trees: a water color portrait come to life, soft and saturated.

Like Reese, Tenny wasn’t the sort of person who could be snuck up on. The flicker of his fingers before he brought his cig to his lips told Reese that his approach had been heard, though it wasn’t acknowledged. He sat down on the step beside him, concrete cold beneath his naked toes.

After a drag and an exhale, smoke curling up to twine with the steam off the coffee, Tenny’s gaze slid over, down low. His voice was still sleep-rough, the way it got when he hadn’t sleptwell– a standard condition, these days. “You’re not supposed to be barefoot in a barn.”

“You’re not supposed to smoke in one, either,” Reese countered, mildly.

Tenny took a long drag and then ground the butt beneath his boot. “Yeah. Emmie would ream me out for it.” He leaned down to pick up the butt and pocket it; scraped his toe over the last flakes of tobacco on the ground, smearing away the evidence.

A breeze swept in through the doors, bringing cold raindrops and moist air; when it settled, the rain resumed its steady hiss on the pavement. A quiet moment – but Tenny’s profile, limned in silver, spoke of unquiet things.

His scar gleamed, a line of white across the visible pulse in his throat, and Reese reached to touch it without thinking. Traced it with a slow fingertip, and felt Tenny go very still. Breath held, body gone tense.

Reese still wasn’t any good with words, so he leaned in and pressed his lips to that spot.You saved me just like I saved you. Thank you. I love you. And, most of all:come back to me.

Tenny shuddered, breath restarting with a little hitch.

Reese kissed his jaw. His cheek. The corner of his eye, and the corner of his mouth. He let his hand fall to his thigh, and then slid over it, aiming for the center seam of his sweats.

But Tenny caught his wrist and lifted his hand away, gentle but firm. His head turned, so their noses overlapped, breath mixing, Tenny’s smelling of smoke and coffee, Reese’s undoubtedly of sleep. Reese shifted closer.

And Tenny shifted back. A proper kiss evaded.

Reese stared at him a moment, trying to understand, willing Tenny totalkto him. He’d always been so full of pointless chatter.

Before.

But now, he swallowed hard, placed Reese’s hand on the stair tread between them, and glanced away. Sipped his coffee, mug trembling faintly.

Reese sighed, and stood. “I guess I’ll get a shower.”

He waited, all the way back up the stairs, for Tenny to call out to him.

But he didn’t.

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