Page 95 of The Evening Wolves

John-Henry grinned as they passed through the kitchen into the living room.

“Will you please tell these shit-for-brains—” North began when he saw them.

“We’re ordering pizza,” Emery said. “Apparently that and masturbation were teenage John’s only pursuits.”

“That tracks,” Tean murmured.

Jem gave a scandalized, “Tean!”

Tean blushed. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

“No, it was amazing. I wish I’d said it. Also, it totally does track. I bet it was nonstop wang-a-rang from ages, like, twelve to—how old are you now?”

“I would have killed to meet teenage John,” Auggie said. “Can you imagine if you’d had Twitter back then? He probably never would have left his bedroom.”

Theo suddenly seemed to need to scratch his beard.

“Jesus Christ,” John-Henry said, but it came out mixed with laughter. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“Get something good,” Emery said as he passed a credit card to Theo. “And don’t let him—” He spared a look for Jem. “—near that card.”

“I was doing you a favor,” Jem said. “They were slaughtering you with that interest rate.”

“Where are you going?” Theo asked.

“We’re going to pick up all the clothes that my husband decided to get rid of in perhaps the most dramatic way possible.” Emery seemed to think about this and added, “Except maybe for burning them. John, did you consider burning them?”

“It wasn’t that dramatic,” John-Henry said.

“See, this is what I’m talking about.” North made a face. “Bisexual my ass.”

John-Henry felt like he might have needed to reply to that, but Emery herded him downstairs, and they set to work. The basement itself didn’t take all that long—they returned most of the boxes to the shelves, and then they took John-Henry’s Wahredua PD and Wahredua High clothing up to the bedroom. They worked together in silence to hang the clothes in the closet. John-Henry noticed when Emery hesitated over the letterman jacket.

He touched Emery’s arm, and Emery glanced up. Then Emery smiled—not one of the tiny, invisible ones. But a real smile, full and open and vulnerable.

“Did I say thank you?” John-Henry asked.

“You did.”

“Good. And I believe there was some mention of dicking me down.”

Emery laughed quietly. “I do seem to recall that.”

“You know, I wonder if that jacket still fits.”

“You’re more muscular than you were in high school.”

“But maybe if I wore it without a shirt.”

Emery’s smile shaded toward uncertainty and a hint of color came into his cheeks.

“Unless that would be weird for you.”

“No.” The first word came quickly, and then Emery said more firmly, “No. I’d like that. I’m embarrassed by how much I’d like that.”

John-Henry kissed him. He put a hand on Emery’s cheek, and his skin was hot with the flush. He kissed him again, and Emery shivered.

When John-Henry pulled back, Emery whispered, “We have guests.”

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