Fletch stole another kiss, this time lingering in it, besotted with whiskey and the man alike. What Theo had said — his fear that Fletch would want more than the man could ever give — echoed in his mind. It scared him, too, to burn this badly for someone. To ache for them and wonder if what he got would ever be enough to quench his thirst. To hold so much back that he thought he might burst. He stole another, and another, until he was sure he'd worn out his welcome. "I'm not real? You take the words out of my mouth, I'm going to steal them right back," he smirked, just barely readable for how close he'd remained to the man. "You've been warned."
He snugged up close, pulling Theo in to rest the man's head on his chest. "Balls," he muttered as he immediately began to drift. "Going to fall asleep like this. You really do it to me."
The next thing he knew, he awoke to an empty bed again, and to Theo's lingering scent on his pillow. He rolled over and buried his face in it and breathed deep, grinning like a happy cat. Today, at least, would be simple: there were no visits or piano lessons or obligations. He could be near Theo without the whole exhausting bullshit affair of playing the game. Maybe he could even make the man blush again for the fun of it. Besides. His shift would start that afternoon, and that meant that he had just enough time to run into town and fetch what Theo had been referring to: a means to allow them both some time to sleep without the fear of being caught.
He was late in relieving Niles. "Are they even open at this hour?" the man teased him mildly. "He's just reading. Nothing to report."
"I was shopping, you cock," Fletch snorted, holding up a bag as evidence that he had, indeed, not been out whoremongering for once. "Afternoon, then."
"Aye, afternoon."
He waited for his fellow bodyguard to disappear down the stairs and completely out of sight before he ducked into Theo's room. The nobleman had flopped down on his bed and appeared to be deeply invested in a book. Fletch wondered if it was one of the scandalous ones this time. He dropped the bag off next to the nanny door and found himself a chair to rest his feet. It was just by coincidence that that chair allowed him to watch the man in his quiet contentment for as long as the moment would allow.
He was lovely. Soft and sad and achingly beautiful. Fletch thought he liked Theo best like this: at peace in his own world, with nobody to impress and no expectations to uphold. No makeup, hair a bit of a mess, clothes picked for him and not for the day. He wasn't stiff, either. He was so at ease. Maybe Fletcher wanted the pretty boy he'd seen before the ball, but he thought this was the one he loved.
