"Leon—!"

Lucien said his name in a panic, fingers tightening instinctively around Leon's neck before his brain could catch up with what he was doing. Rationally, he should've shoved him away and demanded to be put down immediately, but the moment Leon adjusted his grip beneath his legs, carrying him more securely against his chest, Lucien only held on tighter.

Leon slowed slightly as he walked through the warehouse.

The building had gone quiet again. Crickets buzzed somewhere beyond the open doors, and wind moved softly through the fields outside, but inside the only thing Leon could really hear was Lucien's breathing and the rapid pulse hammering against his chest where their bodies pressed together.

Too close.

Lucien was warm from sleep and leftover alcohol, all soft limbs and unguarded reactions, and Leon hated how naturally his hands fit against him. Years of boxing had roughened his palms, thin calluses scraping lightly over the back of Lucien's thighs every time he shifted. Lucien twitched at the sensation, and Leon's jaw tightened.

That softness was becoming a serious problem.

Everything about Lucien felt soft to him. His skin gave beneath Leon's hands so easily that it made something possessive and dangerous stir low in his stomach.

If Leon had actually been the kind of man Lucien imagined that night in the factory, there was no world where he would've let him walk away after their first meeting. He wouldn't have hurt him, but he absolutely would've kept him somewhere beautiful and impossible to escape from. Leon could picture it with disturbing clarity: Lucien wandering barefoot through some enormous estate hidden far from the city, expensive carpets beneath his feet while gold chains dragged lazily behind him whenever he tried to run. Leon would've filled the gardens with roses because Lucien would probably like them. He would've built fountains crowded with butterflies in the summer and made sure every room stayed warm enough that Lucien never had to shiver again.

At the same time, the walls surrounding the estate would've been impossibly high.

Nobody would've taken him away.

The thought settled darkly beneath Leon's ribs, heavy enough that he tightened his grip without realizing it.

"Stop squirming," he murmured. "You're going to fall."

Then he carried Lucien out into the moonlight.

The ranch looked completely different at night. Silver light stretched across the dirt paths between the cabins, and the fields beyond the fences disappeared into darkness. It took Lucien several seconds after reaching open air to realize something important.

"…Wait."

Leon glanced down at him.

"You were messing with me."

"A little."

Lucien stared at him in outrage before kicking his legs twice in protest.

"Put me down!"

Leon ignored him entirely.

"You keep carrying me around everywhere," Lucien complained. "Do I seriously look that easy to pick up?"

"Yes."

Lucien looked deeply offended by the honesty.

By the time they reached the cabins, he was still glaring. Leon finally set him down carefully, though his hands lingered at Lucien's waist for half a second longer than necessary before letting go.

"You can't just hug people whenever you want," Lucien muttered.

"In my defense," Leon said calmly, "you hugged me first."

"That was survival instinct."

"You wrapped both arms around my neck."

"You were threatening to murder me."

Leon's mouth twitched slightly. "And earlier tonight, you were touching my chest pretty enthusiastically. Is that also survival instinct?"

Lucien's entire face turned red.

God. Why did Leon remember absolutely everything?

Couldn't fighters get concussions? Temporary memory loss? Anything useful?

"I don't know what you're talking about," he mumbled quickly before turning and marching toward the cabins with as much dignity as possible.

Leon followed beside him easily.

"Can't sleep?" he asked after a while.

"Who said I can't sleep?"

"You were wandering around a dark warehouse after midnight."

Lucien folded his arms stubbornly. "I could fall asleep right now if I wanted."

Leon nodded thoughtfully. "That's unfortunate."

Lucien looked over suspiciously. "Why?"

"They started a bonfire near the orchard." Leon paused just long enough to make Lucien look interested before continuing. "I was originally coming to ask if you wanted to join us."

Lucien stopped so abruptly he nearly tripped over his own shoes.

"A bonfire?"

Leon looked down at him, amusement obvious in his gray-blue eyes.

Lucien straightened. "Open flames are dangerous. Someone responsible should supervise."

"Thank God you're here, then."

By the time they reached the orchard, the bonfire was already blazing brightly against the dark sky. Someone had dragged logs into a rough circle, and several members of the team sat around them drinking, shouting over music playing faintly from somebody's speaker while sparks spiraled upward into the night.

Joey noticed them first.

"There's the baby sheep!"

Lucien hesitated for a second, wondering what exactly the appropriate response to that nickname was. Hi, kissing man? Still, he waved politely.

"Hi, Joey."

Joey burst out laughing. "The beer nearly killed you."

Lucien lowered his head in immediate shame.

Honestly, he agreed.

Before Joey could continue, Leon spoke from beside him.

"And yours is good?"

Joey visibly became cautious.

Leon's expression remained completely calm. "Last month you got drunk, claimed you were going to the bathroom, and climbed out through a restaurant kitchen window."

"…Okay," Joey said. "New topic."

Lucien couldn't stop himself from laughing at that, the sound escaping before he could hide it. Leon turned toward him instantly.

Firelight reflected warmly in Lucien's eyes while he laughed, shoulders shaking slightly, and for a second Leon forgot what anyone else around them was saying.

"You're laughing at me?" Leon asked.

Lucien stopped smiling and glared instead.

"Why are you glaring now?" Leon asked mildly.

"This is exactly what I mean," Lucien complained. "You ask everything directly."

Leon frowned slightly. "Shouldn't I?"

"In China people are more reserved."

"Why?"

Lucien pointed accusingly at him. "See? You're doing it again."

Leon paused before nodding once in surrender. "Alright. Then teach me."

"Teach you what?"

"Your language. Your customs." Leon's gaze stayed fixed on him. "The way you think."

Lucien only really processed the first part.

"You want to learn Chinese?"

"Maybe."

"Why?"

Leon had already prepared an answer. "I travel internationally for fights. It could be useful."

Lucien considered that seriously before shaking his head. "You're rich. You could hire professional teachers."

Leon's eyes darkened slightly in the firelight. "I think I'd rather learn from you."

The words landed softly between them, quiet enough that Lucien suddenly became very aware of the warmth from the fire, the music drifting through the orchard, and the strange heaviness building again in his chest.

Then Joey yelled across the bonfire, "Are you two planning to flirt over there all night or are you coming?"

Lucien nearly died on the spot.

"I'm coming!"

He hurried toward the others before Leon could say anything else, leaving Leon standing there watching him go.

One of Leon's trainers had once told him that good fighters didn't rush the finish. The best predators stayed still until they were absolutely certain the prey had stopped looking for escape routes.

Leon understood that lesson very well now.

Because Lucien was finally starting to lower his guard around him, and once that happened, there would be no reason to keep pretending he wasn't hunting him at all.

By the time Leon joined the others, Lucien had already blended into the chaos. Someone was singing loudly and terribly off-key near the fire, and although Lucien clearly didn't know most of the lyrics, that didn't stop him from trying. He bounced around beside the flames anyway, singing random pieces confidently while several giant professional fighters shouted around him.

He looked absurdly out of place among them, like some tiny sheep that had wandered into a wolf pack and somehow gotten adopted instead of eaten.

At one point everyone raised bottles together during the chorus. Lucien raised orange juice instead.

Absolutely no more alcohol.

Leon stepped naturally into the empty space beside him, close enough that their shoulders brushed every time Lucien moved.

"Head still spinning?" he asked.

Honestly, Lucien looked perfectly fine now. The warmth from the fire had turned his cheeks pink, and excitement still glittered brightly in his eyes.

"No," Lucien said firmly before lifting his orange juice with dramatic seriousness. "But I'm never drinking again."

Leon laughed quietly.

Lucien studied him for a few seconds before speaking again. "When we first met, I thought you were terrifying."

"Only at first?"

"You still look scary sometimes," Lucien admitted honestly. "But your personality is actually pretty good."

That surprised Leon enough to make him blink once.

"Is it?"

"You smile a lot."

Leon almost asked who exactly he smiled around, because outside of Lucien, most people spent their time avoiding eye contact with him entirely.

The night stretched on around them while music drifted through the orchard and sparks crackled upward into the dark sky. Laughter mixed with the warm summer wind rolling across the ranch, and Lucien danced terribly beside the fire without the slightest embarrassment, completely off rhythm but still smiling brightly enough that nobody cared.

Nobody laughed at him.

If anything, everyone watched him with the same helpless amusement Leon felt tightening low in his chest, because Lucien looked more alive tonight than Leon had ever seen him before. Open. Relaxed. Happy in a way that made Leon unable to look anywhere else for very long.

The bonfire finally burned low sometime after midnight.

Leon walked Lucien back toward the cabins while the ranch settled into nighttime silence around them.

At Lucien's door, Leon stopped.

"You gonna survive sleeping alone tonight?"

Lucien bristled. "Obviously."

"You're scared of basements."

"I'm not scared," Lucien argued. "You people just tell horrifying stories for fun."

Leon leaned casually against the porch railing. "Call me if you get scared anyway."

"I said I won't."

Lucien disappeared dramatically into the cabin, though a second later one pale arm reappeared through the doorway long enough to wave at him with deeply unconvincing confidence before vanishing again.

Leon laughed quietly to himself as the door shut.

Inside the cabin, Lucien showered quickly before climbing into bed wrapped tightly in blankets. He'd slept too much earlier to feel tired now, so instead he scrolled through the pictures from today: the highway beneath the blue sky, the bonfire, the sheep, and one blurry accidental photo of Leon standing near the orchard with his sleeves rolled up.

Lucien stared at that photo for several extra seconds before moving on quickly.

Eventually he uploaded several scenery pictures to Twitter. No face photos. Just the ranch.

Almost next second, somebody replied.

Saoirse: Are you drunk?

Lucien narrowed his eyes.

Unbelievable.

Then he realized the username looked weirdly familiar, so out of curiosity he clicked into the profile. The newest post had been uploaded only a few minutes earlier: a mirror photo cropped just below the mouth, a fitted gray shirt stretched tightly across an unfair amount of muscle.

Honestly, Western men were built differently.

The chest under that shirt looked genuinely ridiculous.

Lucien politely liked the picture before exiting the account without thinking much about it.

Meanwhile, one cabin over, Leon sat on the couch staring at his phone with growing dissatisfaction.

He barely used social media in the first place. He'd only created the account after noticing Lucien scrolling through the app weeks ago, and now he found himself refreshing notifications repeatedly while an unlit cigarette rested between his fingers.

Still nothing except one single like.

Sure, technically it was heart-shaped, but Lucien didn't know the account belonged to him.

So what exactly did that mean?

Did he casually hand out hearts to random muscular strangers online all the time?

Earlier tonight Lucien had insisted people from his country were reserved. Leon was starting to question that definition very seriously.

After staring at the photo for another ten seconds, Leon deleted it entirely.

Suddenly he didn't want Lucien looking at it anymore.