Lucien didn't wake up until almost noon.

Technically, he'd woken up once around sunrise when somebody outside had started yelling about horses, but he'd rolled over afterward, starfished across the entire bed, and gone right back to sleep with his stomach exposed to the cool air drifting through the cabin window.

The knocking at the door dragged him out of unconsciousness for real this time.

He groaned into the pillow, shoved messy hair out of his face, and stumbled toward the door in slippers while still half asleep.

The second he opened it, he regretted existing.

Leon stood outside leaning casually against the porch railing in a black tank top and dark sweats, sunlight cutting sharply across the muscles in his bare arms. Veins traced down his forearms when he shifted his weight, and the fabric stretched tight across his chest every time he breathed.

Lucien's eyes locked onto him automatically.

This was a problem.

A serious one.

His brain supplied additional information he absolutely did not need.

Like the fact that Leon always carried him one-armed.

Like the way those muscles probably tightened when he lifted him.

Like the way the veins in Leon's forearms might stand out harder if Lucien—

Nope.

Abort.

Now.

Leon noticed the staring almost instantly. The corner of his mouth moved slightly before he smoothed the expression away again.

"It's almost noon," he said calmly. "You hungry?"

Lucien blinked twice.

"No… maybe a little."

Leon reached over without hesitation and flattened down the piece of hair sticking straight up from the top of Lucien's head.

The touch was quick.Natural.Intimate enough to make Lucien's heartbeat stumble anyway.

"I'll wait for you," Leon said. "Go wake up properly."

Lucien nodded vaguely and shut the door behind him.

Then his brain caught up.

Heat rushed into his face.

What was wrong with him lately?

Seriously.

At some point he'd apparently developed a dangerous habit of staring at Leon's body like he was doing unpaid scientific research.

Knowing Leon was waiting outside made him move faster than usual. He changed clothes in record time, splashed water on his face, brushed his teeth, and practically sprinted back toward the door.

When he opened it again, Leon was sitting on the porch railing smoking.

The cigarette burned between his fingers for maybe half a second after Leon saw him before he crushed it out immediately against the metal ashtray beside him.

Lucien slowed slightly.

Leon stood and looked him over once.

"You ran out here?"

"What?"

"Your shirt."

Lucien looked down.

One button near the collar sat completely wrong.

Before he could fix it himself, Leon stepped closer and reached out automatically.

Lucien stopped breathing for approximately three business days.

Leon's fingers moved slowly over the buttons while Lucien stood there frozen, close enough to smell smoke still lingering faintly against his skin underneath the clean scent of soap and detergent.

Up this close, Lucien could only really see pieces of him at a time.

The sharp line of Leon's jaw.

His throat moving when he swallowed.

Messy blond hair falling slightly over his forehead because he hadn't styled it yet.

American features always looked aggressive to Lucien somehow, especially on Leon. Deep-set eyes, sharp cheekbones, broad shoulders built like violence waiting patiently in human form.

But Leon had still never once lost his temper with him.

Not even when Lucien deserved it.

"You're thinking hard again," Leon said quietly.

Lucien snapped back into reality.

"What?"

"What's going on in your head?"

Lucien panicked instantly.

"You—"

Leon lifted one eyebrow slowly.

"Me?"

His voice dipped lower.

"What about me?"

Lucien nearly died on the porch.

He corrected course so violently it probably caused internal damage.

"I was thinking you smoke a lot," he blurted.

Leon paused.

Then, unexpectedly:

"I don't."

Lucien blinked.

"I mean, sometimes." Leon stepped back after finishing the button. "Not often."

"You seemed stressed."

Leon looked at him for a long moment.

Something unreadable moved briefly through his expression before disappearing again.

"It's not stress," he said.

"Then what is it?"

A smile flickered faintly at the corner of Leon's mouth, slower this time, heavier somehow.

"You wouldn't want the real answer."

And then he walked toward the path leading down to the orchard before Lucien could embarrass himself further by asking questions he absolutely wasn't prepared to hear answered.

The truth was simple enough.

Leon didn't smoke because he was anxious.

He smoked because nicotine helped keep his self-control functional around Lucien.

Barely.

—

Everyone else had already eaten by the time Lucien finally appeared.

Breakfast had evolved into lunch hours ago.

Outside, the long wooden table had been reset beneath the shade trees with pale linen cloth, glass bottles filled with wildflowers, and fresh blueberry pancakes still steaming under a drizzle of honey.

Beside the plate sat warm milk in a ceramic cup.

Across from him, Leon drank black coffee that looked strong enough to dissolve concrete.

Lucien sat down immediately and started eating with the focus of a man healing emotionally through carbohydrates.

Halfway through his second pancake, he noticed Leon still wasn't eating anything.

"You always do this?"

Leon glanced up from his coffee.

"Do what?"

"Just drink coffee while everybody else eats actual food."

"Weight management."

"Oh."

Right.

Professional fighter.

Lucien frowned sympathetically before shoving another bite of pancake into his mouth.

"That's tragic."

Leon watched him chew for a second too long.

Honey had caught slightly at the corner of Lucien's mouth without him noticing. His lips looked glossy in the sunlight while he talked, and Leon had to drag his attention away before his thoughts got significantly less civilized.

"You hungry all the time?" Lucien asked.

Leon took another sip of coffee.

"Usually."

"That's horrible."

Lucien sounded genuinely offended on his behalf.

By the time he finished eating, the pancakes had disappeared entirely along with the milk.

Lucien leaned back in his chair afterward with one hand over his stomach, looking deeply at peace with life again.

"What now?" he asked. "Are we meeting the others?"

Leon shook his head once.

"No."

The answer came easily.

"Just us today."

Something about the words settled strangely warm under Lucien's ribs before he could stop it.

An hour later, Leon handed him a pair of gloves and a small metal bucket near the blueberry fields.

Lucien stared at the orchard in silence.

It stretched forever.

Rows and rows of bushes disappeared into the distance beneath the bright summer sky.

"…This is insane."

Leon laughed quietly beside him.

"You thought ranches were decorative?"

"I thought they were smaller."

"You also thought I was a serial killer."

"Those felt unrelated at the time."

Leon's mouth twitched again.

Lucien followed him into the rows anyway, crouching down beside the bushes while Leon showed him how to spot the ripest blueberries.

Soon the metal bucket began filling with soft thudding sounds every time another berry dropped inside.

It was weirdly satisfying.

By the time Lucien finished half a bucket, his lower back already hurt.

The second Leon noticed him stretching slightly, he took the bucket from his hands.

"That's enough."

"I can keep going."

"You're here to relax, not become agricultural labor."

Lucien looked pleased with his half-bucket anyway.

"I can make blueberry jam with these."

"Yeah?"

"I'll let you try it."

Leon glanced at him sideways.

"I'm honored."

They started walking back through the orchard together.

Lucien had just pulled off his gloves when something moved near the branches beside him.

His eyes shifted automatically.

Then froze.

A spider the size of his palm hung beside him in the sunlight, bright markings spread across its body like stained glass.

Lucien's soul evacuated.

He made a strangled noise and launched himself directly at Leon without hesitation.

One second he was standing beside him.

The next, he was fully attached.

Leon caught him automatically, arms locking around Lucien's waist while Lucien climbed him like survival depended on it.

Honestly?

It might have.

"There's a spider," Lucien whispered in horror against Leon's neck. "A huge one. Colored. That means poison."

Leon looked over Lucien's shoulder toward the branch.

Garden spider.

Completely harmless.

He did not share this information.

Instead he adjusted his grip beneath Lucien's thighs and rubbed one slow hand up and down his back.

"It's gone," he said calmly. "You're okay."

Lucien refused to move.

His entire body stayed tense against Leon's chest while his fingers twisted tightly into the fabric of Leon's tank top.

"Can we leave now?"

Leon started walking at the same time.

He could feel Lucien trembling slightly every time another branch moved nearby in the wind.

Honestly, Leon would've carried him across the entire state if necessary.

By the time Lucien realized they'd already left the orchard completely, they were halfway back toward the cabins.

He lifted his head slowly.

"…Wait."

Leon looked down.

"You're still carrying me."

"Correct."

"I can walk now."

"Can you?"

"Yes!"

Leon didn't put him down.

Lucien kicked his legs once in protest.

"You're doing this on purpose."

"Probably."

Lucien stared at him in outrage.

"You can't just carry me everywhere because I'm short."

Leon's gaze slid slowly over him.

"I think I can."

Lucien's ears turned red.

That was the problem with Leon.

Sometimes he said things that sounded normal at first, and then three seconds later Lucien's brain processed them incorrectly and everything became dangerous.

"Put me down."

Leon finally stopped walking.

But even then he didn't release him.

Instead he looked at Lucien quietly for a moment too long.

Lucien was flushed from panic and sunlight both, soft hair messy from the wind, eyes still slightly wide from the spider incident.

Beautiful.

Leon realized the thought too naturally now.

Way too naturally.

Eventually he lowered Lucien back onto the ground.

The second his feet touched grass, Lucien retreated backward several dramatic steps and looked up at Leon suspiciously.

Leon only looked back calmly.

No guilt.

No embarrassment.

Nothing obvious enough to accuse him of.

Which somehow made things worse.

"…Thank you," Lucien muttered finally.

"Anytime."

Leon's voice stayed easy.

"You're under my protection here."

The words landed harder than they should have.

Lucien looked away quickly.

"I'm gonna go change."

"Okay."

Leon watched him hurry back toward the cabins without another word.

Only after Lucien disappeared inside did Joey appear beside him holding an iced drink.

"So," Joey said, "how far along are we here?"

Leon didn't look away from the cabin.

"We're not."

Joey blinked.

"For real?"

That genuinely shocked him.

Leon finally glanced over.

"Don't joke about him anymore."

Joey straightened slightly at the tone.

"He's different."

And he meant it.

Lucien wasn't somebody Leon wanted to overwhelm or corner or drag into bed before he understood what was happening between them.

Everything about Lucien felt slower.

Softer.

More careful.

Leon had wanted him from the first night.

Wanted him enough that self-control sometimes physically hurt.

But wanting wasn't the same thing as taking.

Joey stared at him for another second before groaning dramatically.

"Okay, but does he even know you're flirting with him?"

Leon went silent.

Because unfortunately—

that was an excellent question.

Meanwhile, inside the cabin, Lucien paced across the floor in emotional crisis.

What did Leon mean?

Seriously.

What exactly did any of this mean?