"I can't do this anymore," Lucien groaned in Chinese, collapsing backward against the couch cushions with all the drama of a man facing academic execution. "If I look at one more equation, I'm going to throw up."

Leon looked up from the pages spread across the coffee table.

His Mandarin still wasn't strong enough to catch every word cleanly, but he recognized enough.

Throw up.

His gaze dropped automatically to Lucien's stomach.

Without thinking, he reached over and pressed his palm lightly against it.

"It's flat," he said calmly. "Why would you throw up?"

Lucien froze.

Absolutely froze.

How did Leon manage to say things like that with a completely straight face?

Lucien sat upright immediately and covered his stomach with both hands like Leon had just tried to claim ownership over internal organs.

"You—"

Leon only looked back at him evenly, expression unreadable, as though he'd said something entirely reasonable.

Maybe he had.

Maybe Lucien's brain had just become permanently corrupted after too many conversations with Jamie.

That had to be it.

Because lately every sentence Leon said somehow sounded inappropriate.

Lucien cleared his throat and tried again more seriously.

"My head hurts. I don't wanna study anymore."

Leon watched him quietly for several seconds before nodding once.

"Fine. We stop here tonight." He closed the notebook and reached for a pen. "Tomorrow we'll continue from chapter four. I'll organize a schedule for you so you know what to review each day."

Lucien stared at him in horror.

"Tomorrow too?"

Leon didn't even blink.

"With your current level?" He leaned back against the couch slightly. "You need daily supervision until exams end."

Lucien dropped face-first into the cushions.

This wasn't tutoring anymore.

This was military occupation.

Leon finally laughed under his breath.

The sound stayed low and brief, but Lucien still heard it.

A second later Leon reached over and tapped lightly against his forehead with two fingers.

"Relax for a while." He nodded toward the shelves near the television. "I have games somewhere if you want them. Or movies."

Then he stood.

"I'll make dinner."

"Don't cook Chinese food tonight," Lucien said suddenly.

Leon paused halfway toward the kitchen and turned back.

Lucien looked up at him from the couch, chin resting against folded arms.

"You always cook special stuff for me." He hesitated slightly before adding, "I can eat whatever nutrition meals you normally eat."

Leon's eyebrow lifted slowly.

"Dangerous suggestion."

Lucien frowned. "Why?"

"Because professional athlete food tastes like punishment."

"Still wanna try it."

Leon studied him for another moment before reaching for his phone.

"Alright."

He made a quick call in clipped English while Lucien listened from the couch.

Protein portions.

Calories.

Delivery timing.

Then the call ended.

When Leon turned around again, Lucien was still watching him.

Something in Leon's chest tightened unexpectedly.

He walked back toward the couch before he could stop himself and dragged one hand slowly through Lucien's hair.

Soft.

Always soft.

Even when Lucien got annoyed with him, even when he glared or snapped or pretended to be angry, there was still something painfully gentle about him underneath it all.

Leon let his hand fall away before the temptation to touch longer became dangerous.

"What kind of movie do you wanna watch?"

Lucien brightened immediately.

"Have you seen Coco?"

"No."

"It's really good," Lucien said seriously. "I cry every time."

Leon frowned instinctively.

"Then maybe we should pick something else."

"No." Lucien shook his head immediately. "I like this one."

Leon watched him for a second longer before giving in.

"Alright."

If Lucien cried, Leon would deal with it.

How difficult could it possibly be?

As it turned out, extremely.

Because by the final act, Lucien was crying hard enough to look genuinely devastated.

His eyes had gone red first.

Then his nose.

Then the tears started falling so fast Leon couldn't even keep up with them anymore.

"Hey." Leon shifted closer automatically. "Don't cry."

Lucien wiped furiously at his face and only made things worse.

Leon muted the television.

"We can stop watching."

Lucien shook his head immediately even while tears kept sliding down his cheeks.

"If nobody remembers you," he said quietly, voice breaking around the words, "then you disappear."

Something about the sentence landed wrong inside Leon's chest.

Lucien curled slightly into himself on the couch while the dim television light flickered across his face.

"I think I'd disappear first."

Leon stared at him.

He knew pieces of Lucien's history already.

No family nearby.

No real support system.

Working constantly.

Studying constantly.

Trying so hard all the time without anybody taking care of him in return.

A loneliness that sat too deep beneath the surface.

Leon reached up before thinking and brushed his thumb beneath Lucien's eye just as another tear slipped free.

"I wouldn't let that happen," he said quietly.

Lucien looked up slowly.

Leon's eyes usually looked cold in low light because of their color, sharp and distant and difficult to read, but right now there was something softer underneath them that made Lucien's breathing catch unexpectedly.

"I'm embarrassing," Lucien muttered after a second.

Leon huffed a quiet laugh.

"No. You're human."

Then he crouched slightly in front of him until they were eye level.

"You know what Joey calls me behind my back?" Leon asked.

Lucien sniffed. "What?"

"Stone wall. Ice machine. Serial killer occasionally."

That actually pulled a tiny laugh out of Lucien.

Leon continued smoothly.

"They think I don't have emotions because I don't react to things normally."

"That's not true," Lucien said immediately, still thick with tears. "You're nice."

Leon's expression shifted for half a second.

Dangerously soft.

Before he could do something reckless, he reached out and flicked lightly at Lucien's ear instead.

"Go wash your face," he said. "Dinner's here."

Lucien muttered something under his breath but obeyed.

By the time he returned from the bathroom, the redness around his eyes had faded slightly.

The food waiting on the dining table, however, nearly made him stop walking entirely.

Salad.

Grilled chicken.

Salmon.

Vegetables.

Red wine.

Lucien looked betrayed.

"This is what you eat?"

Leon pulled out a chair for him.

"Usually."

Lucien sat slowly.

"This feels like rich people punishment."

Leon almost smiled.

"You said you wanted athlete food."

Lucien stabbed suspiciously at the salad.

Before he could complain further, thunder cracked violently outside the apartment windows.

He jumped hard enough to nearly drop his fork.

Rain hammered suddenly against the glass in thick sheets.

Leon glanced toward the storm calmly.

"They sent out weather warnings earlier," he said. "Looks like it's getting worse."

Lucien turned toward the windows.

The rain was coming down so heavily the city outside had almost disappeared completely.

Leon gave him a moment to realize the problem on his own before speaking again.

"You should stay here tonight."

Lucien looked back immediately.

"There are plenty of guest rooms," Leon added evenly. "I'll drive you back tomorrow."

For a second Lucien nearly refused automatically.

Then he remembered exactly why he'd come here today in the first place.

Testing Leon became a lot easier if he stayed overnight.

"…Okay," he said finally.

Leon turned back toward his wine glass before Lucien could notice the faint satisfaction that crossed his face.

Dinner ended quickly after that because there really wasn't much to enjoy unless someone had a personal grudge against flavor.

Lucien finished first and spent the rest of the meal staring mournfully at Leon's wine.

Leon noticed immediately.

"You wanna try it?"

Lucien shook his head on reflex.

Last time alcohol got involved, things had escalated directly into accidental chest touching.

Leon swirled the wine lazily.

"It's sweet," he said. "Barely strong at all."

Lucien hesitated.

Leon waited patiently.

Predictably, Lucien folded within seconds.

He accepted the glass carefully and took one cautious sip.

Then another.

Then several more.

Leon answered one message on his phone before looking back up again.

The entire glass was empty.

Lucien sat there licking wine slowly from his lower lip with complete concentration.

Leon's eyes darkened instantly.

"Good?"

Lucien nodded happily.

"Sweet."

Leon stared at his mouth for one dangerous second too long.

"You drank all of it," he said quietly. "I didn't even get to taste it."

Lucien blinked at him slowly, already starting to look warm around the cheeks.

Leon looked away first.

Because if he kept staring at that mouth while Lucien looked like that, the evening was going to end catastrophically.

"You should shower," he said instead. "The guest room's ready. Anything in the closet is clean."

"Okay."

Lucien stood.

Immediately swayed sideways.

Leon caught himself halfway out of his chair before forcing himself to stay seated.

Lucien eventually made it safely down the hallway through sheer determination and luck.

Leon cleaned the kitchen mostly to keep his hands occupied.

The apartment staff would've handled everything tomorrow anyway, but standing still felt dangerous tonight.

Especially with Lucien sleeping under the same roof.

By the time the dishes were done, the storm outside had become violent enough to shake the windows.

Leon stood near the glass overlooking the city while finishing several work calls.

Then the guest room door opened.

Leon turned automatically.

And forgot how breathing worked.

Lucien walked barefoot into the living room wearing one of Leon's white dress shirts.

Nothing else.

The shirt hung loosely enough to cover most of his thighs, but not enough to stop Leon's imagination from immediately turning ugly.

His damp hair dripped water onto the fabric, turning parts of the white cotton faintly transparent.

The buttons had been fastened wrong.

One side lower than the other.

The collar hung open carelessly against pale skin.

Lucien frowned down at himself completely unaware of the effect.

“The disposable underwear doesn’t fit,” he said with obvious annoyance, tugging lightly at the hem of the oversized shirt. “It slid down.”

Leon swallowed hard enough his throat hurt.

Because under the shirt—

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.