The master suite took up most of the third floor.

The bed was so large Lucien was convinced he could host a soccer match on the mattress.

Leon walked up behind him, wrapping his arms around Lucien's waist. "There's a water bed in the guest room if you want to try something new."

Lucien shook his head—his face flaming. "No. I'm traditional. I like stable surfaces."

Leon's mouth found the shell of Lucien's ear. "Is that why you scream so loud when I hold you up? Because you lose your balance?"

"Leon! Stop!"

Lucien twisted away, his heart hammering. "I'm going to make a change. I want to take Coco for a walk."

Lucien looked like a bear cub in the oversized parka Leon forced him into.

Coco sprinted across the frost-covered grass, barking at the shadows of the hedges.

Leon walked slowly, his fingers interlaced with Lucien's. He held on tight, as if Lucien might vanish into the winter mist if he let go.

"Don't be nervous," Leon murmured, his voice a low frequency in the quiet garden.

"This is my home. Which means it's yours too. Understand?"

Lucien looked up at the towering silhouette of the manor, then at the man beside him.

He leaned his head against Leon's shoulder, letting out a long, peaceful breath.

"Then I guess I finally have a home, too."

---

Lucien had lived at the manor for nearly a week, but the luxury still felt disorienting. There were too many wings, too many identical corridors.

He'd taken a wrong turn after two flights of stairs. Now, he was surrounded by heavy oak doors that all looked exactly the same.

He finally pulled out his phone to call for a rescue. While waiting for Leon, he nudged one of the doors open.

The room was a library, the ceiling reaching toward the sky. Walls of leather-bound books in languages he couldn't read stared back at him.

Lucien wandered toward a shelf near the window. A silver frame caught the light—a family portrait from years ago.

Leon's mother was a classic beauty, looking more like a cinema icon than a socialite. Between her and a stern man sat a blonde teenager.

Lucien laughed softly. Even as a high schooler, Leon Bolton looked like he was ready to punch the cameraman. A golden-haired, grumpy little king.

A rhythmic thud of heavy footsteps echoed in the hall. Leon sauntered in, his steel-gray eyes locking onto the frame in Lucien's hand.

"You were handsome as a kid," Lucien chirped, waving the photo. "A bit of a brat, though."

Leon's brow arched. He stepped into Lucien's space, his massive frame blocking out the library light.

"Him or me?" Leon asked, his voice dropping into that dangerous, gravelly register. "Who's more handsome?"

"Are you really jealous of your younger self?" Lucien teased.

Leon didn't answer with words. He snagged Lucien by the waist, hoisting him up and sitting him firmly on the mahogany desk.

Lucien tried to slide off, but Leon's arms acted like iron bars on either side of his hips. He was caged.

"Don't run," Leon commanded. "Answer the question. Who do you pick?"

Lucien glanced at the photo of the cold-eyed boy, then back at the man before him. His heart began a frantic rhythm against his ribs.

Leon leaned in until their lips were a breath apart. "You know why I learned to box? My father wanted me to vent."

"In high school, I liked the violence," Leon whispered, his teeth grazing Lucien's lower lip. "If that kid caught you in an alley... he wouldn't be this polite."

Lucien swallowed hard. The image flashed in his mind: a blonde delinquent pinning him against a brick wall in the rain.

He imagined present-day Leon watching from the shadows, eyes dark with possessive rage. Like catching an unfaithful lover.

"So? Does the brat win?" Leon's voice was a rough scrape against Lucien's ear.

"No— Leon, wait—" Lucien gasped as Leon's mouth crashed against his.

The kiss was brutal, a punishment for a thought Lucien hadn't even finished. His tongue felt raw, his lips swollen under the assault.

Leon's hands clamped around Lucien's wrists, pinning them to the desk. He flipped him over with predatory ease.

"Not here, Leon," Lucien muffled into the wood.

"Why not?" Leon's chest hummed against Lucien's back. "I did my homework on this desk. It's a very... academic setting."

Lucien shivered, his skin flushing a vivid pink. He could almost see the phantom of that teenage Leon watching them.

"Look at me," Leon commanded. He ripped open Lucien's shirt, buttons scattering across the floor like rain.

Lucien's eyes went red with unshed tears. He saw Leon's smirk—dark, hungry, and entirely unrepentant.

Leon's large hand traced the curve of Lucien's spine, moving slowly, savoring the way the boy trembled.

"Since you like the student version of me so much," Leon murmured. "Can the fountain pen go in?"

"No!" Lucien shrieked, struggling to move. "Don't you dare!"

Hours later, Leon carried a limp, tear-stained Lucien toward the master suite.

Lucien sniffled, then suddenly lunged forward, sinking his teeth into Leon's solid chest muscle.

Leon didn't flinch. He just watched Lucien vent his rage with a faint, amused tilt to his mouth.

"Do the other side too," Leon suggested. "Make the marks symmetrical."

"You're a monster," Lucien hissed, though he didn't let go of Leon's neck.

Leon set him down in the black marble tub. He tossed a rainbow-colored bath ball into the water.

"I'll wash you," Leon offered, his eyes already tracking the way Lucien's wet hair clung to his forehead.

"Get out!" Lucien splashed water at him. "I can do it myself!"

Leon laughed and actually stepped out, leaving Lucien to soak his aching muscles in peace.

Lucien emerged later, wrapped in a towel, to find Leon on the phone.

"No party," Leon was saying. "I'm staying home with him."

"Lucien! Is that you?" Joey's voice shrieked through the speaker.

Lucien stood on his tiptoes to reach the phone. "Hi, Joey!"

"Lucien, tell Leon to stop being a hermit! It's his birthday in two days! We want to celebrate!"

The phone went dead. Lucien turned to Leon, his eyes narrowing.

"Your birthday? You didn't tell me?" Lucien tackled him, hanging off Leon's neck like a disgruntled kitten.

"I don't care about it," Leon rumbled, kissing Lucien's nose. "Being with you is enough."

"That's not the point! What do you want? Ask for anything!"

Leon's eyes darkened, his hand sliding lower. "Anything?".

Lucien slammed a hand over Leon's mouth. "No. Not me. This lamb is empty! I have nothing left!"