Spectacular by K.L. Noone

Author:K.L. Noone [Noone, K.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-10-01T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 4

Their living room lights had an automatic setting, and were on when he and Colby came in; the low amber and occasional blue-green stained-glass flecks beckoned worn-out bodies into welcome. The tall shapes of the bookshelves stretched out worried arms, fantasies of dragons and warrior-queens and steampunk werewolf romance offering distractions, recognitions, long-known refuges of story. Their wedding photo, the gorgeous one taken out on a historic balcony at sunset by their friend—and Steadfast co-star—Leo’s boyfriend Sam, glowed with joy.

Colby dropped keys in their small dragon’s-egg metal bowl, kicked off his boots, shed his jacket and tossed it at the closest chair, where it landed in a splash of teal. Jason stood there watching him, not thinking much, phone in one hand because he’d been holding onto it in case Allie texted.

Colby took it from his unresisting grip and put it into a cardigan pocket. “Here, let me help with that.”

Jason lifted both arms. Let Colby remove his jacket. Noticed that Colby actually hung it up on a hook, unlike his own. Couldn’t quite work out how to mention that.

“Yes, I caught that, sorry.” Colby waved a hand. “I forgot. Apologies again. And then I remembered about yours, because you always do. I’ll get mine later. Shoes?”

“Huh?”

Colby gave him a small affectionate head-tip, a sideways smile; and then got down on the floor in their entryway, long legs folded up, and untied Jason’s left shoe and tugged.

“Oh,” Jason said. “Um…okay?” He hadn’t expected that, and he wasn’t sure he had the energy to be good at issuing dominant commands for Colby’s willing submission tonight, but if Colby wanted…something…he could try. “You know I’m not asking you for, um…”

Colby blinked up at him, setting Jason’s shoe aside. “Oh! Sorry, no. Not what I meant. Simply trying to help.” Sitting back on his heels, on the floor, he looked younger and very earnest: hair fluffed up more on one side than the other, violet sweater-sleeves shoved up, eyes big and sincere.

“Oh,” Jason said again. “Right. Sorry.” His brain wasn’t working well. “Also, um, even if we’re not…if you didn’t want, like…but, um, usual order. Standing one. You not apologizing for shit that doesn’t need it. That was like three, and you don’t have to.”

“Oh, well. Spank me later. Not tomorrow, I mean, later. Sometime.” Colby had finished with Jason’s other shoe, and set it down tidily by its mate. He got back up, after—Jason put out a helping hand instinctively, which Colby accepted—and added, “We do have lemons and brandy, which your grandmother suggested, and I do make an excellent hot toddy, but I think for now probably sleep is the best option, don’t you? Knitting up raveled sleeves of care, the balm of hurt, and all that. Come here?”

Jason came, because Colby being sweetly decisive and tenderly imperious was inarguable. Inevitable as love, as the way his heart responded. Blue and gold as hand-blown treasure-trove glass.

Colby took him off to their bedroom, steps matching, house and footfalls quiet. The midnight world pooled distant, hazy, haloed with aftermath and reprieve.

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