The bed, unsurprisingly, was a mess. Leon picked up a pillow, inconsiderately left on the floor, or more likely knocked there while they had been distracted, and tossed it onto the bed before flopping after it. Sinking into the mattress was a welcome relief, and for once, the absence of the rocking motion didn’t make his gut clench slightly. He ached with the weariness of intense exercise, and while the shower had been refreshing, he’d been so jelly-limbed that it had been impossible to enjoy it to the fullest extent.

“It feels so good,” Leon moaned into the mattress, as though Rick hadn’t been sharing the bed for the past few days. But while the bed had always been comfortable, for weary limbs, it was nothing short of heavenly. If Rick didn’t have more willpower than Leon, not that it was setting the bar high, then they were doomed to a cold night; the sheets were at Leon’s feet and he wasn’t sitting up to retrieve them. Of course, given the climate and Rick’s body heat, a cold night wouldn’t be unbearable, but given the choice, sheets were the better option.

The mattress dipped as Rick joined him, and Leon smiled to himself. For once, Rick’s many preventative measures against seasickness didn’t fill Leon with a sense of discontent at the stillness of the ship’s deck. All because Rick was so precious he couldn’t bear to be sea sick. It was useful, he could admit that much, but it was still bizarre to walk around a ship that was so still, so removed from the reality of nature. Right now, it meant that Rick’s weight was the only thing that could cause the mattress to move, and there was no way that Leon could fall off in the night.

No matter how practical it was for sleeping, Leon was still looking forward to getting off the boat. Not just because it was unnatural and weird, but because when they did, they would no longer be surrounded by school children. Meeting Maiko had been lovely, and it was nice spending time with Shona, but the children were… time consuming. Not to mention they required early mornings, and Leon was incapable of talking before he’d had coffee. Sometimes two coffees, if things were bad. There were some advantages – they arrived at their destinations early, before the more indolent tourists had woken up, and even if he was seeing it in company of two dozen obnoxious children, Leon was seeing things he’d never seen before. And, if Leon was fair, of the two of them, Rick was suffering more. It served him right for being unbearably attractive.

He moved with a sigh, lifting his head just enough to breath and wriggling until he could rest it on a pillow, turning so he could face Rick. There was a pause, and then Leon laughed, possibly more than the situation warranted, rolling onto his back with the force of it. “If you’re offering at a more reasonable hour, I’ll take you up on that,” Leon promised, still grinning. “You would make a very handsome French girl, I’m sure.”

With a smugness both inherent and startling, perhaps, to those who knew him well (or well enough), Rick smiled, satisfied, as Leon laughed. Four months later, and it still—filled Rick with that same, stupid warmth, watching Leon laugh. He wasn’t one for loud or boisterous laughter, but when he did, everything just—

“Only very?” Dropping the pose, Rick snaked an arm around Leon’s waist, slinging a leg over his for good measure—shifting closer until there was nothing but skin between them. Leon was lighter than he was – just as his wiry build suggested – but it was all lean muscle, solid and capable, and Rick liked to wrap himself around it all just as much as he did the other way around. “I must be losing my touch.”

Not for the first time since they had boarded the ship was he ever so damn glad Leon had agreed to join him—to join the crew, if someone wanted to get technical about it, but he had never been one to lie to himself, especially when the truth had been as simple as that: he wanted Leon around. It wasn’t that he couldn’t handle a boatful of kids, or an older sister whom he loved but sometimes had to get away from, or even responsibility of a ship despite a tendency to get seasick, it was just… He simply preferred not to, if he didn’t have to. He wanted Leon around, period.

Four months in, and Rick still wanted. Four months in, and he’d show up at the café by the time Leon’s shift was over. They’d go to Rick’s place or his (Rick’s, usually), settle down, have dinner, get ready for bed. When one was up late working, the other would check up on him—get him to bed, ideally, but come back with a coffee and a snack, too, if sleep wasn’t an option. Breakfast was a regular thing when neither was busy, and Rick got the coffee ready because he woke up first and Leon was over that often. Sometimes they didn’t even have sex at all–

They had a routine, was the thing. They were fucking domestic. Rick would be embarrassed if he weren’t so happy all the damn time.

And now here he was, cushioning his head with his other arm, hair still flat and spiky from the shower and fingers brushing against the nape of his neck. Even as Leon’s laugh melted into something quiet and fond, the warmth in his chest had yet to fade; if anything, it only grew. “Should I leave you alone?” he teased. Fingertips found their way to the small of the sculptor’s back, lightly stroking the gentle dip of his spine. “Since you need your rest–”

Leon shifted slightly under Rick’s warm weight, moving so he would still be able to feel his toes come morning. “Stop fishing,” he said, the words soft and affectionate rather than irritated. If he did find it irritating, he would be in a state of perpetual annoyance around Rick. As it was, though, “you know you’re the handsomest.” His voice trailed off as he finished, frowning uncertainly, before he decided it didn’t matter if handsomest was a word or not.

Rather than lift his whole body, and the weight of Rick’s leg, Leon turned his head so that he could see Rick. The light was dim enough that he couldn’t pick out the colours of Rick’s eyes properly, even though Rick was within breathing distance. But there was enough that he could see Rick’s face properly, that he was sure Rick could see his own smile, warm with affection.

The idea was ridiculous – and Rick knew it. Even in such oppressively humid heat, even though by some freak of nature Rick was always warm, Leon had been sharing a bed with him for the holiday and planned to do so until the holiday finished. Ideally, they would do so as often as possible after that. He wouldn’t say that he slept better with Rick, exactly, because Rick or no, once Leon fell asleep, he didn’t wake up until he had to. But falling asleep with Rick was better than falling asleep alone, and there wasn’t any question about whether he’d rather wake up to an empty bed or one with Rick in. Sure, sometimes he insisted that Leon got out of bed far before he was ready to, but he also made him coffee. It seemed like a small thing, perhaps, but the sight of Rick with bed head and two mugs of coffee made the day feel less daunting.

“Maybe I did break your brain,” Leon suggested, an arm going over Rick’s to make his point perfectly clear. “If I haven’t been getting enough rest, it’s because of you.” Not Rick’s fault, because Leon was equally guilty, but it was also true that if Rick weren’t there, Leon would have been getting far more sleep.

His fingers were resting over Rick’s hip, his thumb brushing idly back and forth, “but if you want to roam around at night, I won’t stop you from enjoying your brooding.” The offer was only made because Leon was sure Rick wouldn’t accept it, though he was sure Rick would be good at it – he had the cheekbones to pull off dark and tortured. And the eyebrows, although Leon thought making the fuzzy caterpillars a tool for brooding was unnecessary. Plus, Leon knew that Rick wore jumpers with thumb holes, and he couldn’t quite get that to reconcile with Rick brooding.

Rick chuckled, a warm huff of amusement as he shifted his head even closer, until Leon’s gaze was a ready outline in the darkness, clear as day. “I don’t brood,” he scoffed—a corner of his mouth tugging upwards anyway. The hand at Leon’s back dug in, drawing together in a playful pinch. The leg over Leon’s tightened. “I reflect. There’s a difference.”

All this was uttered as Rick slowly pushed himself up onto an elbow, supporting himself as he lowered his head to mouth along the younger man’s shoulder. Lips peeled back as teeth gently clamped around skin, too light to mark but as possessive as it was easy. Casual. Beneath the fresh scent of soap and the inherent warmth that was Leon, the smell of them lingered still. It made Rick want to pin him flat against the bed, hitch a leg up and bite.

And beneath that? Affection. Contentment. Both suffused Rick like a flush, encouraged by the warm regard with which Leon looked at him. He’d seen it before, directed towards him by other people, but with Leon it was… new, unfamiliar. Like new territory that would soon be–


—home.


He brushed his nose against the low slope of Leon’s neck, stubbled cheek lightly scraping against jaw. “ ‘m glad you’re here,” he murmured, kissing Leon’s throat. It wasn’t the first time Rick had said it (and with the way things were looking, it wouldn’t be the last), but under the cover of soft, predawn darkness it felt almost like a confession: honest, vulnerable, and quietly reverent. If he had any say in the matter, that wouldn’t change, as corny as that might be.

All things considered, though, he could probably be forgiven. It wasn’t every day someone accepted just about all that you were.

Lips found a spot on collarbone, tender with the promise of bruising. Under that cover of predawn darkness, Rick smirked. He smoothed his hand down Leon’s back… palming that fucking perfect ass for the sole purpose of shuffling their legs until it was Leon’s slung over a hip—Rick’s hip. Coarse hairs brushed and sensitive skin caught (making the werewolf twitch with interest), and yet…

Well. They had only just showered.

Rick traced the darkening marks with his mouth. But they were light touches, practically chaste. “What’re you thinking about?”

“Yes,” Leon agreed, “you brood.” His thumb flicked over Rick’s nipple as he spoke before his fingers moved on, idly tracing over Rick’s chest. “You wear too much black to reflect,” he explained, expression almost apologetic. It wasn’t quite fair, but Rick’s wardrobe was exactly the kind of thing a brooding anti-hero would wear, only slightly tighter.
 
“ ‘m glad you’re here,”

 “I’m glad I’m here, too,” Leon replied, tilting his head back slightly. It was – for all his misgivings – true. Maybe it wasn’t exactly what he’d hoped it would be, but it was still better than staying in London would have been. He could have gone without seeing Rick, but he didn’t want to. Sleeping in an empty bed held no appeal.

“What’re you thinking about?”

  His hand continued its slow passage as Rick’s dipped lower, and Leon pressed into the contact before lifting his leg a little higher. “That we’re going to need to shower again if you keep that up,” Leon said, but he couldn’t sound upset about that. Sleep was tempting, true, but it had nothing on Rick. And Rick probably suffered more, having to deal with Leon in the mornings on top of not getting enough sleep.

 Attention focused elsewhere, Leon was quiet (though not entirely silent). The urgency of earlier was gone, replaced with a slower, more lingering interest. One which made smaller touches seem more powerful, the heat of Rick’s hand lingering after it had moved on.

 There was a long pause before he spoke again, words not so carefully considered as he would have liked, “It’s not that I’m not enjoying the holiday, or that I don’t want to be here, but I’ve been thinking about what I’m going to do when we’re back in London.” It had been pressing on him since before the trip, but in recent days he’d been thinking about it more. It wasn’t that he wanted to talk about it now, but he’d had opportunities to bring it up before and he’d squandered them in favour of enjoying his time with Rick more fully. Even if it ruined his chances of needing a second shower, he should say something.

 “Living with Irina is nice, but I want to move out.” It had been a temporary measure, but it had already gone on longer than they’d first been planning. Not doing anything about moving out, when Irina’s flat was far nicer than anything he could afford, was all too easy. Going on holiday had been the reminder that he’d needed. “I’m going to move out,” he corrected himself.

Leon was not entirely wrong. Briefly, almost infinitesimally, Rick paused in his ministrations, frame stilling to hide his surprise. But just as smoothly he resumed—mouthing along at Leon’s skin, reacquainting himself with a constellation of moles he was particularly fond of. Continuing, maybe, as though his heart wasn’t beating a little faster.

They were long past the time in which Rick kept things from Leon, whether for his own dignity or Leon’s safety; there was little the other wizard didn’t know, now, that what he did would be enough to supply a lifetime’s worth of embarrassment for Rick—or have him put away for a very long time. Whatever shadows that gathered beneath the bags of his eyes, Leon could guess even better than Shona, who was the werewolf’s alpha as much as his sister. Leon knew what Rick liked, ate, drank—that he snored, sometimes, when he was especially tired—how he spent mornings before Leon or the sun were up—even the many shitty things he’d done before coming to London. Rick – who had turned natural wariness into a survival skill – trusted him far more than he did (or should) anyone who wasn’t family.

But relationships… Even without criminal activities to cast a shadow theirs was still one carefully tread. They were both adults – sound, intelligent, thinking adults, with enough personal experiences to know their own minds – but there still some… things, that colored the way they felt about certain matters and how they handled them.

Specifically, an age difference.

Rick was happy with where they were, and how they were. He was older, yes, not to mention used to doing things his way with little concern for others, and private as hell, but he had zero interest in using either as an excuse to ‘take charge’, or whatever it was people assumed—unless, of course, it was something they both wanted; if anything, it was more reason not to. He was nearly thirty, but Leon was only just turning twenty-one. Whatever Rick wanted (or suspected that he did; he wasn’t examining it too closely just yet), it wasn’t important enough to push onto Leon before he– before they– were ready. Rick wasn’t that kind of guy. He prided himself on not being that kind of guy.

And it was for that reason he let the words sink in, gave them enough time to settle as well as himself to choose his own words carefully. Leon was waiting for his reaction, and he didn’t want to disappoint—in any way whatsoever.

He pressed one last, lingering kiss to the center of Leon’s chest, lips brushing against that dark dusting of hair before settling on his elbows. “Did you have somewhere specific in mind?” he inquired, genuinely curious. “I know Aisling mentioned there being a few vacancies at Hiraeth. And Dragon Towers.” There were others, of course – he’d kept an eye out for listings ever since Leon first mentioned it, whether he realized it or not at the time – but a few weeks later found him less and less impressed with what came up, until he realized why. Now, only Hiraeth would do. (Though personally he thought there were too many werewolves and veelas for his comfort. Aurors lived there, for fuck’s sake.)

But the sooner Leon left Atreus, the better. For that, Rick would be supportive, no matter how much it made him grit his teeth. Unless…

“Or you could move in. With me,” he added stiltedly, shifting restlessly. It was an idea that had been floating around for a while now, one that he’d been careful to ignore, but every once in a while he would catch himself staring at empty sheets or the drawer full of clothes that weren’t his, and just—want. Badly.

He offered Leon a wry smile. Even if his things outnumbered Leon’s now… “The flat’s half yours already.”

Leon shrugged a single shoulder, “It would be nice to live so near to Aisling.” He had looked at Hiraeth – even in the capital, there was a limit to wizarding real estate, or at least the kind which came within his budget. Muggle London was less limited, thanks to sheer volume, but he didn’t really want to live in a muggle flat again. Transferring between two different currencies was irritating for one, and for another, muggle housing meant a lot more tax forms.

“Or you could move in. With me. The flat’s half yours already.”

Leon went still, staring at Rick before very carefully extricating himself so that they weren’t touching quite so much. He realised what that looked like only after he’d done it, “I just need some space to think clearly.” He stretched out a hand anyway, rubbing the thumb against Rick’s stubble in reassurance. “You’re distracting,” he smiled, the words fond. He usually enjoyed being distracted by Rick, but this was… important.

It was something he had considered, but as a future event. Maybe not the distant future, but not the immediate future either. There were a lot of things he’d thought about doing with Rick, one day.

But that was the problem. Even if Leon went from the first time they’d met, which was more than slightly dubious as a starting point, they’d known each other five months. It wasn’t much to make that kind of commitment on, even though he was aware of the skeletons in Rick’s closet. Maybe not much about the skeletons, but he knew Rick. He trusted that Rick would tell him anything which was important when he was ready.

More than that, though, Leon wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to lose his independence. Not that he thought Rick would do anything to hinder his independence, but living with someone changed things, and Leon didn’t want to be dependent on Rick. He had been looking forward to being self-sufficient again, and he wasn’t sure that he wanted to give that up. If it were moving in with Rick and splitting rent, Leon would be okay with it, but this was… not that. It was big thing to rely on Rick for.

His fingers tightened around Rick, his eyes drifting shut briefly. Because even though he wanted to be independent, even though they’d only been dating for four months, he still didn’t want to say no. He was bad at saying no to Rick anyway, although he had been managing to say later and actually stick to it more frequently, but this had more to do with Leon staying over regularly (or Rick staying with him) to the point that he had his own draw of clothes (though some of the t-shirts were technically Rick’s) and a whole host of other crap. Rick was easy to spend time with, whether they were literally wrapped around each other or talking while they both did their own thing.

It had a lot to do with Rick’s ability to make Leon smile even when he was irritated – especially when he was irritated. With the way Rick’s voice changed when he talked about his family. With arguments about who got to be the little spoon. With the pang of want that Rick’s offer had caused, enough that it drowned out the reasons that Leon shouldn’t be moving in with Rick.

“I want to,” Leon confessed eventually, eyes on Rick’s, “I really want to.” He looked down to where his hand was curled around Rick’s hand, then back up to Rick, “You’ve thought about this.” It was a simple realisation, but one which meant a lot to Leon. Rick wanted him to move in, for better or for worse, and had thought about it enough to offer it. “I need some time to think about it too, before I say for sure.”

As soon as Leon froze, Rick did as well, eyes locked on Leon’s, smile slipping ever so slightly as the younger man pulled away. It wasn’t until he reached out in reassurance that the werewolf realized he’d gone stiff, benumbed by the thought that he had moved too fast—asked for too much.

He let his eyes drift shut then, inclining his face into Leon’s palm, nosing it as he pretended he wasn’t going quietly pink with embarrassing relief.

Silently Rick watched him—watched his eyes drift shut, the mind behind them quietly mulling Rick’s suggestion over. Rick was no mindreader, but if the things Leon was thinking of were what Rick suspected they were, then he would have every scrap of quiet he needed to think this through. They both knew that what Rick was offering would be a big step for them—larger, perhaps, than what was already obvious. Only a part of it –at least half, if not most– was about independence. The rest of it, from what Rick understood, went back to the age difference (which wasn’t really about numbers as much as what they meant). Leon never indicated as much in so many words, but sometimes…

Well. It just wasn’t a decision to be made lightly. And there would be no regrets for either of them, if they could help it.

Keenly aware of the hand on his, Rick felt his heart speed up again at Leon’s answer. I want to. It wasn’t an immediate ‘yes’, but even so, it wasn’t a solid rejection, either. The werewolf neither nodded nor smiled at Leon’s final answer, but the lack thereof couldn’t have been more obvious than the open, understanding way in which he gazed at him. “Of course,” said Rick, and with Leon’s hand still atop of his, he brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it lightly.

Still, though, he had to offer. “If it’d help, we could have a written agreement,” he said, eyes thoughtful. Gently he mouthed a not-quite kiss against one of Leon’s knuckles and dragged his lips down. Fine hairs tickled his upper lip. “Irina could look it over—see if there’s anything we’re forgetting, anything we should…” He lowered his gaze, lashes fanning across his cheeks, as he grazed his teeth along the inseam of Leon’s finger. “Prepare for.”

Eyes on Leon, Rick slowly wrapped his lips around Leon’s fingertip.