November 29, 2020—Seattle, Washington—The Next Day
Seattle’s night air seeped into his very being, a sting of icy chill—a stark contrast to the warm, gentle embrace of Mediterranean winters that Adrian had known all his life.
Logan barely flinched. He had weathered colder things—loneliness, regret, the hollow ache of missing Adrian.
But Adrian, wrapped in the delicate warmth of the Israeli sun for most of his life, shivered.
Without a word, Logan ripped open his suitcase, pulling out the thickest coat he could find, and wrapped it around Adrian’s shoulders, his fingers lingering there, pressing into the bones that jutted out sharper than they used to.
He murmured against Adrian’s skin, his voice low, solid, “Now that you’re no longer in the Middle East, we’ll get you proper winter gear.
” Then, with the tenderness of a man who had lost too much to ever take anything for granted again, he kissed the tip of Adrian’s nose, as if to warm him from the inside out.
They moved through the night like two drifters on a vast and empty sea, tossing their luggage and Adrian’s beloved guitar case into a cab’s trunk. Logan leaned forward, giving the driver the address of the home he had barely seen before choosing on impulse.
It felt unreal. The last time Logan had traced these streets, he had been drowning, every familiar building a rip current pulling him under, every familiar smell, every whisper of wind, a reminder of what he had lost. He had walked through this city with his hands in his pockets and his heart in his throat, stifling in the absence of Adrian.
He had told himself Adrian would never want him again.
That he had shattered something beyond repair.
And yet now, impossibly, Adrian was here.
His body had changed, his frame slenderer, his muscles softened by time and sickness, but his eyes, those molten-whiskey eyes, still held that same quiet kindness, that same depth, as endless as the horizon.
And his smile—God, his smile—was still the same.
It cracked something inside Logan, something he had kept locked away, something he had feared he’d never feel again.
Love.
Love so deep it eclipsed reason, so vast it could pull the tide. Love that had survived two years of distance, of silence, of regret. Love that sat right beside him now, in a cab in the middle of a city that had once felt like a graveyard, but tonight… felt like home.
The cab weaved through the streets near Seattle-Tacoma International Airport, where the roads stretched wide and empty under the dim glow of streetlights.
The rain-slick pavement shimmered like black glass, reflecting the neon hum of convenience stores and the occasional lonely restaurant, their windows fogged with warmth against the biting night air.
“We need to stop at my parents’ place,” Logan croaked, gripping Adrian’s hand more tightly as if braced for impact.
Adrian peeked at him, his fingers lacing through Logan’s, offering silent reassurance as the cab hummed forward. “Is there a particular reason?” he asked, his thumb pressing gently against Logan’s wrist.
“A few, actually.” Logan exhaled, his breath uneven.
“I left at a haste. Walked out of work. Walked out of everything. My mom’s beside herself.
She and my father don’t understand the divorce from Sandy, don’t understand why I just disappeared.
” He paused, swallowing, his fingers tightening around Adrian’s.
“And… I want them to meet you. I want to explain to them what happened. I want them to know why I left.”
He came to a stop, the words and their meaning too vast to be conveyed all at once.
Adrian’s warmth was comforting in a way that gutted him. “I get that,” Adrian murmured gently. “Do you want me there?” Always, the kindness in Adrian roared louder than any storm.
Logan turned to Adrian, his gaze fierce. “Always. I want you with me always. Everywhere, every time. Clear?”
Adrian’s cheeks flushed, his lips parting slightly in silent surrender. He nodded.
Logan studied him for a moment, then exhaled, his fingers tightening around Adrian’s.
There was something raw in his eyes, something tender and desperate all at once.
“I don’t have enough money for the treatments.
” Those words were stones dropping into a deep, dark abyss.
“I need to borrow it from my dad. And before you get angry, I didn’t tell you because I knew you wouldn’t agree.
But I need you to get better. And money won’t be the reason you don’t. ”
Adrian stiffened, his jaw tightening as he tried to pull his hand away.
“Logan, I don’t want your dad to pay—”
“It’s not about you.” Logan’s grip held firm, his voice steady but urgent. “It’s me taking the money. And I will pay him back.”
Adrian’s eyes flashed. “Logan, I am not some charity case—”
He tried again to free his hand, but Logan only held on tighter.
“Ad?” Logan’s voice softened, cutting through Adrian’s frustration.
Adrian turned, exasperated. “What?”
Logan swallowed, his thumb tracing slow, absent-minded circles on Adrian’s wrist. “Let me take care of you.” His voice was quiet, pleading. Then, as if sealing a promise, he brought Adrian’s hand to his lips and kissed it.
Adrian’s breath hitched, his anger faltering.
“Logan, I don’t want to be the needy person who comes begging for money.” His voice cracked slightly, the words scraping at his throat. “I don’t even want those treatments.”
“Yes, you do.” Logan’s response was immediate and firm.
“You’re keeping me alive, remember?” His tone softened into a teasing whisper as he nestled his head against Adrian’s chest, inhaling deeply and savoring the delicate texture of the fabric brushing against his cheeks.
Against his face, he felt the firm strength of Adrian’s chest, a comforting presence he memorized with each breath.
He could hear Adrian’s strong heartbeat, each one an echo of life for which he was grateful.
He allowed himself to be enveloped by this sensation, letting it wash over him like a soothing balm, numbing the chaotic noises of the world outside.
Adrian’s resistance crumbled in an instant, his arms moving instinctively around Logan, fingers threading into his hair.
“You’re not begging for anything, Ad. You’re just coming with me.” Logan whispered against his shirt. “Or would you prefer I go alone?”
“No, of course not.” The answer came without hesitation.
“Then let me deal with my father.” Logan sighed, closing his eyes as he relished Adrian’s warmth.
There was a beat of silence before Adrian huffed, shaking his head. “Lo, if you don’t have money, why the hell did you book the most expensive suite and rent a Maserati?”
Logan smirked against Adrian’s chest. “It’s not that I don’t have money. I don’t have enough money. Plus, I told you, the suite was the only one available. And I’ve always dreamed about driving a Maserati.”
Adrian groaned but couldn’t hide the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.
The cab came to a gentle halt, the rhythmic patter of rain dancing against the windows creating a soothing backdrop between them.
“Don’t you dare,” he warned Adrian, who was reaching into his pocket. With a firm gesture, Logan commanded Adrian to exit while swiping his card and thanked the driver.
Adrian retrieved their bags from the trunk, carefully placing them onto the slick sidewalk.
As Logan joined him, he inhaled deeply, the crisp, cold air filling his lungs, and watched in fascination as his warm breath mingled with the Seattle night, a fleeting wisp against the dark, star-studded sky.
The apartment building rose like a glass-and-steel monolith against the night sky, towering above them, its windows glinting with the fractured light of the city.
Even at this late hour, Seattle was still breathing—cars slicing through the rain-slicked streets, headlights casting silver streaks on the pavement, pedestrians bundled against the cold, their hurried steps whispering against the sidewalk.
Beyond the buildings, patches of darkness hinted at parks, trees swaying in the wind, silhouetted against the electric hum of the skyline.
Adrian took it all in, the urban sea so different from the sun-drenched shores of home. He turned to Logan as the cab pulled away. “You live here?”
Logan nodded, bending to grab his suitcase. “Yeah. Close to work and the airport.” He smirked slightly.
Adrian hesitated, his fingers ghosting over Logan’s wrist before he caught his hand properly, stopping him just before he reached the large glass doors.
“Have you…” Adrian’s voice was careful, his fingers squeezing slightly, “lived here with her?”
Logan closed his eyes for a moment, setting the suitcase down again, his heart shrinking from the hurt in Adrian’s voice as he asked it.
Without a word, he stepped closer and wrapped Adrian into his arms, breathing him in.
“No.” He leaned in and kissed him, slow and certain.
“I moved here after we split up. Actually… I haven’t even been here since I bought the place. ”
Adrian pulled back just enough to search Logan’s face. “How so?”
Logan’s hands moved absently, tracing Adrian’s back over the thick coat that wrapped him.
“Everything happened so fast,” he murmured.
“Basically, the house Sandy and I lived in? My father bought it for us. And when I told her I was gay… she left. Walked out and never looked back. And I—” He stopped, taking a breath.
“I couldn’t stay there. The house felt haunted.
Not by her; by me. By all the things I tried to be, all the ways I tried to force myself to live a life that was never mine. ”
Adrian’s hold on him grew firmer.