Chapter 13 #2
“Maybe we should just invest in one,” Tarius said as he swirled the red wine in his glass. “We might need it in the future.” He’d basically made up his mind, but he also wanted Branson’s opinion. It was a big piece of furniture, after all.
Branson settled on the other end of the couch with his own glass of wine, the last of the bottle they’d opened last night, and he put his feet up on the cushion between them.
Tarius had already stretched out his own legs, and his toes brushed Branson’s hip.
He loved sitting like this, sharing the length of the couch, angled to face each other, and they’d been doing it more often in the evenings, while they talked about their days.
“You’re right,” Branson said, after taking a sip of his wine.
“Ooh, say it again.”
“Dork. Don’t get used to me saying that, just because you agreed to marry me.”
Tarius nudged Branson’s hip with his toes. “Fine, but you agree? We should go ahead and replace your couch with a sofa bed?”
“Yes, I agree. It’s not like I’m emotionally attached to this one. We’ll need a sofa bed until we can move into the larger apartment. It’ll be more comfortable than an air mattress, and a lot more practical for future guests.”
“Okay, you’ve sold me on the sofa bed.” Branson pinched his big toe.
Tarius yelped and drew his feet back. He did not need to spill his wine because Branson decided to start tickling him. “Watch it, Cross.”
“Or what?”
“I work with lawyers, I’ll think of something.”
“So, the new couch. Want to meet at Dalton’s tomorrow during lunch and do some shopping? See what they have in stock that can be delivered fast?”
“Yeah, that works. Maybe we can pick something neutral that will go with however we decide to decorate the new apartment.”
Branson picked at the faded green cushion beneath him. “What? You don’t like my eclectic style?”
“Even eclectic is an actual style. This is just a jumble of things you probably accepted second-hand or found at thrift shops.”
“So?”
“No so, it’s just very you. And even though you never really hung out at my old apartment, or saw my room at Khory’s place, I am…more precise in my decorating. Things have their place, and clutter makes me anxious.”
Branson blinked several times, like he’d never seen Tarius before, but his smile remained mild. “You like things to match and make sense.”
“And to go in their proper place. I know you’ve noticed how I hang up my suits when I come home, and the way I place my shoes by the bedroom door, toes to the wall, side by side.”
“Is this some sort of OCD I didn’t know you had?”
“No, it’s nothing like that.” Tarius stared at the ruby liquid in his glass, then put it down on the coffee table.
He bent his knees and scooted closer to Branson.
“It’s a coping mechanism I came up with during my first year at university.
It was so different than secondary school, so many more people, strange faces, disorder, chaos, and it reminded me too much of something that I was working to overcome.
” Tarius’s heart started pounding when he realized which can of ancient history he’d just opened.
A can from more than half a lifetime ago.
Branson put his own wine glass down and placed his feet on the floor. Slid over so he was practically sitting on Tarius’s feet. He rested his left hand on Tarius’s knee but didn’t squeeze, aware it would tickle. “Did something happen in school?”
“Not technically in school. And please, don’t think this is something I was intentionally keeping from you.
I don’t really think about it anymore, because I was eighteen.
Still a kid in a lot of ways, and I was still grieving Omegin.
It was pre-Liam, so Dad was a righteous bastard most days.
I hadn’t moved out of the house to live with Aven yet, but I was hanging out with him a lot. On campus.”
A protective kind of anger flashed in Branson’s eyes. “What happened?”
Tarius took Branson’s hand off his knee and squeezed it. “I went with Aven to an on-campus party where I didn’t know anyone. I drank, and at some point, someone slipped me a roofie.”
“Fuck.” That anger glowed brighter, and his grip on Tarius’s hand intensified.
“I don’t remember any of this, but Aven noticed I was missing.
He found me passed out in a bed upstairs.
” Old hurt and phantom touches ghosted through his mind, and Tarius coughed once to dislodge a strange thickness in his throat.
He hadn’t said this out loud to anyone in over a decade.
“My jeans were down, and an alpha student was next to me with a condom in his hand. Aven rushed him, and he was nearly expelled for beating the crap out of the alphahole.”
“Goddess, Tar.”
“It didn’t go as far as it could have, and I am forever grateful that my big brother was there that night. That I had someone older and wiser looking out for me while I navigated life without a parent’s guidance. Like you’ll be here for Jeuel.”
Branson blinked hard, leaving his lashes shimmering with unshed tears. “I’m glad you had Aven with you that night. So fucking glad.”
“Me too. And I did not mean to bring down the mood with that awful story, but keeping things orderly, making sure everything has a place, no chaos? It helped me cope. It’s probably why I love being a paralegal so much.
Research is orderly to me. I can streamline it, organize it, make the most random facts make sense. ”
“I get that. Thank you for sharing your truth with me.”
“You’re welcome. You know, for a lot of years afterward, I thought what nearly happened at that party was why I had no interest in dating, or in having sex.
I thought that what I didn’t even remember had somehow irreparably broken me.
But I was wrong. I am who I am, and I always would have been asexual, whether I went to that party or not. ”
Branson nodded slowly, the anger in his eyes giving way to understanding. “We are who we are, and there’s nothing wrong with either of us.”
“Exactly.” Tarius leaned in, and Branson met him halfway for a kiss. Branson tasted like wine and kindness and love, so he kissed his husband again, savoring those things.
“I guess it’s a good thing I’m not a naturally messy person,” Branson said once they parted. “I’m pretty adaptable in most situations, and I find the way you carefully line up your shoes to be extremely charming.”
“Very good things, all of them.”
Branson’s mobile rang, and he scrambled to pull it out of his pants pocket. “It’s Jeuel.”
“Talk to him.” Tarius stood, stretching as he unfolded his limbs, and then took his glass into the bedroom to give them privacy.
He stood by the room’s only window and stared out at the boring view of the building across the street.
The new apartment’s views weren’t much better, and that was okay.
These buildings had been built with cheap rent in mind, not aesthetics.
With their combined salaries—and with all the credit Tarius had banked over the years by living well below his means—they probably could have bought a house.
But that seemed like too much, too soon, especially when they’d rushed into marriage for purely legal reasons.
Yes, love was involved, and Tarius very much enjoyed exploring his new dynamic with Branson, but a house was… more permanent.
A thirty-year mortgage said they were in this for the long haul.
Not that Tarius was even considering divorce when the ink was only a day old on his marriage certificate. They could talk about a house when Branson’s thoughts weren’t so crowded with Jeuel’s impending arrival and introduction into their lives.
Tarius drank his wine and stared at the headlights of cars passing up and down the street below.
A few folks bobbed around on the sidewalk, probably heading to nearby bars to unwind after a long day at work.
The floor creaked near the bedroom door and Tarius turned, surprised the phone call was already over.
“How’s Jeuel doing?” Tarius asked.
“He’s nervous about the trip, and a little scared about moving someplace he’s never been before. I think I reassured him that we’ll both be here to help him acclimate, and that he’s about to inherit more family than he knows what to do with.”
“That is a solid fact.” He held up his right arm, and Branson came to him, tucking himself up against Tarius’s side. “How about Trei?”
“I didn’t speak with him directly, but Jeuel says he’s okay. He’s feeling a little under the weather, but is ready to get out of Sonora and start over here.”
“Mr. Paxton has Trei’s travel papers organized?”
“Yep.”
Because Trei Alder was a widowed omega over the age of majority, he wasn’t subject to the same custody rules as Jeuel.
But he still needed legal court documents allowing him to leave the province and settle elsewhere, and those papers left him bound to the rules for omegas in his new home province.
Since Sansbury had less restrictive rules, Trei would eventually be able to choose where he wanted to live, whether it was with Branson, Tarius, and Jeuel, or elsewhere.
By moving to Sansbury, Trei had more options for his future, just like Jeuel.
“We’ll probably need to pick up some storage options tomorrow, too,” Tarius said.
“Not just the sleeper sofa. I can’t imagine they will be comfortable living out of their suitcases for two weeks.
We can probably borrow the dresser I used at Dad’s house, maybe shove it into that corner.
” He pointed to an empty spot near the closet.
“Good idea. And maybe this weekend, we can all go out and do some furniture shopping for the new apartment? Not just the bedrooms, but apparently, my new husband likes furniture and accessories to match.”
Tarius chuckled. “Sounds like a plan. There’s also one more thing we need to decide on before our guests arrive.”
“Oh?”
“Sleeping arrangements for the next two weeks.”
Branson frowned. “Sleeping arrangements?”
“Yes. Who’s getting the sleeper sofa, and who’s getting the bedroom?”
“Oh. Huh.” He briefly chewed on his bottom lip, an adorable thing Branson did when thinking hard about a confusing problem. “Can we decide after we see how comfortable the sleeper sofa is?”
Tarius pinched his hip. “Dork.”
Branson yelped and darted away. “Don’t dork me!”
Laughing at the silliness that helped break a serious moment, Tarius chased after his husband, intent on tickling him as much as possible once he was caught.