Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
It took a few days of going back and forth with Reno before Luka had a ticket, an Airbnb, and a week off from work.
He’d had to promise his boss he’d work his regular hours while he was in London after the week off.
Luka had never been so thankful to have a remote job before.
He’d still gotten his return ticket for two weeks after his departure, because if things went wrong with Reno, Luka would want out of there fast.
And, if things went well, it would serve as more fuel for their relationship. Luka figured having two blissful weeks together, then separating again, would drive them both insane with longing and yearning, and Luka was just sick enough in the head to love the idea of Reno pining after him.
August had reassured Luka that they would take care of Michael just fine on their own and urged him to go.
Luka had a sneaking suspicion that they just wanted the house to themself for a few weeks so Iris could stay over with unlimited privacy, but he couldn’t blame them for it.
August helped him pack, checked the expected weather in London for him, and helped him search for places to visit for fun whenever Reno was too busy to entertain him.
He‘d never been to London before, and had no shame admitting to wanting to see all the tourist-type things while he was there. He would ask Reno if he wanted to join, but Luka didn’t expect someone who lived there to want to do those kinds of things with him.
By the time Luka arrived, Reno would only have a week and a half off of work left, and he admitted to Luka that even in his time off, he had a lot of things to do for the band and the label.
Luka had learned that at-home Reno was an entirely different type of busy from tour-Reno.
While Reno could get up whenever he pleased, the freedoms stopped there.
He was on a strict diet and work-out routine, and segmented his days between practicing guitar and violin—Luka was trying very hard to be normal about Reno playing violin and failing—dance lessons, daily video calls with Sebastian to work on writing the new album, and once a week he had a rotation of photographers and fashion designers he worked with for the modeling side of his career.
On top of all of that, he kept up with filming and editing videos for his vlog, helping around his neighborhood, walking dogs and tending to gardens, and still made time to see his friends and call his family.
Luka was tired just thinking about it, and was extremely grateful he wasn’t expected to partake in any of it.
He would meet Reno’s friends; the list of names Reno had thrown at him over the last few days was extensive, and, internally, Luka braced himself for the coming weeks of social obligations.
But the warmth in his chest every time he thought about being important enough to Reno that he wanted to introduce Luka to his friends outweighed the risk of post-trip exhaustion.
“What about the Tate Museum?” August showed Luka the webpage, holding their phone up for him to see. Luka looked away from the mirror and paused brushing dye into his hair.
“Modern?” Luka hummed, then went back to pulling pink color through the strands. “Maybe, or I could go to the British Museum and get mad about all the stolen artifacts.”
“Don’t.” August turned their phone back to scroll through the webpage. “You’re already insufferable without having that experience. Oh, you could go to Stonehenge.”
“Help me with my tongue ring.” Luka tied his hair up so the color could set, then snapped his gloves off to throw in the trash. “New ones in my bag. Front, small pocket.”
August made a displeased noise, then left in search of the jewelry.
Luka stared at himself in the mirror. The stained, oversized shirt he always wore to color his hair.
His tired, anxious expression. The chronic bags under his eyes.
He looked down at his hands instead, knowing the person he saw in the mirror was a worse, warped version of himself.
His hands were always safe, though; they were strong and capable and didn’t let him down.
“This it?” August came back holding the little plastic bag with the new black opal top for his tongue ring. When Luka nodded, August dumped it on the counter and squirted rubbing alcohol over it. “I fuckin hate changing mouth piercings.”
“Me too.” Luka shook his head. “But, if you wanna quit the art store and learn to pierce, get used to it.”
“Maybe I can get away with only doing nose piercings.” They put on gloves and tapped Luka’s chin, urging him to stick out his tongue.
“You seem on edge today. Usually, all this self-care stuff is soothing for you.” August dropped the silver ball to the side, quickly threaded the opal on in its place, then released their grip on Luka’s tongue.
“I’m nervous.” Luka took a moment to rub the piercing against the roof of his mouth and found it comfortable. “Kinda sick-feeling about everything.”
“I thought you were excited?”
“Yes, but nerves and excitement are like, right next to each other on the emotion chart. The two get crossed for me a lot.”
August threw their gloves in the trash and sat on the toilet lid, propping an elbow up on the back of it.
Luka turned away from the mirror and hopped up onto the bathroom counter to sit.
He looked at the painting on the wall, a floral still life August had painted in school that they hated and Luka loved.
August broke the silence. “You leave tomorrow.”
“Yup.”
“Are you coming back?”
Luka looked down at them, confused. “Why wouldn’t I come home?”
August scratched their cheek, avoiding Luka’s eyes. “Look, how long have I known you?”
“I don’t know, seven, eight years?”
“I’ve never seen you act like this,” August said.
“In all these years, you’ve always been pretty composed overall.
I’m used to your emotional state being kinda flat.
To be honest, you smile a lot more now, but I’m also watching you work yourself up so bad you get sick to your stomach. Are you going to be okay?”
“I think so.”
“Then, I just got this feeling that if you do end up being okay, being happy, you’re not coming back.”
“Would that be so terrible?” Luka asked, frowning.
August took their time before responding. “No, I guess not. You still need to pay rent until I get a new roommate. Please don’t leave me stranded. The art store pays me pennies and if I do find someone to teach me how to pierce professionally, I won’t make shit during the apprenticeship.”
“I’d never do that to you. Besides, I’m pretty sure if I did end up moving to London, I would not be paying rent.” Luka felt his face warm at the admission.
“That's so surreal," August said. “I can’t believe my roommate landed a celeb and sugar daddy mixed into one.”
“He is not my sugar daddy,” Luka insisted, a chill rolling down his spine at the thought. “I’m not okay with just taking Reno’s money. I’m still going to be working while I’m out there.”
“Babes, you just said he’d pay your rent.”
Luka felt his cheeks grow even warmer. “No, I didn’t. I, uh.”
“Spit it out, white boy.”
“Well, he owns his flat. I’d probably just… stay there.”
“When’s the wedding?” August cackled. “You two are worse than U-Haul lesbians. At this point, I’ll be shocked if you come back here.”
Luka thought back to what Reno had said before, master plan to get you to move in— “You might be right. But I’m still not just letting him pay for my life right off the bat.
He’d have to like, propose, or something before I’d let him take control of my life.
I need to have some kind of independence in case things go south. ”
“Propose?” August latched onto the word. “Propose? Christ, don’t tell me you are already thinking about those things with this man.”
Luka shrugged. “Honestly, he’s the one who talks about it. Not me.”
August stared in complete disbelief and Luka had to huff a laugh at their expression.
“Trust, I made that exact same face when he started talking about me moving there and becoming his husband.”
August’s lips went pinched. “You’re into that, aren’t you?”
Luka looked at the ceiling. “I think so. It’s stupid fast, terrifying, and probably fake.
But I really do enjoy feeling like someone like Reno could actually want that from me.
He’s been so reassuring these last few days since he got home from tour.
I’d be much more of a mess right now if he hadn’t been. ”
“I hate to say it because you’re both fucking insane, but I think he might be good for you. I’m so sick of you talking about yourself like that. If he follows through and actually takes care of you the way he’s promising, maybe you’ll finally get it into your head that you’re worth something.”
“I know I’m worth a lot," Luka defended himself. “Just, objectively, not worth as much as Reno. He literally has monetary value on his existence—I’m just a guy with gender dysphoria and some art skills that don’t get me anywhere important.
It’s not illogical to believe that my value is less than his. ”
August groaned in frustration. “Capitalist brain rot! Your value isn’t about monetary worth.
I’m poking holes in your logic, dude. Worth in a human has nothing to do with what you produce or how much money you can make with the things you produce; it has to do with how you treat people, and I watch you give yourself to everyone you love over and over and never ask for anything back.
You could never pick up a brush again, and I’d still find you valuable. ”
Luka felt his throat go a little tight and had to take a deep breath.
“Would you still like Reno if he never played music again?”
Luka had to sit for a moment and think. “It’s disturbing to think of him not playing or writing anymore, it’s like, wired into his soul. I’m not sure you could separate it from him.”