Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Luka
I havent coughed all day :)
Fever??
Gone!
??(?u?? )??
I am going stir crazy. I've been stuck in bed for days
Be home in two hours, I have a few stops after work but I'll make it worth the wait
(? ????)
np I'm just painting, enjoying being able to sit upright again
Reno wished he could be there already to watch Luka paint.
Luka was a bit private about it, preferring to work the same hours Reno did and to have all his supplies neatly packed away by the time Reno got home.
Now and then, though, Reno would find a smudge of dry watercolor on the countertop or one of Luka's favorite pencils for sketching left on the couch.
Eraser dust on the table. Balled up paper in the bin that he was sorely tempted to rescue.
And even though he wiped the paint off as he cleaned, he felt an indescribable fondness that Luka had left those small traces of his creation behind.
He had not talked to Luka about his meltdown the other day.
Part of him didn’t want to break the peace they’d built over the last few days.
Even with Luka sick with a fever, they had found a new footing with each other.
It felt quiet, a little timid, and a little excited.
It was a nervous and hopeful start to Luka settling into Reno’s flat, tucking his belongings into the dresser and his toothbrush into the holder by Reno’s sink after Reno had gone to the rental and packed up everything before the checkout date.
Hope trembled in Reno, hope that maybe Luka was going to stay. He hadn't asked for another ticket home.
He was both relieved and nervous that Luka didn’t have a fever anymore; he really didn’t want to bother him with everything while he was so sick.
He hadn’t asked for Luka’s plans, for his answers.
And he hadn’t confessed to the fist of anxiety squeezing around his heart whenever he thought of Joy’s name in Luka’s phone.
He had just watched as Luka moved through Reno’s flat like he belonged there.
He trusted Arnaud to handle it; he did. But he didn’t know where the line was.
How could he come across to Luka not as a paranoid or jealous lover, but as a person with a legitimate reason to be scared?
He didn’t know how to begin to explain the nightmare he’d been through, and how, even now, it rattled him to his core.
It had been almost eleven years since he left Joy, and she could still make him feel so afraid.
Joy’s harassment campaign against Reno after he left her had been brutal and lasted over a year while Reno and Sterling Records fought to get protections in place.
Between her reluctance to show up in court and Voltage’s first international tour, every step of the process had been torturously prolonged.
He’d been grateful that Voltage had been small enough at the time that if they’d chosen to drop him, the band would have survived.
Instead, his bandmates had chosen to believe that Reno wouldn’t do the things Joy had accused him of, and at the final court hearing, she confessed to making up everything to ruin his reputation.
She pleaded guilty to harassment, defamation of character, and stalking, and was sentenced to two months in jail and a year of community service. Reno gained a restraining order and a stalking protection order against her. Kandi and the label's legal team ensured that it never expired.
It still clung to him, all those posts online saying he’d been abusive, that he was a narcissist who only dated her for her connections, that he’d left her because he’d grown more popular than her and didn’t need her anymore.
Reno had loved her.
He had loved her so deeply that he couldn’t tell himself from her most of the time, and when he left, it felt like he’d left himself behind too.
He’d never even raised his voice at her, and the accusation of physical and mental harm he had caused still made him sick to think about.
If Joy hadn’t folded like she had and admitted to spinning false narratives, the fingers pointed at him would have ended both his career and the person he knew himself to be.
How was he supposed to explain that?
A loud part of him really wanted to wait until Arnaud found out if Joy was actually Joy or not before he said anything.
If he had confirmation it was her, then maybe he’d have the courage to share the shameful side of himself that still wondered if he really had hurt her, somehow, and didn’t know it, if maybe he’d done the things she’d accused him of and no one told him he was doing them.
If it really was her, maybe he could confess to being afraid, all the time, of being that person, and that his confidence that he could treat Luka with love and care partially stemmed from that fear.
He knew if he was afraid of treating someone poorly, then he wouldn’t. He would make mistakes, but he’d never treat Luka in a way that would intentionally harm him, because even the thought that he might have done something like that once to someone paralyzed him.
He got on the bus heading further downtown, a plan in motion.
If it wasn’t Joy, and it was a different person with the same name, Reno could just let it all go again.
Keep focusing on moving forward, keep healing, keep leaning on his friends when the thoughts got too loud.
And, above all, keep trying with everything he had to treat Luka with as much honest love as he could, and hope and pray nothing like what happened ever did again.
He tucked his questioning, his spiraling away for later. He had to focus on one thing at a time, and the most important thing right now was preparing himself to finally ask Luka to stay for real, and actually demand an answer.
Luka had asked for two weeks, and Reno had given him that, plus a few days more while he waited for Luka to feel better. Now, he didn’t have to be patient anymore, and finally, he would get to ask Luka to be his boyfriend.
He had a good feeling Luka would say yes, but his nerves still ate at him as he walked into the store and told the clerk his order number. He showed them the invoice on his phone and then leaned against the glass counter while the clerk went into the back.
He hoped Luka would say yes.
He hoped for it with all his heart.
He wanted the chance to prove to Luka that Reno could be the right person for him. That he’d be treated well, taken care of, and protected from harm and hurt. That Reno could make good on all his promises to show Luka he was worth giving the world to.
He imagined them together, decades from now, and Luka would be happy and healthy, without a doubt of his value or place in the world.
And Reno would be happy too, knowing he could share all of himself with someone again, knowing he could trust Luka to hold his heart gently and flourish beside him.
They’d probably sit on a beach somewhere in the sunshine, and Reno would make fun of the way Luka burned so easily, and they would kiss in the waves and the sand until it grew too dark to see where one of them ended and the other began.
Reno almost didn’t hear the clerk come back; he was lost in thought, dreaming about how beautiful Luka would be sitting by the sea, his long hair wet and wavy where it trailed down his back between bony shoulder blades, and his eyes so bright they matched the water.
The clerk handed him the package, and Reno had to clear his throat to thank them before carefully opening it to inspect its contents. Everything looked perfect, so he tucked it back into the bag, thanked the clerk again, then went directly home.
Luka was waiting for him.
He wanted Luka to wait for him at home for the rest of his life.
He wanted Luka by his side, also—exploring the world, eating good food, and jumping into the sea—and he finally got to ask him if he would.
Luka kissed him like he knew every inch of him.
Reno wound his hands through Luka’s soft, fine hair and fell into the feeling of it. Luka put a hand between them and joined them together with a soft sigh, his tongue pliant where it pressed against Reno’s, and it felt like coming home to breathe in Luka’s air.
Nothing else mattered when Reno found himself cradled by Luka’s sure hands. The past, the worry, the pressure of always having to impress, dropped away whenever Luka ran his nails down Reno’s back and ground their hips together.
Luka looked so bright against the late afternoon light spilling into the living room through hazy white curtains.
Reno took in the way it made his lashes shine like gold, how it illuminated his fading hair like a halo, and Reno thought of the paintings Luka had shown him that he loved so much.
Luka would fit right into them, swathed in layers of silk and delicately rendered with so much adoration that people would marvel at his beauty for hundreds of years.
Reno pressed his lips against the front of Luka’s throat and felt him moan, low and deep in his chest, and Reno tried not to think of biting into him and swallowing until Luka could stay in him forever.
“Hikaru," Luka breathed out, and his name was so sweet on Luka’s tongue that Reno gasped. He was falling, he was falling so deep into Luka’s embrace, into his body, into his affection, he felt like he’d burst from it.
“Come in me. I want it.”
He was sure he’d never disobey Luka.
He choked from it, his forehead pressed against Luka’s sharp collarbone. Luka moaned with him, and the pitch was so perfect Reno could hear it resonate in his head long after Luka went silent.
“Missed you," Luka said, his hands trailing up Reno’s back through a layer of sweat, leaving chills behind. “Being sick is the worst.”
Luka’s voice was still a little hoarse from coughing, but his eyes were bright and clear, and his cheeks were alive and flushed with the perfect shade of peony pink.
Reno kissed both of his cheeks, relieved to find them warm instead of burning, and said, “I do love taking care of you, though.”