CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The work wasn't terrible. It was actually pretty nice, at least for a day filled with interviews, a photo shoot, and more interviews.
Since Alex wasn't the star of the show, but a person giving an award, he had the chance to talk about something other than himself.
He gushed about Victor Shio, about how life-changing his work had been, not only to Alex, but also to thousands of people around the world.
And talking about the importance of art and of expressing oneself put Alex in a good mood, allowing a perfect distraction from worrying about Boo.
On his way home, he jotted down some lines he might use as lyrics—or maybe do something else with them, he wasn't sure.
He'd learned to capture inspiration as it came to him, noting phrases, and feelings, and quick moments.
Some of it never amounted to anything, but some did.
He'd written entire songs from a stray thought taken out of those stream of consciousness notes, so he tried to preserve them all.
Still, the moment the car stopped half a block away from Alex's temporary home, everything shifted. His only thought was Boo, now—he hadn't seen his son in hours and it was the longest stretch of time apart they'd had so far.
Ian let him inside with a nod and—if Alex interpreted correctly—a flash of relief, but then his mother was there with Boo in her arms, and everything else faded away.
"Hey, you." Alex quickly took off his jacket and washed his hands in the kitchen sink, his heart aching in the best of ways as Boo reached for him. "I'm hurrying up, I am, I promise."
And then he had him in his arms and inhaled the familiar scent as he cuddled his baby against his chest. Boo slumped, bumping his head against Alex's cheek, then pressed his face against Alex's neck and let out a wet sigh that was almost a whimper.
"Shh, you're okay, you're alright," Alex murmured as he rubbed Boo's back. "Your dad's home, and I'm not going anywhere for the rest of the day and the whole night. You're going to be sick of me by then."
"That won't happen until he's about fourteen. Twelve, maybe, if you're really awful."
Alex glared at his mother. "Not funny."
"At least you have well over a decade left to go," she said with a shake of her head. "My child doesn't even greet me anymore, these days."
Snorting, Alex leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. "Hi, how are you? How was your day?"
"It was fine. We had fun at the park, didn't we?" She touched Boo's foot with a smile. "But you know all about it, since both Ian and I sent our reports dutifully every hour."
Ian was still standing by the door, watching them, and Alex pretended his heart didn't skip a beat at the sight of him.
"I may be a helicopter parent," he announced instead. "I may have to be stopped at some point in the future, but for now, don't even try."
His mom put her hands up. "I won't. I would pity anyone who would try to stand between the two of you."
"Good." Alex inhaled Boo's scent again. "It's good to be home."
"You must be hungry, huh?" His mom took him by his arm and led him towards the table. "They never give you anything substantial to eat at those things, it's ridiculous. Thankfully, Ian made dinner."
Suddenly, Alex's eyes burned and his throat closed up, so he lowered his gaze quickly.
It was stupid to get emotional over a little thing, but…
How perfect would his life be if it looked like that?
Coming back home after work, catching inspiration when it struck but then letting himself fall into the safety of this, right there—Boo's easy love and Ian's care.
His mom had been amazing and continued to be so, but it was different with Ian.
It also wasn't real. Ian was working, and while obviously cooking fell outside of his duties, it didn't mean anything in the grand scheme of things.
It definitely didn't mean what Alex wanted it to mean.
And yet, throughout dinner and right after, he watched Ian as subtly as he could whenever Boo wasn't demanding his full attention, and it was way too easy to imagine him always being there.
Which he couldn't be. Ian had his work and his life here, and maybe he was even dating somebody. Somebody who had never run away from him.
"Are you originally from DC or did you move here?" his mom asked, and Ian ducked his head.
"I'm from Massachusetts, although I haven't lived there since I finished my undergrad. I moved to DC right after I left the Marine Corps."
"And you're planning on staying indefinitely?"
Ian paused, then shook his head. "I'm currently considering a transfer to New York, actually."
Alex's eyes widened at that, his breath catching.
Thankfully, Ian hadn't noticed since he was still staring at his plate, but Alex's mom definitely had, if the look she sent him was any indication.
"I had no idea your company has branches in other cities," she said, turning back to Ian.
"We have a satellite office in New York, since we sometimes take on assignments that split our time between the two cities and having a support structure there has been convenient.
Now, my boss wants to grow our presence there.
It would let us serve our existing clientèle while also expanding it.
There's no shortage of high-profile people who could use our services over there, after all. "
"And not many of them would be involved in politics." She shrugged when Ian raised his eyebrows at that. "Alex once told me you mostly work with politicians."
Staring at Boo, who was mostly asleep by that point, Alex hoped to hide his reddened face, even though there was nothing to be ashamed of, really. He hadn't talked a lot about Ian, and it wasn't even anything personal.
"We do, that's true. While there's some variety here as well, I expect New York to be much more diversified from that perspective, even though once the word gets around, people from the same field tend to follow."
"Hopefully not too many finance bros, otherwise you might as well stick with the politicians."
"Mom," Alex protested, prompting Boo to startle in his arms and make a face that didn't bode well.
"Okay, I think I'll take him upstairs and put him down for the night a little early.
Could you stick around?" Alex turned to Ian.
"This shouldn't take long, since he's already mostly out, and I'd like to talk to you about something. "
There was nothing Alex honestly liked about the conversation they needed to have, but he knew better than to push it off for any longer. Ian had to know about Em and Connor, period.
"Sure, I'll be here."
With a nod, and a kiss to his mother's cheek, Alex headed upstairs with Boo, trying—and failing—not to look back at where she returned to her conversation with Ian, leaning forward with a smile.
Of course.
"We're all helpless, are we?" Alex told Boo once safely behind the bedroom door.
"Don't think I haven't seen you cozying up to Ian when I left you two together in the morning.
That's way too dangerous for my heart." He rocked his son gently as he put him down on the changing table.
"I can't have you snuggling with him like he's the safest place you've ever found aside from your dad, okay?
My heart can't grow any more. It would break my ribs and there'd be blood, and the whole thing would be totally gross, trust me.
More so than your diapers, even, which is truly impressive. "
It wasn't the first time Alex babbled nonsense at Boo—unfortunately, it wasn't even the first time he babbled nonsense about Ian—but it still felt different now when he'd seen the two of them interact.
"You have good taste, at least. Which is fortunate, and I'm glad you inherited it from me, not the other side of your gene pool. Like, our tastes are not even in the same league. They don't even play the same sport."
Boo kicked his feet with a laugh.
"Yes, I'm glad you agree," Alex told him as he quickly grabbed a new diaper and pajamas. "Your grandma was a surprise, though, wasn't she? She's not so easily swayed, and yet, look at her!"
Then again, he didn't know how anyone could resist Ian's charms.
He certainly couldn't.
* * *
No matter how taken his mother was with Ian, she was still already down for the night by the time Alex had returned downstairs with the baby monitor in hand and the empty bottles to wash.
The kitchen was clean and Ian was working on something at the table, if the large notepad in front of him was any indication.
Was it stupid that Alex felt fondness at the sight of Ian's handwriting?
Yes. Yes, of course it was, but he couldn't help it.
He rarely saw anyone write by hand these days, now that he wasn't hanging out with musicians on a daily basis—and even so, several people he knew had switched to digital notes even for longer brainstorming sessions.
Ian's handwriting was crisp and slightly larger than the usual, so even from a quick glance Alex could catch a few words like "facility" and "training", but he didn't want to pry, so he headed straight to the sink.
"Everything okay?" Ian asked from his seat, and Alex nodded.
"He's fine, I just jinxed us when I said it shouldn't take long. Boo woke up fully the moment we got to the room, and it's sometimes hard for him to fall back asleep. He was resisting whenever I tried to put him down, but that could also be because I was gone most of the day."
"Oh, so it's like saying things are quiet at work, then. The q-word is banned on the job among many people I know, especially military and the first responders."
Alex smiled as he quickly rinsed the last bottle. "I heard about that from a firefighter I know. He'd gotten additional chores for letting that slip on one of his first shifts. His station was called five minutes later to a fire that took them half the night to put out."
"I'm not a superstitious person, but I heard enough stories like that to avoid risking it whenever I'm on the job."
Alex turned towards Ian and leaned against the counter at his back. "What's the most ridiculous one you've heard?"
"There was one that involved a very small dog getting out of the house right before the family went to bed and my friends being dragged into searching for the little asshole all over the neighborhood.
" Ian snorted and shook his head. "One neighbor even called the police because he was suspicious about someone lurking around. "
Chuckling, Alex stepped closer and sat down on the other side of the table. "I assume they found him?"
"He crawled out from underneath the house two hours later, filthy but very proud of himself." Ian put the notepad away and rested his arms against the table. "We wouldn't let them live it down for months. Honestly, I'm half-tempted to text them a photo of that dog right now as a reminder."
"There's no end date for ribbing, is there?"
And, oh, Alex missed Ian grinning like that.
"Nope. Some things deserve to be remembered forever. And mutually assured destruction is the foundation of many a friendship."
It was a joke—a funny one, even, when somebody had friends they could truly count on—and yet Alex couldn't help but tense.
He cleared his throat. "I guess that works as an unintentional segue into something I wanted to talk to you about."
Ian had already lost his smile, but now he leaned forward, all business once again.
"Did something happen today? Has someone threatened you?"
"No, nothing like that." Alex glanced back towards the stairs. "I hope it's nothing, but I do know better than to assume, and you should know, either way. Can we move to the couch, though?"
With a nod, Ian stood up and followed Alex to the living room area where they took seats on the opposite sides of the couch, facing each other.
"I haven't told you the name of Boo's biological mother," Alex started in a low voice, gaze drifting back and forth between Ian and the couch cushion under his hand.
"Which was on purpose, since I want to keep this information completely private, or at least, as private as possible.
That's in the contract I signed with her—neither of us can't say much of anything about this, although I get some leeway there as a legal parent, which is why we're having this conversation. "
"Okay."
Alex looked up. While he'd been expecting another promise of keeping things confidential, he didn't really need one, did he?
Not only did they have a contract between them as well, but more importantly, Ian had already said and done everything that was needed in that regard, and he'd earned Alex's trust ten-fold in the past.
There was no other way forward but through.