Chapter 22
Nathan
Nathan turns the shower on and steps under the spray, barely feeling the chill. A moment or two later and his hair is sodden, warming water sluicing away the remnants of the day.
Will was clingy in the aftermath. He wouldn’t let go of Nathan’s hand, the shock of skin against skin pushed into the background as they spoke to an endless procession of paramedics and police officers.
Emily had hugged them both, as had Kevin, shared trauma creating and deepening the bonds between them.
Sameer and Amy had even begrudgingly told him he’d done well.
Eventually they had clambered back into Nathan’s car, feeling like days had passed them by. Will turned to him, a gathering storm in his eyes, and asked him to stay the night.
Of course he’d agreed. Nathan knows enough about shock to anticipate that Will needs comfort and gentleness tonight, so here he is, taking a quick shower and packing a bag.
As soon as he’s clean and packed, he jumps in the car.
His phone rings twice on the way, and again as he reverses into a parking space.
“I’m a little busy right now, Dad.”
“Nathan, I’m so glad you answered… I heard about today.”
The voice at the other end of the line is strung thin with tension. Old pathways fire, derision eager at the tip of Nathan’s tongue, but the tremor he can hear vibrating in his voice…
“Yeah, figured you’d have heard. Sameer and Amy did really well.”
“I know. They needed a third, a two man team isn’t enough at the moment. I’m already implementing the changes.” A pause, thick and heavy. “And… and you? Are you alright? How’s Will?”
Shock ripples through Nathan’s body. “You’re asking about Will?”
“Both of you. I heard about what you did—so creative, you’ve always been good under pressure. But I imagine it’s new for Will, isn’t it, having his own part to play? I heard you’ve been seeing each other again, and I’m… I’m glad, son, so I…”
The words trail off into nothingness, silence stretching awkwardly between them.
“Will’s okay. I’m at his place now, actually. Can’t talk for long.”
A sigh, tinged with relief. “Alright. Look, I… I’m sorry.
For separating you when you were kids. I just…
I knew what the worst case outcome was. For years, I suspected the Saveas were hiding him, and if there was any chance you’d…
I thought you’d be better off if you didn’t consummate the bond.
It was so new, I thought it would… I don’t know. ”
Nathan’s jaw drops, shock lancing through him like a thunderbolt. “You knew about Will’s Gift? How?”
“I didn’t know, I suspected. I was trying to protect you.”
Moments pass, Nathan’s head buzzing with the implications of this new information, the past glimmering in new light, the future thrown off its axis.
“Well, you didn’t.” Nathan finds himself sighing, heavily enough he feels it deep in his belly, tugging on years of rage and regret. “You took away the other half of me. I can’t even tell you how it felt.”
“I know that feeling better than you think, Nathan. There’s nothing worse than losing your bondmate. Nothing.”
A chill whips through him, goosebumps erupting on his skin.
It’s like getting caught in a sudden downpour, the cold shock of realisation soaking him through to his bones.
In all the years of resentment, in all the years of pain, it never occurred to Nathan that his father might have his own scars to bear.
Shame creeps over his skin, quickly pushed back by numbness, the emotional rollercoaster finally reaching the trough of its last dizzying plunge.
“Dad, I’ve got to go.” He keeps his voice gentle, aware of all the conversation that lies ahead of them, all the things he has yet to understand. “I need to be with Will.”
“Of course. Will you come visit, sometime? Both of you? I’d like to explain. And… to apologise. Properly. I… I know I did the wrong thing, son. I made things worse. I… I want to do better.”
“I’ll call you.” A tiny spark of something, too fragile to be acceptance, too nascent to be hope. “Maybe we’ll visit. I’ll call you.”
He hangs up. Takes a minute, breathing slow and deep, consciously relaxing sets of muscles from scalp to toes until he feels centred enough to go on.
Will looks tired when he opens the door, clad in soft black sweats with his hair tied back in a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck. He tugs Nathan in for a hug before he’s even dropped his backpack, his nose buried in his hair as he holds him close. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Me too.” Will releases him and takes his hand, leading the way inside. A rich, savoury aroma intensifies as they approach the kitchen, Nathan’s stomach clenching emptily. “You’re cooking?”
“Yeah. Chicken chasseur, nothing too complicated. You hungry?” Will glances over, his eyes warm as he stirs the contents of a large pot.
“Yeah. Those sandwiches feel like they were a lifetime ago.”
“They do, don’t they? God, today was… something else.”
“It was.” Nathan watches as Will stirs and stirs the pot, wondering if chicken chasseur demands this much attention, wondering when to share the conversation he just had. “It really was. How’re you feeling?”
“Tired. Hungry. And… restless, maybe? I don’t know.”
Nathan steps in and wraps an arm around Will’s waist, hoping the half-hug provides a little comfort. “That’ll be the shock. Did you get some sugar in you like I said?”
“Yeah.” Will leans into him, still stirring slowly. “Been drinking tea since you dropped me off. Probably too late for it, but… whatever.”
“Your body needs what it needs. Don’t worry about it.”
It feels so good to stand here with him, every point of contact radiating warmth between them. It calms him, steadies him; gives him the strength he needs to press on.
Will stops stirring abruptly, shifting until the half-hug turns into a full one, his voice soft in Nathan’s ear. “Nate, I… I know we need to talk. I feel like I’ve gone from nothing to everything with you, but I…”
“There’s no rush.” Will’s throat bobs, and it takes everything Nathan has to stop himself from pressing a kiss against the softness of his skin, to hold back the news at the back of his own throat. “Let’s eat first, yeah?”
Will pulls away slightly, gratitude painted over his face. “Yeah. Let’s eat first.”
“Can I help with anything?”
“No, just take a seat and I’ll bring the food in a bit.”
Nathan sits obediently, turning the chair to watch as Will moves confidently around the kitchen, slicing bread and gathering crockery and cutlery. When the oven timer beeps he swings into action, ladling the chicken into the bowls and sprinkling it with chopped fresh herbs.
Nathan leans over the steaming bowl Will places in front of him, inhaling the rich, savoury scent. “Smells so good.”
“Thanks.” Will watches as Nathan raises a forkful of chicken to his mouth. “How is it?”
“Delicious,” Nathan smiles, warmth spreading throughout his body. “You’re a great cook.”
Will looks pleased, dipping a chunk of bread into his bowl. “Thanks.”
“How did you learn to cook, by the way? I ask as an inept boiler of rice, obviously.”
“I started by boiling things, too, but then I started watching cooking shows on TV, and then I bought a few recipe books, and things just went from there. Cooking’s mostly about preparation, really. As long as you read the recipe fully first so you know what to expect, it’s not hard.”
Nathan swallows another mouthful, sensing Will’s relief at the mundanity of the topic. “What’s your favourite thing to make?”
“Depends on the season. This time of the year, I just want to make one-pot casseroles, you know, things with rich sauces that warm you down to your toes. In the summer I like marinating meat and making salads and stuff.”
“Ever think about becoming a chef?”
“I don’t think I’d like cooking under pressure. At home, for people I care about, that’s the type of cooking I enjoy most.”
Their eyes meet and slide past each other, a shy acknowledgment of the sentiment simmering in Will’s words.
Conversation flows easily, light chatter about everything and nothing. It feels comforting, a contrast to the events of the day.
Eventually their bowls are empty, wiped clean with the last scraps of bread.
“Delicious,” Nathan proclaims, nudging Will’s calf with his socked foot. “Thank you so much for cooking. Can I do the washing up?”
“We can do it together. I’ll wash, you dry?”
It doesn’t take long, stood side by side at the sink, the work cosily domestic and comforting. When the dishes have been returned to their homes and the kitchen is sparkling clean, Will leads Nathan over to the sofa, tucking his leg under him so they’re sitting face to face.
He reaches across the table and cups Nathan’s face, thumb skating softly over his cheekbone.
The heat of his skin is a shock. Nathan suppresses a shiver, in awe at how such a simple gesture can carry such sensuality, such significance.
The past few hours have been full of hugs and hand holding, already a contrast to weeks of no contact at all, and yet this feels different again.
Will isn’t touching him mindlessly, seeking comfort, seeking support.
He’s touching him deliberately, almost greedily, like he’s sending a message.
“Nate,” Will murmurs. “Today was a lot.”
“It was,” Nathan agrees, eager to move forward.
Will’s lips quirk in a half smile. “Let me talk, okay? There are so many things I want to say to you.”
Nathan smiles back at him, full strength, reaching up to cradle Will’s hand where it rests against his face. He entwines their fingers, following Will’s lead as their hands drop downwards, coming to rest on Nathan’s knee.
“I was already starting to trust in us, you know. Before today, I mean. But I wasn’t quite ready to change things. Part of me is still scared I’m influencing you. But today… you could have died.”
Nathan shifts in his seat, ready to interject.