Chapter Twenty-Three. Yadriel #2
Julian turned around, already tugging off his own shirt, but his grin faltered as his eyes landed on Yadriel. “Wait, are you wearing your binder to bed?” he asked, his tone shifting to something softer, more serious.
Yadriel hesitated, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “Yeah. It’s fine,” he mumbled, avoiding Julian’s gaze.
“Yads,” Julian said, giving him a theoretically stern look, “you know that’s not safe! You’re not supposed to wear it to sleep!”
Yadriel’s face flushed deeper, and he rubbed the back of his neck.
“I just … I don’t feel comfortable without it.
It’s weird.” Especially around all of Julian’s friends and his brother.
He was sort of okay with his own family, Maritza, and Julian seeing him without it on, but the idea of anyone else made him want to crawl out of his own skin.
Julian tilted his head thoughtfully, then grinned. “Okay, how about this—I’ll wear a hoodie to sleep, and you can wear one, too. Or,” he added with a teasing lilt, “I’ll block everyone from looking at you until you’re safely under a blanket. Like a bodyguard! I’m good at being a human shield.”
Yadriel snorted, his laughter breaking through his self-consciousness. “Yeah, that’s not exactly practical.”
“Fine, fine, fine, Mr. Practicality.” Julian’s grin softened into something gentler. “There’s gotta be another solution.”
Yadriel hummed, trying to rack his brain.
“Otherwise I’m going to tell Lita on you,” Julian said jokingly.
Yadriel rolled his eyes. “Lita barely knows what a binder even is.”
“Then I’ll tell Flaca!”
Yadriel scowled. Julian looked smug.
Yadriel rummaged through his drawer and hit his stash of old sports bras. “Yeah … yeah, okay. That works.” He pulled one out and then pointed at Julian. “Wall. Again.”
“Man, you’re really hung up on this wall thing, huh?” Julian teased but complied, spinning around with exaggerated flair.
Once he changed, Yadriel grabbed a hoodie for Julian, tossing it to him. “Here. Now you can be part of the hoodie squad.”
“Do I get an official membership card?” Julian asked, pulling the hoodie over his head. “Or is it more of an exclusive club situation?”
“Just put it on, dork,” Yadriel said, laughing as they left the room to rejoin the others.
“I like this,” Lita said now, appearing in the kitchen doorway and taking it all in. “A full house. Feels good, like the old times.”
Yadriel glanced at her, surprised by the softness in her tone.
He wondered if she was thinking about the family they had lost, the ones who used to fill this house with laughter and noise.
For a moment, he felt a pang of guilt, knowing that he had spent so much of his life pushing back against her traditions instead of appreciating the way she kept their family’s history alive.
On her way past, she touched two fingers to Luca’s wrist, checked his breathing, and set a small glass candle on the table beside him. “Déjenla encendida,” she said. “It keeps the door closed.”
Luca stirred, eyelids fluttering. “Gracias, Lita,” he mumbled, not quite awake.
“De nada, mi amor,” she said, giving his hair a pat. “Sleep.”
He angled toward the candle’s glow. The knot between his brows loosened, and his breathing slid into an even rhythm.
Everyone piled onto the various cushions scattered across the floor.
Rio claimed Lita’s recliner with his bat, closing his eyes.
Luca slept on the couch beneath the little glass candle, breath steady.
Lita hovered close, then let herself sit.
Rocky and Flaca nested on the stacked mats, arguing in whispers about blanket equity until Maritza rolled her eyes and fixed it for them.
Omar took the spot by the door, back to the wall, keeping watch without saying he was.
Yadriel’s phone on the kitchen counter buzzed. Enrique’s update blinked across the screen:
WARDS SET. TWO ON WATCH UNTIL DAWN. CALL IF ANYTHING HAPPENS.
Yadriel’s shoulders dropped a fraction. The fear didn’t vanish, but it loosened its grip.
The chatter thinned to a low hum and then to the soft rustle of settling bodies.
Maritza tiptoed through the sea of limbs, tugged a blanket up over Rocky’s shoulder, then tucked the edge under Flaca’s chin. “Babies,” she murmured, fond, and stole a marshmallow from the coffee table on her way back.
Julian stretched out beside Yadriel, boneless with exhaustion. He settled carefully, resting his head on Yadriel’s stomach instead of his chest, a quiet kind of respect that made Yadriel’s heart swell.
Outside the windows, the night stayed where it belonged. The little candle hissed once and went quiet.
Julian’s earlier promise to be a human shield now seemed less like a joke and more like instinct.
“This okay?” Julian murmured drowsily.
“Yeah,” Yadriel said, pulse tripping. He rested a hand on Julian’s back, his fingers brushing over the soft fabric of his shirt. “It’s … nice.”
Julian hummed in agreement, his eyes sliding shut.
They breathed together for a while, slow and even, until the room felt smaller and safer.
Yadriel watched him for a moment, taking in the curve of his lips, the way his lashes rested against his cheeks. Even in sleep, Julian carried a kind of intensity, like he couldn’t let go completely. It made Yadriel ache for him and with him.
“Hey, Jules?” Yadriel whispered, his voice barely audible.
“Mm?”
“I love you,” Yadriel said, the words landing before he could grab them back.
Julian’s eyes cracked open at him, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Wait—have we not said ‘I love you’ yet?”
Yadriel shook his head, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “No, we haven’t.”
Julian chuckled softly, his laugh a warm rumble against Yadriel’s stomach. “That’s wild,” he said, his voice thick with exhaustion. “’Cause I think it, like, all the time.”
Yadriel’s cheeks flushed, and he tightened his hold on Julian just a little. Something loosened under Yadriel’s ribs, relief and the stupid urge to laugh. “Good to know,” he murmured, a smile tugging at his lips.
Julian’s breathing evened out, his body relaxing completely against Yadriel’s. Across the room, Rio shifted in the recliner without opening his eyes. Lita’s candle burned steady beside Luca.
As sleep pulled Julian under, Yadriel closed his own eyes, letting himself be grounded by the weight of Julian’s presence.
For the first time in ages, Yadriel felt safe.