Chapter 6 Sparks
Close Enough
Gideon began finding reasons to cross the street.
At first, the reasons were easy enough to believe.
The cabinet hinge in the studio needed tightening again. Nico had mentioned that one of the stools was wobbling, and Gideon had a toolbox in the firehouse. Then there was the broken latch on the back door, followed by a question about whether a particular wall could support a heavy framed mirror.
None of these things required Gideon to be the one fixing them.
He knew that.
Nico knew it too.
Still, every time Gideon appeared at the studio, Nico simply handed him whatever needed attention and allowed him to work.
That made it easier.
Gideon could tell himself he was there because something was broken.
He didn’t have to admit that he liked being there.
The truth became harder to avoid as the days passed.
He liked the quiet music playing in the background. He liked the smell of ink and disinfectant. He liked watching Nico work, especially when the other man became completely focused on a design and seemed to forget everything happening around him.
Most of all, Gideon liked talking to him.
Their conversations had become easier.
They still argued.
Nico still called him stubborn.
Gideon still accused Nico of talking too much.
But the sharpness between them had changed. It no longer felt like a barrier. It felt like a language they were both learning.
One evening, Gideon walked into the studio carrying a small toolbox.
Nico looked up from his sketchbook.
“What broke?”
“Nothing.”
Nico smiled.
“That must be disappointing.”
Gideon set the toolbox on the counter.
“I was nearby.”
“You work across the street.”
“Exactly.”
“Very convenient.”
Gideon gave him a look.
Nico returned to his sketch.
Gideon stood there for several seconds.
“You’re not going to ask why I’m here?”
“I already know.”
Gideon frowned.
“You do?”
“You wanted to see me.”
The words landed harder than Gideon expected.
Nico looked up.
Neither man spoke.
Gideon had no answer.
He could have denied it.
Instead, he pulled out the chair beside the workstation.
“Maybe.”
Nico smiled.
“That’s progress.”
Gideon sat down.
They spent the next hour talking about nothing important. Nico showed him some of his recent designs. Gideon admitted that he liked one of them, though he refused to say which. Nico teased him about his terrible artistic judgment.
Gideon found himself laughing.
It surprised him.
The sound felt unfamiliar.
Nico looked at him when it happened.
Gideon noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re doing that thing again.”
“What thing?”
“Looking at me.”
Nico rested his forearms on the table.
“I like looking at you.”
Gideon went still.
Nico didn’t take the words back.
He didn’t make them into a joke.
He simply said them.
Gideon’s pulse began to beat harder.
“You shouldn’t.”
“Why?”
Gideon looked away.
“Because.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It is for me.”
Nico studied him.
“You’re afraid.”
Gideon looked back.
“I’ve been afraid before.”
“Not like this.”
Gideon didn’t answer.
Nico leaned back slightly.
“I’m not asking you for anything.”
“I know.”
“You don’t owe me a kiss.”
Gideon’s chest tightened.
“You don’t owe me an explanation.”
Nico’s voice remained calm.
“You don’t owe me a relationship.”
Gideon stared at him.
“Then why are you still here?”
“Because I want to be.”
That answer left Gideon silent.
He had spent years believing closeness came with obligations. If someone cared, they wanted something. If someone touched him, they expected something. If someone stayed, eventually they would ask him to become someone he wasn’t ready to be.
Nico wasn’t asking.
He was simply there.
Gideon looked toward the front window.
Outside, traffic moved along the street.
People walked past without noticing them.
Inside the studio, the silence between them felt almost intimate.
“You make this difficult,” Gideon said.
Nico smiled.
“I’m not doing anything.”
“Exactly.”
Gideon looked at him again.
“You’re not asking.”
“No.”
“You’re not pushing.”
“No.”
“You’re not scared off when I pull away.”
Nico’s expression softened.
“I understand that you need space.”
Gideon swallowed.
“That should make this easier.”
“Does it?”
“No.”
Nico gave a quiet laugh.
“Then maybe the problem isn’t me.”
Gideon looked at him for a long moment.
He knew the truth.
The problem was that he wanted Nico close.
He wanted his attention.
He wanted his voice.
He wanted the warmth of his hand.
He wanted things he had not allowed himself to want in years.
That frightened him more than any burning building ever had.
Physical danger was simple.
You assessed it.
You responded.
You survived.
This was different.
Nico could hurt him without ever intending to.
Nico could become important.
Nico could become someone Gideon could lose.
That possibility sat between them like a warning.
Gideon stood.
Nico didn’t move.
“I should go.”
“You can.”
Gideon looked at the door.
Then at Nico.
He didn’t leave.
Nico waited.
“You said I don’t owe you anything.”
“You don’t.”
“What if I want something?”
“Then you can ask.”
Gideon looked down.
“What if I don’t know what I want?”
“Then you don’t have to do anything.”
The answer should have made him step away.
Instead, Gideon moved closer.
Nico remained where he was.
Gideon stopped a few feet from him.
His heart was beating too fast.
He could hear it.
Nico probably could too.
“You’re very calm.”
“I don’t feel calm.”
Gideon looked at him.
“No?”
“No.”
Nico’s voice was quiet.
“I’m trying to give you room to choose.”
Those words reached deeper than anything else.
Room to choose.
Gideon had spent years believing his choices were defined by what happened in the warehouse. He had made one decision and watched it follow him everywhere. He had allowed guilt to become the rule governing every part of his life.
Now Nico was offering him something different.
Not an answer.
Not a promise.
A choice.
Gideon took another step.
Nico looked up at him.
There was warmth in his eyes.
No expectation.
No demand.
Gideon raised his hand.
He hesitated before touching him.
Nico waited.
Gideon slowly placed his palm against Nico’s cheek.
The contact was gentle.
Nico’s eyes softened.
He didn’t move into the touch.
He didn’t move away.
He simply allowed Gideon to decide how long it would last.
Gideon’s thumb rested near Nico’s cheekbone.
His skin was warm.
Real.
Gideon could feel the steady warmth beneath his hand.
Nothing happened.
No alarm sounded.
No building collapsed.
Nobody disappeared.
There was only the quiet room and the man standing beneath his hand.
Gideon breathed out.
“I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Nico’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“You don’t have to.”
Gideon looked into his eyes.
“I want to.”
“Then keep going.”
The permission wasn’t an instruction.
It was freedom.
Gideon let his thumb move gently across Nico’s cheek.
He had expected fear.
Instead, he felt something close to peace.
Nico lifted his hand but stopped before touching Gideon.
“May I?”
Gideon nodded.
Nico placed his hand against Gideon’s wrist.
The contact was light.
Gideon didn’t pull away.
For several seconds, they simply stood there.
Then Gideon lowered his forehead until it nearly touched Nico’s.
His eyes closed.
The closeness was overwhelming.
Not because it was dangerous.
Because it wasn’t.
There was no emergency.
No reason to fight.
No reason to run.
Gideon could stay.
He opened his eyes.
Nico was watching him.
“You’re shaking,” Nico said.
“I know.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
Gideon shook his head.
“No.”
The word came easily.
He kept his hand against Nico’s face.
The firefighter who had spent years refusing unnecessary touch was now the one who had reached for it.
Gideon knew that mattered.
He wasn’t ready to call it trust.
He wasn’t ready to call it love.
But he knew he had crossed a line.
Not one Nico had drawn.
One Gideon had drawn around himself.
And for the first time, he had chosen to step over it.
First Kiss
Gideon kept his hand against Nico’s face.
He had expected the moment to feel wrong. He had expected his body to react the way it usually did when someone came too close, with tension spreading through his shoulders and the instinct to step away taking over before he could think.
Instead, he stood there and breathed.
Nico remained completely still beneath his touch.
He did not lean forward.
He did not pull back.
He simply allowed Gideon to decide what happened next.
That was becoming the most dangerous thing about him.
Nico never took.
He waited.
Gideon moved his thumb slowly across Nico’s cheek. The warmth of his skin felt strangely intimate, especially after everything Gideon had spent years doing to keep people at a distance. He could feel the slight movement of Nico’s jaw beneath his palm and the steady rhythm of his breathing.
“You’re really not going to make this easier,” Gideon murmured.
Nico’s mouth curved slightly.
“I thought you liked difficult.”
“I don’t.”
“You keep coming back.”
Gideon looked into his eyes.
“That isn’t helping.”
“I know.”
There was amusement in Nico’s expression, but it wasn’t mocking. He understood the seriousness beneath Gideon’s words.
Gideon lowered his hand slowly.
For one brief second, he thought about stepping away.
Instead, his fingers brushed against Nico’s wrist.
Nico looked down at the contact.
Then back at him.
“Are you sure?”
Gideon nodded.
“Yes.”
Nico waited another moment.
“Tell me if you want me to stop.”
“I will.”
“Good.”
Gideon appreciated that answer more than he could explain.
He moved closer.
The space between them narrowed until he could feel the warmth coming from Nico’s body. His heart was beating hard enough that he wondered whether Nico could hear it.
Nico lifted his hand.
He stopped before touching Gideon.
“May I?”
Gideon nodded.
Nico placed his hand gently against Gideon’s chest.
The contact was careful, almost cautious.
Gideon looked down at the hand resting over his heart.
“You’re nervous.”
“So are you.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t.”
Nico smiled.
Gideon looked back at him.
“I’ve been thinking about this.”
“For how long?”
“Since I first saw you.”
Nico’s expression changed.