20. GIFT
20
GIFT
There was too much tension for any of them to sit. They stood in a loose circle around one of the tables; the same one, if Blair remembered right, where Adam had laid not that long ago dying of a homo, hema...whatever Wren had fixed. Wren had leaned there just minutes earlier while Reymond checked out his injuries. They weren’t severe, apparently, but the presence of them at all was enough to make Blair’s temples throb with anger. It was the same with the sight of Julian, his eyes fixed on the floor, present but also very much absent.
“The warehouse was our only lead,” Marie murmured.
Blair looked at their strategist pacing behind the bar, talking on the phone. “Spencer’s reaching out to his contacts hoping someone might have heard something on Isaac’s movements.”
“Fuck that,” Felix said.
Blair glanced over. “What?”
“Fuck the games, fuck chasing our goddamn tails, fuck Isaac. I’ll torch every fucking street in College Point until I smoke him out.”
“Boss, there are innocent people in—”
“Let them burn,” he growled, flattening his palms against the table. “If it’s between our own or some fucking people we don’t even know, then I’m gonna pick our people every time. We tried to play nice and look where the hell that got us.”
Blair didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. Whether any of them agreed with that kind of collateral damage or not, there was no disputing that they had been getting their asses handed to them left and right. Even Reymond, who seemed to be taking just enough time packing his medical bag to remain present for this conversation, didn’t interject, though Blair thought that was less because he agreed with Felix’s plan and more because he knew better than to get in the middle of it. From what he had learned of Reymond and the odd closeness that Blair had started to notice between the two of them, Reymond would try to talk to Felix later but everyone in the room knew speaking against him in front of Incindious was suicide.
“What’s the point?” Julian asked softly.
Apparently, some people in the room didn’t care.
Felix looked up with the fiercest stare Blair had ever seen him direct at one of his friends. “Excuse me?”
“What’s the point of beating Phantom if we become even worse than they are? But I mean if that’s what you want, go ahead. Go be the ruthless, cold blooded monster everyone on the outside thinks you are, just because outgunning Phantom is easier than outsmarting them.”
Felix’s blunt nails scraped the table as his hands clenched. “Jules. You’ve been through a lot. Take a walk.”
Julian looked prepared to say something else but Blair stopped him short with a hand on his elbow. “Come on, let’s get some fresh air.”
He threw Wren an apologetic look for leaving him, but Wren just waved him off and sat down on the couch with his phone. Blair allowed himself a moment of relief as the doors to the bar fell shut behind them; at times like this, he was glad Wren was fearless. Anyone else would probably feel like a piece of meat in a den of wolves if they were an outsider left with Felix, let alone an angry Felix.
“I’m not trying to hurt him,” Julian said as they reached the end of the block.
Blair stopped. “I know. I think he knows, too. He just doesn’t want to hear that right now.”
“They show it differently than us.”
“Huh?”
Julian’s eyes were fixated, unfocused on a sign across the street. “When they’re scared. Felix, Spencer, even your Wren, they don’t show it the same way we do. They don’t let themselves feel it because they’re big, tough morons, so they freak out when you make them face it.
“Felix can’t bury himself again. Last time he refused to deal with something, he was a teenager with so much pent up anger that it ate him alive until he burned a building down with someone inside it and went to prison.”
Blair had been following Julian’s gaze, but hearing that, his head snapped over to look at Julian again. “Someone was inside?”
“Yeah, that’s why he was tried for arson. Felix said he didn’t know but he already had a record by then, so the judge thought he needed to do time.”
Well, that explained the five year sentence. Blair had always thought it to be excessive before. “The boss is angry, he wants revenge for everything Phantom has been doing to us, to you. It’s not just blind rage. One of his best friends is hurting and he wants to make someone pay for that,” Blair said, running the toe of his shoe between two panels of the sidewalk. “He isn’t going to be mad if you sit out the rest of the fight. We all want you to be safe. And it’s like you told me not long ago, you didn’t want the wars and the violence, you just wanted to be with your friends. I’m sure they know that, too.”
“If I’m not there, who’s going to keep Felix from spiraling out of control? Spencer? He’ll only do that for as long as it’s the most tactically sound decision.”
I don’t think anyone can do that now . But he wasn’t going to say that, especially with the tremor evident in Julian’s hands and the way his eyes had misted over. “We’ll figure it out. There’s no such thing as a gang being on the right path but we can at least keep him on a better one.”
“Thank you.” Julian put a hand on Blair’s shoulder. “But I’m not going anywhere. I’ve been with those two idiots longer than I’ve been with the same family my whole life.”
“Well. I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything different.”
Julian smiled. “Come on, let’s get back.”
Most of everyone else had cleared out by the time they returned. Felix was sulking on the couch, leaving Doc and Wren at the bar talking to Spencer. Reymond was leaning across the bar to say something to the blond and Blair didn’t have to see Wren’s face to know he was rolling his eyes at their friendliness.
Blair put his hand on Wren’s back and asked just loud enough for him to hear, “You ready to get out of here?”
“Been ready since I walked in the door,” Wren said, getting to his feet.
Blair said his goodbyes and they walked outside together. The thing he’d ordered online was in his pocket, feeling so much heavier against his leg than it actually was. He rocked nervously on his heels when they got back to where their respective vehicles were parked side by side. “You wanna head back to your place?” Blair asked, trying to sound casual.
“Sure.”
“Okay. I’ll, um, follow you on my bike. So I can go back home. At some point.”
Smooth, Blair.
Smooth as a fucking cactus.
Wren raised an eyebrow. “Right.”
He spared Blair any further suffering by getting into the Audi and closing the door. Blair quickly got on his bike and started it up, not wanting Wren to arrive too long before him and have time to wonder why he wanted to come over—which he probably wouldn’t, because unlike Blair he wasn’t five and a half feet of concentrated anxiety. You got this , Blair told himself, even with his palms sweating around the handlebars.
He didn’t have this.
Nervous as he was, Blair still walked through the door of Wren’s apartment like it was his own. He couldn’t remember when he started feeling so comfortable there. That was like the rest of their relationship, though. At some point, the thing Blair had tried so hard to avoid had become the only stable thing in his life.
“Hey,” Blair said as he followed Wren into the bedroom.
Wren paused in pulling a shirt on. “What?”
He walked over and grabbed the shirt, pushed it back up over Wren’s head. “I, um.”
Blair heard a soft sound of amusement as the shirt hit the ground, and then Wren’s voice soothing and fraying his nerves all at the same time when he said, “Use your words, Blair.”
“Oh, shut up,” Blair said without any malice. “Just… hush for a minute.”
Wren sat on the end of the bed, so fucking pretty even with the bruises mottled across his ribs.
“I got you something,” Blair said, coming to stand in front of him.
That got him a curious look, and Blair reached into his pocket. His heart was beating in his throat so hard he could fucking taste it. He took out the long, black box.
It took a couple tries to open it since his fingers had started shaking. “I thought it looked kinda weird but it’s for you so I guess as long as you like it...” You’re babbling, Blair, get it the fuck together. “ It’s supposed to be a molecular structure.”
Wren stared at him and yeah, Blair guessed there were probably a lot of different molecular structures, but if he didn’t explain this in bits and pieces then he was going to collapse from nerves. He was already itching to open the window, hurl the box as far across Manhattan as he could, and use carnal means to convince Wren the conversation never happened so he wouldn’t ask questions.
Blair tossed the lid aside and held out the box. “Y’know back when we first met, I called you Sunshine to be funny because you seemed so glum. Then it was really funny cause you had never heard the song.” He laughed at himself since Wren didn’t seem to be up to the task. “But even though I joked about it back then, you really do… make me happy.”
Wren reached for the silver pendant, a crease appearing between his eyebrows. “Serotonin.”
“It’s totally fine if you don’t like it,” Blair said hurriedly.
“I do.” Wren sounded surprised to hear himself say it, brows drawing further together as he traced the pendant that Blair still held. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I do like it.”
Blair drew in a sharp breath. The simple words carved his chest open, ripped out some of his insecurities and replaced them with the softly spoken admission that should have seemed like nothing, but it was everything. “I can put it on you.”
Wren lifted his hair off the back of his neck without looking away. Blair lifted the silver chain off the backing inside the box and opened the clasp. The minute task of putting a necklace on someone became a tremendous effort as Blair reached around his neck. It took a couple of attempts but Blair hooked the clasp at his nape, and Wren let go of his hair, the inky strands spilling back onto his paper white shoulders.
Blair dipped his head to kiss him. For once their height difference was a help rather than a hindrance, as it made what would have been an awkward angle more bearable. Wren kissed him back eagerly, breaking it off only to slide further back on the bed, pulling Blair down with him. Blair lowered himself to the mattress on his knees and brought their mouths back together. Wren was as feverish and slightly impatient with his touches as ever, but there was an underlying… something that made Blair think Wren was just far enough out of his depth to give Blair what he wanted.
He separated from Wren, thumbs stroking over the flush that had formed in Wren’s face. Then he put his hand on Wren’s chest.
“Wren,” Blair said, gently pushing Wren down to lay on the bed. “Let me try something.”
“Try what?”
Blair worked Wren’s jeans and underwear down his legs and threw them aside, leaving him in nothing but the necklace and his glasses. “I want you to lay there and let me do everything.”
“Your—”
“If you say one more word about my leg, I’m throwing you out of your window,” Blair said calmly, standing long enough to shed the rest of his own clothes before settling astride Wren’s hips. He carefully removed Wren’s glasses and set them aside on the nightstand next to his pistols. “It’s okay.”
The sensation of Blair sitting on his cock made Wren instantly more complacent, a low moan slipping out. “Fine.”
Blair reached over and took the lube out of the nightstand drawer. He poured it over his fingers with more confidence than he felt, since he hadn’t previously considered that Wren would be watching him do all this if Blair wasn’t allowing him to help. His face burned as he reached behind himself. The lube was cold against his entrance, but it quickly warmed as he slid a finger inside. He braced his other hand on Wren’s chest and worked another finger in.
Wren stroked his thighs, from his hips down to the bend of his knees and back again. The touch uncoiled the last of the tension in Blair’s body. He looked down at Wren, who was watching him like he was some ineffable thing of beauty rather than a panting mess in his lap. Blair let out a shaky breath as he added a third finger and twisted and curled them until he felt ready.
It deepened the flush on his face, finding Wren’s cock already leaking precome on his stomach, just from watching him. Blair withdrew his hand and slicked it with more lube. He wrapped it around Wren’s cock and finally jarred the other man from his enraptured silence, Wren gasping and pushing up into Blair’s grasp. His hands tightened on Blair’s hips and Blair knew he was resisting the urge to take over. He rewarded Wren’s efforts by lining himself up with Wren’s cock and slowly, slowly sinking down.
Wren tried to watch but his head fell back against the pillows with a moan, and Blair admired the pale arch of his neck, interrupted only by the chain of his necklace. Fuck, he was beautiful. Blair let out a ragged breath as he sat fully on Wren’s cock. He didn’t know if it had ever felt this deep before, if he’d ever felt every inch of Wren stretching him quite so thoroughly. Wren panted underneath him, almost twitching with the need to move, staring at Blair through half-lidded eyes. Blair forced himself to hold that gaze as he raised his hips and lowered them back down, slowly fucking himself on Wren’s cock, breath catching on a moan.
“Blair,” Wren gasped, fingers flexing around Blair’s hips.
Blair leaned forward, laying himself over Wren’s body and holding himself up on Wren’s shoulders. He was close enough to feel Wren’s labored exhalations on his face. Contrary to the assurances he gave Wren, his thigh was aching, but this position shifted some of the strain to his hips and core instead. One of Wren’s hands curled around the back of his head. Blair sunk back down and cried out as Wren’s cock nudged his prostate. He found a rhythm, moving at a steady, tortuously slow pace, his cock trapped hard and leaking between their bodies.
Wren’s hand trembled on the back of his head and Blair smiled. “Feel good?”
Blair wasn’t just asking for the sake of dirty talk. He needed to know.
“Yes, fuck yes,” Wren breathed.
Blair kissed him. It was a kiss constantly broken by the need to breathe but he didn’t care, catching Wren’s lips between every stuttering gasp and muffled curse. He could feel the persistent heat of orgasm trying to engulf him and ignored it. Instead he put his hand on Wren’s neck, grinned when he felt Wren tense with anticipation, but he only traced the shape of the pendant resting in the dip of Wren’s throat, shifting back and forth as they moved. Wren made a soft sound that Blair would be willing to label as pleading—and he knew what Wren wanted.
Not this time .
For all that they bickered, it brought him no real joy to deny Wren anything; Blair was horrifyingly whipped for this man. At the moment, though, he was making an exception; touching without taking, letting his teeth skim over Wren’s lip but not biting, carefully withholding the pain Wren wanted so badly for Blair to bestow on him. Because Wren thought he needed it. But Blair had seen the worry and frustration in Wren’s eyes when they were planning the assault on the warehouse, had found fleeting evidence of affection in the way Wren now reached willingly for Blair’s hand while he was driving.
Wren thought he needed the pain because it was the only thing he could feel, but lately Blair had started to think otherwise, and now he knew it for a fact.
Wren could feel things just fucking fine. Even if he didn’t realize it yet.
It was clear in the dissonance of confusion and pleasure on Wren’s face as Blair looked down at him. His chest nearly touched Wren’s, he was laid so low across him, but Blair didn’t think far away was the best place to be when he was taking a sledgehammer to a load-bearing coping mechanism.
Wren had given up on trying to kiss him in favor of breathing heavily against his mouth, his muscles drawn taut under Blair like a tightrope. Wren’s sounds became louder, more erratic, with an almost panicked edge to them. Blair kept moving even as his muscles burned for relief. The veil of sweat between their bodies caused his cock to glide easily against Wren’s stomach, and it felt so fucking good, but Blair staved off the climax it tried to bring.
I wasn’t even supposed to like you , Blair lamented, gasping against Wren’s mouth. Let alone...
He felt Wren swell inside him, and his toes curled against the bed.
Wren tried to push himself up but Blair pushed him right back down with a hand to his chest. Under Blair’s palm, Wren’s heart raced wildly.
“Blair,” Wren choked, pressing his forehead up into Blair’s shoulder, and came undone.
Blair didn’t realize just how much he’d been holding himself back until the feeling of Wren coming inside him finally pushed him over the edge. It was a long drop. Blair’s cock spilled between them, his orgasm sapping the last of his strength, until he could only ride it out with small twitches of his hips that rubbed his slick head against Wren’s flat stomach. Having Wren’s cock situated so firmly against his prostate made him feel like he was never going to draw another full breath that didn’t seize in his throat from pleasure and overstimulation.
Heedless of the mess between them, he held Wren against him as they trembled through the aftershocks.
He exhaled against Wren’s neck until his own breathing was back to normal and every lungful of air didn’t feel like his last.
At some point, Wren slipped out of him. Blair shifted to the side so he wasn’t crushing Wren, but he kept a leg and an arm thrown over him, feeling Wren’s chest heave. He stared at the side of Wren’s face and didn’t know if he should feel worried or satisfied, with the way Wren’s eyes were open but seemingly sightless, blinking up at the ceiling like he had no fucking idea what just happened. Then again, he probably didn’t.
Blair reached up to tuck a sweat-slicked lock of Wren’s bangs behind his ear. “Felt good?”
Wren rolled his head to the side and looked at him. His brows pulled together, lips parting to answer, then closing. Blair smiled; he wasn’t going to make Wren answer him out loud, but he knew by the confusion written all over Wren’s face that he’d answered it to himself, and it was leaving Wren at a total loss. If Wren wasn’t in such a vulnerable state—and god, he was, if the look in his eyes was anything to go on—Blair might have taken some outward satisfaction in finally finding something that Wren couldn’t understand.
Blair laid his head on the pillow next to Wren’s, fingers curling loosely around the silver pendant around Wren’s neck. Wren brought a shaking hand up to cover Blair’s. Wren wasn’t looking at him from the safe distance he usually tried to keep, or from behind the walls he had spent years building so high that no one could see over them.
If pain was the only way he could feel anything during sex before, what is he feeling now? Blair wondered, once more straying dangerously close to the line he had drawn for himself. He had put it in place to keep from getting too invested when Wren may not ever be able to feel the same way, but Wren pushed him closer to it with everything he did; the way Wren touched him, the way he spoke, the stilted way he laughed—and what was the point of the stupid line, anyway, because Blair loved him.
Goddammit.
It’s not like he hadn’t realized it before, he’d just stomped it down every time it got too close to the surface. It had finally consumed too much of him to fit even in the most well protected corners of his mind. There was no room to run from it when he was looking at Wren and feeling it with every fiber of his being like a proven fact. The sun would come up in the morning, and the guns on the nightstand were loaded, and he was in love with Wren Masters.