Chapter 4 #2
The bell rang just as Joshua was about to reply.
Tristan looked disappointed to see his investigation cut short, but went to open the door while Joshua dashed into his bedroom to pull on a pair of shorts and grab a T-shirt out of the closet.
He was still tugging it on, wet hair dampening the fabric, when he went back outside and arrived just in time to catch Leo’s light tenor, addressing Tristan.
“Are you supposed to be Joshua’s bodyguard? Because mate, I’m not convinced.”
“It’s all about dedication and loyalty,” Tristan replied, perfectly unperturbed. “I’d help Joshua hide the body. Any body.”
“By eating it,” Joshua supplied. Which probably sounded weird to people who hadn’t been around for his and Tristan’s earlier exchange.
Glancing up to gauge reactions, Joshua found Nate watching him with a vaguely amused expression.
Leo, on the other hand, was staring fixedly at Joshua’s hip, at the tattoo there, not yet covered by the hem of the T-shirt.
Joshua stilled his efforts in tugging it all the way down, holding his breath.
Leo blinked and snapped out of it. “I smell food,” he said, voice a little slow. “Baked cheese, praise Jesus our Lord and Saviour. But real talk, Joshua, still no bodyguard?”
Oddly disappointed, Joshua pulled his T-shirt all the way down. “Worried about me?”
“Hardly.” Leo raised a brow. “More like making plans to return with a ski mask and rob the place. Just let me know where you keep the crown jewels.”
“You couldn’t keep your mouth shut long enough to stay incognito.”
“Good point,” Nate said.
“Hey,” Leo protested. “You’re on my side, remember?” He kicked off his shoes beside the entrance, Nate following suit while looking around curiously. Leo’s shoes came to land a marked distance apart, while Nate arranged his in a neat parallel.
“This way to the kitchen,” Joshua told them. “There’s beer and wine.”
“Also food,” Tristan added.
“Also food.” Joshua nodded. He turned to lead them into the kitchen, speaking over his shoulder.
“And I’m not usually… I’m not always surrounded by bodyguards.
Or, I decided that I don’t want to be. Johnson was the one who did most of the day-to-day surveillance, and now it’s like…
” Not thinking about Johnson, Joshua was not thinking about Johnson, no.
He pushed on. “I do have some leeway in deciding when it’s necessary.
Official appearances are enough, right? And if I go out, or something. ”
“Might need to step it up after this story drops,” Leo said. “At least for a bit.”
The thought didn’t sit well with Joshua.
He didn’t care for someone else trailing his every step, seeing things he had never intended to disclose—but of course, once he was out, his biggest secret would already be public knowledge, making him less vulnerable and any betrayal exponentially less damaging.
Wear your secrets like a crown, Princeling.
“I’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” he told Leo.
Whatever Leo might have said was interrupted by steps on the staircase, just before a tell-tale rhythm of three sharp knocks sounded on the door.
Like Tristan, Mo had a key, but unlike Tristan, he had the decency to give Joshua a warning before barging in.
Bestowing upon others the same courtesy he expected, that was how Mo put it.
“That’ll be Mo,” Joshua said.
Nate, closest to the door, caught Joshua’s eye before he went to open. There was something a little stiff about him when he stepped aside to let Mo pass.
Mo shot him a smile, then uttered a quick hello at no one in particular and announced, “Bloody underwater shoots, man. Have me reeking like chlorine, and I don’t know what the fuck’s so sexy about, like, mermen with scales and fishy tails. Explain?”
With some amusement, Joshua noticed that Nate was openly gaping. Mo tended to have that effect on people. At least Leo seemed largely unruffled, a grin tucked into the corners of his mouth as he glanced from Mo to Nate and back. Joshua refused to acknowledge the relief that settled in his blood.
But. Fact was: Leo wasn’t staring at Mo as though he wanted to devour him, yet he’d been pretty captivated by Joshua pulling on a T-shirt. No one could blame Joshua for reading something into that. Not much, just enough to boost his self-confidence a smidgen.
“You’ve got make-up on your brow,” Tristan pointed out.
Mo raised a hand to rub at the spot. He looked deeply unamused, which was about his usual level of disdain for the pretentious artifice that often came with his job.
Experience suggested he’d be fine after a shower and with a cold beer in hand.
Joshua felt a smile twitch around his mouth. “Hey. Do you think mermen compare the size of their tails?” he asked.
“Or the size of their scales,” Leo put in, and Joshua was startled into a short laugh. Leo responded with a smirk, and yes, all right, it was possible Joshua liked him rather a lot. Even if it turned out to be one-sided.
The first time Leo had been to Joshua’s place, he’d taken only a quick peek into the bathroom. He hadn’t noticed the freestanding bathtub behind the door. Now, it made him halt in his steps.
White porcelain enamel and clawed feet, a mounted faucet, just like with—with René, that’s what he’d called himself.
Really, he’d probably been a Peter or a John.
Either way, he’d been one of only two regulars Leo had had, and he’d liked to wash Leo in a tub just like that, dirty boy, let’s get you clean for me, clean for Daddy.
He’d rub Leo down with vanilla-scented soap, and then he’d make him get out, still dripping water, to bend him over the sink and fuck him in quick, sloppy strokes, pulling out just in time to discard the condom and come all over Leo’s back.
After which Leo had tugged on his clothes over the mess and left. Clockwork, really. Pun intended.
It had been all right, though. No bruises, never any dispute over using protection, and the reliability of a bi-monthly appointment had played a big role in his decision to rent a shitty place in Lewisham.
Also, René’s tub had come with white feet. These were bronze and looked more expensive. And even if they had been white, it didn’t matter. Leo had been stupid back then. He wasn’t stupid anymore.
Turning away, he peed without casting the tub another glance. Joshua’s soap smelled of lavender and citrus, and Leo washed his hands twice until the scent was clinging to his skin.
His stomach was still strangely light when he rejoined the others, all of them spread around the terrace.
Outlined by the dim glow of fairy lights, Joshua was on his back on the floor, Tristan and Mo were sprawled on the sofa bed, and Nate had appropriated two chairs for himself.
In theory, Leo and Nate could have called it a night once they’d reviewed the options and settled on a rough plan, but then Tristan had made a remark about the English national squad that Leo had not been able to leave uncommented, and before he’d known it, they’d been in a discussion about zombie football, of all things.
Then there had been more beer, and some ice cream, and suddenly, the church bells nearby had struck ten, and it had been too late to pretend that this gathering was still of a professional nature.
Leo had found it almost too easy to sink into it.
Sitting down beside Joshua, Leo crossed his legs and counteracted the mild unease in his stomach with a firm, “Now, Princeling. Let’s talk Game of Thrones. And why everyone in line for a throne needs to watch it.”
“I thought it was a series of books?” Joshua asked, blinking up at Leo. The shadows turned his lashes to charcoal dust, and Leo was tempted to reach out and trace the bow of his upper lip.
He curled his hands into loose fists and rested them in his lap. “The books are for nerds.”
“Maybe I am a nerd.” Joshua sent Leo a tiny grin.
“You’re a prince,” Leo told him. “You can be eccentric, but never nerdy. It’s just not in the cards.”
Joshua chuckled, low and private, too quiet to carry. “I take it you’re an expert on princes.”
“Clearly,” Leo said lightly, very much a joke, nothing that had ever been even remotely true.
At all. “Know thine enemy, right?” To show that he wasn’t serious, he nudged Joshua’s hip with his knee, and Joshua’s grin grew, the darkness not quite enough to conceal the dimple pressing into his left cheek.
“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Makes sense.” Joshua nodded.
Nate chose that moment to get to his feet, steadying himself with a hand on the frame of the sofa bed.
He’d shared a bottle of wine with Mo, and much to Leo’s amusement, the effect was starting to show; it was the tipsiest Leo had ever seen him.
Quite a change for someone who clung to control just as much as Leo himself did.
“Gonna take a piss,” Nate announced. “Anyone need something?”
“How is you pissing and someone needing something connected? Are we talking golden showers?” Leo asked, tipping his head back for a smirk.
“Twat.” Nate flushed, his forehead wrinkling unhappily. “From the kitchen. Like beer, or stuff.”
“Fruit, please? There should be cubed ones in the fridge.” Joshua waved a hand.
Tristan snorted. “Course that’s what you want. ‘nother beer for me, yeah?”
“I’ll come with,” Mo said. He slid off the mattress and headed on inside. For a moment, Nate stood awkwardly suspended, staring at the bright rectangle of the doorway before he followed. He hit his hip on the doorframe and cursed, glancing back over his shoulder with a pained expression.
As soon as he was gone, Joshua propped himself up with his arms behind him, stomach dipping in, his T-shirt straining around the chest. His tone was thoughtful. “Is Nate always that clumsy?”
“Not at all.” Leo paused and selected his next words carefully, studying Joshua’s features for any sign of discomfort. “Is this weird?”