The community center was quiet for a Thursday. With vacation and beckoning winter celebrations a day away, Nick expected the ebb of youthful visitors to slow down. Besides, early afternoon was always the calmest, no matter the day. Perhaps that was why he’d chosen this particular time for the support group. Sure, it served those who worked nights, unlike most of the other meetings usually held in the evenings, but Dr. Mahler had had a few requests to organize one during the day, and that was where Nick came in.

He’d been back in his hometown for two years, and soon after settling in, he’d started attending one of the grief support groups. Not that his loss was still fresh, not after years, but as a check-in with himself. As an example for others that, yes, survival was possible. He’d made friends with the local therapist; she was supportive, and he’d booked a session or two when he needed an objective ear. He was doing well.

With a smile to himself, Nick checked on the coffee thermos on the side table, then made sure the heaters underneath the windows of the meeting room were turned on. Outside, snow fell in sparse flakes. Not enough to settle and disrupt activity, but enough to give the air that chilling bite of winter.

Beyond the hills on which the town stretched, the mountains rose toward the gray sky, covered in thick pine forests. He’d missed the view. Missed the people, the smells, the buildings.

He was back to stay. No matter what happened, he wouldn’t leave again. He’d made sure to have some safety nets this time around, just in case. Volunteering for the center, for one, running this group for another, and Dr. Mahler, whom Nick had grown to trust after two years.

Nothing, however, was more important than the people in his life.

Footsteps and voices from the corridor pulled Nick from his musings. He turned to greet the two people walking in, and then another, and another, until six strangers sat in the circle of folding chairs, staring at him. Nick cleared his throat.

“I guess we should start,” he said. “Hello, everyone. My name is Nick, and I’ll be your group leader here. I’d like to remind you that this is not a therapy session, but only a space to talk. If you feel like you need more, Dr. Mahler is here.”

He gestured then, to the side, where a small office was nestled behind glass windows, door closed. The doc waved at them from her desk, legs kicked up casually onto it, crossed at the ankles, an open book in her hand. She grinned and gave them all a thumbs-up.

Around Nick, a couple of people nodded, someone waved back, and the youth with their nose in the collar of their hoodie snorted. Nick made a mental note to check later on their age.

“Doc will be here until tonight, so if you wanna sneak back after we’re finished…”

That, at least, earned him some chuckles. Nick tried not to read too much into it. He’d been to meetings full of strangers before. This would be no different. Determination reinforced, he took a deep breath.

“We’re here to talk, but don’t feel like you have to. You can just listen, if that works. But I’d like to remind everyone to be mindful and respect the privacy of these meetings.”

All nodded, and Nick copied the gesture with a thank-you.

“Has anyone been to one of these meetings before?”

Headshakes and muttered noes.

“Well.” Nick shifted. “We talk about those we’ve lost. We talk about us. The weather. Sports. Music. That movie last week with all the sword fighting.”

“And blatant disregard for proper archery,” a woman said.

“That too.”

“Does it help?”

Heads swiveled to the person in the hoodie.

“It can,” Nick said. “Sometimes it helps to just be around people who’ve been through similar things. Not everyone processes in the same way, though, so it might not be as useful.”

“Have you— Did—” Hoodie shook themself into silence, and Nick nodded anyway.

“I’ve been there. Actually, this week marks a sort of anniversary for me, so I wanted to start by telling you my story if you’d like to hear it.”

That got him their attention. Curiosity and wariness, too, but it was to be expected. First time could be scary, especially under the strain of mourning. Nick remembered with clarity his first visit to an informal support group. His first group session, though, was hazy around the edges. He leaned forward, elbows on knees, and clasped his hands together.

“I was born here. With the exception of college, I’ve lived here for twenty-six years. I had a wife and a best friend and a baby on the way.”

He’d had Lauren and Jeff, twins he’d known since childhood. Through shenanigans and quiet moments and major decisions, they’d always been there. Nick and Lauren had gotten married right after college, and four years later—

“My wife died during childbirth. I watched it happen, and it’s not an image I can ever unsee. It broke me enough that my immediate thoughts were harmful toward myself and the baby. A girl. Innocent and frail, and not at fault at all. I left before I even held her once, and then spent the next seven years healing. Wasn’t pretty. Hurt a lot.”

Nick swallowed and shifted, pausing to collect his thoughts.

“What happened to her?” Hoodie asked.

“My wife’s twin brother adopted her. He was also my best friend.”

Not anymore. Jeff had a new bestie. When Nick first met Amber, he hadn’t paid much attention. It had been a brief interaction as it was, two years back, when she’d provided a ride to Jeff’s place. Amber was tall and sometimes moved like she wanted to make herself smaller. Less visible. Quiet too. Later, Nick learned she kept most people at a distance. Not in any way that might’ve been rude or hostile, but more along the lines of hiding behind a hard, thick shell. Kinda like Nick used to be, way back.

A deep breath.

“I hurt both him and the kid,” Nick continued, “because I stayed away for a long time. No contact whatsoever.”

“You suck,” Hoodie commented, but Nick fully agreed.

“Yes. Grief can make us hurt others, even when we don’t want to. It’s not excusable, though it can be explainable. Still, being mindful of those I loved was a hard-learned lesson for me.”

“But now you’re back.”

Nick nodded. “We’re working on me making up for it.”

“How?” The question came from the side, a woman with a drawn face, hugging her middle with both arms. Nick recognized that look. Guilt.

“I returned two years ago,” Nick said. “Found my friend and the kid happy. There was even a second parent involved—my friend’s life partner. Instead of being reasonable, I blew it by being an ass to them. Said mean things, made threats. Friend’s partner made me see logic. I’m grateful for him being there. They got married this summer.”

He offered a quick grin, blinking back the sting behind his eyes. Daniel was someone Nick respected through and through. He was good for Jeff and Abby.

“I don’t understand why they forgave me for being such an ass, but they did. As for my long absence… That’s the part with more serious repercussions and has been a lot harder to work through. Friend is letting me though. He’s willing, but I had to take the first step. Say that first apology—” He looked at the woman who’d asked directly. “—and not expect it to be accepted.”

“Harsh.”

“Yes, but we make mistakes, and we must bear the consequences. The best we can do after hurting others is to allow them the space they need, and understand if they can’t forgive.” With a long exhale, Nick straightened. “It’s not that grim. Sure, in the wake of what you—we’ve all been through, it might seem that what comes ahead is insurmountable. Sometimes it is, in which case you either dig through or go around, or choose a whole different path. It might also be a long, drawn-out, tiresome battle. Grief is not easy. But it’s survivable.”

And that was the whole point. That was why Nick was there, opening himself up over and over again.

“My journey is in a good place right now. I’m an uncle for the kid, her parents are my friends, and hey, I even have a boyfriend. Accidental acquisition, it was very rom-com.”

Faces perked up with undisguised interest, and Nick offered them a small smile. He got it. After Lauren, when the pain had still been so fresh he could taste it, he’d latched on to happy tales as distractions on the good days. On the bad ones, not so much. Looking around the room, it seemed his current audience wanted to hear this part of his story.

The previous year, they’d spent part of the holidays on a training retreat with Abby’s elementary school chess club, along with other third graders from all around. Daniel and Amber had chaperoned, with Nick and Jeff trailing along.

“Last winter vacation we went to this resort in the Alps. It involved a lot of children, chess, and snow—more like yelling on the slopes, actually—but it was fun. First time I met him, he threw line after line of quips while I stood there, all coherence gone. In retrospect, I should’ve realized it, but you know”—he gestured—“I was unaccustomed to someone catching my interest so suddenly.”

Nick had replayed that particular moment in his head over and over again. Leon smirking, stupid green hat over curls poking out in tiny swirls at his temples.

“And then we found out we had to share a room. You’ll never guess—”

“There was only one bed,” said Hoodie with a groan.

“Yep! We had a connection during that short vacation, but we parted ways, and I thought that would be that. Only, after I’d gotten home, I figured I didn’t want it to end. I had no idea he was coming here for New Year’s, so on December 31st, he found me in the park, brooding over lost chances.”

A few half smiles twitched around the room. Hoodie gave a thumbs-up.

“So your anniversary is coming up,” an old man to the left commented.

“Indeed. Speaking of, friend and partner’s anniversary is on the thirtieth. Seems to be a trend with us.”

Not to mention Sara and Amber had gotten together around Christmas, too, as far as Nick could tell, but those two had several anniversaries they celebrated during the year, and Nick was unclear on which was what.

The old man nodded pensively. “Martha and I, we had it on Halloween. We celebrated the day before and the day after. She said we couldn’t let candy steal all our fun, though she loved giving it out.”

With that, the others started pitching in, and Nick gave himself an inner pat on the back.

★

When Leon had first entered Jeff Weber’s home, he’d been nothing short of mesmerized. The whole town stretched over hill slopes, in between patches of forest. In the center, the buildings clustered closer together, with all the amenities and functionalities a town would need. The residential areas, however, stretched and compressed in waves of houses and trees. From up on the mountain, it looked like a wrinkled green fabric decorated with tiny dwellings.

Jeff’s home was off to the side, nestled in a clearing. Driving up to it always reminded Leon of those places fairy tales talked about, filled with magic and otherworldly atmosphere. It was the last house of the neighborhood before the forest thickened to surround one of the town’s two tiny lakes. Summer cabins ringed the one closer to Jeff’s idyllic property. The Webers had a place there, too, a shoddy little one-room with creaky beds where Nick took Leon for stargazing in the summer.

Inside Jeff’s house, the ground floor opened wide. Kitchen to the left, separated from the rest of the space by a long counter. Daniel’s home office to the right, with a desk and shelves filled with books and snow globes collected from travels. On the far side—Jeff’s workspace—paperwork sat in stacks, square shelves and cabinets covered the wall, and the desk lifted at an angle so Jeff could work on his plans.

A round fireplace occupied the middle of that, the flue extending to the upper floor to emerge into another fireplace on the wide terrace there. Jeff had confided in him, at some point as they talked about their dream homes, that he’d only built half of the second floor, leaving the rest open, due to lack of resources. He had every intention of adding more bedrooms, aside from Abby’s and the master, but Leon had convinced him otherwise. Lounging up there with the fire crackling close by, overlooking the forest, was better than having beds during sleepovers. He and Nick, and no doubt Sara and Amber, too, could continue to bunk in sleeping bags on the ground floor.

The only problem, or at least mild inconvenience, was the downstairs living room area furnishing. The smallest sofa ever wasn’t really enough for six adults, never mind when Abby’s friends came over, so they spent a lot of time on the floor. Eating around two mismatched coffee tables was fun and all, but months of lounging on lumpy floor pillows wasn’t doing anyone’s back any favors. Complaints had never been voiced, though, at least not where Jeff could hear them.

It was a quirk of the place, which was otherwise enjoyable in many ways. Not so much when he needed to curl up in a blanket on something with good lumbar support and with copious amounts of hot chocolate. And Leon spent a lot of time at Jeff’s—as much as he and Nick spent at each other’s apartments, and more than he met Sara elsewhere.

Thing was, Leon loved it. Their routine dinners when Jeff and Nick cooked, when he commiserated with Daniel and Sara and Amber over the woes of teaching, when Abby brought that extra spark only the exuberance of childhood could bring—it felt like family. Who would’ve thought that his sister dating Amber online long-distance could bring Leon here? Nevertheless, Leon felt fortunate.

Perhaps even more so today. Though his arms burned and his everything was sweaty, it was for a good cause. Jeff had bought two larger sofas and an impressive number of floor pillows. Now, he and Sara were in the process of rearranging the living space to fit everything around the fireplace.

“Why couldn’t your husband help again?” Leon asked as he plopped down to Jeff’s right on one of the new couches. He handed off waters to Jeff and then to Sara, who sprawled on Jeff’s other side.

“Because it’s a surprise,” Jeff replied with as much patience as he had the last ten times Leon asked.

Leon grumbled. Around them, the furniture was in position, but they still needed to put the covers on the sofas and pillows, pick up the packaging debris for recycling, and find all of Jeff’s tools.

It was the best surprise, really. It made Jeff’s home even more welcoming. Leon had done it for Nick, and Sara for Amber. Leon suspected Jeff had done it not only for Daniel and Abby, but for all of them—the people in his life and those gone.

“They’ll love it,” Leon said, just as Jeff let his head fall on the backrest with a long sigh.

Sara bent forward, enough to catch Leon’s eyes with a question on her face. Leon shrugged, then leaned into Jeff, temple on his shoulder, while Sara matched on the other side. Leon and Sara were identical—as much as a trans man could be identical to his cis twin sister. But they had the same curly hair, dark skin, and eye color. He’d seen pictures of Lauren and Jeff as kids, and while their adult features had been slightly affected by the passage of time, the resemblance had remained.

Soon after moving here, Leon and Sara discovered Jeff got something soothing out of hanging out with the two of them, ranting about siblings and childhoods and the specificities of being twins instead of siblings born apart. And the two of them would indulge him, listening to him go on about Lauren and the trouble they’d gotten into. If Leon got a little insight into Nick, as well, that was just dessert and not the main course. It was probably why he and Sara had befriended Jeff so quickly, even though there were moments when their time together was tinged with sadness.

“Don’t forget you promised to feed us,” Sara reminded.

“Casserole’s in the fridge. I’ll get it in the oven when we’re done.”

“It’s gonna be dark by then,” Leon whined. Jeff poked his ankle with a toe.

“It would’ve gone faster if we didn’t have to remove our shoes every time we carried a box inside,” Sara added.

“No,” Jeff said. “Not happening; shoes stay at the door.”

“Not even for a quick walk by?”

“Sounds like there’s a story in there.”

“Damn right there is.” Jeff gestured without dislodging either of them. “When Abby was about three, I came home from a construction site with a worm stuck to the sole of my boot. It transferred to the carpet, Abby freaked, we held a funeral. Had to replace the carpet too.”

Leon shuddered. “Okay, okay, no more. Shoes at the door.”

Sara made a face as she rolled to her feet. “Butts off, let’s finish.” She kicked at their legs, and Leon kicked back, but she’d already moved away, laughing.

★

Not much later, the three of them gathered around the kitchen counter, waiting for the deliciousness cooking in the oven. Sara put her phone down with a sigh.

“Amber texted. No baby this month either.”

Jeff patted her arm gently. “Let me know when you need me again.”

“Thanks,” Sara said. “And thanks for donating.”

“It’s what family does, isn’t it?” he told her, echoing Leon’s lingering thoughts. “Speaking of which, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Another surprise?” Leon asked, aiming for levity, but Jeff just looked slightly uncomfortable.

“Kinda… Well, actually, maybe a surprise would be a bad idea, and that’s why I wanted to get your opinion first. You two are more objective when it comes to Amber and Nick than I could be.” He faced Sara. “You and Amber have been together for over two years and are starting a family. Nick,” he said to Leon, “has been happy with you this past year, and I know you want to move in together, while he’s dragging his feet in usual Nick fashion, so probably this would help with that too.”

Leon raised his eyebrows, Sara raised hers, and Jeff cleared his throat.

“The neighbor down the road is selling his land. There’s his old house there, sturdy foundation, and room for another one in between ours and his, so I was thinking of buying it. Well, we’d be buying it together, but I’d take care of building the— What?”

“Wow,” Sara breathed while Leon’s face split in a grin.

Maybe it was that first impression of Jeff’s home, maybe all the good memories he’d been building in this place, or the persistent sentiment of growing family that made Leon say, “I’m all in.” Nevertheless, the conviction came from knowing he’d want to aim long with Nick. Very long.

“Dude,” Sara said, a hand on Jeff’s shoulder. “This is an amazing idea, and I’m sure Amber would jump on it, but it’s not good for a surprise. What does Daniel think?”

“Um.”

Leon bounced a little in his chair. “I know”—Leon waved off Sara’s scowl—“it needs discussing, but ngh.” He fluttered his hands, earning smiles. It wasn’t his fault this was an answer to his wishes.

“Boys,” Sara said, and Leon shook himself. She faced Jeff again. “Tell Daniel first.”

“And then you’ll talk to Amber and Nick?” Jeff asked, puppy eyes ready to come out.

Sara smacked his shoulder.

She didn’t say no, though, which almost made Leon snicker until he realized he’d been volunteered to present this to Nick.

“Hey!”

Jeff raised his hands in mock-innocence, but then quietly said, “I’ll do it if you don’t want to.”

Really, it wasn’t that. It was just—Nick had set a glacial pace to their relationship from the start, and Leon didn’t want to push. Nick had yet to give Leon an answer to his cohabitation question, so it had been put on the table for a while now. But he wasn’t in a rush either. Part of the charm of them was how slowly they’d been taking everything.

“I think it would be better if it comes from you,” Leon said. “He’s been waiting for…” He waved, unsure how to continue. Nick had been waiting for Jeff’s forgiveness for a long time.

Jeff nodded. “I know. All right.”

“But,” Sara chimed in, “not unless Daniel approves.”

“Ay, ay,” Jeff said with a salute, just as the front door opened.

In the span of ten seconds, Abby shrieked, shucked her shoes, and dove onto one of the bean bags next to the nearest coffee table.

“Careful,” Jeff called.

Still in the doorway, Daniel made a choked sound. Jeff walked over and closed the door behind him.

“Surprise, honey?”

Daniel blinked. “Definitely.” As he looked up at Jeff, though, his bewilderment morphed into a smile that grew larger with each inch that Jeff’s face drew nearer.

They kissed long enough for Abby to make “ew” noises while trying to hide her giggles. Leon and Sara grinned at each other and high-fived.

The door opened again, almost hitting the pair, and it was Amber’s turn to gawk.

★

While Daniel went to change out of his work clothes, Jeff checked on the food and pulled out containers for Leon and Nick’s shares. “Unless he’s coming over?” Jeff asked.

Leon shook his head. “Not tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll be here.” As much as Leon would have preferred otherwise on this particular evening, the days when Nick had group meetings were not good for socializing.

Abby climbed on the stool next to Leon. “Tell him I said hi, and that Daddy got us the new game so we can play it. I’ll be Wednesday, of course.”

One thing Leon had learned about the kid was her passion for the Addams family, which also meant spooky tales and a propensity for drama. All her brilliance went into spinning wild stories. She’d achieve great things in life, he was sure. Maybe walk in Nick’s footsteps and become a writer.

“Will do,” Leon promised.

“I’ve been wondering,” Sara said, pointing at Jeff and Daniel, “if Abby is Wednesday, which one of you is Gomez and which one Morticia?”

“Daddy’s Ms. Morticia,” Abby said, just as Daniel quipped, “Jeff’s Morticia.”

Of course, Jeff choked. “It’s because I’m tall, isn’t it?”

Daniel shook his head, smirk on his lips. “No, darling, it’s because you’d look fabulous in a dress.”

Jeff blushed, and Leon fist-bumped Abby. On the other side of the counter, Amber laughed while Sara eyed Jeff speculatively up and down.

The ping of the oven saved Jeff from deciding on a dress color—which, of course, should be black, everyone agreed. But a blue-black or red-black?

“Is Ben not with you today?” Jeff asked, turning off the oven while Amber fetched plates from the cupboard.

“He missed school. And his phone is turned off.”

“Really?”

Abby nodded. She seemed dismayed by the absence of her best friend. “We were supposed to make a card together, but he missed everything. Even Ms. Evelyn’s cookies!”

“I talked to Evelyn. The school got a note from his parents,” Daniel said. “But when I tried to call his house, no answer. He probably caught a cold, but I can drop by tomorrow after school and check on him.”

Abby nodded really fast this time. “Can I come?”

“Sure,” Daniel said and gave a one-armed hug.

The two children had been almost inseparable since the chess retreat last winter when Abby’d bonded with the one boy who seemed to have no one to call at home. Leon had been worried, but it seemed the parents were borderline workaholics. Ben was well clothed, clean, properly fed, and healthy, and the counselor had even checked on his mental state. His parents got involved, just not enough to be as nurturing as a child needed. It rubbed Leon the wrong way, and he wasn’t the only one, seeing how Ben had become a regular fixture at Jeff’s. They’d all been keeping an eye out for trouble, although Leon couldn’t do much since his job was at the high school and not the elementary.

★

As a child, Nick had been partial to wide-open expanses, to watching the world from a distance and taking it in as a whole. After Lauren, though, he found himself seeking comfort in tight spaces. It made him feel protected, small enough for tragedies to ignore and avoid him. During his long hospital stays, he’d found a way to create a nook for himself, surrounded on three sides. He brought this habit with him when living alone, a corner of the room dedicated to this safe space.

At his current apartment, the cuddle cave, as Leon called it, was wide enough to fit both of them between two walls and a bookshelf. Leon liked to wedge himself in sideways, with Nick in his arms, and rest his feet on the panel of the shelf. If Leon hadn’t insisted on anchoring the thing, they would’ve probably toppled it already.

After the group meeting earlier, Hoodie had lingered, first helping Nick sort out the refreshments table, shuffling on wary feet, and then slipping into Doc’s office just as Nick was leaving. That was a good thing, Nick reckoned. The meeting felt like it had gone well, overall, giving him a certain amount of satisfaction, despite the ball of anxious pressure growing in his chest. He tried to keep himself from going back over every little detail, tried to push away the second-guessing.

Leon entered the apartment, the aroma of dinner wafting through with him, just as Nick was curling up on the pillows in the safe corner. Leon soon appeared and shed his sweater and jeans while Nick made room for him.

His skin was chilled, smelled of winter and Jeff’s cooking, and a little bit of sweat. Nick leaned back in his arms with a long exhale.

“You’re always so warm,” he said.

Leon poked his cheek with a freezing finger. “Are you sure?”

With a tsk, Nick grabbed Leon’s hand and shoved it under his shirt, pressed it against his belly for warmth. The contact caused a shudder, Leon’s gentle “Thank you” caused a shiver, and Nick’s eyes stung.

“Aw, no,” he said, his breath already catching at the back of his throat. He closed his eyes just as tears spilled over.

Leon’s free hand came around and pulled his head into the crook of his neck. “S’okay, let go. I’m here.”

Nick didn’t attempt to cut it off, or wiggle out, or hold his breath until it passed. He let it happen, as he had before in Leon’s presence. He meant safety. Gentleness.

Minutes ticked in silence. Not sobs or gasps, but a flowing balancing of an overfull container. As the pressure unwound, Nick focused on the rise and fall of Leon’s chest, matching it movement by movement, a long sway of waves lapping at the shore. Leon’s fingers brushed his cheek for a bit until they came to rest, cool and refreshing, over his heated eyes.

Slowly, whatever it was that needed out tapered off, and Nick released a small whine.

“Meeting didn’t go well?” Leon asked.

“It did. Just…talked about Lauren today.”

“Understandable.”

Nick pulled Leon’s hand off to look at him, blinking wet eyelashes, only to be met with Leon’s brilliant smile.

“Hey, Nicky,” Leon whispered, and Nick had to catch it, drink it in.

“Hey,” he said, lips pressed against Leon’s, or as much as he could reach half twisted.

They spent a while there, simply sitting and touching and soaking up body heat—speaking of which.

“You are warm,” Nick repeated. “But, metaphorically.” He tapped his own temple. “You feel warm in here.”

Leon hummed in understanding, a smile playing on his lips, and Nick let out a mock-exasperated huff.

“Babe, you know what complimenting me like that does to me,” Leon said, but he couldn’t keep in the laughter.

Nick turned around to kiss him properly, but all he managed was to tumble them out of the nook in a tangle of limbs. Quickly, he rolled over and straddled Leon’s thighs, leaning in. In some show of rebellion, Nick’s stomach gave a long growl, matched by Leon with a howl of laughter, so Nick tickled his side in retaliation, garnering more guffaws.

“After dinner, then,” Leon said when the wheezing abated, though Nick still grinned wide enough that his cheeks hurt.

★

Later, as they snuggled under the covers, Leon kept going back to Jeff’s proposal. He continued running his hand through Nick’s hair, content, but the thought pushed itself forward the more Leon fought to suppress it. If Nick weren’t awake, he probably would’ve won. As it was, Nick was still blinking slowly at the ceiling and the long patches of light coming in from the streetlamps.

“Not looking to force an answer,” Leon whispered, half hoping Nick wouldn’t hear because, deep down, he knew what Nick was going to say. “But have you thought some more about moving in?”

Nick turned to look at him, a small frown creasing the space between his eyebrows.

“I did.”

“And?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m sor—”

Leon hurried to press his palm over Nick’s mouth. “Nothing to apologize for. I said I’d wait, and I’ll wait. Was just curious, that’s all.”

He gave a smile for good measure, which became relieved when it was returned.

★

“Last day of school is over,” Leon said as he settled into the passenger seat. He closed the door with flourish. “Vacation, here we come!”

Nick smiled at him and placed a peck on his cheek. He was looking forward to the next couple of weeks. Unlike last year, the chess club was scheduled to go on a training retreat during a short break in spring. This meant that Jeff, Abby, and Daniel could fill the upcoming days with the traditions they’d been collecting during Christmas. Leon and Sara would add to them this year, Nick figured. And then, there was Amber, who was no longer a sore reminder to Nick of what he’d lost in closeness to Jeff, but the new friend she’d become since summer.

When Nick went to start the car, Leon touched his arm.

“Wait, I have to make a quick stop downtown. The school secretary asked me to drop off some paperwork. He had an emergency at home or whatever.” Leon wiggled a sealed envelope.

“Sure,” Nick said and followed Leon’s directions.

The Child Services Office was bustling with activity Nick hadn’t been expecting this close to the holidays. People hurried left and right, carrying stacks of paper, boxes, and folders. He waited out of the way, not straying far from the main doors as Leon disappeared down a corridor.

He was considering returning to the car when something bumped into him, then immediately tightened around his waist from behind. He turned, and—

“Ben? What are you doing here?”

Ben said nothing, just looked at him with big eyes, seeming scared in a way Nick hadn’t seen before. He tried to twist so he could face the boy, but instead of letting go, Ben pressed closer, burying his face into Nick’s coat.

It had only been a minute of Nick unsuccessfully trying to extricate himself out of Ben’s clutch when Leon came back. At the same time, a woman ran to them, her long hair flopping over her face as she skidded to a halt. She pulled it back into a ponytail, looking up. Her eyes narrowed as she took Nick and Ben in.

“Mariani, is that you? Heard you were back in town.”

Nick shrugged. “Hey, Riri.”

“Don’t call me that,” she said, a lot sharper than Nick remembered her being.

“Hi?” Leon gave a little wave from the side. “Is that Ben?”

“You know Ben?”

“He’s my niece’s friend,” Nick said, then tipped his chin toward Leon. “My boyfriend.”

Leon extended a hand, which Riri shook. “Leon Gauthier.”

“Ramona Radu. Do not call me Riri, no matter what this fool says.”

Despite himself and the growing worry for the child holding on to him, Nick grinned a little, for old times’ sake. “We went to high school together,” he explained.

Ramona gave him her best glare, just as Ben shuffled enough to look around at her. She tipped her head to the side, expression gentling into inviting and open.

“Why is Ben here?” Leon asked quietly, trepidation in his voice.

Ramona raised an eyebrow with half a grimace, angled so Ben wouldn’t see it.

“Look,” Leon said, “Ben’s like family to us. If something happened, maybe we can help.”

She worked her jaw while Ben went back to hiding. Nick petted his arm and the fist holding his coat and nodded.

“Ben’s friend is…?”

“Jeff Weber’s daughter, Abby.” Nick watched as her face slowly fell. She’d probably been around when Abby’s adoption went down. “Yeah,” he confirmed, trying for a smile, but it came out a little sadder than he wanted.

He could tell she had some questions, though now wasn’t the time for them. She nodded at him once in understanding before turning her attention back to the kid.

“Ben? How about you and Nick get a snack? Would you like that?” Then, in the softest whisper, she added, “He hasn’t eaten all day.”

“I could definitely use a snack,” Nick said. “How about it, hm?”

It took a while, but Ben finally nodded, and with some more nudging, he shifted his grip from Nick’s coat to his hand.

“Not gonna leave, okay?” Nick reassured.

Clearly, it wasn’t working all that much because Ben continued to hold on tight enough that Nick’s knuckles ached. Ramona led them into a room furnished simply with a couch, chairs, a low table, and a wall of toys. She retrieved a couple of water bottles from a cabinet and a sandwich wrapped in plastic. She added a bag of chocolate candies, too, before gesturing for Leon to follow.

★

“What happened?” Leon asked as he closed the door behind him. Ramona’s desk was in the same state of whirlwind as everything else in the office. It looked like they were moving locations.

“No. First, tell me how you know Ben.”

“Fair.” Leon took a seat once Ramona cleared the boxes off it, and waited for her to take hers, but she remained leaning against her desk, looming over him. “Ben’s basically Abby’s best friend. He’s over at her place at least three times a week for dinner and sleepovers.”

“What does Weber think about it?”

“We’ve all been worried about Ben, if that’s what you’re asking. It doesn’t seem like his parents are around all that much.”

“Who’s we?”

Leon gave a smile and described their little family, focusing on relations and jobs as he expected would be of interest to Ramona—Jeff’s construction company, Nick’s writing, then about Sara and him teaching at the high school and middle school, Amber and Daniel at the elementary.

“Wait,” Ramona said. “I’ve heard of Dr. Wu. He doesn’t have an active practice, but he came in a few times to consult when our psychologist was on leave.”

“He prefers teaching.”

“Didn’t know he and Jeff had gotten married. Jeff hasn’t really been keeping in touch after—” She sighed and gestured vaguely. “Not that we were close in high school.”

“I get it. And I know all about Lauren. Abby’s well-adjusted, if you’re wondering. She has good parents. So, when she started dragging Ben home with her, Daniel’s alarms went off. But other than absentee parents, he hasn’t found any red flags. Still, here we are. We must’ve missed something.”

Ramona pinched the bridge of her nose, huffing. “I shouldn’t be telling you anything.”

“If it helps, both my sister and I are registered as foster parents. If Ben has nowhere to go, he has us, and he knows us. Go on, check the system,” he added when Ramona gave him a long look.

She went around the desk to her computer and clicked and tapped at the keyboard for a while. “You should both schedule an evaluation; your living situations have changed.”

“Yeah,” Leon agreed. “I wanted to settle in before doing that. Time flies, doesn’t it? And Sara’s trying to have a child with Amber, so I guess it wasn’t a priority.”

Ramona hummed with understanding, leaning back into her chair.

“Ben’s parents were fostering him,” she said after a long pause. “His biological father was never named, and the mother passed away when he was an infant. The only relatives left were the mother’s cousin and his wife. They were raising him.”

Were. Leon didn’t like where this was going.

“We didn’t know; otherwise, I think Daniel would’ve come by already.”

“Well, Ben was taken in at a very young age. He was aware they weren’t his biological parents, but it was the status quo for him. From our talks, it seemed he didn’t think the situation was something worth sharing. Whoever taught him that families were diverse did him a service.”

“Daniel, probably. He was Ben’s teacher for a couple of years.”

Ramona hummed again. “In any case, the foster parents never went through with the adoption, but they offered enough stability. I know, I know—they were not so involved or paying much attention to Ben, but he was better off with them for the time being. I weighed the options, even interviewed Ben at regular times. Sometimes, a slightly shitty situation is better than a fully shitty one.”

“True,” Leon acquiesced.

“I have to say, I wasn’t all that surprised they gave up on him.”

“Why would they do that?”

“New job across the country. They felt like it was too much of a hassle to take a child with them.”

“Their words?”

“Almost.” Ramona picked up and promptly smacked her pen onto the desk. “They packed him a suitcase and dumped him here, then just left. I’m so angry, I could scream if I had the luxury of taking a break. As you’ve seen, we’re moving office. It’s chaos, nothing is in place. And to top it all, our group homes are closed.”

Leon made a questioning sound.

“We received a big grant, enough to change location and renovate the group homes. Since we didn’t have that many children, we moved them all to a temporary place so we could start working on the others. Something about budgeting and contracts having to start before the end of the fiscal year; please don’t ask. But now I’ve got Ben and no way to take care of him because that temporary house is at capacity.”

“You do have an option,” Leon offered. “In an environment familiar to him too.”

Ramona chewed on her lip. “It’s irregular.” But they both knew, after Ben had glued himself to Nick like he had, that this would be safer for his mental state.

“I’ll call Daniel,” Leon said. “He can give you his assessment of Ben.”

A smile finally graced her stern face. “That would work. But I’d want daily updates.”

“Doable.”

“And only for a few weeks until we can get him sorted.”

“Of course.”

★

As soon as Nick sat on the couch, Ben grabbed his arm with both of his, hugging himself around it. At least Nick had managed to remove his coat before that.

“Hey, Benny-Ben-Ben,” he said and, as carefully as possible, pushed the hair out of the boy’s eyes with his free hand. “Wanna talk about it?”

But Ben didn’t answer. Instead, he kept his gaze firmly on the floor, a frown wrinkling his forehead so deeply Nick’s own head was starting to ache in sympathy.

“Okay. We’ll just sit here a bit.”

A bit turned into half an hour, in which time Nick had received a text from Leon explaining in short that Ben had been practically abandoned and that Daniel would arrive soon. Nick felt for the little boy, probably understood better than the others. His own father had been scarcely home while Nick was growing up, and as soon as he’d realized Nick would be fine across the street with Lauren and Jeff’s grandmother, he’d stopped coming home for days at a time. Later on, Nick discovered he’d set up an allowance for Grams to feed him and care for him. His old man had loved Nick in his own way, he was sure, just not in the way Nick needed. It left an unsoothable ache. Which probably contributed to him taking Lauren’s death so badly. Some people were simply unfit for parenthood. He just wished they’d face up to that before committing to having children.

When Ramona returned, she was alone, but Leon and Daniel were waiting outside in the hallway, watching through the clear windows. She eyed the untouched food on the table, a question in her expression, and Nick shook his head.

“Ben, I have to ask you something. Do you think you can look at me? Do you remember my name?” she nudged when Ben didn’t reply.

“Riri?”

Ramona let out an unimpressed half sigh, mostly directed at Nick. “Sure.”

“Funny name.” Ben finally looked up, albeit through his eyelashes.

“It is. Nicky here gave it to me.”

Nick shrugged, a little more than unrepentant.

“Why?” Ben asked.

“Well,” Nick explained, “when we were in high school, we were sworn enemies. Riri was a mathlete, and I was in the drama club. We competed for a trophy one time; I don’t really remember which. I just know the battle was epic. Lasted for years.”

“Most creative student,” Ramona supplied, amusement in her voice.

“You see,” Nick continued, “my mistake was that I yelled, out loud in the cafeteria so half the school heard me, that there was no way a math person could be creative, and she took it personally.”

Ben turned to him at that. “But Leon’s a math teacher! And he explains everything so nice.”

“Better than Daniel?”

“Well…sometimes?” Ben said with a wince.

“Clearly, I saw the error of my ways,” Nick acknowledged, and apparently it was enough for Ben, who nodded once. “After my blunder—or better said, declaration of war—Riri got me back. For two years, everyone called me Minny.”

“How so?”

“’Cause my full name is Domenico, and a variation of it is Dominic, and the end of that one sounds a lot like Minny.”

Ramona’s snort echoed in the room, although she had a hand over her mouth.

Ben rolled his eyes and sensibly concluded, “Nick sounds way better.”

After that, they got him to eat part of the sandwich, drink half the bottle, and Ramona grilled him ever so gently on whether or not he’d be comfortable living with Leon for a while and spending the holidays with Abby and the rest of her family.

“Leon will take care of you over your vacation,” Ramona said. “When school starts again, we’ll find you a nice place, okay?”

Ben agreed with a small “Okay,” and then, just as quietly, “Abby’s dads won’t mind? And Leon will take me?”

“Psh. Leon’s there all the time. Yesterday, he helped Abby’s dad with a secret gift project.” Ben blinked and Nick hummed. “Mhmm, they took the entire day.”

It didn’t take long to convince Ben that he was welcome, and then Ramona made sure he understood how temporary his living arrangements were.

“But you’ll be there, too, right?” he asked Nick right at the end.

And Nick, against common sense, promised yes, then proceeded to internally panic over not knowing how to deal with a child, let alone a freshly hurt one.

★

“Beeeen!” Abby yelled and flung herself at him as soon as they stepped inside.

Someone must’ve told her what to expect. Daniel had mentioned them finding Ben’s house closed up with a For Sale sign in the window, then the long drive home with an inconsolable Abby.

Leon set Ben’s suitcase down, then wrapped an arm around Nick who looked a little freaked out. He waited, and waited, and—

“Are those actual couches? Two of them? Human-sized? Leon, am I hallucinating?”

“Surprise,” Leon said.

Nick’s gaze flickered in quick succession between the room and Leon before he pointed a finger. “Is this what Jeff needed you for yesterday?”

“Yep. Sara and I helped. Do you like it?”

“It’s amazing. My back, and butt, and knees thank you deeply.”

“Speaking of your butt—”

Nick kissed him to shut him up, but Leon didn’t mind. “So all I have to do to get a kiss is say butt?”

“Aww,” Amber said as she passed them still standing next to the entrance. “Cut it out with the butts.”

Thankfully for them, Abby had already squirreled Ben upstairs as she usually did, and Daniel had declared it best to let them go; Ben needed a break from adults. Interestingly enough, Ben didn’t seem as attached to Nick anymore, so it was probably a matter of the wrong place, wrong time. No, actually the right place, right time. Nick dared not wonder what would’ve happened if they hadn’t been there.

The kids only came back down when Jeff called dinner, each wearing one of Abby’s Wednesday dresses. A sign, Leon reckoned, that Ben probably didn’t know where he belonged anymore and was grabbing on to something familiar. With something he knew already worked for Abby, in a space he’d previously been met with care.

“Should we let him stay overnight?” Leon asked Daniel as they washed the dishes. On the other side of the room, Amber was supervising a chess match between Abby and Ben, while Nick kept poking at the new furniture.

“He’s had sleepovers here before,” Daniel mused. “It might be better than a strange new place. Do you even have a room ready for him?”

“No, but the second bedroom has a bed.”

“And a lot of boxes?”

Leon shrugged sheepishly. “I’ll take care of it tomorrow. Didn’t really think beyond seeing that boy in distress.”

“I’ll bring down the sleeping bags.” Daniel clapped him on the shoulder.

“Nope. The sofas pull out. Both of them.”

Daniel laughed while Leon rolled on his heels.

★

Ben spent the first half of Saturday at Jeff’s, bonding with Abby over her new game. Ramona stopped by in the morning and got roped into staying for breakfast. Abby and Ben got to call her Riri, to her immense displeasure and Jeff’s eternal amusement.

When Leon and Sara left, she joined them to check out Leon’s apartment. He’d gotten the two-bedroom for a reasonable price because the owner used to be a teacher like himself. It wasn’t very big, so more than three people around at a time would be too much, but it was clean and warm and quiet. Ramona decided it was suitable, or at least it would be after the second bedroom looked more like a room and less like storage space.

Leon got Sara to help him with the few remaining boxes left over from his move, shifting them into his own bedroom to be dealt with after the holidays. They dusted and cleaned and aired the guest room out. The bed there was too big to borrow some kid-friendly sheets from Jeff, but Amber had a set with a forest print, and she donated it. She also brought a bunch of the children’s books they had at home, and Leon stacked them on one of the shelves so the room wouldn’t be completely empty. It would need a desk, but it already had a dresser and a tall wardrobe. Monday, he’d take care of other shopping, putting aside his loathing of preholiday crowds.

He and Nick brought Ben over in the afternoon. As expected, Ben wasn’t impressed by the room, nor the rest of the apartment. He did explore it, albeit shyly, so Leon figured it was the novelty and strangeness of it all more than Ben being uncomfortable.

Leon was tiredly satisfied by the time they crawled into bed. He plastered himself over Nick, as usual, receiving a distracted kiss to the top of his head.

“It’ll be okay,” he soothed, listening to the thrum of Nick’s heartbeat under his ear. “Even if it turns out temporary, this is a good opportunity to see how awesome having a kid would be, don’t you think?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

Nick’s mind was still apparently somewhere else, so Leon let himself drift as well. He pictured their future house, Ben doing his homework in the living room, fighting with Nick over who’s Dad and who’s Pop, even Ben in college—a suddenly realistic, exciting prospect.

★

December 20th marked a sunny Sunday morning. Outside, the town spread white, snow sparkling. It was probably very cold, Nick figured, as he stretched by the window. Behind him, Leon was still asleep, hugging both pillows to himself. He poked at Leon’s cheek on his way out of the bedroom, and immediately froze when something clattered in the kitchen.

It was barely nine, so he wasn’t expecting Ben to be awake yet, but there he was. Various items were strewn over the counter, the stove lit, and the largest knife Leon owned in Ben’s small hand as he kneeled on a chair. The cutting board full of peppers in front of him was the biggest clue as to what Ben was attempting. That, and the eggshells in a heap, actual eggs mixed in a bowl, and two of the pans sitting thankfully not on the lit burner.

“Oh,” Ben said. “It’s not ready yet.”

“It’s not ready.”

Ben bit his lip, nodding. “And I didn’t know how to turn on the coffee machine. Sorry.”

Nick would’ve liked to say he reacted quickly, but he stood there, blinking stupidly at the big blade and the little fingers and—

He rushed ahead to carefully pluck the knife out of Ben’s hand.

“Are you trying to make breakfast?”

“Yeah?” Ben sounded confused. Nick surely was.

“Is that something you usually do?”

“Yeah?”

“Alone?”

“Duh! But it’s harder here ’cause there’s no ladder, and I can’t reach high up.”

The knife in Nick’s hand must have teleported somehow because, for a moment, Nick felt as if something sharp had cut into his chest from the inside.

“Kiddo, you’re only nine—”

“Ten and a month,” Ben corrected.

“We don’t cook without adult supervision around here. You could get hurt.”

Ben’s face fell little by little until he raised wide eyes at Nick. “But then what will I eat?”

That thing clawing at Nick’s lungs? It was anger. Definitely anger. He inhaled slowly though his nose.

“We’ll cook together, how about that?”

Instead of an answer, Nick got a half-suspicious look, but then Ben gave a quiet “Okay.”

“Okay,” Nick repeated. “So what are we making?”

“Eggs with red peppers, but we gotta cook the peppers first ’cause otherwise the eggs burn and they don’t taste good.”

“Got it,” Nick said and dragged the cutting board away from Ben. Surprisingly, the kid had done a pretty good job on the dicing and slicing.

Ben kept close to Nick as he moved around, mostly giving instructions and providing reasons as to why things had to be done one way and not the other. Nick made him some chamomile tea, some coffee for him and Leon, and when Ben’s omelet was done, he pulled out some scones he’d stashed in the cupboard the other day. A little butter and apricot jam had Ben grinning by the time Leon trudged in, yawning and scratching at his chest.

★

“He was expected to make his own meals!” Nick snapped, pacing on the upper terrace of Jeff’s home. He kept his voice down, so as not to be heard by the kids, but that didn’t mean he had to hide his increasing anger anymore.

After lunch, they’d arrived at the conclusion that Ben was extremely bored at Leon’s, not having even one game to play, so they’d shuffled themselves back to Jeff’s where Abby had been whining over wanting to see her best friend anyway. Now, the kids were assisting in decorating the tree downstairs with Sara, Daniel, and Jeff.

Leon caught his hand as Nick passed by the deck chair he sat on. Amber stared grimly over the horizon, fingers tapping over the armrests of hers. With a huff, Nick dropped down next to Leon.

“We’ll make sure he never has to do that again,” Amber said.

Nick swore. And then swore again, for good measure.

★

After dinner, kids tucked in and house quiet, Nick leaned back against the pillows on the pullout sofa downstairs. At least they weren’t sleeping on the floor anymore, a thought he told Daniel as he carried blankets over. Daniel dropped his load and sat next to Nick with a sigh.

“Do these couches seem familiar to you?” Daniel asked.

“Really?”

“What.”

Nick shook his head. “Remember when we dug that old magazine out of Jeff’s recycling bin and started making plans for furniture? We went to that farm for horseback riding. Jeff fell asleep all over the couch, and we had nowhere soft to sit? It was before he got those crappy pillows.”

“We were joking,” Daniel countered with a frown.

“Jeff didn’t think so.”

“But I liked our couch.”

Nick waved to the side. “That’s why it’s still here.” It must have taken a lot of maneuvering to arrange everything so that the shabby old thing could stay. It was more of a loveseat than an actual sofa, but both Jeff and Daniel were quite attached to it.

Daniel smiled, shaking his head a little. “I’m never climbing on a horse again.”

“Hear, hear.”

“Someone say horses?” Leon smelled toothpaste minty as he dove in between them, right over the blanket heap. “Ow.”

“This thing with Ben worries me,” Daniel said. “I’m sure you’ve made plans for yourselves other than what we agreed on, but I talked to Jeff, and we’d like you to reconsider. Have Ben over here more often. Letting him interact with Abby and observing her in a home environment might be a teach-by-example opportunity, to show him families can be different than what he’s had so far. Whenever he was here for dinner, he always offered to do the dishes after, and I thought he’d just been raised polite, but apparently, that was not the case.” He let out a frustrated noise.

“Nobody saw it,” Leon said. “We’ll come. Tell us when.”

Daniel gave him a look that said at least he should’ve seen it, but nodded. “Good. Tomorrow, Amber and Sara are taking Abby for some last-minute present shopping and—”

“Presents!” Nick almost yelped.

“—we don’t have any for him, and maybe he’d want to get something for us,” Daniel continued, ignoring the outburst.

“We don’t even have a tree,” Leon added.

“There’s a tree here, and if you’re not buying a plastic one, don’t buy one at all. It’s bad practice to murder innocent little trees for one week a year when the world’s forests are being slaughtered left and right.”

It came with one of Daniel’s rare glares, and Leon raised his hands. Their tree was artificial, and while plastic was a serious pollutant, this tree could be used for many years to come, saving living ones.

With a huff, Daniel crossed his arms. But when he addressed Leon again, he was a lot gentler.

“We have some traditions we honor at the end of the year, as you already know. We liked how the apple carving went last year, so we’re going to do that and give them as presents to each other on the eve. And we’re making the Chinese dumplings tomorrow afternoon. We were going to bake the Weber chocolate cake Tuesday”—Daniel grinned—“just me and Jeff and Abby, but I think everyone should come. It will give the kids an opportunity to participate together. We also make paper flowers together, which is something my parents and I used to do.

“As for the days after Christmas, we haven’t really planned anything, other than marathoning some sappy movies for Amber. So I was going to ask, Leon, do you and Sara have anything special you like to do around this time? Some family traditions? Or perhaps your parents would like to visit? If so, we could pull together to get them plane tickets.”

Leon wiggled until he was on his back, legs crossed over the blankets.

“We’re going to videocall them Christmas evening. They’re in Johannesburg right now.”

“What are they doing there?”

“So, you know we were born in France, and then Mom got some jobs and ended up moving us about. She’s an anthropologist, but most of her career was spent teaching because it provided more stability for us. So, a couple of years ago, she decided she was sick of it and went off to actually practice anthropology. Her plan was to traverse the entire African continent, starting from the south. Dad, who’s a historian, dropped everything to join her. They’ve been enjoying themselves so much, even if they haven’t left South Africa yet.”

Daniel nodded, smiling.

“Anyway, the reason why they’re there is connected to your question. Mom’s ancestors ended up in France sometime in the twelfth century. Dad’s around late eighteenth, he’s not sure, possibly moving from Austria. A lot of records were lost, so were traditions, until nobody on their sides of the family knew exactly where they originated. After generations, they’re firmly French. Mom is still on the fence with anything that’s not solstice-related. Dad, though, believes in the diversity of humanity, as he likes to call it, so every year he digs out some obscure thing to try. Our traditions are more about learning about traditions.”

“Huh. Okay, let’s choose a country. Learn something together.”

Leon tried to sit up but lost his balance and flailed instead.

“How about—Sweden?”

At that, Daniel raised an eyebrow. “I’m Swedish by nurture.”

“You don’t say.”

“Mm-hmm. There’s a pastry we can make—a saffron bun. It’s good.”

“Let’s do that.”

Daniel wandered off more pleased than when he’d come by, and Nick was left with Leon in the low light of the fire.

“You knew about Sweden,” Nick said.

“Yeah,” Leon confirmed with a grin. “Sara and I were going to surprise him with something; we hadn’t decided what yet, but we might as well. I’ll tell her tomorrow.”

“What about me?”

“Your last name sounds Italian, so I was going to serenade you with ‘That’s Amore.’”

Nick play-scowled at him, though he couldn’t hold it for long in the face of Leon’s mirth.

The warmth that was Leon expanded and contracted around Nick, leaving his chest tight with affection. He pressed a kiss on Leon’s forehead before starting in on untangling him from the blankets.

★

On Monday morning, Nick woke suddenly and with an odd sensation of being watched. Leon had a tight grip on him, arms and legs alike, half beneath Nick, half on top. Nick had seen a pastry twisted like that once.

A series of crunching sounds got him blinking until his eyes focused on the other sofa where Abby and Ben sat, the container of cookies open between them. Nick grunted.

“Are all adults this funny when they sleep over?” Ben asked.

“Nope. Daddy and Daniel are like princes. Caught in a spell, forever pretty, waiting for their true love to come wake them. Too bad they’re each other’s true love,” Abby said, dark passion in her voice.

“No, no. Too early,” Leon complained.

With great effort, Nick managed to fish his phone out from under the pillow. The clock showed one minute to eight, which meant— The alarm blared.

Leon let out an eloquent “aaaah” at the sound, but Nick managed to fumble with turning it off so much that the phone dropped on his face. Giggles traveled the expanse of the room. At least someone was having fun.

Jeff made them pancakes and coffee, and whipped out a delicious frittata from the oven just in time for Amber and Sara’s arrival. After that, it was shopping for them and the kids. Nick and Leon searched for a desk and other necessities for Ben, as well as extra presents.

They were returning to the car with newly acquired pillows and blankets when they passed by a familiar shop, and Nick came to a halt.

“Wait,” he called after Leon.

“What’s this?” Leon looked up and up into the windows filled with costumes, witch hats, fake cobwebs, and an impressive statue of Lurch.

“Treasure,” Nick grinned. “They have Wednesday costumes here. And I couldn’t find any toys in Ben’s suitcase. Did you unpack them?”

Leon frowned. “I thought you did. Wait. School supplies. Come on! What kind of assholes…”

“You know what? I’m not even going to get mad anymore. I’m gonna spoil him a little instead. Let’s drop these off and come back?”

“Good idea. But, Nick, he’s not Abby. Let’s get him some non-spoopy ones, too, hm?”

Nick shrugged sheepishly. “I didn’t think that far ahead.”

Ben, when presented with the new dresses, was delighted. The toys went into the present pile.

★

In the afternoon, they made dumplings together as they’d done the winter prior, only this time, Ben was there. In the midst of laughter, instructions, and chattering, Nick tracked back mentally while they worked, cataloguing differences between then and now, the steps he’d taken forward. Then, Leon and he were fresh and new. Now, they were caring for a child, Leon’s excitement over it exuberant.

By the end of the day, Nick managed to have a quiet talk to Lauren’s memory out by the trees, and he felt better for it.

★

Tuesday unraveled much in the same way. More shopping, for groceries that time, and a meeting with Ramona over lunch at which Abby joined Ben. They’d gone into the detailed story of the tragic princes caught in a sleeping curse. Sadly, they could only be saved by each other. Until, however, their secret daughter knight and her loyal knight friend puzzled their way into the enchanted castle and woke them through the power of daughterly love. Or siccing a cat on them. Leon was shaky on the details.

In the afternoon, Jeff and Nick, assisted by Abby and Ben, made the chocolate cake of their childhood, the same one Daniel had used to propose to Jeff last winter. It looked like a melting lump but tasted good enough for everyone to have seconds and then thirds. It was a quiet evening in, sharing stories by the twinkling tree lights while the wind howled outside. Leon loved every bit of it.

With dinner tucked in hungry bellies, they lazed about, a cartoon playing in the background. At some point, Leon wandered over to where Ben was studying Daniel’s snow globes on the shelf beneath the windows.

“Do you like snow globes, Ben?”

“Uh-huh. Abby said Daniel got them when he traveled. He’s seen a lot of places.” The awe in his voice was obvious.

“Would you like to do that someday?”

A sharp nod. “Can’t wait to grow up so I can go.”

Leon caught himself in time before he said something stupid, like… “Oh, your parents could take you.” Because they could have, and they didn’t, did they? By the look on Ben’s face, the kid knew it.

“We went to Austria last year, right? And we’ll go to Washington in the spring.”

“But what if my new parents won’t let me?”

Leon rubbed at Ben’s arm, mentally checking his savings. “We’ll ask them together, okay? I’m sure they’ll understand.”

Or, if Leon had his way, Ben would stay with them. For now, he had to wait, so he turned back to the snow globes.

“Didn’t you get one of these in Austria to take home?”

“Yeah, but—” Ben scratched his head and shrugged a shoulder. “It wasn’t in the suitcase.”

Leon took a deep breath. “Did you know these are also called snowstorms?” he said instead.

“How so?”

“Because”—Leon picked one up and shook it—“when you do this, it looks like a snowstorm.”

Ben let out a laugh, too small for Leon’s liking, but at least he was distracted from his missing toy.

As soon as he got away, Leon placed a call to his cousin. “Hey, Hanna. Still in Austria? I need a favor.”

With priority shipping, it wouldn’t arrive by Christmas, but Leon hoped late was better than never to replace the lost keepsake of a good memory.

★

Sometime after the kids got tucked in, Jeff took Nick aside and they stayed away for a while. Approaching midnight, Leon tracked Nick to the back porch, hugging his coat closer, though his feet were in slippers, and he had to be really cold.

“What happened?”

Nick shrugged and shook himself. “Jeff has this idea about building more houses there”—he pointed to the side—“and then farther down the road again. So we’d be close by.”

He spoke in a monotone, and Leon couldn’t tell how he’d received the proposal.

“And?”

Nick didn’t react right away, and when he did, it wasn’t an answer. Instead, he shuffled closer for a hug Leon returned.

“It’s nice of him,” Nick finally said.

But Leon couldn’t see his face, couldn’t gauge what he was really thinking; that lifeless comment hidden by the hug was too neutral to mean anything other than Nick not wanting to answer. And it stung a lot that he hadn’t said it to Leon’s face.

★

Nick hadn’t been able to sleep. He’d lain awake almost the entire night, dozing on and off, with Leon a little less snuggly than usual. He blamed the bombshell Jeff had dropped on him. A house. For Nick and Leon and their future children, perhaps even Ben since he was already like family. The entire idea sat like a dead weight in his stomach, and he hadn’t yet found the words to articulate why.

A troublesome thought, but Nick didn’t have much time to linger over it. Since they’d been meaning to try out a couple of new recipes over the vacation, and Nick’s kitchen was larger, they ended up spending the next day at his apartment. Ben was rather interested and a lot helpful, staying away from the knives and the stove, and not even slipping in one bit of shell when cracking eggs.

The result wasn’t elaborate, but they’d made everything from scratch, and Ben looked extremely pleased by all of it.

In the post-food daze, Nick checked some straggler work emails, Leon graded math-filled assignments, and Ben investigated Nick’s DVD animation collection. With Nick’s approval, Ben started a stack of what he wanted to watch but soon reached the limits of his height. The DVDs sat on one side of the bookshelves, occupying the upper half, and even for Nick, access to the upper levels, near the ceiling, required the rolling ladder secured to the bar running along the entire bookcase.

He heard it roll, heard Ben’s awed sound, a snap, and then—

Thud.

And, “Ow!”

Nick was over there in an instant, Leon hot on his trail, to kneel beside Ben. Lying on the floor, on his back, a foot over the lower rung. Leon helped Ben up, then inspected the tear in his sweatpants, and underneath—

Blood.

Nick froze, eyes skittering over the ladder, to where the second rung hung at an angle. He knew it had been loose. Knew it would break. Yet, he hadn’t fixed it because he usually skipped over it. But for Ben’s short reach, that wasn’t possible.

It was Nick’s home, his ladder, his oversight, and his fault that Ben had gotten hurt.

“Nick! Babe! Antiseptic and Band-Aids.”

For a moment, Leon’s words didn’t make sense. Band-Aids? They needed to go to the hospital.

“It’s a scratch. Hospital’s not needed.”

When Nick returned with the first aid kit, Leon was closely inspecting the scrape, lighting the area with his phone’s flash. It…didn’t actually look as bad as Nick had thought. He’d had worse boo-boos when he’d been Ben’s age.

Still. It didn’t erase the fact that it was his fault. He wasn’t really suited to take care of a kid, was he?

Later, when they turned one of the chosen cartoons on, Nick was baffled by Ben snuggling into his side on the couch. How could he trust Nick after this? How would Jeff trust him with Abby?

He pulled his laptop closer and searched: how to protect your child at home?

★

With a sigh, Leon put away the papers. Half done, half for another day. He loathed assigning homework, so he usually didn’t. But when some of his students surprised him by requesting something extra to flex their teenager brains with, he’d given them a set of quirky problems. Optional and whatnot. To his doubling wonder, the kids had turned in more creative solutions than anticipated. It made him proud, but also a little annoyed. Proud though.

He looked up. Ben was watching something, completely engrossed in the story, but Nick was nowhere in sight. Leon called for him; Ben shrugged when asked of his whereabouts. The apartment wasn’t that big, and Leon almost walked into Nick as he rummaged through the hallway closet.

“What are you doing?” Leon asked, inspecting the items Nick was shucking into a plastic bin. Tape, clothes hangers, rubber bands, string, a cutter.

“Are we building something?”

When he turned around, Nick seemed frazzled. “Do you have any idea how many dangers are inside a house? For children?”

Leon raised an eyebrow.

“Exactly. We need to childproof the apartment.”

“If we had a toddler, sure. But Ben is ten. He knows not to stick his fingers in the outlets or open drawers at random.”

“He got hurt. He was bleeding.”

Leon crouched next to him. “Babe, you scraped yourself in the same spot two weeks ago. He’s fine.”

“Yes, and then I put the stupid piece of wood back and didn’t actually fix it.”

“Nick.”

“I can’t live with a child!”

Leon reached out, but Nick stood up and away, hands shaking. Actually, his entire body was trembling, visible enough that when Nick stumbled into the bathroom, Leon tried to follow. He was stopped by the closed door.

“Do you need anything? Nicky?”

“No,” came a choked reply. “I don’t.”

Leon trudged back to the living room and found Ben still captivated by the movie. Hadn’t heard anything, then. At Ben’s inquisitive look, Leon offered a smile he didn’t feel and a thumbs-up before going back to try to coax Nick out of the bathroom.

Except, when he got there, Nick was talking. Probably on the phone, and Leon turned on his heel as fast as he could, though not before hearing, “This needs to end.”

What the— Where had Leon gone wrong? Perhaps. Perhaps it was salvageable, he told himself, resolutely ignoring the way his throat felt like it wanted to close. So he sat by Ben, patted his head, and watched Lilo and Stitch getting themselves into trouble.

★

On Christmas Eve, Leon woke up alone. Sure, Ben was in the other bedroom, but Nick wasn’t there. When Nick had come out of the bathroom last night, Leon had taken one look at him and recognized this was one of those times he needed his solitude, so he’d taken Ben—plus the pilfered DVDs—to his place.

Leon’s breakfast-assembling skills weren’t as impressive as Nick’s, but he and Ben managed fine with toast and tea and a couple of smiley eggs.

“How are you doing, kiddo?” Leon asked him after he refilled his cup.

Ben shrugged.

“It’s okay to be sad. It’s also okay if you’re not.”

Ben fiddled with his last piece of toast for a while. “I like it better here,” he said quietly, “but.”

“Hm?”

“They left.”

The first tear plopped on his plate before a sob broke free with a shudder to his small frame. Leon rubbed his back carefully, ready to retreat if unwelcome, but Ben propelled himself out of his chair and into Leon’s arms, rattling the table and everything on it. Leon held him until he exhausted himself, soothing as much as he could with gentle words, hoping with all he had that it wouldn’t become a long-lasting trauma for Ben. Perhaps some therapy would be good. He’d look into it as soon as the holidays were over.

★

“Is that some form of mirroring?” Leon asked Daniel.

From where they sat at the kitchen counter, they had a good view of Ben and Abby in matching Wednesday Addams outfits, still carving apples at one of the coffee tables. They were adamant to make one for each adult in their lives, and one for each other. Jeff had built some stands for them to fix the apples to, so their delicate fingers would be protected from sharp slashes. So far, they’d been abiding by the rule of: If the hand is on the apple, the knife isn’t.

“Or he simply likes dresses,” Daniel said. “Or he likes Wednesday. Or he’s pushing our boundaries to see if we break and send him away too. Or he needs comfort, and being Abby-like is safe. Too early to tell anything, except they both look cute.” He lifted his phone and snapped a picture.

Sara lounged on the sofa next to the kids, petting their heads intermittently and talking to them quietly, while upstairs, Jeff wrapped presents. Leon hadn’t seen Nick or Amber around for about an hour, not since they’d both finished their apples.

“Did you have a fight with Nick?” It was Daniel’s turn to ask questions, it seemed.

Leon shook his head. “We’re fine.”

Daniel didn’t look convinced, but didn’t press. So maybe Leon wasn’t imagining things? Nick had shown up with a drawn face that said he probably hadn’t slept, and kept up a certain level of grouchiness that the kids picked up enough for Daniel to have to distract them. Leon sighed and Daniel tapped at the counter.

“Let’s start on those saffron buns.”

“You realize,” Leon said, “that I’m not good at baking. I’m actually bad at baking.”

Daniel smirked. “Jeff,” he called, sufficiently loud enough to be heard on the upper floor, “where’s the flour?”

Not ten seconds later, Jeff thundered down the stairs, closely followed by Nick. Amber, arriving at a more sedate pace, took a look at them and rolled her eyes.

“I’ll finish the presents; you boys play.”

“Thanks a bunch,” Jeff told her before he opened the pan drawer. “So, what are we making?”

Daniel pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it over. Leon leaned against the counter, head in his hand, to watch. Nick seemed off, as if he wasn’t really there, and something gritty crawled up Leon’s spine with every moment Nick’s face remained morose.

★

The saffron buns got supplemented by cinnamon buns—because Ben had asked and Amber had jumped in—so by the time they gathered around the coffee tables on the new, comfortable pillows, Nick’s hands smelled like an entire bakery. Well, not really, but it felt good to have elicited smiles, especially from Ben, whom he’d hurt. Nick pushed back down at the nausea threatening to arise again at the thought.

Amber had made some reasonable points about it not being his fault, both today and last night. She’d cornered him right after he fled the apple carving, a thing or two to say about children soaking up emotions like sponges.

Sure, Ben only got a scrape, nothing to blow up about, but what of next time? What if Nick overslept one morning, and Ben decided again that it would be a good idea to chop peppers? What then?

And Leon. Leon. He’d been so excited by the prospect of a kid and a house and a kid in their house. In which they’d live. Together. In their house with their kid.

Nick couldn’t really fathom disappointing Leon. So he pushed it all aside. He could deal with himself later. For now, these days together were precious, and Nick wouldn’t ruin their mood.

He turned his attention to Abby, who was explaining how to make a paper rose, giving her his best grin. It didn’t even come out forced, he reckoned.

★

Every time Leon saw Nick attempt a smile, and every time it looked more like a grimace than actual joy, the sight stabbed unpleasantly at his rib cage. They needed to talk.

The night, however, was spent with Amber and Sara sleeping on the other new sofa, a second pullout. The space wasn’t exactly suited for two sleeper sofas, but they’d managed to angle them in such a way that both could be used at the same time. Unfortunately, that gave little privacy.

Neither of them really slept. Even though they wrapped around each other as usual, Nick fidgeted constantly against Leon, and only managed to doze off near dawn. Sadly, they had to be up before everyone else woke to get the living room ready for opening presents.

A fun affair, no doubt, with coffee and hot chocolate, leftover buns for breakfast, and a rather concerning number of marshmallows. But laughter filled the house, and Leon focused on that.

Except, Abby kept giving him and Nick surreptitious glances that weren’t all that covert, a crease beginning to form on her forehead. So Leon grabbed his coffee and slipped away, up and out onto the terrace.

Sara found him there, carrying a steaming refill, which Leon grabbed with both hands.

He took a hot, satisfying drink, and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“Great,” he muttered. “Lure me into a false sense of security, why don’t you, with your hot coffee and sisterly concern.” But frankly, he was relieved she’d come after him, and by the look on her face, she knew it.

“What’s going on with you two?” she asked, leaning against him shoulder to shoulder.

“Would you believe me if I said I’m not sure?”

“No.”

Leon snorted and took another gulp to give himself time. “I think he’s breaking up with me.”

A gasp came from the door opening onto the terrace.

“Abby!” Sara said. “It’s not nice to listen in on other people.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“What is it?”

“Daddy wanted to know if salad is enough for lunch or if you wanted something else.”

“Salad’s fine,” Sara told her while Leon nodded along. “Now, go inside; it’s cold.”

Abby ran off, and Leon groaned. “She heard that, didn’t she?”

“I’ll talk to her,” Sara offered.

“Thanks.”

“Oh, I’m not doing you any favors, mister. I just don’t believe the bullshit coming out of you right now. Nick adores you. He’s not breaking up.”

“But then”—Leon gestured helplessly—“what is happening?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

“I overheard him saying ‘this needs to end.’”

“This what? Leon! You know better than to jump to conclusions. It could be something else. The holidays are overwhelming for some people. And after many years of being on his own, it must be hard at times to take all this in. We’ve been in each other’s bubbles for days with little respite; maybe he just needs space.”

Leon set the mug down between his feet and rubbed at his eyes. “A lot’s been happening.”

“Jeff with his houses,” Sara said. “Ben.”

“Me asking about moving in for the twentieth time.”

“Sheesh. Give the guy a break.” It sounded funny, and it was funny enough to pull a small smile out of him. “Tell you what. Amber’s postponing the movies to tomorrow. Today, we’re going to go out, have a little walk”—she swiped a hand toward the snowy forest surrounding them—“and maybe try to build a snowman. Too much time indoors is starting to make all of us antsy.”

Leon wrapped an arm around her and kissed her cheek. “Sounds great.”

“Great.” Sara grinned.

However, the universe at large seemed to be against Leon catching Nick alone, even for a moment. Or maybe Nick was avoiding him, always finding something to do or someone to interact with when Leon neared, which was getting on Leon’s nerves more than a little bit. And halfway through the snowman, when he went to look for Nick, his car was gone. He wanted to tell Sara “I told you so,” but she had disappeared as well.

Agitated and confused, Leon dropped onto the back-porch stairs, thankful that nobody came to bug him for a while.

That night, he slept alone in Jeff and Daniel’s living room, feeling like a coward for turning his phone off but convincing himself that taking a few hours wouldn’t harm anyone. Life wasn’t a movie, patience was often required, and Leon needed to give himself time to not think about anything for a while.

★

Leon woke up to the sound of the front door closing. He didn’t move while Nick removed his boots and coat, nor when he came to sit on the edge of the mattress, back to Leon, shoulders hunched.

“Where were you?” Leon asked.

It came out harsher than he intended, but he couldn’t take it back. Not when Nick jumped at the words. He turned around a bit, not really looking at Leon.

“Had a panic attack. Sara was with me,” Nick added, hurrying to reassure when Leon bolted upright. “I sent you a text, but I guess you didn’t see it.”

“I turned my phone off.” Honestly, it hurt that Nick hadn’t come to him. A lot.

Nick nodded. He took a deep breath, then another. His hands, twisting in the blanket between them, shook, and Leon really, really didn’t want to hear what Nick obviously had to say.

“I’m not ready.”

Years ago, during a summer so hot that the ground in the back yard was cracked under the scorching heat, Leon had gotten a bucketful of water to his face.

“Not ready for moving in, or—or a child.”

The words out of Nick’s mouth were comparable to that sudden coolness in the relief they provided.

Leon swallowed audibly. “So you’re not breaking up with me.” He’d managed to say it, but it came out more like a question than a statement.

Nick’s head snapped up, and Leon got his first good look at him. Too pale, dark circles around his red eyes.

“No. Although, you might want to.”

“Nick—”

“Just—” He paused for another inhale, more of a gasp than a breath. “I don’t know when I’ll be ready. If. Maybe never.”

That metaphorical bucket was back, only this time, it wasn’t that pleasant. Numbness creeped up Leon’s limbs, slow and irrepressible.

“You said you wanted to try having a family again.”

“Yeah, but from wanting to actually doing it, it’s a long way. Knowing me, it might be another five years before then. Are you willing to wait that long?”

Leon meant to say yes. Willed himself to form the word, until the silence grew too long. Nick closed his eyes, bowing his head, and it was suddenly too late.

“I’ll let you think about it,” Nick whispered, though it sounded like he already knew the answer.

★

At breakfast, Abby watched Leon with increasing interest, her narrowed eyes almost making the hairs stand on the back of his neck. Almost. Then did so when he caught Ben staring too.

They settled in to marathon Amber’s movies. This was her tradition, and after everything, it would be rude not to partake, even if Leon wanted to be anywhere else but there.

After all the sweets they’d had, lunch was again light. Somewhere between the food and the fifth bag of popcorn they all shared, Leon had lost track of Abby, and he only realized it when Ben stood next to him with big innocent eyes.

“Can you come up? We wanna show you something.” Ben plucked at his sleeve.

On the screen, something happened to elicit a round of laughter from the room, and Leon took advantage of the opportunity. He’d go be awed by whatever the kids had made—probably a blanket fort since it’d been a prominent feature of the previous movie—and then he’d slip outside, at least for a little bit.

The question Nick had posed proved itself all-consuming. Leon loved Nick, but could he wait for something that might never happen? Was he willing to spend the next twenty years living in separate apartments? What about Ben?

Instead of steering him to Abby’s room, as expected, Ben led him toward Jeff and Daniel’s bedroom. Leon stepped in, mildly curious, just as Abby dashed around him and out.

The door closed.

Leon stared at Nick, and Nick stared back.

Something clicked, almost echoing.

Nick strode over and turned the knob, but the door didn’t budge. “Abby,” he called. “This isn’t funny. Unlock it.”

Rattling resounded outside, reminiscent of banging and flapping.

“Sorry, hrrsht,” Abby said. “We can’t hear you. Hrrsht. The wind is too strong.”

A long woo accompanied her, most likely Ben.

And Sara’s voice, although muffled, then perhaps Daniel’s? Leon took a step closer to the door as well.

“Guys,” Sara said, louder. “There’s a storm, so you’re trapped in there until it passes.” She sounded amused.

Leon grunted just as Nick’s phone pinged. He turned it on, then showed it to Leon. A text from Daniel read: The kids are freaking out about you two. Sit tight for 15 minutes and we’ll let you out.

Nick dropped onto the bed, on his back, and Leon had to reassess everything.

Their conundrum was an actual opportunity. Some time alone to really talk. So he answered Daniel from his own device with: I’ll tell you when.

A smiley and Good luck came back.

Okay, so maybe they needed this, and everyone approved.

“Guess we’re stuck here, huh?” he said as he lay down next to Nick.

Jeff’s duvet had a pattern of triangles intertwining and coming loose, as if they’d been spilling over the cloth since the dawn of time. Cascading, over and over, much like Leon’s thoughts. He had no idea where to begin.

Instead, he lay there, on his side, watching. Waiting. His gaze traced Nick’s features, the long nose, the beginning of wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the ridges of his lips, the hair flopping over his forehead. No stubble, so he’d shaved.

Leon wanted to touch, kiss, devour. He’d been attracted to this man since the first moment he saw him, more than he’d ever been to anyone else. He was a little appalled at himself. Or at least had been in the beginning. Then again, Nick usually let him have whatever he wanted, if he was patient. All Leon had to do was ask and allow Nick the time to process his request, process his reaction to it, determine if it was something he could give.

It always paid off, the waiting.

So why would this time be different? He knew why—because now Nick was truly uncertain.

It hurt in indecipherable ways.

Without meaning to, he ran a knuckle over Nick’s jaw, startling him. Nick rolled on his side, legs drawn up defensively, but at least he was looking at Leon.

“I love you,” Leon said. Sad, even to his ears.

“Why?” Nick asked, so quiet it was almost inaudible. “I’m all kinds of fucked up, so why would you want to put up with me?”

What a loaded question. “Unfair,” Leon muttered. “One of those answers the other.”

Nick rolled his eyes and let his gaze fall on the duvet, away from Leon.

The clock on the nightstand ticked and ticked.

“You’re worth it,” Leon finally said. “The work—you’re worth it.”

There it was, that look that said Nick wanted to believe him but couldn’t quite get himself to.

“You’re always taking care of me,” Nick admitted, “and I appreciate it more than you know. But what are you getting out of this? I can’t give you a family. We don’t even have the same hobbies.”

“Are you serious right now? Babe…” Leon’s eyes stung, and he had to blink it away, swallow back the lump in his throat. He took a shaky breath. “Sure, we don’t have hobbies in common, except we like to sit next to each other, doing our thing. You went hiking with me, hated it, and then did it again anyway. It was your idea. And don’t think I’m looking forward to ice-skating anytime soon, but I’m willing to sacrifice my butt for you.”

Nick snorted softly, maybe a tenth of a laugh. Encouraged, Leon pushed forward.

“I like that we’re willing to try new things for each other. That we’re confident in each other to be honest when we don’t enjoy them. That we’re comfortable and don’t let issues bother us until we explode with frustration. And don’t even start on that needing special care crap. How many days have I been angry at the world, at my body, at having to take the shots?”

“Medication is not a weakness.”

“Damn right it isn’t. But remember the first time we had this talk. I was caught between seeing them as reaffirming and a chore. You sat with me and went through every kind of pill you had to take and how they helped. You didn’t have to do that.”

Leon would probably always recall that day with a vivid sort of clarity. Tucked together in Leon’s bed, close enough to feel their chests move as they breathed. Nick’s voice had started off shaky, but he’d grown more and more assertive as he explained his journey. The medicated part of it anyway.

“You learn better by example.” Nick took Leon’s hand and pressed his lips over his fingertips.

“And you never learn,” Leon chided.

“It’s one of my redeeming features.”

They smiled at each other, falling back into silence. Internally, Leon bristled. He’d been an idiot because, of course, they were both better than this.

“Middle ground,” he said, and Nick blinked at him, eyes wide. “Let’s find some. I know us and I love us and I’m not willing to just give up.”

Something shifted in Nick, visible on his face. He had a serious expression now, one Leon felt matched his own.

“Did you have something in mind?”

“Not yet,” Leon said. “But tell me. What’s bad about moving in together? Explain, ’cause we’re already spending almost all nights at each other’s place. Last time we slept apart before the other day was in October.”

With a sigh, Nick looked away, but otherwise remained as he was. Leon waited once more. Surely, some solution could be found.

“I like,” Nick began. “Hmm.”

“Come on.” Leon pulled at their clasped hands. “Even if it’s stupid.”

Nick worked his jaw before answering. “I like having my own bed. And that sleeping together is a visit and not an expectation. It’s about the option of saying no, I can’t tonight. Sometimes I really need to be alone, in my bed. Not ours, it’s not the same.” He huffed. “Listening to myself out loud—that does sound extremely reasonable, of course. What was I thinking… I’m not a child—”

He made to turn, but Leon caught his chin.

“No, wait,” he said. Of fucking course, it made sense. “We can have separate bedrooms. We’d still have to share the common spaces, but I wouldn’t step foot in your room unless you ask me to.”

Nick’s mouth opened and closed. He frowned, leaning back. “You’d do that.”

“In a heartbeat.”

Slowly, Nick’s expression cleared, revealing a seedling of hope. “What about Ben?”

“You’re not ready. I want kids, but I want them with you. We’ll find another way to help Ben.” And no matter how much Leon’s gut twisted for the boy, he knew he couldn’t do this to Nick. All three would end up unhappy.

It was, as Mom had taught him a long time ago, sometimes better to let go of things than hold on and suffer.

“In the meantime, as an uncle, I can pump Abby full of candy and let Jeff deal with the aftermath.”

As he spoke, Nick’s eyes filled and overflowed. “So then,” he said, voice cracking, “we’ll tell Jeff to build us extra bedrooms?”

“Fuck yeah, babe,” Leon answered, flood gates opening, but unlike Nick, his tears came with an ugly sob, and relief, and the sudden need to blow his nose.

Nick kissed him, and then waited for his gasps to peter out before, like the asshole he was, he leaned over to whisper in Leon’s ear, “I love you too,” restarting the waterworks.

Despite all that, Leon felt good about his decision.

★

Nick was overall worse at consoling Leon than the other way around, but whatever he did seemed to work. Slowly, Leon drifted to sleep, and Nick finally relaxed. He hadn’t handled Ben well. Or actually, he hadn’t handled Leon’s excitement well. As he ran his fingers over Leon’s arm, he promised himself to be less of an idiot.

It was dark outside, and dark in the bedroom, when someone knocked on the door.

“Hope you’re decent in there. I’m coming in,” Sara said.

Next to Nick, Leon woke with a start. “No,” he mumbled. “G’way.”

He made a gesture as if to throw something, so Nick dutifully dragged a pillow where he could grab it. Sara gave them the unimpressed eyebrow after she dodged.

“Shove over,” she said before flopping in between them.

Nick almost got a shoulder to the nose, but Leon wasn’t so lucky, it seemed, because he yelped.

“You locked us in here,” Nick accused.

“First of all, that was Abby. Second, you needed—”

Leon leaned up on an elbow. “And you didn’t give her any ideas.”

“Actually, Jeff and Daniel got together after they were trapped in a long, long snowstorm. Blame them. But I’m willing to take the credit if you two solved your issues.”

Nick locked eyes with Leon, matched his smile, and they both kissed her cheeks. Sara laughed, and it sounded perfect even if he himself was too exhausted to.

“So?” she asked when nothing else followed.

“We’re good,” Leon said.

“Goo—”

“But we have a problem. We can’t take care of Ben, not long-term.”

“We’ll figure it out.” With a sigh, she pushed herself up and patted their sides. “Now get up. Dinner’s waiting.”

★

All through the next two days, every time Nick looked at Ben, he felt a pang of remorse. Perhaps he’d been too hasty, perhaps he could manage caring for the child. But then his eyes would fall on Leon, and he’d be again reminded of how he’d made Leon cry.

In all the time Nick had known Leon, he’d done ninety-nine percent of the crying between them. Leon might sniffle a bit, get teary eyes at certain songs, but that was that. Their brush with miscommunication had changed all that. They’d talked it through, sure. The fact, though, remained that Nick had caused—however inadvertently—Leon to doubt the continuity of their relationship. Nick had hurt him.

So, no. He couldn’t change his mind about this. But he didn’t look forward to breaking the news to Ben either. For now, Daniel suggested they let him enjoy the vacation.

The afternoon of December 29th found Nick on the back stairs accepting a mug of hot chocolate from Jeff as he sat down next to him. It was quiet, for a change, the rest of them having taken the kids to the open-air stage downtown for a winter concert. The city hall choir was apparently very good. Nick didn’t really feel like being in a crowd right now.

“At least three bedrooms,” Nick said. “Two of them must have their own bathrooms. And a dark room. Leon’s been itching to try developing his own film. After he picks up photography. Oh, and a solarium. I’d probably kill every plant—”

A thud marked Jeff’s mug being set down. When the hug came, it was all-encompassing. Jeff had one hand on the back of Nick’s head and squeezed so tight with the other his bones creaked.

Jeff was muttering something, and it took a while for Nick to get it. “You’re staying.”

“Of course I’m staying, idiot. I’m never leaving again. Except for vacations. And business trips.”

“Smartass.” With that, Jeff leaned back, a hand still on the side of Nick’s face.

Nick caught it and brought it to his chest. “I promise. I’m sorry I put you through all this, that you had to fend for yourself and Abby all alone.”

“That’s how many times you’ve apologized now? A hundred?”

Nick rolled his eyes. “Deflect with humor, go ahead.”

Instead of more cheekiness, Jeff hummed and picked his mug back up. He threw one arm around Nick’s shoulders, but Nick stifled that small flicker of hope that Jeff would actually forgive him someday. It didn’t matter.

“Two years.”

“What?”

“Two years,” Jeff repeated, “since you first apologized. What I was trying to say is that you don’t have to anymore. I wanted to wait until our birthday to tell you. But when you didn’t say yes to being here and living close by, I thought, fuck, you’ll leave again. And that chafed way more than you running away. You know, since you returned.”

Nick blinked at him. Jeff kept staring at the trees.

“What I’m saying,” Jeff continued and abruptly stopped. “Why are words so hard?”

And that wrung a half laugh out of Nick. He leaned against Jeff. “It’s okay. Tell me on your birthday.”

Warmth settled in his belly, like after a satiating bowl of soup, the one Grams used to make for them on cold winter mornings.

“Know what I’m in the mood for? Grams’ chicken soup.”

Jeff straightened. “Let’s make it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You and me, like old times. Gah, Lauren wouldn’t shut up over it not tasting right. Too salty, not salty, too much chicken, not enough cream.”

“We never did nail it.”

“Doesn’t mean we have to stop trying.” When he looked over, Jeff had that goofy self-satisfied smile on his face.

They were halfway into the house when Jeff turned to him. “Still up to taking Abby tomorrow?”

Their anniversary. Nick nodded. “If the weather’s good, Leon wants to drive up to Deer Lodge”—he pointed to the eastern mountain in the distance—“have lunch, and then return. If it snows again, we’ll find something to do in town.”

“We can take Ben off your hands the day after.”

“I don’t know if—”

“Already spoke with Leon. Ramona’s gonna come over for lunch. Man, I can’t believe you started all that Riri business again. She’ll find a way to murder you, and I’ll be very sad.”

Nick grinned. “She can try.”

★

After a day up the mountain, even though most of it was spent driving, Nick and Leon decided to lounge in bed for their own anniversary. When evening fell, they went to the park for an hour before making their way over to Amber and Sara’s apartment. Unlike the previous two years since Nick had been back, this time, they planned an actual New Year’s party. Well, extended dinner, at least.

They’d been joking about their almost overlapping anniversaries when Abby piped up. “What about you, Aunt Amber? When’s yours?”

“In August,” Jeff said at the same time as Nick’s “Christmas.”

“Tomorrow.” All eyes turned to Leon.

“No…” Sara said slowly.

“Totally.”

Amber sighed. “Cat’s out of the bag.”

“Cats don’t belong in bags,” Abby added sagely. Amber nodded at her.

“Okay, all right,” Sara said. “We met for the first time three years ago on New Year’s Day in a chat group for a game we were playing. We were kind of enemies?”

Amber shrugged in reply.

“We met again two months later. Different game, different usernames. So, as far as I’m concerned, that first time doesn’t count. Our anniversary is in March.”

“But did you smooch then?” Abby asked, genuine curiosity at the fore.

Jeff raised his hands at that. “Blame your own movies,” he told Amber.

“We didn’t meet each other face-to-face until two years ago,” Sara said.

“Remember when you got stuck with Daddy and Nick at the cabin winter before last?” Amber added. “That was when Sara visited me for the first time.”

Abby looked suitably awed. “But we didn’t see her then.”

“No, she had to leave. We did smooch; I think it was…”

Sara dropped her fork. “No.”

“On New Year’s!” Amber finished, snapping her fingers.

“We didn’t actually get together until, you guessed it, March when you came to visit me,” Sara countered.

“If it’s in March,” Ben piped up, “you can celebrate two things and get two presents.”

“Thank you, Ben!” Sara said, extending her hands to him. “You’re my absolute favorite.”

“Hey,” Leon and Amber said as one, then scoffed at each other.

★

To the delight of both Abby and Ben, who were waiting, phones ready, to snap pictures, all three couples smooched chastely at midnight. The kids conked out soon after the fireworks, tucked in the bedroom Amber and Sara would turn into a nursery. Soon. Leon was excited about being an uncle to a second kid.

He passed by Amber, Jeff, and Daniel in the kitchen, baking cookies at 2 a.m., of all things, to join his boyfriend and sister on the balcony.

“I have a feeling I’ll lose this bet and fall asleep first,” he said, pulling his jacket closer around himself.

Sara snatched his coffee. “No sleep until sunrise.”

“We’re too old for this.”

“This will be our last New Year’s dawn without a child, so I’ll tape my eyelids open if I have to,” she added.

Leon’s eyes widened. “Is Amber—? You said she wasn’t.”

“She’s not pregnant,” Sara confirmed with a sigh. “But we’re frustrated, and she’s sick of trying, so we decided to take a break. We were thinking about Ben.”

“Ah.”

“I know you like the kid,” she told Leon before turning to Nick, “and I know you don’t want that right now. We do. So much, you have no idea. If you’re not opposed, we’d like to take it up with Ramona when their office reopens. Best to move Ben sooner rather than later if he’s not going to stay with you.”

Leon leaned against the bannister, scratching at his chin.

“You might have to get married; you know that.”

“I know. If it keeps the kid safe, I’m doing it.”

“The evil device of the patriarchy machine.”

“Shut up.” Sara shook her head with exasperation, but she was smiling.

“Hey, here’s an idea. If you tentatively ask Amber tonight, and then ask her again with a ring in March, you can have a third thing to argue about when tallying your anniversaries.”

Leon deserved the punch to his arm.

She left them soon enough, and he turned to find Nick quiet and pensive. Leon took the chair next to his, entwined their fingers.

“She took my coffee,” he said with realization.

“She drank mine before you came.”

Leon fell quiet, taking in the moment. “How come you’re not peeved by my sister being all up in our business all the time?

“You’re twins.” Nick shrugged as if that explained everything. Except, it kind of did. “Do you think Ben will agree to it?”

“I think so. He likes them well enough.”

Before Leon could add anything else, his phone chimed, and he pulled it out of his pocket. “They woke up,” he said as he accepted the video call. “Hi, Mom, Dad.”

With a backdrop of sunshine and glittering buildings, Mom’s wide smile met him, and his own face morphed to match at the familiarity.

“Leon, chéri. And Nick. Happy New Year, boys! How are you today? Tonight.”

“Happy.” Leon cleared his voice when it caught and dragged Nick closer. “We’re happy. This one’s for keeps.”

“What?” Dad yelled from somewhere before mashing his face next to Mom’s in the frame. “Finally!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I get to dress my son in the fancy suit he’s always refused.”

“Dad—”

“When’s the big day?”

“Dad,” Leon tried again, looking at Nick for help, but the bastard laughed.

“You don’t get to dangle another son in front of me like that and then take him away. My poor old man heart won’t take it.”

Ah, fuck. Now Nick was definitely wiping at his eyes. Leon rolled off the chair and into the apartment.

“Maybe you should ask Sara about big days,” he snitched. Okay, perhaps he shouldn’t. “She and Amber have been together longer.”

“Leon,” Sara hissed, right before Leon shoved the phone in her face. “Mom! Dad!”

He left them to their distraction and hurried back outside.

There, in the chill air, Nick had his face in his hands, curled up on himself, gasping audibly. Leon crouched in front of him.

“Babe, hey.” When he tried to gentle Nick’s hands out of the way, Nick let him.

“Sorry,” Nick croaked. “It was suddenly—” He waved a little helplessly.

“A lot’s happened in the past few days. It’s okay.” He wiped Nick’s cheeks with his thumbs, cupping his face. “Look, I’m not going to ask you to marry me. Not unless you want to. Okay? You know Dad, he gets carried away.”

Nick caught his wrists. “It’s not that. He’s a father, and it’s been a really long time since I’ve been called son by a father. It’s stupid ’cause he didn’t really mean it, I know.”

“Oh, he definitely meant it. You’d have to take my name though. Or hyphenate. We could theoretically get away without a name change, but that would require—mh.”

Leon pressed back against Nick’s lips. It wasn’t much of a kiss, not until Nick inhaled, shakily, and then really went for Leon’s mouth like a starving man.

When Sara popped up on the balcony with the phone in hand, Leon had the immense honor of flailing out of his boyfriend’s lap while his parents watched from halfway around the world.

★

For the first week back at school, Ben continued to stay with Leon. Since Amber and Sara wanted to take him in on a permanent basis, Ramona had declared it would be better to finalize her and Amber’s evaluations before starting on Ben’s paperwork. That way, Ben would only need to move once.

On Thursday, Leon picked him up from school, and they went to wait for Nick in the small park outside the community center.

“What’s Nick doing in there anyway?” Ben asked, poking through his bag of gingerbread treats.

“He’s helping people heal, like others helped him before.”

“Is he sick?”

Leon fixed Ben’s hat, already in danger of slipping off. “Not anymore. But some illnesses are not so easily overcome and little bits of them linger.”

“Like, if I hurt my leg, it will make a scar?”

“Kinda like that, yeah.”

Ben hummed, attention back on the building across the street. “Can I come with you to wait for him next week? Even if I live with Amber and Sara then?”

Unsure, really, if Nick would be in the mood for interactions with Ben—depending on how today went—Leon opened and then closed his mouth. He couldn’t really promise that.

“Please?”

“Tell you what, let’s ask Nick, okay? He might be tired.”

“I’d be quiet.”

“I know, kiddo,” he said. “But if he can’t on Thursday, I’m sure he’ll want to on another day. All we have to do is ask.”

“Okay. I like Nick.”

“Hey, me too! High five?” With a grin, Ben smacked his palm against Leon’s. “But he’s not ready to be a dad, you understand, right? We’ll still hang out anytime you want.”

Ben’s head bobbed. “I understand.”

The streetlights went on all at once just as the sky darkened a shade. Yet another thing Leon loved about this town. They didn’t wait for nightfall to turn them on. In addition, the trees along the sidewalk flickered with fairy lights wrapped around their branches. It seemed a little magical. The only thing that could make the scenery better would be snowflakes falling lazily.

Nick appeared with a smile on his lips, and Leon stood to kiss it.

“Hey, Ben.”

“Hi.” With that, Ben lifted his bag in offering, and Nick plucked one of the tiny gingerbread squares.

“Thanks,” he told him before turning to Leon. “Guess what arrived today while you were at school.”

Leon gasped and immediately made gimme hands. He’d given Hanna Nick’s address for a reason, which was that Nick worked from home most of the time, so the couriers would be more likely to find him. Because this—this couldn’t wait.

He transferred the small paper bag from Nick to Ben and the gingerbread from Ben to Nick.

Ben’s face was preciously frozen, open-mouthed, for a moment. Then he yelled. And hugged each of them. And yelled some more. Leon whooped, for good measure.

Nick slid an arm around him as they started down the sidewalk, Ben in front, fiddling with his snow globe.

“Home?”

“Yes,” Ben piped up. “Abby said we’re having pie tonight.”

“Not what I meant,” Nick murmured with a chuckle. “But sure.”

Leon pulled him closer by the waist. “Home is with you,” he whispered, satisfied.

They belonged together like snowflakes in a snow globe, caught in a gentle embrace.