Because Quint had disappeared under a cloud of suspicion, the government seized his assets.
Caleb only followed the news to discern two things: how often suspicion fell on him or Aidan or both of them, and whether anyone had noticed the funds he and Laila had diverted. The unfortunate answer to his first concern was very often, but no one could prove anything, and public opinion was more favorable toward Aidan than it had ever been. And as for the second, the amount—more money than Caleb had ever hoped to earn in his life—was so small as to be forgettable, and Laila possessed a skill for financial sleight-of-hand that might as well have been real magic as far as Caleb could tell.
They stayed in the safehouse. It took a week for Caleb to stop thinking Quint almost killed you every time he touched Aidan—and he touched Aidan as much as he could. It was a talisman of some kind, or a ritual, and every time he did it, a little more of his numb shock transformed into relief.
Laila stayed with them most of the time, occasionally leaving to take a call or go to a meeting. Aidan didn’t inquire about her business, probably because all three of them had sidestepped any conversation topics that veered too close to the serious questions of last week, or worse, next week. That worked out well for Caleb. He would have lied to preserve the surprise, but he didn’t have to.
In the second week, both of them grew restless, cooped up and inactive for too long, and finally Caleb ventured, “What if we went out for a walk?”
Sunlight was pouring through the living room window, glinting off Aidan’s dark hair as he turned away from the view of the empty street. “If we’re seen here, it puts the safehouse at risk.”
“We have to be seen at some point,” Caleb said. He’d kept his tablet off the whole time they’d been here, but it was likely full of messages. Authorities had already tracked down his parents, his sister, Miss Tallulah, and many, many friends and exes to ask where he might be. Deb had been on the news saying don’t ask me, he never answers my texts.
“And,” Caleb continued, “I was thinking of somewhere else, anyway.”
“Yeah? Where?”
“The old neighborhood,” Caleb said. Before Aidan could say anything, he added, “People will see us, but we can handle it.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I’m eager to get out of here, too.”
Aidan embraced him and brought them both to the sidewalk in front of the apartment building where they’d once lived. The brownstone itself was unchanged, but there were different curtains hanging in the windows. The one on the ground floor gave them a glimpse of an impressive collection of potted plants.
Orange and brown leaves dotted the sidewalk. If not for the newer cars parked on the street, it could have been a fall day ten years ago.
Caleb wouldn’t have been holding Aidan’s hand back then. He tugged on it. “This way.”
As they walked, Aidan said, “Where do you think you’ll go, after this?”
“Wherever you’re going,” Caleb said. At last, they could talk about the future. They had a future to talk about now, the whole of it—however many unknown days or weeks or years comprised it—untouched by Oswin Lewis Quint. Caleb wasn’t naive enough think the rest of their lives would be free of fear, but they’d closed that particular chapter. Whatever else was out there waiting for them, they’d have each other. He’d never minded getting into trouble, as long as Aidan was there.
Caleb continued, “I hope you’re planning to stay somewhere in the city, because I’m kind of attached to it. I’ve had enough of space, and I still haven’t had coffee with Deb. I can’t believe she took her complaint to the media.”
“You want to live with me?” Aidan asked, ignoring the latter half of what Caleb had said.
“I haven’t been doing a very good job expressing my feelings, if you have to ask,” Caleb said.
“No, no, I don’t doubt that, but… it’s hard for me to get an apartment.”
“I know,” Caleb said. “Me too, now, probably. It doesn’t change how I feel. I want us to live together. And I think I know a place.”
“You do?”
“Yeah,” Caleb said, smiling so hard he had to bite his bottom lip. They’d walked two blocks and were now standing across from a building very much like the one they’d grown up in. He tilted his head toward it. “That one.”
Aidan didn’t understand what he was looking at. A four-story brownstone with a column of bay windows on the left and a rounded arch over its main entrance, but they couldn’t live there. Even aside from his difficulties renting, there was a sign on the stoop that said “sold.”
Oh.
“I wanted the one where we grew up, but it wasn’t available,” Caleb said. “This one was on the market, though.”
“That mean old lady used to live on the ground floor here,” Aidan said. Retreating to the past was easier, since the present was overwhelming.
“Mrs. Litman,” Caleb said, because of course he remembered her name. “Anyway, I was thinking about how much trouble you always have with landlords, and how nobody will rent to runners, and that’s why the Union doesn’t have any kind of headquarters or public address where people can find it. And I know some of it’s because runners are scared to be found out, or to all gather in one place, but you shouldn’t have to be. It’s wrong that anyone would keep you from having that. I want that to change. And I thought, well, what if there wasn’t a landlord?”
It came out so fast that most of it ran together. Then Caleb finished, “So Laila and I took some of Quint’s money and bought a building.”
“I’m getting that,” Aidan said, and Caleb fished a ring of keys out of his pocket and pressed it into Aidan’s hand. “When did you do this?”
“Pretty much from the moment we got into his house. Laila started moving money around while she was waiting for us to come back from interviews, and then it took another couple of weeks to wrap things up. She did all the work. I think she’s technically your trustee now. She was really excited about this. Did you know Laila knows a lot about finance?”
“That is the least surprising part of this,” Aidan said.
“If you don’t want it to be owned in trust, we can change that,” Caleb said as they walked up the stairs to the entrance. “It’s yours.”
Aidan shook his head. “Ours.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Caleb said, and kissed him. “There’s three apartments on the upper floors, and I was thinking we could use the ground floor and the basement for… communal meeting spaces, maybe?”
“Sounds perfect,” Aidan said, sliding the key into the lock. The entryway arched above them. The building wasn’t gigantic—far smaller than Quint’s mansion—but it felt huge, every unfurnished space bright with potential. They walked through, holding hands and marveling at all of it, until they reached the top floor apartment and Aidan had to catch his breath. “This is… so much. It almost doesn’t feel real.”
“What would make it feel real?”
Aidan laughed, then caught sight of Caleb—the line between his brows, the uncertain curve of his mouth—and said, with perfect seriousness, “Is there a bed in there?”
“Yeah,” Caleb said. “I didn’t buy much because I didn’t want to make decisions for you, but I knew you didn’t own any furniture, so I did put a bed in the top-floor apartment.” He paused, embarrassed. “At the time, I wasn’t planning… you know.”
“It’s good that there’s a bed,” Aidan said, still serious. He unlocked the door and let them both in. Morning sun streamed through the windows onto the bare hardwood floors. Aidan bypassed the kitchen and the living room, heading for the promised bed.
It sat alone in the middle of the room, incongruously already made up with sheets and pillows.
Aidan said, “Because if there wasn’t a bed, it would have to be down on the floor or up against the wall.”
“I’m happy to offer you either of those options,” Caleb said, pushing Aidan’s jacket off his shoulders, grabbing the hem of his shirt and stripping it over his head, then setting to work on the fly of his jeans. “But I thought it would be nice if the first time I fucked you was in our bed. In our apartment. That we own.”
It was good that someone he’d known his whole life could still surprise him. It promised good things for the future—and right now. Aidan grinned and kissed him, interrupting his work. “You wanna try it, huh?”
“Just like in the rest of my life, I swing both ways.”
Aidan huffed. “I’m only laughing because you’re obviously so pleased with yourself.”
“Oh, you’ll be pleased with me, too. That’s the whole idea.”
Aidan did laugh then. “The bed’s good, in that case. Gotta break it in. Take your clothes off already.”
Aidan left his jeans and boxers on the floor and perched on the bed. Caleb revealed himself quickly and carelessly, dropping his clothes like he wasn’t the most beautiful person in this or any reality. Even after days of being treated to this—every shower, every change of clothes—the thought of Caleb undressing still turned him on. The sight itself overpowered him. He couldn’t not touch himself. Just a little. Fuck, but that felt good.
“I want you literally all the time,” Aidan said. “In any way you will have me.”
“Good,” Caleb said, and pushed him flat on his back with one hand. “Me too.”
“No accounting for taste,” Aidan joked.
“You shut up about my boyfriend,” Caleb said. He spread Aidan’s legs and knelt between them, caressing the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. “You’re beautiful.”
Aidan shivered as Caleb’s fingers dipped lower. He loved getting fingered and fucked, but had rarely allowed his partners to do it. He trusted Caleb.
Caleb paused to pour lube over his hand. When he touched Aidan again, his movements were gentle but confident.
“You’ve done this before,” Aidan said, surprised again.
The look Caleb shot him made him feel sheepish and guilty, and he braced himself for a joke about his alleged sex spreadsheet. Instead, Caleb said, “Yeah, and I’m good at it, too.”
“Been holding out on me.”
“You’re gonna get it,” Caleb said, and demonstrated by slowly sliding a finger in. Aidan’s entire nervous system lit up with pleasure. He twitched his hips, wanting more.
“I forgot how much I liked this,” Aidan said, his voice weak like he’d been screaming. They’d barely started. One finger was nothing.
Caleb obliged him with another, fondling his balls while he did it. He shifted his attention upward, offering a handful of long, slow strokes to Aidan’s cock that were nowhere near enough. It was impossibly sexy to watch him work, his brown head bent low and all of his focus trained on the steady motion of his hands like he was ready and willing to do this for hours. Caleb hadn’t touched himself yet, and his hard cock bobbed between his thighs, curving upward and dripping, a temptation that Aidan couldn’t reach.
Aidan licked his lips. “I want to ride you. Right now.”
“Well, when you put it that way,” Caleb said, grinning. He took his fingers out, the loss leaving Aidan cool and empty. Caleb flopped down onto the bed, reached for the lube once more, and slicked down his shaft.
Aidan wasted no time in climbing on top of him. Sinking down onto his cock was goddamn glorious. He gasped at the hot, slippery fullness of it, just on the edge of too much, and then levered himself back up and sank down again.
“Fuck,” Caleb said, letting his head drop back to the pillow. He lifted it a moment later, unable to look away. He rested his hands on Aidan’s hips, then Aidan leaned forward to kiss him, sloppy and hard, and his hands slid up Aidan’s chest. “You feel so good. You’re so gorgeous. Don’t stop.”
Caleb’s gaze burned right through him, leaving him lightheaded and happy. Fuck, they could do this every day. Here. Where they lived.
Still pumping his hips, Aidan seized Caleb’s hands. He brought one to his cock and simply held the other. Caleb stroked him, his attention still riveted to the place where their bodies joined, until he closed his eyes. Aidan felt the stutter and release of his orgasm a second later, then Caleb relaxed beneath him, his darkly furred chest rising and falling. Aidan came an instant later, seized with the sweetness of it, heat washing through him and spilling onto Caleb’s hand.
After they separated, Aidan tumbled onto his back, the bed soft beneath him. He squeezed Caleb’s hand again.
“It’s a beautiful place.”
It could have been a windowless basement and Aidan would have loved it, because he’d never had a place of his own ever, and Caleb had found one for both of them. And not just any place, but one Aidan would have chosen for himself, if he’d ever thought he had a choice: the neighborhood where they’d grown up, where they’d gotten to know each other and gotten into trouble, the only place in the multiverse where Aidan had roots.
Even without furniture, it was cozy and full of light. With Caleb beside him, it already felt like home.
They moved in right away. It didn’t take long, since Aidan had never owned anything and Caleb had sold all his furniture when he’d given up his apartment. It was a few days of indoor camping, but Caleb had never been happier.
The first Sunday morning in their new apartment, Caleb walked into the kitchen after a very satisfying lie-in and a long shower and found Laila. He hadn’t seen her since Thursday, when he’d texted her to ask where she was and whether she wanted to be there when he showed Aidan the building, and she’d replied that she’d be back in a few days.
She was sitting at the table drinking coffee and scrolling through her phone. Her pink hair was pulled into a bun on top of her head, exposing the black roots near her ears. She didn’t have any makeup on.
“Morning,” she said. “There’s an empty apartment below this one, did you know that?”
“Yeah,” he said. “There are two empty apartments, actually.”
“No,” she said. “There’s one.”
Aidan walked into the kitchen and stopped beside him, resting a hand on the small of his back. “Uh, good morning, Laila.”
“Laila’s our downstairs neighbor,” Caleb said. “As of right now.”
“Also, Kit’s gonna call us in a sec, everybody up there wants a tour of this place,” Laila said. “I know I’m not officially your stylist anymore, but… maybe put on a shirt?”
“Shit,” Aidan said. When he returned, he was fully dressed and might even have attempted to brush his hair.
The doorbell rang. Caleb went to the intercom. “Hello?”
“Hi, it’s Anna. I would have just jumped in, but I wasn’t sure you were ready for visitors. Can I come up?”
“Look at that,” Aidan said, staring at Laila. “Manners.”
She gave him an unrepentant shrug and continued drinking her coffee.
When Anna came up, she was carrying a fern in a blue ceramic planter, and she wasn’t alone. Deb was with her, a cardboard pastry box in her hand.
“You still owe me coffee,” she said, when he blinked at her in surprise. Once he’d finally braved his phone, he’d texted her an apology and their new address, but hadn’t expected a visit so soon. “Also, a long explanation. But congrats.”
She huffed indignantly and pulled him into a one-armed hug.
“It’s good to see you, Deb.”
“I’m glad you’re still alive after that stunt you pulled,” Deb retorted. She set the box on the kitchen counter and hugged Aidan. “Don’t think you’re getting out of this. You’re just as much at fault.”
“Oh, definitely more,” Aidan said.
“As usual,” Deb said. She pointed at the box of pastries. “That’s a housewarming gift, because I’m a better sibling than either of you.” She kissed Aidan on the cheek. “Congratulations. You’d better visit me now that we live in the same city, or I will show you just how good I’ve gotten at throwing punches.”
“Deb,” Aidan said, catching her by the hand before she let go of him. “I should apologize to you. I stopped Caleb from having coffee with you a couple weeks ago for the same reason I haven’t been in touch these past few years. I was… hiding, more or less. I was worried about endangering people by association. Nothing has really changed on that count—I can’t promise I’m not putting you in danger—but I realized I was only hurting myself and the people I cared about.”
“Wow,” Deb said. “I wasn’t expecting to get sincere before noon. Apology accepted. You know I’d rather have you in my life than not.” She turned to Caleb. “What’s your excuse?”
“Uh,” he said, cringing. “I went to space to rescue Aidan, then got a little busy?”
“Uh-huh,” Deb said. “I heard all about that from the psychic. You’re forgiven, I guess. But why move back to the old neighborhood? Everyone will know where you are.”
“That’s the idea,” Aidan said.
“And I’m hoping fewer reporters will bother you, if we’re out in the open,” Caleb said.
“You could also try not causing any more huge scandals,” Deb suggested, then laughed when they both fell silent. “Oh, I see.”
“We’re trying something different,” Caleb said. “The Union’s been really secretive since its founding, but we thought we’d try having a public face. Maybe it’ll make it easier for young runners to find us when they need to.”
“We?” Deb asked.
“Oh, that was figurative, I’m not—”
“Yeah, he is,” Aidan interrupted. “Caleb’s been with us since the beginning. He helped me recruit our first members. And he was a runner for weeks, so I figure he’s in.”
“That’s great news,” Anna said. “I hope you were serious about making it easier for people to find you, because there are a few more of us coming over.”
“There are?” Caleb said. “But we don’t really have any… furniture. Or food. Or anything.”
Anna waved a hand. “I think we’ve got it covered.”
The Runners’ Union showed up in groups of two and three, sometimes carrying a couch or a table, sometimes loaded down with groceries, and soon their apartment was full to the brim with furnishings and food and people.
They did a couple of rounds of hellos and thank-yous at the party, and then Laila found them in the kitchen by the coffee pot, taking a break.
“Thanks for this,” Aidan said, gesturing at the building. “Caleb told me you did all the work.”
She shrugged. “I live here, too, now. Good luck getting rid of me.”
“Can’t imagine why we’d want to,” Caleb said. “You were brilliant. We like having you around. Let us be grateful.”
“I owe you,” Laila said, glancing from Caleb to Aidan, then down at her bare feet. She set her coffee on the counter and then clamped her arms around Aidan.
“I didn’t think we could do it,” she said into his chest. “I thought it was gonna blow up in our faces the whole time, and there was a long period there where I was just waiting to break it to you as gently as possible. I thought I was gonna have to live the rest of my life with him looming over me, and now I don’t, and that’s thanks to you. I know it didn’t go the way you planned, and it was pretty awful at the end there, but I’m not sorry about any of it. You always believed and you were right. You did it.”
He hugged her back. “Not me, us. Nobody works alone. Everything we do around here is a team effort.”
“You are so fucking corny all the time,” she said, punctuating it with a laugh that was more like a sob. Her voice sank to a reverent whisper. “We lived, Aidan.”
“Yeah,” he said. Aidan looked like he was on the verge of tears. “We did.”
“There hasn’t been very much justice in my life.”
“Mine either,” he said.
She exhaled gustily and then pulled Caleb into the hug. She was soft and smelled like coconut, and she was definitely smearing tears on his shirt. “I’m not supposed to be crying. It’s a party.”
“You don’t have any makeup to mess up, at least,” he offered, and she laughed.
“What’ll be like, do you think? Living here where anybody can look us up?” she asked.
Aidan shrugged. “I don’t know. More good than bad, I think. That’s what I’m hoping. Right now, it feels that way.”
“I’m inclined to believe you,” Laila said. She let go of them and dabbed at her eyes. “Okay, I’m going back out there. See you later.”
“I think you’re right, too,” Caleb said, leaning up against the counter and sidling close enough to kiss Aidan. “About this being more good than bad.”
“I couldn’t have envisioned this without you,” Aidan said. “That stuff Laila just said about not really believing something was possible until she saw it, I feel that way about all of this. It’s amazing. It was only a few weeks ago that I thought I’d be living anonymously in some remote outpost by now. Alone. I’m so, so glad I was wrong about that. I love you.”
“I love you, and I’m glad you were wrong about that, too. Wanna go back out there?”
“Yeah,” Aidan said, and took his hand and led him into the living room. It was crowded and joyful and loud. Not one person was wearing a mask.