Chapter Text
Halloween
NICK
In the chilly night air of the SU carpark, we bid farewell to our friends and colleagues. Charlie’s close, so misty clouds of our exhaled breaths mingle as we thank Priya again for driving. He’s shivering, though he’s wearing a coat, and my arms ache to hold him. Having his arms around me in the van made me realise how starved I am for touch. I know I could get a hug from Imogen, probably Otis, and maybe even James, if I asked, but it’s not the same. If I’m being honest, being that close to the man stirred my deepest desires, but it was more than that. He held me like I’m special, like he sees a part of me that no one else can.
He made me feel cared for.
“Ready?” He tilts his head, smiling, then takes my arm, turning me towards his car. He waves back towards Elle and the others but hurries us along. He drops his hold once we’re moving, and I fight back a whimper.
The door locks click open, and we scurry inside. He starts the engine and checks that the seat warmers are still on from this morning. He swears at the cold but admits it’s really not that bad yet as he’s pulling onto the street. After our deep conversations on the ride home from the symposium, chatting about the mundane feels good, like we’re versatile, like we could talk forever about everything and nothing.
Charlie drives past his street, and I realise he’s dropping me off first. It’s kind of him. He doesn’t want me to walk home from his in the cold. But heaviness settles in my heart. My day with Charlie is almost over, and I don’t want it to be. He pulls the car close to the kerb and shifts into park, then looks over and smiles.
My heart speeds up. I don’t want this to end. His lips part. He’s about to speak, to say goodnight, to say goodbye, but I interrupt. “D-do you want to come in? I could make dinner for us.” His eyes widen. “Since you drove, I mean.” I shrug, attempting casualness.
“Oh… umm…” He blinks rapidly. “I-I should probably go home. I… umm… need to get started marking.” He drops his eyes.
“Yeah, of course.” I fight to keep my voice steady. “Are you returning them on Monday?”
“No, no. Not this Monday.” He clears his throat. “I can only read a few at a time. A-and I’ll be out of town for a few days next week, so…” He shrugs one shoulder.
“I get it.” I force a smile. “I should…” I reach for the door pull, but Charlie grabs my other wrist. I turn to look at him.
“Another time?” he asks, staring into my eyes.
“Okay.” I try to look unaffected. I try to be a fucking adult about him choosing marking papers over spending time with me. I try to remember that just because he’s become the centre of my universe, I am not the centre of his.
✨📖✨
CHARLIE
Goddamnit! Fucking stupid arsehole!
I pull my car into my driveway, still swearing. With the engine off, I bang my fists on the steering wheel and cry out “why”. Why can’t I be normal around him?
I close my eyes, getting lost in the despair of disappointing him. That was the look, right? I didn’t imagine it.
I finally move when I notice the cold creeping in.
Unlocking my front door, I replay the scene from this morning. Nick’s excitement. My excitement. Nick in my kitchen. Nick in my car. Nick. I drop my bag and shrug off my coat, tossing them haphazardly in one chair and flopping down in the other. My mind travels to the ride home in the van. My arms around him when he said yes to a hug. The way he folded himself to fit, resting his head on my shoulder, his forehead against my neck, his arms loosely encircling my waist. It was a bit awkward, seated as we were, and it was shorter than I would like. But the memory of that beautiful man surrendering to my touch lingers. I don’t think it will ever leave. Having Nick in my arms is imprinted on my soul.
Which is why I couldn’t say yes. I can’t be alone with him so soon after that experience. I’m not over it – I may never be over it – and I don’t trust myself. If I’d agreed and followed him into his flat… I don’t know if I can stop myself when no one’s watching.
But his face when I said no. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but… he thinks I rejected him.
I stand up and pull my phone out of my pocket, pacing towards the kitchen.
[Charlie 20:03] Hi Nick, it’s me again. Sorry if I’m bothering you 🫣
[Charlie 20:04] But I remembered something I wanted to ask you. The next cocktail party is Monday night at Nathan’s. I thought maybe you’d need a ride?
I stare at the screen, shuffling from room to room. Sitting room, living room, kitchen. Kitchen, living room, sitting room. Nothing. I stop in the kitchen on my next pass and lay my phone on the counter, face down, to search my fridge for a fizzy water. I scan the shelves. I need to go shopping tomorrow. I open my notes app and start making a list.
He’s not responding. Fuck! I pull out a container of leftover Thai red curry, but I can’t eat. I take the last fizzy water and my phone to the table. One leg is bouncing, and I tap out a rhythm on the table over and over and over, swiping a thumb over my screen between repeats.
After a few minutes, I get up again and plate the curry to go in the microwave. Just as I’m pressing the time, my phone buzzes on the counter.
[Nick 20:18] Yes, thanks! What time on Monday?
Be cool, Spring. I press start on the microwave and walk away, leaving my phone on the counter. I stroll to the front door, looking into the night. My neighbourhood is quiet. It’s cold, and there are no student occupied houses on my street. A fact that keeps the market value up. I’m startled by the microwave’s beep but maintain my position for several minutes before ambling back to the kitchen.
I should restart the microwave, but I pick up my phone instead.
[Charlie 20:26] Hi ☺️ Around 7pm. We can confirm after class.
[Charlie 20:27] Wasn’t sure I’d hear from you tonight. Thought you might be exhausted from the thrills of listening to people read aloud all day. 😂
[Nick 20:28] Today was riveting but I’m hanging in there 😉Just out of the shower, so I have a second wind.
[Nick 20:28] *IMAGE: selfie from mid-chest up with no shirt, wet hair, droplets of water on shoulders, sideways smile, steamy bathroom*
Oh. My. Fucking… Does he know what he just did? My instinct tells me to lean in and tell him he can’t do that without a warning, that I’m a gay man, and now I’m convinced he’s trying to kill me. Once again, I’m fucked because of my position of authority over him. If only I’d met him before August, I’d be considering a different kind of position over him. Or maybe already in one.
I need to acknowledge the sexiest selfie I’ve ever received though (that’s counting when I still had Grindr on my phone).
[Charlie 20:29] Omg! Did you answer my DM before drying off? 😅
Good, Charlie. Acknowledging the facts without being inappropriate.
[Nick 20:29] I had my phone in here 🤷🏼♂️
He’s probably in a towel right now. I’m dying to ask to see more or if it was a long shower. Oh fuck! Abort! Before I get myself in trouble.
[Charlie 20:30] I should let you go so you don’t catch cold 😉 and I need to eat my sad leftovers.
[Nick 20:32] Does that mean you regret not letting me cook for you?
[Charlie 20:32] Yes!
[Nick 20:33] Next time then?
[Charlie 20:33] Definitely!
✨📖✨
NICK
Otis is waiting for me on a bench inside the cafe when I arrive. He stands up to give me a quick side hug and let the host know that we’re ready to be seated. Each table in the small establishment is filled with patrons at various stages of dining, though most are just now ordering, waiting for their food, or have just started their meal. I hurried here after my Thursday seminar but wasn’t fast enough to beat the rush to this tiny, well-loved place. Fortunately, they have a “garden” seating area, which is basically a large walled marquee atop a brick patio with tables and potted plants around the perimeter. I suppose most people think it’s too cold to sit out here, but there are patio heaters and no wind tonight, so Otis and I brave it.
“No party tonight?” Otis scans the menu QR code and grins. He finds it funny that my advisor considers attending parties professional development.
“There is a party tonight, but Youssef let me off the hook. He said since I’ve been to two already, I should have got the idea by now.”
“Won’t your man be there though? I’m flattered that you’re choosing me instead.” He’s laughing when the waiter comes by, and we pause to order drinks.
“He’s in New York,” I say, once the waiter walks away.
“Ahh… I see. I knew I couldn’t compete.” He winks, and I roll my eyes and smile. Otis’ face settles into sincerity. “How’s it going though? Making any progress?”
I look up from perusing the menu’s mains on my phone and place it on the table. I take a deep breath and sigh before answering, “I’m getting mixed signals. He has definitely warmed up to me, and there are moments when I think he maybe likes me back…” My eyes dart towards the approaching waiter, and Otis follows them, glancing over his shoulder.
After our drinks are dropped off and orders taken, Otis picks up where we left off. “But?” He rests his elbows on the table and leans forward.
“But… other times…” I let out another exaggerated sigh as I contemplate where to start. “I invited him in the other night – he was dropping me off. After the symposium on Saturday. I offered to make him dinner, but he turned me down.” I hang my head, but glance up. Otis waits. He really is a good listener. “But then he texted after he got home to offer me a ride to Youssef’s on Monday night. I mean, I was happy about that, but also… confused. I guess he’s trying to let me know he just wants to be friends.” My eyes fall to my hands fidgeting with the cutlery.
“Didn’t he say that he never dates students? Maybe he’s towing the line?” He pauses, and I look up. “But you won’t be his student next term, right?”
“What if he means while I’m a student, period?” I shake my head and stare into the distance. “Why would he wait if that’s the case? What if he’s meeting someone right now in New York?” I run both hands through my hair, squeezing locks between my fingers, then drag my hands to the back of my neck. “What if I’ve missed my chance?” I suck in air and exhale a ragged breath. “What if it’s hopeless?”
“You need to calm down.” Otis slants his head, forcing me to look at him, and waits. When I make eye contact, he smiles. “Don’t leave him any doubt, maybe? Let him know you’d be up for it.”
“Maybe.” I sip my stout slowly, turning over in my mind Charlie’s response to the photo I sent. I don’t know what I was expecting. Him to proposition me? Ask if he could come over to see the rest? I decide Otis doesn’t need to know about that move. “I don’t want to pressure him though. Look what happened on Saturday.”
“But he texted you right after, didn’t he?” I nod, and Otis asks, “What happened on Monday?”
“Nothing on the ride to Nathan and Youssef’s. Dr Henderson needed a ride too, so we weren’t alone. And Charlie got dragged away as soon as we walked in the door. But…” I pause when the waiter shows up with the soups we ordered. After grinding some cracked pepper for us, they walk away, and I continue. “Youssef pulled us aside at the party and asked Charlie if he’d already got his ticket to Mexico. When he said he hadn’t, Youssef asked if we could coordinate, since Charlie’s been there before and I haven’t. We’re supposed to get together to work on it when he gets back from New York.”
“Oh my god! You should have led with that!” Otis shakes his head, letting out an exasperated laugh. “Is your advisor shipping the two of you? Because that is excellent meddling.” He’s grinning at me.
Hmm… I hadn’t thought of that before. I bring a spoonful of the creamy soup to my mouth, contemplating that possibility. Surely not! Right?
Not for the first time, I’m feeling guilty that Otis is stuck listening to my lovesick woes. “Sorry for monopolizing the conversation again with my problems. How’s everything going with your programme? And with Julia?”
“Med school is kicking my ass. Just the usual though.” He shrugs. “And… Nothing much to say about Julia. Our situationship is good.” He grins.
Our mains are served, and we pause our conversation. We both take a few bites before I ask, “She’s in your cohort?”
“Yep. Second year, like me.”
“Is there a chance for more than a situationship?”
“Nah, but it’s okay. I’m not the one for her, and she’s not the one for me, but we relieve our stress together occasionally. It works for now.” He smirks. “I’m more invested in your drama.” I groan, and he laughs. “Keep flirting with him, okay? From what you’ve told me, I’m still hopeful. Give him hints you’re open to it and see what happens.”
I look away, but I’m smiling. I turn back to Otis. “Yeah… okay. I’ll try.”
✨📖✨
CHARLIE
Emerging into the low-ceilinged corridor from the platform, I follow the signs to the Red Line towards Uptown, wheeling my small carry-on and weaving in and out of the station's throngs. I usually stay in SoHo when I visit New York, but Tori booked a hotel on the Upper West Side, thinking I might like to run in the park. She’s not wrong. I brought my trainers and tech wear, but I also enjoy an early morning run across the bridge into Brooklyn. But where I run is not important. The point of this visit is to spend time with Michael and my sister.
I text her I’m on the subway from Penn Station, and she’s waiting in the lobby when I arrive at the hotel. I drop my backpack and open my arms.
“I’m so happy to see you,” I say as she falls against me. Tears pool. The sheer relief of being with someone I don’t have to hide any part of myself from overwhelms me. We stay like that for a few minutes before I loosen my grip, and she steps back.
She smiles up at me. “Michael’s in our room.” I read the same emotion I’m feeling on Tori’s face, though I’m probably the only person besides Michael who could.
“He wanted to give us a moment?” I ask, returning her smile. I would have loved having her visit me at home again, but I know I’m going to enjoy experiencing New York with her… and Michael.
“Yep.” She reaches for the handle of my carry-on, and I let her take it while I pick up my backpack. “Your room is beside ours,” she says as we wait for the lift.
We enter it, and Tori hands me the card she used before she pressed the floor number. “Thanks for taking care of the reservations,” I say as we ascend, and I take the key card for my room.
She smiles at me knowingly. “You’ve been busy.”
“Still…” The lift opens before I can say more, and Tori leads me down the corridor to the second room from the end. She tells me to come next door once I’m ready and reminds me we have a reservation for 8pm.
After stepping out of the hotel, we walk to the corner and head south. It's cold, but there’s no wind, so the walk to the restaurant is pleasant. Michael has an arm slung over my shoulder, and he’s holding Tori’s hand. He’s as enthusiastically affectionate on this walk as he was when he opened the hotel room door and embraced me. I love Michael. When he first started coming round when we were all in secondary school, I couldn’t see it. But it wasn’t long before I realised that the contrast of his openness compliments my sister’s guardedness. He’s good for her.
We’re seated only a few minutes after we arrive. Michael picked Mexican for tonight in honour of my research trip that he questioned me about on the walk over. Once the server drops our drinks and takes our order, Tori cuts to the heart of the matter we’ve been dancing around since I arrived.
“What’s going on, Charlie?” The look she gives me can only mean one thing. I’ve sent Tori cryptic updates since our conversation a few weeks ago.
I trust Michael, so I don’t hesitate. “I’m getting signals from him; I'm almost certain I’m not imagining it.” I glance at the ceiling and gesture with my hands. “I can’t put it into words, but… it’s the way he looks at me. And the way he talks to me. And… He asked to make dinner for me last Saturday.”
“Did you let him?” she asks, then slowly sips her horchata, gazing at me over the rim of the glass.
“No.” I sigh and, propping my elbow on the table, rest my chin on my hand. “I couldn’t.”
Michael twists his head like a dog hearing an ultrasonic whistle. “Why not?”
“I can’t do anything.” I sit up and raise my palms to the sky, shrugging. “I can’t act on these feelings while he’s my student.” I drop my eyes, staring at the napkin over my lap. “I didn’t trust myself to be alone with him.”
Tori clears her throat and looks up. “Charlie can’t jeopardise his career, Michael.” She’s right but hearing her say it out loud is a gut punch.
“How long will he be your student?” Michael asks, and I look from Tori to him.
“I often have this debate with my friend Isaac.” They're both staring at me from across the table, and my brain conjures the idea of being in a witness box. “He thinks if Nick is willing – I’m not coercing him – it shouldn’t matter. He’s adamant that once the semester is over, and Nick’s not enrolled in one of my classes…” I trail off and shrug. “But I worry about him being a student in my college at the uni even when he’s no longer in my class. I’m worried about how that will look.”
“Is he really worth all the trouble?” Tori asks softly, so my irritation feels disproportionate. “I don’t want you to get hurt. Professionally… or personally, of course.”
I breathe in and out slowly and remind myself that she’s only looking out for me, and she doesn’t know him, so of course she’s sceptical. Measuredly, I answer, “Yeah, he is worth it. I’ve never met anyone like him before. He’s kind and smart and funny and beautiful, like, inside and out.” I reach up and tug at my hair. I might as well lay it all out there. “But… I can’t expect him to wait. He told me he’s single, but I live in fear that he’ll meet someone before I can let him know how I feel.”
Michael’s mouth starts to open. He looks from Tori to me, and says, “I know you can’t come out and say it. I think Tori’s worry is reasonable.” He glances at her impassive face. “But can you let him know without saying it? Let him know he has a chance at least. If he’s as smart as you say, surely, he’ll pick up on it? And if he’s interested, he’ll give it a chance to develop before he moves on, right?” Michael's earnest face breaks into a smile. “Flirt with him a bit. Enough to give him ideas, but not so much that you don’t have plausible deniability.”
I ponder Michael’s suggestion. “Yeah, maybe.”
I wake early to take advantage of the hotel’s park proximity. I run the six-mile loop inside Central Park, celebrating Harlem Hill with huffing, spitting, and swearing since all my routes back home are virtually flat by comparison. I finish only a bit slower than normal though, and I’m back, showered and checking my work emails, before Tori knocks on my door.
After a leisurely breakfast, we stroll through the park to get to The Met. I let Tori and Michael pick the sights we’ll see today, since I’ve spent many weekends in the city over the years and can fly here anytime I want. We walk through the first floor together for a bit, though we’ve already planned a meetup spot for when we inevitably get separated by pursuing our different quests. When Tori and Michael head upstairs, I stay behind, admiring the Greek and Roman art.
I examine some jewellery fragments in a glass case. There are too many to read all the tags and make it out of the building before closing, so I move on to a larger display with pottery. Scenes of war and athleticism dominate in this grouping, unfortunately. I prefer examples that show concepts like gender and sexuality being fluid across time and space.
When I turn away from the cases, I’m struck by the elegant lines of a marble figure, and an idea pops into my head. I pull my phone out and take a few photos, then open the app.
[Charlie 10:48] At a museum in NYC. Thought I saw you. 😉 *IMAGE: nude male statue from the waist up with defined muscles*
My finger hovers over the send icon for a long moment. I move aside to let a group pass, and the screen times out. I awaken my phone and stare at the message for a second more, then delete it. Fuck, Charlie! What are you thinking? I can’t send that to him. Mainly, I don’t want him to think I’m only interested in objectifying him. His physical appearance is only one part of what I like about him. There’s so much more. And even for all my bravado telling Tori and Michael I’ve been picking up signals, there’s still a lingering doubt in the back of my mind warning me that I could be reading it all wrongly. What if he doesn’t like me back? What if he doesn’t want my attention? I want to give him a hint, not harass him. I’ve got to be more subtle.
I find Tori and Michael at our meet up spot near the coat check, and we walk across the park to the Hayden Planetarium at the natural history museum. After the planetarium show, we check out the Halls of Gems and Minerals, then find the gift shop. None of us had the stamina or desire to wander through the museum’s taxidermied menagerie, but Tori found a cool pair of Labradorite earrings at the gift shop to take home with her. We rest at the hotel before heading out for the evening. We stop in SoHo for Filipino tapas on our way to Brooklyn to check out a band Tori found. Described as richly textured, moody, and deep, the band's sound feels like being cloaked in my sister’s personality, and I understand why she picked this place.
I’m lost in thought, taking occasional sips from my mezcal martini and checking my phone every few minutes. I don’t know why. He’s never messaged me before. I’ve always initiated.
“You’re thinking about him.” Tori stares at me fixedly between sets, while Michael’s up buying another round.
“Yes.” There’s no point trying to hide it from her. I think about Isaac, and the way he’s also too knowing. His comes from observation though, while Tori’s empathic. “I’m almost never not thinking about him."
“You’ve resisted infatuations before. Shut it down when it’s not practical.”
“It’s never felt like this before.” Emotion flows out in my words.
“I suppose I agree with Michael then. Let him know without actually saying it.” She’s giving me her blessing to pursue Nick. Not that I need her approval, but I like to have it. “Can you do that?”
“I can try.” We are comfortably silent for a few seconds before I say, “There’s a party tomorrow night – Halloween. I wasn’t sure if I should go, but he’ll be there.” She raises her brows, and I know she wants to hear the plan. “Yeah. I’ll have to hurry… and hope my plane’s not delayed.”
She doesn’t need to say, ‘Be careful, Charlie.’ I can see it on her face.
I scroll through Nick’s Insta when I climb into bed that night. I get stuck on a sweaty, muddy rugby photo from several years ago, one thing leads to another, and I’m crawling out of bed fifteen minutes later, heading back to the bathroom to clean myself up.
Is it wrong?
I feel the park’s hills in my legs when I wake the next morning, but I decide to get up and do it again. I don’t want to waste the opportunity to run in Central Park, since I don’t know when I’ll get the chance again. I repeat my route from the day before, but in reverse, then come back to the hotel, shower, pack, and check out. Tori and Michael are leaving today too, but their flight to London leaves after 11pm, so they’ve booked an extra day in the hotel to have a place to rest before going to the airport. They offer to keep my bag, but I want to drop it at a luggage storage at Penn Station because I don’t want to come back for it.
We eat breakfast in the West Village, then walk to the Stonewall Monument. We’ve all been here before, but not together. We head west to the Christopher Street Pier, and I explain the space’s importance in queer history. After leaving the site, we stroll slowly north on the trail along the Hudson to reach the Whitney. Nathan recommended it, and we spend a couple of hours exploring its floors and its views of the Hudson together.
When we leave the Whitney, we take the High Line to an artisan shop at Chelsea Market, where I buy a couple of prints to hang in my house and a t-shirt from a Brooklyn artist. Tori and I need to get out of the crowded space, so we look for a restaurant nearby, not within. We find Chinese food featuring hand-pulled noodles for a late lunch.
After we eat, it’s time to say goodbye to Tori and Michael. They walk into the station with me and wait while I retrieve my luggage and buy my ticket to Newark. I shake Michael’s hand into a side hug, then turn to my sister. I embrace Tori, and tears form in my eyes. Being so far away from her is the hardest part of living over here. Not that we saw each other all the time in the UK once we were adults, but we could with minimal planning. Now, I see her twice a year if I’m lucky.
“Take care of yourself,” she whispers before she lets go, and I know she means be careful with your heart as much as the rest of me.
I wipe away a tear and smile. “I promise.”
I arrive at Theo’s after 10pm even with all my rushing. I practically ran out of the airport once I got off the plane, since I didn’t check a bag. I drove over the speed limit, not dangerously or enough to get a ticket, but more than usual. I took the quickest shower possible. Yes, I could have got here sooner if I’d not showered, but I walked around New York all day before getting on the plane. A shower wasn’t optional. I need to be fresh. I need Nick to want me, so I pulled out all the stops.
I didn’t have time for a costume, but I’m wearing all black. I dusted off the pair of leather trousers and the sheer, long-sleeved fitted t-shirt hanging in the back of my closet. It must be the first time I’ve worn these trousers since I moved here. My dark curls are tousled, and I added eyeliner, lip gloss, and a swipe of iridescent glitter to my cheekbones. I may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but I know I look good. In the Uber on the way to the party, I think about the men I’ve had eating out of the palm of my hand when I’ve been dressed like this. I just hope Nick’s at the party, and it works on him.
A trio of anthropology grad students greet me from the bench swing when I step onto the front porch of Theo and his partner’s three-story Queen Anne revival in the historic neighbourhood north of downtown. It’s too cold for many people to be outside, so I’m certain it’s packed inside. The thump of early aught’s dance music vibrates the curved glass of the bow windows. I open the front door and enter the hall.
Sasha spots me and comes over to give me a hug while I’m getting my bearings. Sofas and chairs are pushed against the walls in the room to the left, where shadowed bodies shake and twirl to the music. To the right, people are gathered around the long dining table either playing or half-watching a drinking game. Sasha tells me that people are leaving their coats in the alcove off the kitchen, so, coat in hand, I wander in that direction slowly, stopping to talk to people along the way.
I know most of the faculty, though a few I only recognize from seeing them around campus and haven’t been formally introduced. Younger faculty tend to dominate, but there are plenty of Theo’s peers here too. The party composition is probably four students to one faculty, with a large portion from Theo’s department. Most of the social sciences and humanities are represented though, with a few odd natural scientists thrown in. Theo’s parties are infamous, so the students invite all their friends from other departments.
With all the stopping and chatting, it’s taken about twenty minutes to get from the front door to the alcove. There’s a temporary garment rack with hangers in addition to the permanent hooks along the wall above cubbies. The alcove is adjacent to the kitchen and the back porch, so it’s sort of like a mud room, but one with a velvet sofa and antique pedestal table. I hang up my coat, then check myself in the arched, carved mirror hanging above the sofa. Time to put my plan into action.
I take a couple of quick strides towards the doorway and run into Nick, literally. He grips my arms to keep me steady, and we laugh when we look at each other. “Hi.”
“Hi, I was looking for you.” Twinkling eyes stare back at me. “Happy you ran into me,” he says, his hands still wrapped around my biceps. His sideways smile appears.
“It’s your fault.” He tilts his head, eyeing me, waiting. “If you weren’t built like a brick wall and standing in the doorway…” I drop my eyes demurely, then raise them, giving him a kittenish smile.
His mouth opens and closes, and I laugh. “Charlie, I…” He drops his hands but lets his fingertips trail down the backs of my arms. Shivers run over my body, but I force myself not to visibly shake. He takes a half step back, and his eyes travel over my body. His teeth scrape his bottom lip. “I like this…” His voice is low, and he reaches out to run his fingertips down the sheer fabric covering my arm. He looks up, into my eyes, smiling dreamily. “What are you supposed to be?”
I close the half step distance between us and raise up to whisper, “I’m a gay uni professor.” I step back, smile, and wink. He laughs softly, and my eyes follow the rise and fall of his barely covered chest. “What are you supposed to be?” I ask, quickly adding “Wait…” I take another step back and look him up and down. He’s wearing a homemade costume of snuggly fitted black joggers, a tight black vest, leather vambraces covering his forearms, and boots. Finally, I notice Mjolnir hanging from the leather belt around his waist. “Oh! Hi, Thor.” I grin.
“Yes, but…” His brows draw together. “It’s more complicated. I’m a palindrome.” He opens his arms wide, displaying himself to me.
I tilt my head. “I’m not following.”
“Deified,” he says and sighs, giving me a tired smile. “I agreed to palindrome costumes with some people in my linguistics seminar, but I keep having to explain it.”
“Oh!” I drag out the interjection. “So, you are a huge dork? Got it.” Nodding slowly, I laugh, and he gasps indignantly. “I like it,” I say softly and rest my hand on his bicep. I think he’s blushing, but the lighting is low.
We’re gazing into each other's eyes when I hear, “Chaaarlieee!” Theo calls from behind Nick, and I drop my hand, hoping Theo didn’t see. We step out of the doorway, and Nick moves to my side. “Damn! Looking good, Dr Spring,” Theo says as his eyes undress me. Ick! He gives Nick an appraising look after he’s finished with me. Double ick! He looks between us, smirking, and I want to tell him to fuck off. Obviously, I can’t, especially in the man’s own home. “Sasha said you made it, so I came to find you. I want you to meet someone, the visiting professor in Social Work. I think you’ll find her work interesting.”
Theo waits expectantly for me to follow. I glance at Nick and press my lips into a tight smile. I nod, and Theo turns. I start to follow, but feel a hand grip my arm and pull me back. I look at Nick, and he leans in, moving his hand lightly against my lower back and whispering in my ear.
“Dance with me later?”
✨📖✨