The sun is slowly setting, and a breeze sweeps across my terrace, making me shiver. I turn around to grab the blanket, but then I remember I didn’t bring it with me; instead, I draped it across the sleeping body in my bed. Before I can make a decision to go back inside, a large, dark form registers in my peripheral vision, casually leaning against the doorframe to my apartment, arms folded and ankles crossed, a smile tugging at his lips. It’s the most beautiful sight I can imagine.

He sees me watching him and the smile widens. “Hello, boyfriend.”

I grin back at him. I can’t help it. I still grin like a loon when someone refers to us as boyfriends. It’s a reflex. Like the Pavlovian dog or something. Only less drooling. Although the way Rashid stands there in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants…

Before I can turn into the actual Pavlovian dog, I give him a proper greeting.

“Hey, boyfriend, you’re awake.” My hands reach out to him. “Come here…”

He dutifully obeys me and slides onto my deckchair behind me. I grunt in mock-protest as I’m being pushed forward to make space for him, but then his arms are around my middle, and he places a kiss between my shoulder blades. Who needs a blanket for warm and fuzzy feelings?

“We think we skipped the hello part earlier.” I admit almost a little sheepishly, and I can feel Rashid shake with amusement behind me.

“Yes, I think we did. I didn’t mind your way of welcome, though.”

“How was your flight?”

“Good. Long. Hectic.” He snuggles tightly against my back, and I rub his forearms, resting on my stomach. “I tried to get a few reports done, so I have more time with you.”

“How long can you stay?” My voice is suddenly very small, because I’m already dreading the day he’ll have to leave again, and my worst fears are confirmed with his next words.

“Until Sunday…” Today is Wednesday…

I’m trying not to show my disappointment, but my whole body tenses until I can hear a suspicious snicker behind me and his hands capture mine where they’re frozen on his arms.

“Sorry, couldn’t resist.” He peppers more kisses along my spine. “I’ll meet the team tomorrow and see if they need any help. If they do, I can stay longer, but until 1 February at least.”

I slap his elbow, since it is the easiest part of him I can reach. “You’re an evil man, Rashid Chaudhury. I hope you know that.” I pretend to pout, but I can feel my body relax a little. That’s almost two weeks with some tiny hope for more.

“Do you think they’ll need you here? Man, this was easier when you pretended you were recruiting me.” I try to turn around in his embrace to get a glimpse of his face. “Maybe I should feign interest in being recruited? Would that help?”

He shakes his head, snorting. “I’m afraid that ship has sailed, Wendell.” He takes advantage of my turned head and pecks my cheek. “They might need an extra pair of eyes and hands. They recently lost someone and don’t have a replacement yet.”

I’m shocked and twist further in his arms. “They lost someone…?”

Rashid chuckles. “She’s pregnant, Wendell. An ordinary, human pregnancy. Not even an incubus involved. Only her husband. Quite boring.”

I frown. “What’s an incubus?”

“A male demon who sexually preys on sleeping women and sometimes fathers children with them. The female version is a succubus.”

I eye him suspiciously. “Do they really exist?” But he only gives me an enigmatic smile in return. Classified information, I suppose.

“So, are these demons strictly heterosexual? Are the gays safe for once?”

Rashid bursts out laughing. “I’m afraid not. Demons can be just as fluid in their sexuality as humans can. Maybe even more so. At least less closeted about it. And shapeshifters can just change into anything and anyone according to their target.”

I squint at him. “You’re making this up. You couldn’t tell me as much if it were true.”

He shrugs. “I didn’t tell you anything you didn’t already know. You know vampires. You know Lestat, and you know he’s never hidden his attraction to men and women. Anything with two legs, really. Although I don’t suppose a missing leg would actually stop him.” He coughs.

I giggle at the mental image of Lestat and a one-legged Louis. I can’t imagine Lestat with anyone else and wonder if he really sleeps around as much.

“Enough of my work. What are you up to?” He asks with a nod toward my laptop, which I set aside, lid closed, when he came outside.

“Just work stuff…” I try to sound casual.

“Work stuff? What kind of work stuff?” His voice is curious, and normally I’d appreciate it. I know my job isn’t as exciting as his by far, but he always makes sure to ask about it. Like it matters what I do. Today his question sends ants of anticipation crawling up my spine.

I don’t reply, just keep stroking his forearms. The thing about long-distance relationships isn’t only that you don’t see each other as often as you wish and the long stretches of loneliness in between. Smartphones and the internet make it easier to stay connected, other than in the old days where you had to write letters and wait for weeks to get a reply, I guess. But over the last few months, since Rashid and I started this thing, I’ve realised that some things are better said in person. It’s easier to read your partner’s reaction if they sit across from you, and being able to physically touch, even during a confrontation, gives you the kind of reassurance that a video call never could. So no matter how sweet our reunion is, it’s also the moment where things bubble up that should have been addressed weeks ago. My gaze follows the trail of steam rising from a nearby vent, and I let out a deep breath. I need to tell him. Time to rip the band-aid off.

“Rashid…” I start, and he answers with a hum. “I think we need to talk…”

I can feel his body stiffen against me. “That’s never a promising start…”

I’d agree with him, but this is important. I stand, turn around, and sit on the footrest facing Rashid, creating a little space between us. He starts to reach for me, instinctively, ready to draw me back in, but the moment he sees my expression, he stills. I’m trying to take a deep breath, but it comes out a little shattered.

There’s real concern mixed with confusion on Rashid’s face, but his voice is soothing when he says. “What is it, Wendell? Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

I look down at the corner of a pillow that somehow ended up between our laps and pick at one of the small tassels along its edge.

“Wendell…” He says softly, running a thumb over my wrist. Everything in me is suddenly wound tight, and breathing only makes it worse, so I blurt:

“You know Daniel Molloy, right? The journalist…”

Rashid’s thumb stops. “Yes, I know him.”

“He offered me a job.” Rashid’s hand drops, and I risk a glance at his face. It’s completely unreadable. He’s fully slipped into professional mode. It reminds me of our early days, our first dates that were still pretend-recruiting meetings. When he desperately clung to remain the professional Talamasca agent but lost the battle a little more every time. I look down again.

“Louis introduced us last summer. The day after my birthday, actually. And Daniel wants me to provide some services for him.” My gaze shifts back to Rashid’s face, desperate to read his reaction, but he’s giving me nothing. I hate that I’m doing this to him, forcing him back into his shell that I worked so hard getting him out of. Something clamps down under my ribs. I miss my silly, happy Rashid, the one who smiles at me, who opened his heart to me, who let me in. I don’t even know if he’s aware he’s shutting me off or if it’s a trained reaction. But it’s scary how fast and effortlessly he can retreat into that shut-down version of himself..

“It was pretty weird. One day there was you, offering me a job as a spy…”

“Informant.” He corrects me automatically.

“… and then the next day, I had two vampires here offering me a job.”

“They were here?” He looks around as if he could still detect traces of them after all these months. “You never said…”

“Yes… um… remember when we first texted and I told you I had guests and you asked if it was a wild party with strippers and go-go dancers?”

“Hey, you were the one who brought up strippers and go-go dancers!” He protests, and I can’t help but grin.

“So, you do remember that?”

Rashid takes one of my hands and turns it upside down, so his palm rests on mine. “Of course, I do.”

I relax a little into his touch, letting his warmth seep into me

“So, Louis and Daniel were my guests that night. I just never wanted to be your informant, so I didn’t mention it. And then it didn’t seem important. I had no intentions of accepting their offer either, so it didn’t matter.” I shift my weight on my deckchair and take another deep breath, this one a little steadier, now that I made a start. “But then I was thinking… I do have the time, and I could use the money… you know… to come and see you…” My eyes flit to his face, but the Mona Lisa gives up her secrets more easily than he does in that moment. A small lump lodges in my throat, wondering whether this mask will ever drop again.

“So what kind of…” His voice cracks a little, and he clears his throat. “Erm… services are we talking about?”

I shrug. “We haven’t talked about specifics yet… research, I think. Transcribing old interviews that he has on tape. He mentioned interviews, too, but I don’t know about that yet. Maybe further down the line?”

Rashid lets out a deep breath that he’s obviously been holding for a while. It’s only then that I realise I probably could have phrased Daniel’s job proposal a little better. My hand flies out to squeeze his fingers.

“Jay-zuhs, Rashid, no. I’m not going back to hustling to earn a little something extra.” I probably should be offended that he’d think that of me. But his eyes widen in shock, which is a pretty strong reaction for his otherwise still, completely stoic face. Maybe it hadn’t actually crossed his mind. “Not letting them feed on me either.” I add a little meekly, before continuing with a little more conviction: “And I already told him, anything I do cannot interfere with your job. So nothing concerning the supernatural.” I know that the simple fact that his boyfriend is working with a vampire is probably a conflict of interest for Rashid alone, but… I kind of am working for two vampires as it is, so what’s one more? The difference is that working with Daniel on one of his books, even if I’m only the one transcribing one of his old interviews, will be a lot closer and more intense than taking care of a building that is technically owned by the vampires’ lawyer.

“So… what do you think?” I ask, my nerves tingling.

Rashid’s eyes slant the tiniest of fractions, which is honestly the only reaction I’m getting.

“Are you asking my permission?”

I can feel my eyebrows furrow. “Um… no? Do I have to? I thought… we’re in a relationship, and that’s what you do? You tell each other stuff and maybe ask your partner’s opinion before life-altering decisions?”

Rashid goes still, eyes narrowed on nothing in particular, but his hand stays connected with mine. His thumb rubbing the side of my wrist. He’s probably not even aware he’s doing it; he just naturally does it whenever he’s touching me, his fingers always moving. I’m grateful for the touch. It means he’s still with me.

His voice is low when he finally replies, still staring out to the horizon where the last rays of sunshine slowly dim.

“Of course, you don’t have to ask my permission, Wendell. You’re a grown man; you can do whatever you like.” His lips quirk up a little, and I’m so relieved to see emotions return to his face. “Well, there are things I’d like to keep between ourselves, but…”

“But? There’s a but? Are you saying you’d be okay if I went back to prostitution?” I glare at him. I’m only about half-serious. Even in the realm of hypotheticals, this isn’t an option. It doesn’t exist.

He actually laughs at my question – or maybe at my glowering face – but he sobers up quickly. “No, definitely not okay.” He lets go of my wrist and grabs my hips, pulling me closer to him. “Come here, you.” He leans his head against my forehead. “I would not be okay with it because it hurt you, and I don’t want you to get hurt. I also never thought it would be something you even remotely considered.”

“I didn’t.” I whisper, slightly mellowed by his response. “This isn’t me anymore. I never want anyone else to touch me like that ever again. Only you.”

His gently tucks my chin. “And no one ever will. Not against your will. Not on my watch. I promised you that, didn’t I?” And then his lips are on mine, kissing me softly. Images of another rooftop swirl up in my mind, fireworks going off in the background, breath smelling of mint and a fruity punch brushing my face. Another lump forms in my throat, but I push it down. One confession at a time.

“So, what are you thinking?” I repeat.

He huffs and pulls me closer until our bodies touch, his chin resting on my shoulder. “Not going to lie. I don’t like it much.” He can feel me inhale to reply and hastens to add. “Not because I don’t think that it’s an amazing opportunity for you and you’d do a great job. I do. I believe in you, and I believe you can do about anything and be brilliant at it if you put your mind to it.”

I’m too shocked at his words – brilliant? Me? At anything? – that I forget to react with my usual snort of disbelief.

“I just don’t like that it brings you even closer to vampires and the danger they bring.” He adds.

Now comes my snort. “You’re the one talking, Mr Talamasca.”

He eases away, eyes fixed on mine. “Yes, but I was trained for this. You’re not.”

“I trust Louis.” I insist stubbornly. “I know they’re monsters. I know what they’re capable of. But so far, they’ve only protected me… remember?” I can feel him flinch a little, and I know he does remember that night. “Louis wouldn’t put me in harm’s way. And Daniel is kind of cool. I like him.”

It takes Rashid a while, and then he nods. “He is kind of cool. He was still human when I met him, but I liked him then.”

I sling my arms around his neck. I need him to understand what this means to me, not only a few extra bucks.

“I really want to do this, Rashid. And not only for the money. I’m only 23. I don’t want to be a measly custodian for the rest of my life.” I’m waiting for a reaction, but as none comes, I continue. “I love what I do, and maybe I should be grateful that I have what I have. I’m still alive, I’m healthy, and I’m free. Others weren’t so lucky.”

My thoughts travel to my former mate T-Jay, who overdosed in a back alley before his 21st birthday. He’d sought oblivion from that shithow that was his life. I was at Josie’s when it happened. I’d seen his decline but was unable to stop it. I only heard the stories whispered between the other boys. How they found him. Vomit already dried on his shirt by the time anyone bothered to look. He died there all alone.

Or Brandon Adams, the friend Officer Reyes told us about once. The one that was kicked out of his parents’ house because they caught him making out with another boy when he was 15. Died of AIDS when he was 17 because some bastard paid him extra to go bareback. He was the reason why Javi Reyes was always one of the good cops. Looking the other way without asking for a favour in return. Slipping us a pack of condoms and reminding us to use them.

“Maybe I’m just getting greedy.” I go on. “But maybe there’s still more out there for me. Maybe working for Daniel will be a colossal failure, but I want to give it a try.”

Rashid is still tense. We both are. But after what feels like an eternity, he inhales and nods. His hands cradle my face, and I can see the concern in his eyes but also something else.

“It won’t be a failure. You’ll be magnificent. I’m so proud of you.”

I squirm in his arms. Taking compliments will never be my forte. “Yeah yeah… let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I haven’t actually done anything yet.” I still feel a wave of relief washing over me.

Rashid chuckles against my lips before locking me in a tight embrace to stop my wiggling and expertly shuts up any further protests with his tongue.

“We good?” I ask him when I get the chance, the flutter of my nerves not completely calmed down inside of me.

“Yes.” His answer comes without hesitation and uncertainty. “And thank you.”

“For what?” I ask, puzzled.

“For telling me. You’re right. Communication is important, especially in our situation.” He looks into my eyes, and I can see the emotions swimming in his. They’re back. He’s back. The mask is gone. “I’m sorry if I reacted like a jerk. I’m still learning how to do this, just like you are. This is different than any of my other relationships.”

I feel lighter, better. After telling Rashid about my plans, this seems more real now than ever. I’m going to work with Daniel Molloy. I don’t know what will come of it. Nothing, maybe. He could realise I actually haven’t the faintest about doing research and fire my sorry ass. But the prospect of doing something new is exciting. A new page in my book. The dread I’ve been feeling ever since I sent that text to Daniel in mid-December uncurls inside of me and makes room for a hopeful buzz.

I know that Rashid’s still coming to terms with the news, but he’s doing his best to be supportive and I love him for it. The enthusiasm suddenly rolling through me is also rubbing off on him.

“So is that it? Was that your big confession?” His whole face softens.

His question dampens my mood for a moment. No—there’s more I should confess. But I just can’t. Not tonight. Not while holding onto the possibility of something better, even if I don’t know how it’ll turn out. Telling him about Daniel’s offer was important. It’s part of my future, the one I want to have with Rashid. The other one – Freddie – is in the past. Done. Over. Some things are better left behind, locked away. So I just nod.

Rashid huffs. “Jeez, Wendell, you had me worried there for a moment.” He slings his arms around my shoulder and draws me in. I lean into him, inhaling his unique scent, and let it overrule the guilt that still lingers on my conscience.

After a while, Rashid clears his throat. “So… when I woke up on New Year’s morning, I checked my phone and found one sexy-as-hell picture of my boyfriend…”

I groan and hide my face in his neck. “Jay-zuhs, I was really hoping you didn’t see that.”

Rashid snickers. “Are you kidding me? That was the best way possible to start the new year.” He lets me simmer in my embarrassment for a moment before he adds. “I might have studied it in great detail – on more than one occasion – and I’m pretty sure I saw something right about there…” His left hand skims underneath my T-shirt. “that I haven’t seen before. And I thought I knew every inch of your skin pretty well by now.”

“Surprise?” I can’t hide my smile.

“Can I see it?” Excitement flashes across his features.

“Of course, you can. I’m surprised you didn’t see it earlier.”

“I guess I was too occupied with your face.” He grins.

“Go on… you know where it is. Unpack it.” I encourage him.

Rashid slides his hands underneath my knees and tugs me closer, causing me to let out a surprised squeal. I end up leaning back on my elbows, my legs resting on his thighs, feet on the ground. Rashid takes his time, slowly sliding my shirt up, splaying his fingers over every inch of bare skin he reveals. His hands glide into the waistband of my sweats; his face couldn’t look more like a child on Christmas morning as he inches my pants slowly down. I lift my thighs for better access, and Rashid lets his hands wander over my ass before revealing my new tattoo, decorating my right hipbone.

Rashid stares at it for the longest time.

“What do you think?” I ask, suddenly feeling a little exposed and vulnerable.

Rashid runs a thumb across the edges, cautiously like he’s touching something holy, and I gasp.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, halting his caress.

“No, just still a little tender.” I suck my lower lip between my teeth. “Especially when you touch it like that.”

Rashid looks up at me with a wicked grin. “Like that?” and does it again, resulting in a soft moan from me. I knew my skin was still sensitive in that area, but the sparks erupting all over my body are a little unexpected. Rashid’s grin widens, and he bends down to pepper small, tender kisses across my hip.

“It’s beautiful,” he whispers against my skin, tracing the lines with his forefinger. “So sexy. What does it stand for?”

“Can you guess?”

He tilts his head slightly to get a better look at it. “Daisies. Like the daisy crown Josie made for you when you were a kid?”

I nod, stoked he remembers that story. One of the few happy memories I have of my family, all four of us together.

“It’s more like a daisy chain. Not yet a crown.” I touch the three blossoms in order. “They stand for Soso, Theo and Ezra…”

“So they can keep the daisies and don’t have to hide.” Rashid says.

I nod. “So they can have the best childhood and life they deserve. And I’ll always be there for them.”

Rashid keeps looking down at my tattoo, brushing his fingers over it again and again.

“Still sexy?” I tease.

“Oh yes…” He looks up at me, and I’m struck to see a wet glint in his eyes. “You being the best uncle these kids could ever hope for is the sexiest thing possible.”

The lump in my throat is back, only for very different reasons. I reach out to touch his face, and he leans forward to seal his lips to mine. When he breaks our kiss, he rests his forehead against mine.

“Wendell, I…” he starts to say, but his voice breaks, and he shakes his head as if to drive away unwanted thoughts.

“Rashid, what…” I’m a little lost for words because I don’t know what’s happening right now.

“I love you so very much, Wendell.” Rashid finally whispers. I’m sure it’s not what he meant to say earlier, but those words will never cease to make my insides glow.

“I love you, too, Rashid.” My voice sounds stunned. I expected all sorts of reactions, from indifference to mild interest, but never this.

Rashid kisses me again, his tongue gliding into my mouth. I want to keep him in place, keep kissing him, and never stop, but he pulls away and starts kissing my face, my temples, my cheeks, the tip of my nose, back to my lips, underneath my chin. He continues on a quick path down my chest until he’s reached his destination, and when his tongue licks a wet streak across my freshly inked skin, I can’t hold back a moan. When his touch earlier had caused sparks erupting across my skin, it is now fireworks setting off all over my body. My hands are buried in his soft hair, no pressure to keep him down, just gentle brushes, while he kisses, licks and sucks the still sensitive skin over my hipbone.

“Rashid…” I sigh, and he hums in response, his breath cooling my heated skin. “Come back up here. Please.”

He looks up at me from beneath his dark lashes. “Are you sure? I was just going to…”

I just tug at his shoulder, and he obeys my wish, leaving his right hand in the place he intended for his mouth. It’s distracting and slows down my cognitive functions considerably, but I have to see his face; I have to make sure he’s alright. When his face is eye-level with mine, the sadness in his eyes is gone. replaced by the wicked gleam that steals its way into his dark amber orbs when he knows his touch is driving me insane. Satisfied, my hands pull him down for another kiss, one that I don’t intend on breaking ever again. When Rashid pulls back for air, I almost whimper at the loss.

“Rashid… take me to bed…” My plea is drowned out by the magic his fist is working on me.

“With pleasure. But first, I want you to come for me.”

Apparently I’ll do anything my man asks me to do. He needn’t even ask twice.