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Percy closed his eyes in a long, slow blink. When he met Wren’s gaze again, his expression was steady and determined. “Fine. But if he yells at anyone, it’s going to be you.”
Wren’s grin felt like it was going to split his face in half. “Okay.” He took another step back, then paused. “Percy.”
Percy looked at him, eyebrows raised.
“Stay with me tonight. Stay over. Wake up with me in the morning. Please.”
Percy’s face fell a little. “Are you sure?”
Wren knew he deserved that. They’d tried it once, and it had started wonderfully until Wren panicked, and Wren knew he couldn’t ask Percy to take the risk of it all going wrong again. But he knew now—deep in his chest—he needed him close for this little while. Eventually, he’d want space. They both would. But right now, he couldn’t stand the idea of distance.
“I’m sure,” he said. He couldn’t really explain it in words, and he hoped that was enough.
Percy licked his lips, then finally nodded, and something in Wren’s chest settled. Percy surged forward again, kissing Wren softly and sweetly—and while the sweet would eventually become something else the moment Wren had him properly alone, it was enough for now.
CHAPTER TWENTY
He hadn’t really been sure what to expect when they got back to Wren’s, but sitting on the sofa in his empty condo with Mouse draped across their laps hadn’t quite been it. Wren had seemed on the verge of desperate—sort of the way Percy had been feeling—so he’d expected to be stripped down, put on his knees, and ravaged.
And he most definitely wouldn’t have minded that.
In fact, it was what he’d thought he wanted until they were doing this, and then he realized how badly he’d needed to just exist in Wren’s space without expectation or the need to perform. Everything up to that point had felt like they were running on stolen time, so he’d needed to take as much of Wren as he possibly could in the shortest amount of time before it all ended.
This was the first time Percy didn’t feel like it was all going to come crashing down around him.
Wren tapped him on the shoulder, and Percy looked over. ‘What are you thinking?’ he signed—he was pretty sure he signed.
Percy shrugged. ‘Nothing.’ A lie, and he didn’t want that, so he shook out his hands, then said, ‘You.’
‘Thinking about me?’ Wren clarified.
Percy nodded, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. ‘Sorry. Not enough signs.’
Wren reached out and grabbed his wrist, lifting Percy’s hand to press a soft kiss to the center of his palm. “It’s okay,” Wren said aloud. “You’ll get there.”
Percy nodded. “I know. I want to be there now, but it takes time, and I haven’t had the chance to focus.”
“Which is my fault,” Wren said.
Percy shook his head quickly. “It’s not. It’s?—”
“It is and it isn’t. I was the wrong kind of distraction.”
That made Percy’s heart hurt. “Nothing about you is wrong.”
Closing his eyes in a slow blink, Wren shuffled down a little lower against the cushions and wrapped his free arm around Mouse’s neck. The dog gave a quiet humph and laid his chin on Wren’s chest.
“Nothing about me is wrong. But the way I’ve treated you—the way I treated a lot of people in my past—that is. I’m a grown adult, and it doesn’t matter how confused I was about myself. I could have chosen to handle everything better. I should have treated you with the tenderness you deserve.” Percy’s heart ached as Wren took in a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. “I have to own that. I’ve been patting myself on the back for being honest with people, but being honest doesn’t absolve me from the pain I knew I was causing. And from letting myself think that it was fine because you’d just…get over it.”
That hurt to hear, as much as Percy needed it. “I understand,” he rasped.
Wren looked over, his face shattered, and he picked up Percy’s hand once more, kissing the backs of his knuckles. “I am so sorry, beautiful.”
“I accept?—”
“No,” Wren said, cutting him off. He squeezed Percy’s hand before letting it go. “Not yet. I can’t really explain it, but I’m not ready for you to forgive me. I need time to prove to myself and to you that I will be better.”
Percy cocked his head to the side. He understood—and he didn’t. He’d never fully grasp what it was like to live in Wren’s body or in his mind. He wouldn’t know the feeling of belonging, but not enough. At least, not in ways that Wren did. And he’d never know the conflict that came with it. The only thing he could do was be there and trust that when Wren said he planned to stay this time, he meant it.
