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Percy laughed very softly, wrapping one arm over the top of Wren’s. “Entomologist.”
“How do you even know that?” Wren asked.
Percy leaned his head back, and in the glowing light of the moon, Wren could see his smile. “My mates and I used to do a lot of pub quizzes back when we were young. My biggest sixth-form rebellion.”
“Sometimes you say things that make no sense, but fuck, I love it,” Wren told him with a smile. He pulled away, only to turn Percy around and cradle his face, and then he kissed him. The kiss lingered, soft and careful, then growing deeper until Wren was walking him backward to a tree.
Percy hit the trunk with a dull thud, and Wren deepened the kiss until he knew they were seconds from going too far.
“These little bugs are in their toddler phase. I don’t want to traumatize them,” Wren whispered against Percy’s lips.
Percy laughed and traced a touch down his cheek. “I’m obsessed with you.”
Wren went warm from his face to his toes. “I have a second surprise.” When Percy stiffened, Wren said, “I’m not proposing. If we ever choose to get married, it’ll be for practical reasons.”
Percy let out a small puff of air. Wren knew it was relief. Percy had been very clear about how he felt regarding marriage, and it was yet one more reason they were perfect together. But nerves started to gather in his chest because they hadn’t really talked about this.
At the start, they did. When Wren was trying to repair the damage he’d caused and he was trying to express himself, he’d told Percy he never wanted him to go far. That he needed him close.
But they were both men who liked their space, and Percy seemed so…happy.
Wren swallowed heavily, then shoved his hand into his pocket and held the small silver key. He curled his fingers around it, letting the teeth bite into his palm enough to hurt. The pain kept him present, grounded. Then, he let it go.
“I like what we have,” Wren said. “You allow me to be myself. You love me for who I am, and no one has ever done that for me before. Not completely.” And that was no lie. Even his closest friends had some expectations that he be a certain way—that he fit some mold they’d created in their minds.
But Percy never had.
Wren closed his eyes and took a breath, then switched to his own language, keeping his hands close between them so Percy could make out the signs even in the very dim light. “You and me make sense. You are the only person who will ever make total sense to me.” He paused to make sure Percy was following.
Percy nodded, but he said nothing, signed nothing.
Wren put his hand back into his pocket and pulled out the key. He felt Percy’s lungs expand with his near-silent inhale. “We don’t need to live together full time, but I wouldn’t hate it if we did. I’m happy exactly as we are, but I need you to know that where you are is home. And that means you belong in my life where and when you want to be.”
Percy closed his eyes and bowed his head, and for a moment, Wren thought he’d gotten it wrong.
And then, he knew he’d gotten it right because Percy grabbed him and he was kissed, and kissed, and kissed.
Percy eventually slowed and tipped Wren’s chin up. “We will always be fundamentally different, but I’ve never in my life felt so safe and so wanted. I’ve avoided this for so long now because I never want you to think that I expect you to feel the way I do.”
He was scared. Oh, he was scared, but Wren knew what was coming, and in spite of the fact that Percy was right—that he didn’t feel love in the same way he did—he wanted to hear it. He licked his lips, then nodded.
“I’m in love with you,” Percy said. “And I need you to understand that I am complete without you feeling it back. I am happy. I’m so, so happy.”
Wren bowed his head against Percy’s chest and let the larger man just hold him. Nothing more, nothing less. He’d told Percy more than once that he loved him because he did. He loved Percy both the same and differently than he loved his other friends. And he knew it wasn’t love the way people expected.
He knew others might find him cruel because they believed Percy deserved equality in ways that Wren would never be able to provide. But in the end, he just felt sorry for the ones who would never understand what it felt like to find a soul mate. Not the bullshit, wildly in love, rom-com kind of crap they showed on TV.
But the kind of connection where one soul recognized another for who they were and just how profoundly they belonged. Wren had more than one in his life.
Ravi, who was his best friend, who gave him words for things he never thought he’d be able to understand. Luke, who gave him a connection to a piece of himself he thought his parents had destroyed. And Ananda for being the only other person who understood his humor and his spite and loved him for it. Caleb, who was more than just his brother now. He was someone Wren would die for—and probably kill for. And Bodhi, who had shown Wren where to find his strength and how to stop letting go.
And now there was Percy. His beacon of light that led him home. The man who knelt for him, and eventually, the man who waited for him. The man who let him be all sides of himself without asking for more or less. The man Wren could close his eyes and see three dozen years into the future.
Turning his head, Wren watched the little twinkling sparks through the tall grass, and he let out a soft sigh. Content—that was the word bouncing around his chest. It was kind, and it was soft, and perfect. Percy pushed fingers into Wren’s hair and held him tightly like that.
“It’s enough,” Wren whispered.
Percy hummed, the vibration rushing through Wren, and he nodded.
It was.
It was absolutely, and completely, enough.
The End
