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Dmitri’s smile was as easy as the truth. “Better. I finished my first semester with all Bs—even though I totally bombed my English final. And my aunts aren’t being a pain about Christmas. And well, I guess I’m in love.”
Talia snorted a laugh. “Youguess? God, you are the worst.”
“Wrong,” came Adam’s voice as he came around the table with Knox at his heels. Knox gave them all a grin before he knelt down, and after a moment of tense silence, the table shifted, and then stabilized. “There’s only one person here who gets that title, and it’s not Dmitri. Or Birdie. Or me.”
Talia flipped him off, and Adam grinned toothily.
“Did you get something to eat?” Adam asked without taking his eyes off his partner.
Dmitri laughed quietly. “Talia gave me a…suf…uh…”
“Sufganiya,” Adam corrected absently. “What about actual dinner?”
Dmitri’s laugh was louder this time, and Adam’s gaze darted over to him. “Roman told me you were secretly your bubbe deep down, and I think he was right.”
He half expected Adam to be sarcastic, or even a little angry. Instead, Adam’s eyes went very soft and a little misty for a long moment. After a beat, he cleared his throat and turned back to Knox. “Thanks for the help. I owe you.”
Knox tipped him a wave. “No problem. Dmitri…youcan thank me later.”
With that, he turned on his heel, and Adam frowned. “That was cryptic.”
“That was probably Raphael,” Dmitri said. “He told me to come over here to occupy myself while he took care of this surprise thing he hasn’t been at all subtle about. I figured it had something to do with Knox.”
“One of his fucking weird sculptures, probably,” Talia mused.
Adam lifted a brow. “Raphael actually likes his boyfriend.”
Dmitri was immediately distracted from the conversation by the sight of his lover rolling through a crowd of people. His chair knocked a couple of them out of the way, but Raphael’s gaze was on him and didn’t move until he reached the table. Dmitri was already up, crossing the distance, and he was accepted into a kiss, his back aching from bending over, but finding every single second worth it.
“I’m ready to go home,” Raphael murmured.
Dmitri nodded. He waved a quick goodbye, and it wasn’t until he was in the car holding Raphael’s hand that he realized he hadn’t asked about the gift. Being with Raphael was enough, and though he’d appreciate whatever it was, knowing this was exactly enough meant everything.
24
Raphael didn’t meanto be nervous. The design was personal, and maybe a little silly, but it made absolute sense. Wilder had carefully created the little holiday cake to go with it—homemade-Twinkies filled with cream and a little message written on the top congratulating his lover on a job well done. Raphael wanted to celebrate every single moment, and maybe not always with gifts and cake—hell, maybe not even with gas station Twinkies, but he wouldn’t let another moment go by without paying attention.
As much as he’d implicitly trusted Diego when he said Knox could produce what he was looking for, Raphael couldn’t help himself from being a little…unsure the moment Knox opened the box to display what was supposed to be a Twinkie on a leather cord. And itwas, if he squinted, and stood back, and cocked his head to the side.
A little closer and…well… it looked kind of like a dick.
A step closer than that, and…
“It looks like a silver turd, Iknow,” Knox groaned, and Raphael couldn’t help his short, almost hysterical bark of laughter. “I made like six versions, and this is the best one.”
Raphael was torn between throwing it into the forge fire and cherishing it for life—and he went with the latter, in the end. He accepted Knox’s poorly done gift-wrap, tucked it into his pocket, then convinced Dmitri to abandon the market to drive them home.
He hadn’t expected the hand-job a few seconds after walking in, but that had not gone unappreciated. Dmitri was almost never hard, but he was quite often up for dragging Raphael over the edge, drawing out his pleasure like he was feeding off it.
Dmitri would kiss him after, long slow strokes of his tongue, and basked in the moment for as long as Raphael would have him. Which was just short of forever. They made it to the bathroom after so Raphael could clean up, unsteady on his feet but happy to abandon his cumbersome chair to the corner of the room.
Dmitri surreptitiously helped keep him balanced as they washed up and brushed their teeth, and then Raphael sent Dmitri to the bed as he dug around his discarded pants for the surprise he’d been tormenting his lover with. He tripped two steps into his journey to Dmitri’s side, so he stuck the box between his teeth and crawled until he was up on the duvet and being dragged into another series of kisses.
“Enough,” he finally said, laughing as he pulled back.
Dmitri looked at him through hooded eyes. “I like kissing you.”
“And I like it too. More than,” Raphael said, stroking his face. That wasn’t a lie. Every second he got to stare at his lover—touch him, hold him, press their bodies together—it was never really enough. The week before, Dmitri had seen Raphael seize for the second time, and for the first time, he wasn’t sent away. Raphael was moody as ever, but he relaxed into Dmitri’s tender care, and his sharp edges were dulled with whispered words and his refusal to be moved.
