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Victor opened his mouth to say something, but his body jolted, and he reached into his pocket for his phone. Emil watched a series of emotions play out in his expressions, and then he looked up with the smallest grin. “You should go get your stuff ready.”
Emil winced. Victor didn’t seem angry, but the words were so dismissive, and he had a feeling Oliver was behind it. Maybe he was trying to get Victor home for a quickie before the chaos of the road, and Emil swallowed down his furious envy.
“Yeah. Yes. I’ll see you at the airport?”
Victor was still smiling as he turned and started for the restaurant’s front door. “Yep. Oliver and I will be there.”
Emil tried for a smile and failed, but Victor wasn’t looking at him, so he didn’t feel too bad. He did his best not to think too much about Renzo and how much time he was losing now, but it was damn near impossible to shake out of his funk.
Early relationships were never easy—at least, as far as he knew. Hell, Victor and Oliver spent seven months apart before crashing back together. But he couldn’t allow this to be a death sentence. He slid behind the wheel of his car, then grabbed his phone.
Emil: Can I see you before I go? I don’t have a lot of time, but I don’t want to be gone for weeks without kissing you goodbye.
He waited a minute, then two. Five passed with no answer, and he figured if Renzo was trying to tell him something, it was coming through loud and clear. Whatever happened on Christmas, and Emil’s inability to just break the silence between them and fix whatever went wrong, was enough. Renzo had been through the wringer, and Emil couldn’t blame him for being so shy.
It was what it was.
The back of his throat felt hot and thick, and he tried to swallow past it as he finally put his car into gear and headed for his condo.
* * *
There were few moments in Emil’s life that he could say he was genuinely taken by surprise. It wasn’t that he was particularly aware of his surroundings. It was that he’d shut himself off and stopped really caring what was going on around him.
It had started off as a defense mechanism—something his therapist was teaching him about now, years too late. Eventually, it just turned into a habit and a way of protecting himself from ever being hurt or used.
The first time he’d ever been truly floored was when Victor had opened up to him about how much pain he was in, and Emil was overwhelmed by the guilt for keeping the affair a secret.
The second was shortly after that, when Victor forgave him without asking him to grovel.
The third was right then at the top of the stairs, in the doorway of his condo, where the only person in the world he wanted to see that day was sitting. Renzo was curled into his thick winter coat, hunched on the top stair, looking a little uneasy as Emil just…watched him, standing on the bottom step like he was rooted to the ground.
Then Renzo cleared his throat and hopped to his feet, and Emil began climbing up toward him with so much purpose that not even God himself would have been able to stop him. Renzo’s arms were open, and Emil found himself crowding Renzo back against his front door, kissing him like it was the only thing keeping him alive.
“Hey,” Renzo said with a laugh after long moments of offering his warm tongue and plush lips. “Hi, sunshine,” he added, his voice softer and sweeter.
Emil took in a trembling breath, then dropped his forehead to Renzo’s shoulder. “Victor and Oliver knew, didn’t they? That you were coming here?”
“Yes. I thought Victor would tell you. I didn’t get your message until a couple minutes ago, and I decided it was better to just…” Renzo shrugged. “Surprise?”
After a second, Emil burst into laughter and surged in for another kiss to hide it. “Surprise is fucking right. But you know I don’t have a lot of time.”
“I know,” Renzo said. “But I was made aware of my fuckup today, and I needed to make sure I saw you before you left.”
Emil frowned, then shivered and realized they were still standing in the freezing cold. He reached past Renzo and tapped his door code into the pad above the lock, then pushed them both inside where it was warm and a bit more forgiving than his concrete stoop.
Renzo bit his lip as Emil shrugged off his jacket, then did the same when Emil offered to take his. The way Renzo looked so uncertain, like he didn’t know if he was welcome, was killing Emil.
“I’m really sorry,” Renzo said.
Emil’s frown marred his forehead. “What the hell could you possibly be sorry for?”
“Leaving you in silence.” Renzo licked his lips as those words hit Emil square in the chest. “Oliver explained some stuff to me today, and I think I understand you a little better than I did before.”
Emil had no idea how to respond to that, so he gestured for Renzo to follow him into his living room. It was sparse, mostly unpacked, but it still wasn’t decorated. It was as sterile and lacking in personality as his last place, but this time, it wasn’t on purpose. If life hadn’t decided to fuck with him again, he’d probably have spent the next few weeks trying to make his place feel a bit more like him.
Whatever that was.
“Amazing view,” Renzo said softly behind him, dragging Emil from his thoughts.
