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After the charity event, everything changes. Austen and I manage to avoid any mention of the word ‘fake’ when it comes to what we’re doing. With every kiss and touch of his hand, I fall even harder for him.
He’s become my muse in every sense of its meaning. I think of Austen nonstop, so it stands to reason that every note, every lyric I write for the new album has undertones of my love for him. It can’t be avoided.
And in the most unrepentant manner, I play these songs for him. I don’t admit that they're about him. About us.
This is all too new for me to go around declaring how strongly I feel. He’d run for the hills if he knew. No doubt he didn’t sign up for any of this to become real.
Plus, there's the entire issue of Tennyson. My best friend isn’t going to take kindly to me being with Austen. Not in a permanent way. I can’t see how he’d go for it.
He’s avoided looking at pictures of us kissing, and we keep to ourselves the little bit of time he’s around us. But the urge to hold Austen, to keep him close, bears down on me more and more as time goes on.
I’m torn between wanting to rush into the future to see how things pan out and slowing down this train car we’re speeding in to enjoy every second we have. I don’t want to wake up in six months heartbroken as I wonder why I didn’t do more when I could have.
“You ready for this?” Tennyson asks, interrupting my negative thoughts.
I turn in my seat to face my friend. He’s sitting beside me in a mostly empty airport terminal. Strange, I know, but that’s what happens during a red-eye flight sometimes. Tennyson swears it’s the best move given Austen and I are becoming somewhat celebrities in our own right.
“Ready to see my amazing niece and her two cool dads? Heck yes!”
“And my kind of boring uncle who is somehow less boring thanks to Bailey.”
“How is that going by the way? We haven’t talked much since the holidays. You didn’t give me much to go on about how you felt about him with someone so young,” I prod.
Tenn smirks as he looks out the windows across from us. It’s too dark to see much besides the lights of the planes and the glow of the runway beacons.
“I’m good with it. He’s happy, which is all I truly care about. Bailey was cool. Really fucking young, though he didn’t act like it. I think that’s why Uncle K was all about him. Bailey’s got an old soul.”
Tennyson and Austen’s uncle fell in love with one of his students this past year. They had some kind of secret relationship thing that turned very public along the way. Since Bailey was a student at the college Kelvin teaches at, they were worried it would blow up into something more. Nothing like an ethics committee and the risk of being fired to make a man tremble.
Granted, Kelvin is much like his nephews in the sense that he could not have given a fuck less about the college once his heart was set on Bailey. Having known Kelvin for years and then meeting Bailey recently, I can see how they’d just fit.
“I’m glad it’s all good. Would have hated for something like that to come between the two of you.”
He hums beside me, his gaze leaving the window to fall on Austen’s sleeping form on my other side. The look he gives his brother is pure brotherly affection. I knew it from the moment we met that Tenn was protective of Austen. After a few minutes, I understood why.
The younger Page brother isn’t meant for everyone. Some would say he’s an acquired taste even — given his grumpy demeanor. People flock to Tennyson, while they’re more cautious with Austen.
In the face of his reluctance, I found myself fascinated. While he would be considered a storm cloud by others, Austen Page is a ray of sunshine in my world. I couldn’t look at him too closely, lest I be burned by his beauty and goodness. But I also couldn’t look away, because there was nothing quite as inspiring in my mind.
“You know,” Tenn starts slowly, his words dragging out, “if there was something more to this, then I’d be fine with that too. I’m not saying there is. Just that if there was, I’d be ok.”
I don’t confirm or deny his accusation. He’s not going to pull the information out of me when Austen is asleep and can’t give his input. Though knowing him, he’s likely to tell me I don’t care if he knows or seems obvious to me.
Tennyson’s phone goes off, so he dives into replying to whatever late-night message he’s getting. He stands and stalks off to deal with whatever it is. I’m too stunned by his insinuation to even inquire who might be trying to talk to him this late. My mind won’t go there. Not yet anyway. Maybe later, after I’ve had a few minutes to panic in peace.
Not that I’ll get much peace anytime this week. We’re going to be surrounded by friends and family during the entire break since the elementary school’s and the local college’s schedules lined up perfectly with Austen’s. That puts all three of us, my niece Star, her dad Smith, his partner Zach, Uncle Kelvin, and his boyfriend Bailey in the same place. Because of course my dumbass booked a large Airbnb space for us to gather at.
In my defense, I figured us being in one spot would be handy. We could all have our own little spaces to be by ourselves, while also having large living areas to gather in so we can eat and relax as a group.
Too bad I did all that before my best friend hinted at knowing I’m obsessed with his brother.
The speaker overhead goes off to announce our flight. It’s loud enough that it startles Austen awake. His groggy eyes meet mine instantly.
“Hey,” he grumbles. “That us?”
I nod as I fight to not get hard at the sound of his morning voice. We’ve snuck around a few times since the night of the charity event, but we haven’t made it much past hand jobs and an almost blow job on my end. Almost because we heard Tennyson belting a Blink-182 song outside the door as he hunted for his keys. His terrible singing saved me from being caught on my knees with his brother’s dick in my mouth.
While Tennyson hasn’t been around a ton, neither has Austen. Between work and school, he’s too busy to sit around with me. And while I might want to devour him whole, I refuse to take advantage of his exhaustion for a fun time.
