by Alex Jane
Nathaniel matched the pressure as they held onto each other a second longer before he released him. "Well. Goodnight, then."
"Goodnight."
When Gabriel closed his bedroom door behind him, he realized he had no memory of having walked there. He changed his clothes in a daze, put out the light, then sat on the end of his bed, staring out into the night through the open curtains. If he didn't know better, he'd think he was in shock. The idea of a stiff drink certainly appealed, if only as the vapors might snap him out of his stupor.
His mind drifted back to when they were boys, before the accident, when everything had seemed so simple. At fourteen, life had been so easy. He'd known he loved Nathaniel then in a way that he didn't love anyone else. Every time Nathaniel had looked his way and smiled, whenever their hands had brushed against each other, when Nathaniel would shove him and they would race around the place, Reuben laughing at their antics as they chased around until one or the other launched a tackle that had them spilling over, panting and laughing in the grass, Gabriel had known he would love Nathaniel forever. It was as easy as breathing and just as vital. It mattered not whether Nathaniel felt the same for him. Gabriel took each kind word, each offering of a shared apple, or ruffle of his hair to be all the affection he would ever need.
After all, Nathaniel was six years his senior. A man and an Alpha who had been expected to mate and marry before long. Reuben had already started badgering his friend about his reluctance to attend any of the dances or picnics designed to introduce people, but Nathaniel would only shrug him off with a smile and tell him to mind his own business. Toward the end, in the weeks before the accident, Reuben had been less lighthearted in his teasing, and the line of Nathaniel's jaw had been tense with the strain of keeping his tongue. Then Reuben had been gone and Nathaniel too, and Gabriel's heart didn't know what hurt worse.
He'd grieved for them both, resisted his mother's gentle efforts to have him socialize that he might find a companion to ease his broken heart as he grew older. He'd never told her of his feelings for Nathaniel, even at the end, as she lay dying. He wished he'd had the courage, but he'd been too afraid of making her last moments worse than they already had been. The idea that he might spend his days, if not lonely then certainly less than content, with his heart bound to a crippled man who had cut himself out of their lives would have hurt her terribly.
He himself had grown used to the gnawing emptiness that followed him around, so much so that he'd hardly noticed it until coming to live with Nathaniel. The ache had burned bright then, hot to the touch, being so close to the source of all his childish romantic notions and still, even after all these years, unable to fulfill them.
But now…
Gabriel drew in a shaky breath and looked out at the stars overhead, the black trees moving in the breeze against the indigo sky. If the moon had been full, he fancied he might have been able to see the glint of the glasshouse winking up at him like a jeweled starfish from the depths of a dark pool. But the moon was almost snuffed out, only a faint fingernail of light in the sky remaining. It wouldn't be long until it was full again—the buck moon was coming, and with it new growth, so they said. Gabriel asked himself if he was ready for it and found he didn't have an answer. Not then, and not when he lay his head down on his pillow some hours later.
When dawn broke, he was still awake. He might have napped, but he felt as if he'd been watchful all night. Looking in his glass when he went to the washstand to rinse his face, the dark rings under his eyes and his pallid skin seemed to confirm it. Splashing his cheeks with water, he dressed in his work clothes and headed out into the morning rather than lie in bed any longer. It was even too early for Abel to be up so he worked by himself, tending the animals and walking the traps. With two rabbits in hand, he trudged back to the kitchen, expecting to start breakfast alone, or at least to find Abel there. But when he opened the door to the pleasant aroma of coffee and oatcakes, it was Priscilla who was waiting.
She looked fairly tired herself, still dressed in her wrapper with her unkempt hair tied in a thick unruly braid but conscious enough to be pouring coffee. She frowned when she saw Gabriel and pulled down one of the larger cups from the shelf for him. "You look awful."
Without replying, Gabriel pulled out one of the chairs and slumped into it. He sat rigid, weariness tugging at him but his anxiety still managing to keep him awake. Only the sound of the cup clinking against its saucer stirred him when Priscilla placed it on the table.
Sinking into the chair next to him, her body turning in his direction was the only encouragement she gave him to speak. But it was enough.
"How long?" he asked, his voice croaking despite having cleared his throat.
The way Priscilla's face broke into a grin, he knew he wouldn't have to elaborate. He could only have been talking about Nathaniel's feelings for him.
"Always," she confided. "At least, it feels that way to me." She waited for a moment before asking, "So? Did you make a decision?"
Gabriel wanted to laugh at that. "Decision" implied that he had some sort of choice in the matter. That he could unsee the way Nathaniel cared for him and took pains to show his affection so slightly it appeared he hoped Gabriel wouldn't notice. It implied that the feelings he had himself were somehow optional, that he could shake them off and become indifferent. He hadn't managed that in the face of Nathaniel's absence in the last ten years, so the chances of it happening while they were under the same roof seemed unlikely at best. Had he made a decision? No. Because there was only one thing that he could possibly do.
Looking over at Priscilla's expectant expression, Gabriel smiled slightly and asked, "Does he still have a sweet tooth?" She nodded, and he let the smile expand to a grin, if only to put her out of her misery. "I guess we should stop by a confectioners today in that case."
7
"So, do you have an extensive plan of attack?" Priscilla asked as they juddered along the cobbled streets with Abel sat in front of them, driving the light buggy they had chosen to take that day.
Gabriel shrugged. "Not as such," he said. "I thought I would start in the traditional way, nothing too outlandish, maybe a small gift of some kind." It was more usual for an Alpha to be the one who initiated such things, but Gabriel was taking last night's revelation of the dinner arrangements to be an overture of sorts from Nathaniel.
Priscilla nodded at that, with a considered look in her eye as if what Gabriel was saying had her full approval. "What are you thinking? We could stop at Fenton's and choose a new tiepin or would you prefer something more demonstrative. A book of lewd verse, perhaps?"
Smiling, Gabriel shook his head. "No, I don't think so. I have some things in mind already."
"Oh, really?" Priscilla said with a glint her eye. "And what might they be?"
But Gabriel only grinned at her. "Don't worry. I have a fair idea of what I'm doing," he said, hoping that the scheming he'd done while lying awake all night would work out in his favor.
The shopping trip didn't last long, although it transpired Priscilla really did have errands to run and the excursion wasn't purely a ruse to get Nathaniel's attention. Abel appeared happy to trail after her, while Gabriel attended to the short list of items he thought might sway the Alpha's affections in his favor. When they met back at the carriage, the stack of boxes Abel was carrying for Priscilla dwarfed that which Gabriel had acquired, but they were both satisfied that the journey had been worthwhile and they would be home in time for lunch.
After returning, Gabriel went about his day much as he had always done. Only once he had gone to Nathaniel's study in the afternoon did he put his strategy, such as it was, into action.
"What is this?"
Gabriel didn't look up from the papers in front of him where he was sitting on the far side of Nathaniel's desk. He knew full well what Nathaniel must be talking about as he'd heard the sound of the desk chair squeaking as his husband had sat down in it, followed by the distinctive rustle of the paper bag le
ft on his desk blotter. It was taking all Gabriel's concentration to calm his rapidly beating heart. Unfortunately, he wasn't doing very well and figured Nathaniel could undoubtedly hear his anxiety in the quiet room. Too late he'd wished to god he'd put something on the gramophone. "What's what?"
"This," Nathaniel said, brandishing the bag between two fingers. He didn't sound cross exactly, more confused by the appearance of such a thing than offended.
"It's licorice," Gabriel said. "I passed a confectioners today when we were in town and remembered how much you used to like it so I got some for you. You always used to buy them and share them with me so I thought I'd return the favor." He looked up to find Nathaniel peering into the bag. "Did I do wrong? Have your tastes changed?"
Nathaniel pressed his lips together as he jostled the bag, making the sweets jump around. "No," he said quietly after a moment. Gabriel found it hard to believe him given the way he was glaring at the candies, and he started to doubt whether he was doing the right thing until Nathaniel spoke again. "You…you don't have to repay me, y'know."
"I know," Gabriel said. "I just wanted to is all."
Nathaniel grunted in such a way that was familiar when he didn't know exactly what to say, so made any old sound. Gabriel took the noise to be gratitude and went back to work with a small smile on his face, only to be interrupted two seconds later by rustling in his ear. He looked over at Nathaniel, amused at the urgent way he was thrusting the bag out to him.
"It won't be the same if you don't share them with me." Nathaniel tried hard to make eye contact and failed. Only when Gabriel took a candy and placed it in his mouth did Nathaniel relax enough to smile and sit back, taking care to leave the bag between them in the center of the desk, as he would when they were boys.
"What are you doing?"
The sauce splashed up as Gabriel dropped the spoon, almost jumping out of his skin. Thankfully, Ruth had had the good sense to force him into wearing an apron while in her kitchen, and he didn't ruin his shirt by getting tomato all over it.
Turning, he glared at the face peering around the kitchen door, suddenly realizing exactly why Ruth always appeared to be in such a foul temper when people were constantly interrupting her when she was cooking. "What does it look like I'm doing, Nate?"
"Where's Ruth?" Gabriel wasn't sure if Nathaniel's forlorn tone was from losing his beloved pack member or simply distress at the thought of Gabriel cooking.
"She's in the garden helping harvest. We're canning tomorrow if you haven't forgotten."
"I haven't, don't worry." Nathaniel was close enough to peer into the large pot Gabriel was stirring. "Is that…?"
"Oma's goulash? Yes. My father decided I was old enough to have the recipe finally. I don't think it'll ever be as good as hers but I can try."
"I loved that goulash," Nathaniel murmured, leaning forward and inhaling with such gusto, Gabriel was slightly afraid he might be inclined to stick his entire head into the bubbling pot.
"I know," he said quietly, bumping Nathaniel with his hip. "It'll be ready for supper. Or it will be if you leave me to work."
"You sure you don't need any help?"
Gabriel turned to berate his husband, but finding their faces so close—a fraction of a measure closer and their lips would be touching—all the air went out of Gabriel's lungs and it took a second or two for him to be able to assert, "Yes. You…you can wash those dishes if you have nothing else to occupy you."
He let a smile creep onto his lips, his body unwavering in the face of Nathaniel's proximity, thinking the man would blush and flee. But Nathaniel being Nathaniel, without giving an inch, he only grinned back and began to roll up his sleeves as he leaned in a hair's breadth closer to whisper, "My pleasure," before turning and limping over to the sink.
Once the immediate danger was over, Gabriel barked out a laugh and went back to stirring to keep his hand from shaking, as Nathaniel dutifully cleared up the mess Gabriel had made.
When the others were done for the day and the food was ready, Gabriel waited until everyone was gathered around the table before he hauled the tureen filled with the thick stew over. He laid out the table with dinner rolls, sour cream, and a mix of fresh cut herbs his father swore by, and insisted the plates not be laid in the place settings but left in a stack that he could serve everyone himself.
Of course, as soon as he reached for the first plate, which would be his husband's, Nathaniel caught his wrist as he had done all those weeks before. This time though, Gabriel didn't flinch.
"Let me," he said gently. "Just this once. Please."
Nathaniel stared up at his defiance, his jaw twitching as he obviously fought with himself to relinquish his grip. Not until Solomon made a pointed remark about how lovely the food smelled to break the tension did Nathaniel slowly release him, not once taking his eyes from Gabriel's.
For a moment, Gabriel thought he might drop the bowl, or the ladle, or both, he was so affected. But he kept his nerve, filling the bowl and placing it in front of Nathaniel without spilling it into his lap. He passed the sour cream and the herbs he knew Nathaniel liked and waited until he was done before going on to serve up plates for the others. Of course, Nathaniel had to have the last word, so to speak. Once Gabriel had ladled out his own portion and before he could stop him, Nathaniel reached over and angrily placed a dollop of sour cream in the middle of Gabriel's dish followed by a sprinkling of herbs. Except when Gabriel looked closer at his expression, it was clear Nathaniel was somewhat overcome rather than angered.
There was something about the stilted way Nathaniel took a spoonful of food, then nodded his approval, that had Gabriel slipping his hand beneath the table to find his husband's. Nathaniel didn't react when Gabriel briefly took his hand, only matching the pressure of his hold on him for a moment before asking Ruth to pass the bread.
Gabriel hoped the whole awkward exchange had gone unnoticed but given the way Priscilla winked at him over her glass of wine, they hadn't been as subtle as he thought.
"Just…just take it." Gabriel was getting exasperated, having to thrust the neat little box in his hand against Nathaniel's chest again in an effort to off-load the thing.
"It's too expensive," Nathaniel said again, from his seat. Or rather, whined. Gabriel hadn't thought it possible for a grown man, let alone an Alpha, to sound so childish. "You shouldn't spend so much money on such things."
"It's my money, I can spend it how I please." Gabriel wasn't offended. Nathaniel knew full well he wasn't the sort of person to squander the housekeeping. He had a monthly allowance from his mother's estate and little to spend it on other than contributions to the household. "Besides, you haven't opened it yet so don't even know what it is." Gabriel looked to the floor to gather himself. It would do no good to get cross when he knew full well it was only Nathaniel's insecurities keeping him from accepting. This wasn't a rejection, he told himself, not yet.
"I don't need to open it. I recognize the wrapping."
"Oh." Gabriel stared at it, unsure of what to do next. Thinking perhaps he had overstepped, he started to withdraw only for Nathaniel's hand to dart up and wrap around the box. Gripping tight for a second, Gabriel let out a sigh and let Nathaniel take it and place it on the desk in front of him. It was agonizing, having to stand there watching him incrementally pull away the brown paper and slide the lid from the box to reveal the contents.
"It's self-filling, see?" Gabriel gestured at the button on the side of the fountain pen. "You depress it here, then release it to suck the ink inside."
"I see." Nathaniel seemed fixated on the item, turning the fountain pen over and over in his hands, making the lamplight glint off the gold finial and pocket clip as he inspected the blue and white marbled surface.
"Thought it might save some time for you if you didn't have to fuss about with the eye dropper. And I was assured it wouldn't leak half as much as the other. I hope you like the color. I thought…I thought it matched your eyes so…but you can exchange it. I'm sur
e. If you'd prefer another."
"Eye."
Gabriel frowned. "Pardon?"
"Eye," Nathaniel repeated, looking up at him, seemingly amused at Gabriel's babbling, and pointed at his face. "I only have the one if you recall."
Without thinking what he was doing, Gabriel reached out and cupped the side of Nathaniel's face, running his thumb across his cheekbone and the scar that interrupted it. The skin was soft there, with only a hint of stubble grazing the lower part of his hand, the puckered skin of the scar little more than a depression in the surface despite its hard appearance. Nathaniel didn't flinch but inhaled abruptly, shocked at the intimate contact. Gabriel almost pulled away but didn't, knowing he'd started this thing and had to see it through. Even if it meant rejection. "I recall just fine," he whispered, looking into the gray, dead eye and seeing nothing but blue. "It will always be blue to me, Alpha. No one will ever persuade me otherwise."
Nathaniel closed his eyes, pressing into Gabriel's touch and raising his hand to lay over Gabriel's fingers briefly, before peeling them off and bringing them to his lips. Kissing the heel of Gabriel's hand, he opened his eyes, then stood. "Thank you. I accept your gift," he said quietly before he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss to Gabriel's cheek.
It was more than a peck; Nathaniel didn't dart away. Instead, it was a firm but loving gesture that startled Gabriel as much as anything. Just the idea of having his husband's lips on his skin had his trousers growing tight and his lungs forgetting how to expand. He half-expected to stumble even as he stood there.
Nathaniel squeezed his hand one last time before he drew back and said quietly, "And thank you for the pen," before he pushed past Gabriel and stole out of the door, leaving Gabriel alone in the study, wondering what had just happened and how in the hell he could get it to happen again.
He needn't have worried. Somehow, what passed between them that night seemed to open, if not a floodgate, then a steady stream of easy affection between them. It became normal for them to touch each other in passing, a squeeze of a hand, or a peck on the cheek, or a simple touch on the shoulder where one had not been before. The exchanges didn't go unnoticed either, with Ruth constantly winking at him and Solomon giving him approving looks often accompanied by a cuff on the shoulder.