Page 48 of Wear It Like a Crown

“Anything for you, Princeling.”

Joshua’s smile widened. Their fingers brushed over the carton, Leo’s cold from the ice cream and Joshua’s warm and dry, a gentle touch to the back of Leo’s hand as he accepted the spoon.

Leo held his breath and counted to three before he smiled back.

They’d intended to watch three episodes, give Joshua and Mo a taste.

Halfway through the first episode, Joshua had sat up a little straighter at a conversation between the Dwarf and the Bastard, glancing at Leo. It had taken Leo a moment to understand that it had been in reaction to the Dwarf’s words—wear it like armour, and it can never be used to hurt you.Leo sent Joshua a private smile and lifted one brow.

At the end of the third episode, Joshua had turned to Leo with wide eyes, voice soft with apprehension. “But what happens to the little boy? He can’t just—they can’t just leave him like that, wishing he was dead. Can they?”

“It’sGame of Thrones, love. You ain’t seen nothing yet.” Leo shook his head and slotted his fingers into the gaps between Joshua’s, retracting his hand after a quick squeeze.

So they’d watched another episode. And then another. By the time the King had died and his son was delightedly preparing his own coronation, Mo had sagged into Nate’s side, his head on Nate’s shoulder, only just awake enough to make a displeased noise each time Joffrey made an appearance. Nate was sitting very still, his gaze fixed on Joshua’s enormous flat-screen TV, as though any movement could endanger the fragile state of things.

Leo knew the feeling. Lack of room on the sofa had pushed him all up into Joshua’s space with their shoulders pressed together, arms bumping each time one of them moved. Light from the screen flickered over Joshua’s face and tangled in his hair, and Leo wanted to chase eachspark with his hands and his mouth. Everything felt like a giant cliché, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to move away. Fuck, when had he agreed to star in a romantic comedy? He wanted out.

He really didn’t want out.

But he should.

When the end credits for the seventh episode filled the screen, Joshua gave a little sigh and raised his arms above his head, stretching. The motion exposed a slice of his stomach, black letters inked into pale skin, and Leo was too tired not to stare just a beat longer than he should. Time to go home, probably.

“Hey, you guys want to crash here?” Joshua’s words dripped like slow-motion rain. “Like, you’d all be back here tomorrow anyway, so it just makes sense, right?”

Stay here. Leo shouldn’t, he really, really shouldn’t; things were already so muddled and the time away would do him some good. Not that he’d be sleeping in Joshua’s room, in Joshua’sbed, but it was still too damn close.

Mo lifted his head by about an inch. “If I’m sharing with you and Tri, you take the middle. He kicks in his sleep. Don’t know how Kels puts up with it.”

“She loves me,” Tristan said. “You should try it sometime.”

“Try what?” Mo asked, his head dropping back down to rest on Nate’s shoulder. “Loving you? Sorry, bro. You’re like a hundred percent too much twink for me.”

Tristan’s tone was offended. “I’ve got some muscle, bitch.” By means of demonstration, he flexed his left arm. In the background, the series’ main title was just fading out.

“You’re scrawny as fuck. Nowthis”—Mo lazily gestured at Nate’s bicep, eyes half-lidded and voice sleepy—“is what I call muscle.”

Even in the dim glow of the screen, Leo could tell that Nate’s cheeks were flushed. He was rather proud that he didn’t burst out laughing, although the impulse became nearly too much when he found Joshua biting down on his bottom lip to stifle a grin, eyes bright. God, Joshua was lovely.

Leo’s distraction was to blame for how he agreed easily when Nate suggested they share the guest room. It did make sense, after all.Especially since the tube had stopped running about an hour ago, and Leo didn’t feel like dragging himself to a night bus or calling a taxi.

It made sense. Really.

He was weirdly charmed to learn that both Tristan and Mo kept toothbrushes at Joshua’s place. The obvious closeness between them, the way they didn’t seem to have any secrets from each other, it was… nice. Really just nice.

For Leo and Nate, Joshua dug out two new toothbrushes, still in their plastic wrapping, and then went to find them sleep shirts. He returned with two that looked soft-washed and well-worn, lingering in the doorway of the guest room to ask whether they needed anything else.

“I think we’re good, man,” Nate told him, while Leo looked around the room that contained a queen-sized bed along with a desk cluttered with various papers and what looked like printouts of articles. Stepping closer, he caught headlines all related to speculation about Joshua’s sexuality. A shelf with books sat beside the desk, and Leo’s gaze slid past spines that looked well-worn, lingering on a few familiar names—Franzen and Pamuk, Machiavelli, Goethe. Some of those had been on the curriculum at Eton, others not. There were children’s classics as well, and he didn’t let himself linger on those.

Leo turned away to give Joshua a smile that had to be edged with tiredness. “Thanks, Princeling. We’ll be fine. See you tomorrow, all right?”

“Okay. Good night.” Still Joshua hesitated for another few seconds before he nodded and left, gently closing the door behind him. The silence that settled in his wake was noticeable, and Leo shot a glance at Nate to find Nate already watching him.

“Think he was waiting for you to take off your top,” Nate said, a sudden grin twitching around his mouth.

“Not funny.” With a sigh, Leo sat down on the bed, the mattress giving under his weight. He hoped it wouldn’t be too soft; he’d slept on a camping mat so often that he’d come to find the floor more comfortable than one of those beds that felt like sinking into a marshmallow.

“Wasn’t meant to be funny.” Nate crossed over to the windows, drawing the curtains. Halfway through he paused to take in the view,and after a moment Leo joined him. Regent’s Canal lay beneath them, water reflecting the distant brightness of the city; most of the houses on the other side were still and quiet, their windows dark. Leo propped both elbows on the windowsill and set his chin on his hands.