Page 67 of Wear It Like a Crown

No. She wouldn’t—not with the way she’d turned to ice, voice like cold-wrought iron, when she’d told him that homosexuality was anabomination, waswrong, and that those who lived it were rightfully shunned in polite circles. She hadn’t lifted a hand to defend him against his father, had watched in silent agreement as he’d shoved Leo into the edge of a door and made him choose between the honour of their family and the misconstrued path he had set out for himself.

Well, Leo had made his choice. The bruises had faded after a week; it had taken a year for the streets of London to become his home. It had taken longer until he’d stopped listening for his sisters’ voices when drifting off to sleep.

Charlotte and Rosalind. Had they moved out by now, built lives for themselves? Did they attend university, maybe even nearby? Did they keep in regular contact with their parents, or had they found a way to escape the tight clutch of expectations, of rules and commands?

Leo flinched when the kettle whistled.

It was glaringly loud in the quiet flat, and while he jumped to turn it off, he wasn’t quick enough; barely a minute later he caught the sound of movement, feet whispering over the wooden floor. Shit, he wasn’t ready to face Joshua. Busying himself with measuring out tea into a pot, he kept his back to the door.

“G’morning,” Joshua mumbled, consonants soft-washed with sleepiness. Leo’s stomach clenched around nothing and he glanced over his shoulder to find Joshua lingering in the doorway, naked and dishevelled, eyes hazy and greengreengreen. God, this wasn’tfair.

Somehow, Leo managed to work up a smile. He returned his focus to pouring boiling water into the pot. “Morning.”

Joshua padded closer, swaying in indecision for an instant before he hooked his chin over Leo’s shoulder. Nuzzling in, he tucked his face against Leo’s neck, a smile brightening his voice. “Make me a cuppa as well?”

Everything was awful. Leo fought not to lean back into Joshua’s warmth, overly aware of how he was wearing Joshua’s shirt—it had been a thoughtless move when he’d grabbed it off the floor, a betrayal by his own subconsciousness that Joshua was bound to read as an unspoken confirmation. An invitation. Leo’s throat felt raw as he swallowed, and he settled for a simple nod.

Gently, he unwound himself from Joshua under the pretence ofgrabbing a second cup, then fetched milk from the fridge. On the edge of his vision, he caught the way Joshua’s posture stiffened, a mild awkwardness to it when he scrubbed a hand through his hair.

“So, um. Last night was, like…” Hesitation coloured Joshua’s words. “Really nice?”

Leo took great care in pouring milk into the cup he’d chosen for himself, added a few drops to Joshua’s cup as well, just the way he liked it. Leo’s hands shook just slightly, but his voice didn’t. “Yeah, it was fun,” he said, and didn’t give in to the confessions scraping against his palate, tickling his gag reflex.

I’ve never laughed with anyone during sex. I’ve never touched anyone like that, never kissed anyone like that. Never wanted to.

I’m stupidly, blindly, impossibly in love with you.

“Well, good.” Joshua sounded emboldened, and Leo was too weak to resist glancing over just quickly, just for a blink of an eye, to find Joshua still unfairly naked. He was half-hard, completely casual about it, and Leo snagged his gaze away.

No. Not again. Falling into bed with him once had been one time too many.

How did Joshua not feel vulnerable? Or did he? Either way, he drew himself up straight, head tilted as he stared at the side of Leo’s face until Leo couldn’t ignore it, had to meet his gaze. Only then did Joshua continue, the hopeful tilt to his mouth so very painful. “So, I thought that if you want… It could be more?Wecould be more. You’re really—I think we could be great together.”

In a kinder, happier world, Leo could have been the lucky guy by Joshua’s side.

This wasn’t that fairy tale, though. Joshua wasn’t Prince Charming, and Leo wasn’t a damsel in distress, wasn’t a cursed blue-blood or a wronged stepchild locked away in some dungeon.

Averting his gaze, he stepped around Joshua to check on the tea. It hadn’t been three minutes yet, not even close, but time was crawling. “You don’t even know me, Joshua.” It came out flat, toneless. “You said so yourself.”

“Not true. I said there are a lot of basicfactsI don’t know about you.” Joshua sucked in a breath, loud in the overwhelming silence thatloomed wherever Leo turned. “I did not say I don’t knowyou.” Crossing his arms, Joshua appeared smaller, confidence stolen. Leo wished he would put some clothes on.

For a long while, silence reigned. Joshua ended it.

“I know what you taste like,” he said softly. “I know that your eyes go all soft when you drink tea in the morning. That you miss your sisters even though you barely talk about them. That those street kids look up to you like you’re their hero. And I know that there’s something…” He paused, daylight sharpening the lines of his frown. “I know that there’s something you’re not telling me. Like, something about your past. And you’re so defensive of those kids, almost like you know what it’s like, and I think?—”

No.

“Don’t,” Leo cut in, harsh and jagged. “I’m not some bloody project, okay? There’s no need for you to fucking save me.”

“I don’t want to save you. I just wantyou.” Joshua dropped his arms. Hurt was obvious on his face, and Leo wanted to take it back, wanted to mould himself to Joshua’s front. He wanted to kiss Joshua, touch him, take him apart inch by inch until Joshua’s breath came out in tiny gasps and he wouldn’t know how to form a sentence anymore, until he was pliant and loose, smiling at Leo with happiness bright in his eyes.

Leo inhaled. “It’s not going to happen, all right? Us.” He gestured between them and hated everything about this, about himself. “It’s just not.”

For much too long, Joshua remained silent, still. Then he took a step back, bumping into the work surface, and shook his head. His eyes were too wide, his posture too vulnerable. God, Leo wished he could wrap him up in a blanket and apologise, say he hadn’t meant a word. He wanted to scream.

Instead, he went to pour the tea.

“So this is it?” Joshua asked from behind him. “Are you really—lookat me. The way we clicked, did you really not… I’ve never clicked with anyone like that.”