Page 87 of Wear It Like a Crown

Right, where to even start? Tucking himself further into Tristan’s side, Joshua took a sip of his spiked juice before he began slowly, a little unsteadily. “So I just learned—I went to see Leo just before I came here. And he lived on the streets for a while. Born a noble, went to Eton with us.”

“Shit, really?” Surprise plain in his tone, Tristan’s arm tightened around Joshua’s waist.

“Yes, really. Couple of years above us. He was on the football team, actually.” Joshua took a measured breath. “Anyway, his parents… I guess they kicked him out, pretty much, when they learned he was gay. And then he lived on the streets.”

“Holy fuck. Must have been tough.” There was no judgment in Tristan’s voice, just concern. Joshua closed his eyes and took a moment to weigh his next words, speaking quietly, only just loud enough to translate over the music in the background.

“Must have been, yes. So that’s what he confirmed, but I also think… I think he might have, like—” His intake of air caught in his throat. “Sold his—I think he might have worked as a callboy. To get by.”

Tristan hissed through his teeth. When Joshua lifted his head, blinking, and met Tristan’s eyes, he appeared speechless for once. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, frowning. Joshua could empathise.

Several seconds passed before Tristan settled on, “Did you ask him?”

“No.” Dropping his head back down on Tristan’s shoulder, Joshua wound his fingers into Tristan’s T-shirt. His voice came out even lower than before, a small, helplessly rough whisper. “What if I’m wrong? I mean, this isn’t my—I can’tforcehim to tell me something like that.”

“Jesus fucking Christ on a stick,” Tristan said, heartfelt, and Joshua snorted.

“Basically.” He paused. “Maybe I am wrong. But he keeps saying that someone like him can’t be with someone like me. And some other things he said… It all fits. It’s, like… It seems so unlikely, but if I look at all the clues together…” He raised a hand and dropped it again. “It somehow seems even less likely that they’re not connected.”

Again, Tristan was silent for a moment, then he said, “So that’s why you asked me all this stuff. About Kels.”

“I didn’t mean to offend. Sorry. Ireallydidn’t mean—I just don’t know what to think. Like, at all.” Joshua cleared his throat, but his voice still came out in a thin rasp. He felt endlessly heavy. “But with the way you reacted, you do think it’s a really bad thing. What Leo maybe did.”

“Not bad in a way that makeshima bad person. Or, like, cheap or something.” Tristan sounded as though he was trying to feel his path through a tunnel, one step after the other. “I think it’s just… the sense of powerlessness. Selling your body like that, for sex, it seems like an act of desperation. It’d make me fuckingsickif Kels ever had to resort to that. I mean, no one would want that for the person they love, or even just care about. Or for anyone ever, I reckon.”

Joshua tried to recall what Leo had said in the van—something about choices, about not being a victim. “But it doesn’t necessarily mean weakness, does it? It could still be a choice. What if it made sense at the time? What if he made decisions that he wouldn’t make today, but he was young and dumb and needed the money? I think…” Joshua’s lungs constricted. “I think he’d really hate it if I pitied him.”

Tristan blew out a heavy breath. “Honestly? Unless he actually enjoyed what he did, it’d be hard not to pity him at least a little. Because those must have been some tough circumstances he faced.”

“He didn’t enjoy it,” Joshua said immediately.

It was barely out when he wondered how he could possibly know that, but… somehow, he did. He had all the pieces, really. He had a collection of little moments which—God, which assembled into a mosaic that madesense. There was Leo’s early claim that he’d believed sex to be overrated, and then… Oh, and also, how disinterested he’d seemed in relationships, like someone who’d lost all illusions.Where I come from, the only currencies are money, sex and power. More often than not, they’re one and the same.

No. Leo hadn’t enjoyed it.

But then, there was also the way he’d reacted to Joshua’s touch that night—how he’d opened up and strained into every kiss, shaking as he’d fought to stay still while Joshua had sucked him off in the bath.Want to stay inside you forever. Want you to.

Leo was in love with Joshua.

Oh God. Leo was inlovewith him.

He’d said so, and Joshua had been an arse about it. He’d told Leo it could hardly be true when Leo didn’t act like it, when he wouldn’t trust Joshua with the whole truth about himself. If Joshua was right in what he suspected, he couldn’t possibly blame Leo for struggling to come clean. This was… massive.

Tristan squeezing his hip was what brought Joshua out of his thoughts. He startled and glanced at Tristan’s profile. “Sorry, what?”

“I asked why you think that,” Tristan said. “That he didn’t enjoy it.”

“Because of the way he acted when we had sex, like it was… like he was almost shocked sometimes, at how good it was? At how it could be… mutual? And trusting.” Sitting up a little straighter, Joshua pulled one leg underneath him on the bench. His skin felt brittle. “Like, I’m not sure he’d ever laughed during sex before. He seemed so surprised by it. And he was all… uncertain, but also confident about technical things. Like, there’s—he didn’t expect me to prep him. He thought he’d have to do it himself, like it was—fuck. I should have realised. Why didn’t I?—”

“Because you didn’t know,” Tristan cut into the sudden rush of words tripping out of Joshua’s mouth.

But I should have.

Joshua choked on air. He coughed until his throat felt dry, his face pressed against Tristan’s neck, Tristan hugging him close and patting his back. Joshua’s eyes were burning, and he squeezed them shut, his breathing evening out.

“If he’d enjoyed himself back then,” he managed, “he wouldn’t be saying that a guy like him can’t be with a guy like me. He wouldn’t be hiding his past. He wouldn’t be trying to help some street kids make their way out, to make better choices than he did.”

“So essentially,” Tristan’s voice was low and serious, filled with awe, “he’s a guy who went through hell and dragged himself out by his own bootstraps.”