It had been a long fucking time since anyone dropped Falcon off at home with just a goodnight kiss and didn’t ghost him immediately.

He’d watched his phone breathlessly for the next couple hours, picking it up just to check he could still see Blane’s profile and his online texting status. It seemed like Blane was the kind of guy he’d taken him for—slow-moving unless pressed, and sincere. Falcon gradually relaxed as he realized that if Blane weren’t interested, he would have told him that straight-up.

Which meant he didn’t want to rush into sex, and that was… kind of sweet. The novelty factor alone kept Falcon interested. That was half the thrill—the anticipation—and he was willing to let Blane get away with it until the second date. Or third. However the hell they were counting these things.

If a blowjob is a first date, and a wine-and-dine evening with just a kiss is the second, do I jump his bones on the third? I don’t know the rule for this.

Falcon was so distracted that he nearly bent the bristles of one of his favorite brushes as he cleaned it in spirits. He cursed under his breath as he realized what his hands were doing. That was the other thing: Blane was on his mind now…

All. The. Time.

It was kind of exhausting, and kind of exhilarating, and he wanted it to continue.

The moment his phone rang, Falcon’s heart soared, and he realized he was hoping it was Blane.

Goddamn. I’ve got it bad.

It wasn’t. He didn’t recognize the number, so he shrugged, thumbed it, and answered. Couldn’t afford to miss a business opportunity. “Hello?”

He’d recognize the snake-oil tones that slid from his phone speaker anywhere. Spencer. It had to be.

“Falcon. Man, I had to ask around for your number. Good to hear you again.”

He couldn’t just hang up in the guy’s face. Falcon’s fuck-you attitude was wrapped in stifling politeness. “Spencer, is it?” he asked casually, like he wasn’t really sure. That ought to make Spencer twitchy. He’d always been easily made jealous.

“Yeah. So I know this is out of the blue, but we’re gonna be at the wedding together.” Spencer’s tone was just as smooth as always. He’d had a great phone sex voice, but his voice was the kind bosses and parents liked, too. God, he was good at sucking up to parents. It was how his own parents had invited him almost into the family and trusted him to take care of him when they “hung out” together.

He sure had. Not that Falcon regretted the fucking, but he could have done without the mindfucking.

“So I heard.”

Spencer blew a sigh between his lips. “So we should, you know. Meet up and talk. I’ve got some things to say, I guess.”

Is he actually trying to apologize?

“We should talk, yeah. We didn’t leave off on a great note,” Falcon said pointedly. Under his words was the stark reminder that he’d told Spencer to fuck off until he was willing to admit he’d been using him.

“Right, yeah. It’ll be awkward, I guess.”

“Not if Rosalina has anything to do with it,” Falcon said, staying determinedly cheery.

“I got the unofficial invite. It said I should get the official one in the mail next week. No mention of whether there’s a plus-one. I hope so. I meant it’d be awkward for us on our own, huh? So we should figure this out.”

He’s not doing this, is he? Falcon didn’t rise to the bait, even with the subtle our thrown in there. “I have no idea,” Falcon told him. “You’d have to ask my sister.”

“Right, right. Well, are you free to have that talk? Drinks?”

Alcohol and Spencer were a bad combination. He got even more obnoxiously straight-acting around his buddies, and then mopey when he was alone. Falcon was not holding him while he sighed about how hard his life was even one more time. “When?”

“Next couple days? I mean, wedding’s pretty soon. Two weeks? Three? That’s real soon. Lucky I wasn’t out of town.” Spencer sounded as self-centered as ever, too.

Yeah, because we were all on the edge of our seats hoping you could come. Falcon rolled his eyes, but he didn’t really think about it before he agreed. May as well get the first unpleasant encounter out of the way with. “Yeah, whatever. Sure. Thursday.”

“Thursday night, yeah? Supper?”

“I dunno, I think I’m busy,” Falcon lied. “We can grab coffee, though. Two?”

“Okay. Sounds great. See you soon.” Just like the old days, there was a hint of suggestion in his tone, but it made Falcon shudder now.

“Yeah. Later.” He hung up and tossed his phone on the counter, then rolled his eyes so hard he almost strained them. “Asshole.”

Counting the ways in which Spencer was an asshole would take all day, so he wasn’t even going to bother, but he just was.

But more importantly, it was Tuesday and he hadn’t seen Blane since Saturday. He was supposed to head to the zoo toward the end of Blane’s shift. He cared a lot more about that, because two full days without Blane had seemed strangely long.

When he thought about it that way, it was kind of a good sign. Seeing Blane was a lot more important to him than meeting up with that asshole. Blane himself was more important to him than Spencer ever had been, after just a couple weeks of talking to him, a couple of dates, a lot of text messages, and a blowjob each.

I’m not going to get sucked back into Spencer’s orbit… his entourage.

It had never been about a genuine interest in him with Spencer. Spencer had only tried him out for convenient sex, companionship, and an ear to listen when he complained about closet problems. Not to mention the fact that he’d been willing to put up with Spencer’s closeted status, because being out hadn’t been important to Falcon back then.

But Blane seemed interested in his career, his opinions, and a lot more than his ass.

It’s weird to be treated nicely, actually. Having not really let himself date since Spencer, Falcon realized this just hadn’t come up before, but it was bound to.

It wasn’t that Spencer had ever hit him, or that he’d ever said no and been ignored. It wasn’t even that Spencer had emotionally blackmailed him, or talked about him behind his back. None of that had happened, or maybe he would have broken things off before turning eighteen and realizing he didn’t want to keep secrets.

Hell, even the closeted thing wasn’t a deal breaker. Not everyone was ready to face that kind of potential shit every single time they had to out themselves. Even Falcon hadn’t technically done it, because coming out over and over to everyone was exhausting. Much easier to have a boyfriend on his arm and let that do the talking.

What had driven him away from Spencer was the utter silence, the coldness that existed between them whenever they weren’t fucking. But Blane? Blane had been interested in him both sexually and platonically. He’d proven that by not insisting on sex after the date.

And to be honest, Falcon had been shocked about that. Why had it shocked him that a guy might want to drop him off at home and not come in? Had Spencer ever done that? Now that he thought about it… maybe not.

Falcon kept an eye on the time as he chewed his thoughts over, slowly getting himself presentable for a casual evening date with Blane.

That idea—of asking Blane to accompany him to the wedding as his plus-one—kept creeping into his head. God, even as a friend, he’d appreciate the company.

Falcon didn’t yet know if Blane wanted a relationship, but it was the perfect time to show Spencer that he didn’t need him. Whether he showed Spencer that he was happily single—no matter the truth about the “happily” part—or happily dating, it was a grudge he hadn’t realized he was holding.

And it had already bled into his relationship with Blane, just by comparing them, even if Blane came out on top. Wasn’t bringing Blane to the wedding using him? Especially if he didn’t tell him the full story beforehand? And he wasn’t sure he was ready to do that.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath as he grabbed his car keys. Instead of being annoyed that Spencer had called after all these years, he was grateful now to have seen what was going on before he could sabotage a good thing.

I hope Blane’s dated more than me. I could use a hand here. But he couldn’t go to Blane to tell him that he was worried he just wanted to use him to prove himself to some other asshole he didn’t even care about anymore. Or to prove himself to himself. He had no idea. No, he wasn’t going to ask Blane his thoughts yet.

The answer was obvious: Oscar.

Before he walked out the door, he shot him a quick text to ask if they could talk soon, then another to reassure him it was nothing bad, just a dating question. That ought to get a quick response out of him.

Then he took a deep breath and set it all aside to let the optimism shine once more. He tried to never leave the house in a bad attitude, or he’d just spend the rest of the day with it.

Things would work out somehow. They had to.