THE SUN WAS making a valiant effort to stay relevant on the cool October morning, as Logan turned his car onto the picturesque, tree-lined street in the heart of Wicker Park. It was just nearing ten on Saturday, and as his Audi slowly made its way down the narrow road, he turned and looked over at his silent passenger.

Tate was staring out the window at the houses bordering the street with an expression caught somewhere between apprehension and excitement, and Logan understood those feelings well. He still couldn’t believe that they were there either.

This was their third trip out to Evergreen Avenue, and today would make everything over the last month official. The beautiful homes with the immaculate yards, covered in a mixture of old growth and new trees, were now going to be a permanent part of their lives. Because, as of yesterday, the two of them had signed the final papers that made number nineteen sixty-six their new home.

“Is it weird that I’m nervous?” Tate’s question was the first thing he’d said in the last ten minutes, and though the silence in the car hadn’t been an uncomfortable one, the familiar timbre of his voice eased some of Logan’s own anxious energy.

“If it is, I guess that makes me weird too.”

“Really?” Tate said, and flashed a half-smile.

“Really. It’s a big investment. A big change for us.” And not the only one that’s been on my mind, Logan thought, as Tate nodded and returned his focus back out the window as Logan spotted the black iron fence that surrounded their destination.

As he pulled up to the curb, they each sat there and looked at the two-story, all-brick house, which had been built back in 1905 and since been converted into a flawless vintage home—their home.

It really was hard to believe that they’d only discussed this for the first time a little over a month ago, and now here they were about to head inside the place where the newest chapter of their lives would begin. It was nerve-racking but thrilling at the same time, and as Logan pushed open the door, the sound of Tate shoving his shut sent a jolt up his spine.

God, he was jumpy. That had to be that unknown factor, Logan supposed. The feeling that this was the start of something major that he didn’t want to fuck up. So, of course, it was accompanied with the usual restlessness and heart palpitations, right? Kind of like the other major thing he’d been ruminating over to the point of obsession. He’d never been more distracted in his life.

“You coming?” Tate asked, as he looked over the roof of the car to where Logan was still standing with his door wide open. Shit, distracted is right.

As Logan shut the car door and came around the hood, a gust of cool wind slammed into him and had him shoving his hands into the sports jacket he’d thankfully remembered on the way out the door. He hopped up onto the sidewalk and walked over to where Tate stood in front of the waist-high gate that housed a small mailbox, and Logan noticed that he too had his hands in the pockets of his jeans as the wind ruffled his hair.

The chilly blasts of October always seemed to come on suddenly in Chicago, and were a stark reminder to get ready for what winter would eventually bring their way. But for now, they still got some warmth out of the sun overhead. When Logan stopped beside Tate, he glanced at the path leading to the front door, and then back to the man beside him. “You ready to head inside?”

Tate gave the place another once-over and then grinned. “Yep, sure am.”

“Okay, then,” Logan said, and unlocked the gate. “Let’s go.”

As they made their way up to the front door, a tall woman in her mid-thirties with sleek black hair flowing past her shoulders stood on the porch. Cassandra, their real estate agent, had been a lifesaver over the last month, and she beamed at the two of them as she waved a set of keys on her fingers.

“Welcome home, boys.”

* * *

TATE REACHED FOR the keys Cassandra held, and as he wrapped his fingers around the brass, he looked back to Logan, who was right behind him peering up at the bay window on the second story.

The breeze had mussed up Logan’s hair, and when those blue eyes of his found Tate’s and a slow smile curved his lips, Tate knew he’d never forget how Logan looked standing there on the steps of their new home.

Wow. He still couldn’t believe they’d done it. Really done it. When they’d first talked about selling the condo, Tate had never actually imagined Logan would want to leave it behind. But he’d surprised the hell out of Tate with his enthusiasm over the idea. It was as though the thought had never occurred to Logan, but once it had, he’d been all in.

As soon as they’d gotten back from their trip, Logan had been emailing him potential areas, homes, crime rates, etcetera, and Tate had to admit it was both amusing and kind of awe-inspiring to watch Logan in research mode. His lawyer liked his facts, that was for sure, and Tate had to hand it to him: Logan had found a spectacular location, where they’d gone through dozens of open houses before they’d finally agreed that this was the one—even if the price tag had made Tate balk until he and Logan had sat down to crunch the numbers and decided they could make it work.

“I believe my job here is done,” Cassandra said as she shrugged her black handbag up her arm and stepped outside past the two of them. “If you have any questions at all, please let me know. But everything has been signed and filed, and as of now, you are free to start moving in.”

“Thank you,” Tate said, as Logan came up the final step.

“Really,” Logan agreed, shaking her hand. “You made this such an easy transition.”

“It was my pleasure.” Cassandra headed around them and down the steps to the path. “Maybe next time I’m downtown I’ll visit that bar of yours and you can repay me with a glass of wine.”

“That’s a deal,” Tate said.

“Good. Now let me get out of your hair so you two can enjoy. The place is beautiful.” Then she was walking to her car, which Logan had parked behind.

“Well, you have the keys,” Logan said. “After you, Mr. Morrison.”

Tate unlocked the front door and then stepped over the threshold, and when he heard Logan shut the front door behind him, Tate smiled to himself and moved into the formal living room.

Just like upstairs, there was a large bay window off to the left on the first floor, and a fireplace in the wall that would be perfect during the winter months when the weather dropped below freezing. The polished hardwoods gleamed in welcome as the sun slipped through the front window, and Tate stopped in the center of the room and turned to see Logan leaning with his back up against the front door.

“This feels a little surreal, doesn’t it?” Tate asked, as Logan continued to quietly watch him.

Sure, the two of them had lived together for years now, but somehow this felt different. The whole experience of making the decision to do this together, it felt…more. Tate laughed at himself and let his eyes travel around the empty space, and wondered how it would look in two months, four, and six, and then let his eyes come back to Logan.

Where Tate was busy marveling over the fact that this unbelievable place was now theirs, he found Logan’s stare intent upon him. Not their surroundings. The contemplative expression on Logan’s face was one Tate had seen a lot recently when Logan hadn’t realized he was watching. But Tate wasn’t worried about it. He’d just chalked it up to the same distraction and jitters he’d been having over this huge step they’d just made. Like Logan had said in the car, this was a big change for them.

“I can’t believe it’s really ours,” Tate said. The size alone was going to take some getting used to.

Logan pushed off the door and wandered over to where he stood, and placed a palm on Tate’s chest as he finally spoke. “I know. It hasn’t quite sunk in yet.”

Tate brought a hand up and placed it over Logan’s as he looked around again. “It’s huge.”

When Logan laughed, Tate spotted the mischievous sparkle in his eyes and grinned.

“It never fails to amaze me how hot those two words sound coming out of your mouth,” Logan said. “Even in reference to our house.”

Tate took Logan’s hand, tugging him out of the living room. “Come on. I want to look around now that we finally have the place to ourselves.”

He led them past a white staircase and into the kitchen outfitted with a sleek island counter, dark wooden cabinetry, and stainless steel appliances. There were two sliding doors off to the right, which housed the perfect office space for Logan and already had beautiful built-in bookshelves, and, at the very end of the home, near the back door, was a small eating area.

The space was completely devoid of furnishings for now, but as they’d walked through the home over the last few visits, the two of them had discussed exactly how they’d seen the place coming together.

Tate came to a stop at the glass back door and looked out to the backyard, where there was a stone fire pit and barbecue, and couldn’t help the total fucking rush of pleasure that this was his and Logan’s home. One that they had chosen together for themselves. Damn, but they’d come a long way.

As he stood there, Logan came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist. And when he rested his chin on Tate’s shoulder, Tate turned his head and kissed his cheek.

“Still like it?” Logan asked.

Tate turned in Logan’s arms and knew he had to have the goofiest smile on his face ever. “Like isn’t a strong enough word.”

Logan returned his grin, and Tate was pleased to note his was just as boyish, just as silly, with their shared enthusiasm. “I know exactly how you feel. It’s almost…I don’t know…a rush to think that it’s ours. Kind of like being high.”

Tate couldn’t help but laugh at that, because Logan had just zeroed in on the exact thought he’d been having. “Know that feeling well, do you?”

Logan waggled his eyebrows. “Not from anything chemical or herbal,” he said, and then connected their lips lightly. “But when I’m inside you I feel fucking euphoric, and this has to be close to that feeling. Maybe a distant second.”

Tate nipped at Logan’s lip and then walked him backward until his ass hit the end of the counter in their new kitchen. “A distant second, huh?”

Logan’s eyes narrowed a fraction, but that grin of his remained as he nodded.

“What about when I’m inside of you?” Tate asked, and he didn’t miss the way Logan shifted his lower body so their hips were now connected.

“Oh… You’re right,” Logan said as his eyes dropped to Tate’s mouth. “Nothing comes anywhere close to either of those two things. So maybe a distant third. What the fuck was I thinking?”

“I don’t know.” Tate snaked one of his hands down between them to massage his flattened palm over the ridge behind Logan’s zipper. “But maybe we need to refresh your memory. Lots of new rooms here to break in.” As Logan’s eyes drifted shut, Tate curled his fingers around the now prominent bulge, causing a groan to slip free of Logan. “What do you say? Want to check out our new bedroom for a minute or two?”

As Logan took hold of either side of Tate’s shirt, he ground himself against Tate’s hand. “As much as I’d like that, have you forgotten we have to— Ahh,” Logan said, when Tate lowered his head and kissed the patch of skin just beneath his open collar.

“Have to…?” Tate continued to palm Logan’s erection and gently bite and nuzzle his way up and down his neck.

Logan’s ragged breathing made Tate’s pulse race, and when he sucked the skin hard enough to leave a bruise, Logan shuddered and turned his head so they were eye to eye. The strain on Logan’s face made it obvious he was making an effort to behave himself, which amused Tate, and also made him more determined than ever to sway him.

“We have to be somewhere in thirty minutes,” Logan managed. “We don’t have time for—”

Tate’s fingers at the button of Logan’s pants cut him off mid-sentence. “Time for what?”

Logan wrapped one of his hands around Tate’s wrist, stilling him. “We said we’d meet him at eleven. And he’s always early.”

Tate unbuckled Logan’s belt and eyed him boldly. “Good thing I’ve never been worried about running late. But since you’re so worried, we don’t have to go upstairs to our new bedroom. We can start right here in the kitchen. That should buy us some time. Ten minutes?”

“Tate…” Logan said, but there was little to no resistance in his tone as Tate unbuttoned his slacks and unzipped him.

“Let me welcome you to our new home.” Tate slipped his hand inside Logan’s briefs, and his own cock reacted to the hot throb of Logan’s in his hand.

“Jesus,” Logan muttered, but when he finally released Tate’s shirt to brace his hands on the counter behind him, Tate knew he had him. “Ten minutes, you say?”

“Yeah… But I bet you don’t last five,” Tate said, and dropped to his knees.

As he yanked Logan’s briefs and pants to mid-thigh, Logan shoved his fingers through his hair and angled Tate’s face up so he could look down at him. Tate licked his lips at the flush now staining Logan’s cheeks, and had to bite back a groan when Logan used his other hand to guide his cock along the seam of his mouth.

“Well, then, that’ll give you five minutes to make sure I’m all cleaned up and presentable afterwards. Won’t it?”

Even though Logan’s words were stated as a question, no answer was required. Both he and Logan knew the second Tate had him in his mouth he wasn’t going to let him go anywhere until he swallowed any and all evidence of what they were about to do, and his eyes must’ve relayed that loud and clear, because all Tate heard before Logan slipped between his lips was, “Better hurry, we’re down to nine.”

As it turned out, they only needed seven.

Then they were back in Logan’s car, more or less presentable, if Tate didn’t count his raging hard-on, heading across town to their eleven o’clock meeting.