Then

Phoenix's thoughts had kept him tossing and turning. Sleep was not a friend to take him that night. He had been up, pacing the room while thinking, watching tv to distract himself, and he had gone down to smoke several times, though his throat had screamed at him for the abuse. The number of cigarettes at Devil's and then during that night had his throat redraw.

The third time he had gone down, the young man manning the night reception, had come to him with a small tray with chamomile tea and a brandy on it. Phoenix detested chamomile tea. The brandy was godsent, and he was grateful to the receptionist for the well-meaning thought and for offering it to him without being prompted.

He had drunk both and found some restless sleep at some point.

How long he had slept, he did not know. It felt like five minutes at the max when his phone rang. Groggy and in a mood that was not for the fainthearted, Phoenix grabbed the offending device to make the sound stop. First, he noticed the time. 6:03. And he was ready to rip off heads until he saw Jace's name on the display.

"Jace?" he said in a raspy sound, trying hard to control his cigarette-hoarse and sleep-numbed voice.

"Did I wake you? You're usually up at this time," Jace's apologetic voice sounded through the phone and cleared up Phoenix's sleep-deprived brain instantly.

"Don't worry about it. I would have been up in half an hour, anyway. Are you ok?" Phoenix was already on high alert, thinking of numbers for cabs and calculating how long it would take him to get to Jace if he needed him.

Jace was silent for a moment before he answered. "Ehm, yes. I wanted to ask you something."

"Sure?"

"I have a meeting with the administrator here before I go to breakfast with my dad, and I have to update my payments and information. I'd like to ask if I can put you down as executor of my will and responsible for the continuous payments for my father's care if something should happen to me. Gareth is listed as next of kin, but I trust you with my money and to honor the commitment of assuring my father until his death."

"You can totally say no," Jace added after a quick breath, when Phoenix had said nothing.

Phoenix was shocked. No, that was wrong. He was amazed. The level of trust Jace wished to put on him with handling his father's care was beyond anything Phoenix had imagined. That Gareth was listed as next of kin was only natural. They had been friends since their teens, and they were brothers with as tight a bond as if they shared blood. Other than that, Jace had nobody.

Well, until that moment; where Jace let Phoenix officially into a club that he had not seen himself enter, even if he got the Holy Grail equivalent label of boyfriend. Jace trusted him enough to leave everything in his hands, if the unthinkable should happen. Jace considered him family, and hopefully not in a brotherly way.

It was a tremendous step for Phoenix, though it probably meant little in progress between them on becoming a couple. Still, it was something, and 'something' he took with grabby hands and held it tight.

"I'd be honored, Jace."

"Thank you. I'll drive back before lunch. When's the flight?"

The relief in Jace's voice was enough to make Phoenix relax. There was nothing wrong with Jace or his father. That had been his worry with the early call. And since Jace got his request granted, everything seemed fine.

"It's not until tonight. We have time for a late lunch or an early dinner before we have to head for the airport."

"Great. I know a place and there's something I'd like to show you close by, anyway. See you later."

"Take care and don't rush. We have time."

Jace sat back and looked at the phone in his hand.

Calling Phoenix that early was sure to have been an inconvenience. The time had not even occurred to him. It only registered when he had heard Phoenix's groggy voice. He had wanted to ask Phoenix the night before. It was something he had thought about for a while because it was important to him to have more than one person listed to take care of his dad, just in case. He had been too exhausted to remember it, and Phoenix had talked him to sleep in no time.

The day had drained him completely. Though his dad had only had a few minor episodes of confusion, and one big one where they had given him something to relax, it still took everything out of Jace to be there. The care facility was a nice place, both in the patient rooms and the common areas. It had better be with the price he paid. But the people there truly cared, and they understood each patient's needs and catered to them.

That was not something he could put a price on, and as long as the doctors were competent, and his father was content and safe, Jace would pay any price to the end of days.

Getting up, feeling what little it had given him to sleep slip away, Jace put on his jacket and left the room at the visitor's lodging down the road from the home where his father lived. It was part of the package he paid for. Whenever he came to visit, there would be a room for him at the lodging, and they included food during his stay. He could eat with his father, if he had a good day and did not have any episodes. Because of the outburst of angry confusion the night before, they had not eaten dinner together. They had shared a cup of tea before Jace had left to go to bed. That was the reason he had arranged for the early meeting, so he could join his father for breakfast before he had to leave.

In a daze, Jace got through the meeting with the administrator and the doctor in charge of his father. There was nothing new. The paperwork got updated, and Phoenix's name and contact information got added. The doctor informed about Jace's father's condition and the different medical trials available. There was nothing extraordinarily interesting that would fit his father as a test subject, nothing that could promise longer life or improvements. Like always, it was just a waiting game, and Jace had to live with the status quo. His father had already lived longer than expected. Most Alzheimer's patients lived four-eight years after being diagnosed. Jace's father had already lived six years. It would be a miracle if he lived much longer, especially since the symptoms had been there for years before they had made the official diagnosis. They had thought it to be dementia until later on, when they had called it Alzheimer's.

To Jace, it had been a relief to have somebody explain it to him and give him a solid term he could relate to and possibly understand. Though Alzheimer's had been nothing to celebrate, at least they knew what they were up against. Alzheimer's was a cruel disease. The only redeeming factor, and the most worrisome, too, was the early onset in Jace's father. Usually, people over sixty-five got Alzheimer's. Jace's father had only been in his forties at the first symptoms.

If it was good or bad was still debatable, at least in terms of life expectancy.

Maybe the abnormality in the early onset of symptoms meant other abnormalities, like longer life and slower progression of the disease. Jace hoped against hope for positive news every time. He had to settle for nothing. No positives and no negatives either.

Just nothing new.

Jace walked the halls to one of the common rooms where his father waited until breakfast. A nurse had instructed him to the room and informed him that his father was in a good mood and the night had been peaceful.

That was a relief.

"Dad?"

Eric Keys lifted his head from the crossword magazine in front of him. Someone had neatly combed his white hair to cover the thinning of it. He looked a lot older than his sixty-five years, though that was old in itself. It was not in his slim body; it was all in his face, the wrinkles and tiredness seemed ever-present. His blue eyes, only a shade darker than Jace's, sparkled with interest at the visitor, but there was no recognition in them, just curiosity and joy.

Every time, Jace hoped his dad would see him, the son. A lump formed in his throat and his heart pounded like a trapped bird, trying to escape. And every time, disappointment washed over him when he did not get the one thing he wished for when he was there.

"Hello," Eric said and smiled the smile Jace remembered and wished was for him like it had been when he was a child.

"Hello, Mr. Keys. I was thinking I'd eat breakfast with you today, if you don't mind?"

"Me?" Eric lit up with an even brighter smile and motioned a hand with urgency at the chair next to him. "Yes. Come, come, sit, young man. It's..." He thought about it for a while. "Wednesday, I think. We have bacon on Wednesdays. You'll like it."

Jace just smiled and sat down. It was not Wednesday, and his father got bacon every day. None of it mattered. If his dad was happy and believed it to be bacon Wednesday, then bacon Wednesday it was.

"Do you know a seven-letter word for home?" Eric scratched his head with the pen and pointed at the space in the crossword puzzle he was working on. It was something Jace's father enjoyed doing, which was lucky, as it was not only a good brain exercise, but also good for his motor skills to write. There were many symptoms of the disease, the memory loss, sure, but also the slow loss of coordinating limbs. The difficulty with language, reading, and writing. The confusion and inability to learn new things and cope with new situations.

Most of the symptoms had shown but had not progressed as swiftly as they had warned Jace about. The ones they battled most with were memory loss and short attention span, and that prompted the other symptoms, like confusion because keeping his train of thought was difficult and made Eric lose focus and become disoriented, and that gave the violent outbursts they knew so well.

It was a devil of a disease.

Jace peeked at it. "I think it's 'trailer'." Jace pointed at the word that went across to put in the 'a' in the word they tried to figure out.

"Oh, you're smart." Eric scribbled in the word with a bit of difficulty and smiled proudly at Jace. "What about that one?"

They sat in cozy collaboration and filled out words of the puzzle until a nurse came with their breakfast. It might not be much, but it was a good time for Jace. He felt connected to his father. Well, he felt connected to Eric, the man. There was no sign of the father he longed for. It was good, nonetheless.

"See, I told you it was Wednesday," Eric exclaimed and pointed happily at the bacon and then smiled sweetly at the nurse, who slid him a small plate with some extra slices of the crispy goodness.

The nurse did not correct him, nor did she falter when Eric began babbling about juice and bacon, and how they went perfectly together. She simply smiled and talked with him until he was ready to eat. Leaving their table, she gave Jace a nod and an encouraging smile.

"This is excellent bacon, you were right. I do like it." Jace bit into one of the crisp slices he had been served.

"Yes. I like Wednesdays. If you stay, my wife and son will come for lunch. You should meet them."

Jace tried to hide his shock. He knew from the reports that his father, at times, talked about the past, but he had never been present when he did. Had never seen his father remember anything about their life as it had been. He had been there for the violent episodes when Eric got mad at the staff for not being his wife, or for keeping her from him. But there had not really been much mentioning of Jace, the son. Most of the time, it was unclear what year his father lived in; it jumped a lot. Sometimes he was years before Jace had been born, that was the most common, and other times he was somewhere around Jace's early teens when his mother had left.

"You have a son?"

Eric finished his mouthful, slammed the fork down on the table, and rummaged around in his bathrobe pocket. He drew out a faded photograph and placed it gently on the table he dusted off to make sure it was clean where he put it. "See, that's Elly, my wife. And that's my son, Jace."

In stunned shock, Jace looked at the picture from something that looked like when he had been around five years old. He wore a poorly made police uniform and his mother was dressed like a Greek goddess. It was definitely a Halloween picture, and most likely his birthday, he could not remember that particular one with any clarity.

"Those are good costumes," he choked out.

"They are, aren't they? My Elly made them. Isn't he adorable?" Eric caressed the picture and blinked away a few tears. "I can't wait for him to grow up. He's so smart. Maybe he'll be a lawyer like me."

It was like a blast from the past. Things Jace had long forgotten came back with the force of a hurricane. Whirling around Jace, almost knocking him over.

His father had been a lawyer. A well-renowned and tough-as-nails man. Always busy with cases and earning money. First, because he had no other purpose, and later, to give his family everything. As strange as it sounded, Eric had been a family man and had worked hard to gain prestige in his job to provide a good life for the much younger bride he had found.

Jace had been born when Eric was thirty-five by his thirteen-year younger wife. The story of how they had met and fallen in love, Eleanor had told Jace so many times while growing up. He had always loved that story, loved how his parents had been when together, because they had both been loving parents. Though Eric had been busy with work, he had been a good father, always taking time to play with Jace and putting him to bed when he was home for it.

Those wonderful memories brought back the bad too. Jace remembered the arguments that came out of nowhere. First the misplacement of things and how Eric had yelled at Jace and Elly for taking his stuff, then the forgetfulness of appointments and family arrangements. It was followed by the weird accusations, misunderstandings, and later the extreme paranoia. Of course, he had later been told that those had been early symptoms of his father's illness, but back then, it had just been a scary change.

And he remembered his parents loving each other on the good days. Those good days somehow always erased the bad, and things had gone back to normal for a while before it had picked up again.

His mother had left suddenly. At least that was how Jace remembered it. One day when he had come home from school, she had not been there, and Eric had explained that she would not come back. That was when Jace had needed to grow up. It had been ok for a while, until his father's condition had made him lose cases and drop the ball too often at work, ending with him getting fired. After that, Jace had needed to keep a constant eye on him. Eric would wander off, still thinking he had to go to work, go looking for Eleanor, and other things that had been normal before.

It had forced Jace to suddenly be responsible for everything. He had used the money he could get from his father's account and done what he could to earn money himself. For a kid, it had been hell. He had not understood what had happened in his family, or what was going on with his father. He had adjusted to everything and found measures to keep Eric locked at home, to keep him safe and entertained. It had been unstable, and the only solution Jace as a kid could come up with.

Not until he had run into Gareth, had he seen a way out, or had anybody provide him with any kind of help. Their friends had slowly slipped away after Eleanor's departure, and the few who had kept visiting, Eric had made sure to kick out. Jace had known that if he sought help, the authorities would have removed him from his home, and nothing had made him want to abandon his father, like his mother had abandoned them both.

With Gareth's help, Jace had got his father examined, and, to begin with, in-home help while Jace finished school. Later, when Jace was out of school, Gareth had helped Jace find the home where Eric had lived since. They had not been sure because Eric had been so young when the symptoms presented themselves. It had been a form of dementia, but not necessarily Alzheimer's. That diagnosis the doctors at the home had reached while Eric lived there, and proper tests had been made.

"Do you want him to be a lawyer?" Jace asked, not sure what answer he would get. It was just nice to be remembered, even if it was the five-year-old him they were talking about.

"No," Eric scratched his head. "I want him to be anything he wants. It's just that he's smart. He could become a lawyer."

Blinking hard to keep the tears back, Jace occupied himself with his food. Those words were like a soothing balm on his frazzled soul. His father had seen potential in him, had wanted the best for him, and still did because to him, Jace was just a kid.

"Do you know what he did the other day?" Eric continued, unaffected and oblivious to Jace's quivering lip and hard swallowing to control himself. "He put on my shoes and a tie around his head and asked to come with me to work."

The way Eric laughed made Jace laugh along with him. He could not remember ever having done anything like that. If his father had to remember anything, Jace was happy that it was a good memory and one that made him appreciate Jace as he had been when his father had not been sick.

The moment of clarity was gone before Jace had a chance to ask more. Eric happily ate his food and mumbled about Wednesdays over and over. Of course, it saddened Jace that his father went back into the void, but he had seen him for a moment, a moment he only wished to tell one person about.

Immediately, his thoughts drifted to Phoenix. Warmth filled him when he saw grey eyes in a handsome face, and black hair that was like silk to the touch. He did not even have to touch it to feel it on his fingers. Instinctively, his hand came up and traced around the outline of the pendant on the necklace he wore under his shirt. The constant reminder of Phoenix being with him gave him strength.

"You're smiling," Eric said and studied Jace with interest.

"Am I?" Jace shook his head to lose the image of Phoenix in his mind.

"Do you have children too?" It was plain curiosity, and maybe a brief moment of remembrance in Eric, that made him ask. "You should. It's worth every moment."

"No, not yet."

"Do you have a wife?"

Jace blushed. Wife?

"No, I don't. I have somebody I think I like a little." For some reason he had no grasp on, Jace felt safe telling his father his innermost secrets. Everything he said would disappear into the nothingness in Eric's mind. It was like The Neverending Story. Fantasies, reality, everything that had once been and meant anything became nothing.

"Oh, is she sweet?"

"He," Jace said before he could stop himself. He had not even thought about how his father, who still in many ways lived in the past, would react to a male-male relationship.

Eric looked confused and rubbed his chin with a thoughtful frown, obviously using a lot of energy to process the word.

"You're one of them modern blokes. Good for you. We had one like you at work. They called him a poof. But he was a very nice man."

Jace did not know if he should laugh or feel a bit offended on the guy's behalf. One thing he did notice was how his father, in no way, seemed disgusted or judgmental. He had honestly expected that, since he, in his mind, lived somewhere in the 1980s.

Eric continued unabashed. "Elton John is one, you know."

Shaking with withheld laughter, Jace tried to wrap his head around the most surreal conversation he had experienced in his life.

"And Freddie Mercury too." Eric nodded with conviction. "So, you like a bloke. What's his name?"

"Phoenix."

"Is he a musician too? That's a strange name."

"You're right," Jace agreed with a laugh. "He's a very nice man. But he's not a musician."

"That's too bad. His name sounds very rock 'n' roll."

The moment too was gone before Jace could savor it, and that was ok because it had given Jace a glimpse of acceptance from his father of his choices in life. And a laugh at imagining Phoenix as a rockstar. Eric was back at the crossword, and soon the breakfast plates got removed by the staff. It left Jace thinking about Phoenix in a new light. That stirring he had felt over and over suddenly made sense. The voice calling from across the expanse became clearer when he had admitted to his father that he might like Phoenix.

Like, as in more than just his Dom.

With that realization came the inevitable doubts. Was Phoenix even capable of feeling emotions of love? And if so, would he be able to direct those toward Jace? Phoenix, in many ways, lived compartmentalized into boxes with roles, and the ones Jace had access to were clearly defined and had their specific purposes.

There was colleague, where they had each other's backs, worked together for a common goal with their assignments, and where they supported the dreams they both had for their future careers. Then there was friend, where they enjoyed each other's company. Had fun at dinners and on the town with the guys. They could talk about many things and did not judge. Their socializing had become a new normal for Jace. And then there was the Dom. That was where Phoenix showed all his sides, not only the caring and supportive parts of himself, but the strong, dominant, and sometimes very demanding sexual persona who provided every aspect of the physical and emotional needs of Jace's sexual desires.

Jace had felt lost in the woods, scared out of his mind by the darkness and unknown around him. Phoenix had found him cowering in fear, clicking his heels to go home, wishing it was just a dream. He had lifted him up, assured him he was safe, and had carried him out of the darkness. Had shone his light all around him and bathed him in the brightness of a different life, and shown him a future without fear.

How could he not like a man like that? Why had it taken him so long to see that what Phoenix gave him was beyond the physical?

But that was where the problems began too. What would he have to do to get Phoenix to step out of that box of predefined rules and restrictions to maybe give him a chance? And was he ready for anything like that? Phoenix was not Levi, but love was the same, and it could hurt.

"You look sad." Eric lifted his hand to cup Jace's cheek and gently stroked his thumb over the cheekbone. "You have the exact same eyes as my Jace. If he saw them, he would laugh at the similarity. That boy always laughs."

"He does?" Jace tried to smile, tried to not cry. But what he did was lean into the touch and remember all those nights of touches like that before bed. Whispers of wishes for him to have wonderful dreams and enjoy going on adventures while asleep.

"Yes, it's like there's always something funny going on in his head." Eric's hand slid up and settled in Jace's hair. He ruffled it slightly and went on to smooth the hair back over and over. "His hair is like yours too. Like the sun, as bright as he is."

"Do you love him?"

Eric sighed with a dreamy smile and patted Jace's cheek. "More than he'll ever know. I miss him when he's at school. But he's coming later with my Elly for lunch. You should meet him."

"I'm sure he looks forward to seeing you too."

"You think? I just want to hug him." Eric blushed and lowered his eyes. "Can I hug you?"

Without even answering, Jace put his arms around the frail man and hugged him carefully. That was until Eric tightened his grip around Jace and sighed. He was much stronger than he looked, and it felt just like old times. Jace leaned into the hug and reciprocated the fierceness of the grip and sniffled with joy.

"I love you, dad," Jace whispered into the soft collar of Eric's bathrobe.

"There, there," Eric cooed at him as he had done back in the day.

Jace felt like crying when Eric pulled away and focused back on the crossword as if they had not shared a moment. It was like when he lost Phoenix's touch and closeness. Every time it messed with his head. He praised his lucky stars for that brief moment of connecting with his father and being able to be a son for a second and not the adult and caretaker.

It was enough to feel blessed.

"Is that word 'Corgi'?"

Studying the word Eric was looking for, Jace smiled. "Yes, you're right."

When it came time for Jace to leave, they had finished the crossword and were both proud of their accomplishment. Jace was not nearly as good at it as his father, but he enjoyed doing it because it made Eric smile, and anything that made him smile and gave him an opportunity to use his head and keep his motor skills up, Jace would participate in.

"I think it's time for me to leave. I have to go home."

Eric just looked at Jace. Maybe there was a hint of sadness with losing his crossword buddy, but there was no recognition of it being a father seeing his son leave.

"You can't stay for breakfast? It's..." He thought about it for a while. "Wednesday, I think. We have bacon on Wednesdays. You'll like it."

Smiling and looking at his father with soft, misty eyes, Jace said his quiet goodbye to their morning together. "Maybe next time. I have to get back to work."

"What do you work with? I'm a lawyer. Are you a lawyer?"

Jace scratched his head. He was not really sure how to explain his work to his dad. Then again, Eric would forget whatever he said in a matter of moments. "I'm a sort of manager. I train the new employees and oversee different departments."

Eric looked mighty impressed. His blue eyes scanned up and down Jace's casual jeans and grey, button-up shirt. "Yes, I can see you do that job well. Is it something you like doing?"

"Yes, very much. I have a great boss and good colleagues."

"And do you have a family?"

"I have a father and somebody I think about a lot."

Nodding, Eric sat thoughtfully for a moment. "Can I give you some advice?"

"Sure." Jace stood beside the chair he had gotten up from and waited for his father to say something. It was always a surprise what came out.

"Don't waste your time being afraid to take a chance. And never let yourself be unhappy. If you go home and don't feel happy with what you come home to and satisfied by what you spent your day doing, you need to change a few things." He cleared his throat to keep talking. "Don't let anybody dictate your life and never stop fighting for what makes you happy."

"That's good advice," Jace answered with a choked-up voice. The lump that had formed made it almost impossible for him to speak. He leaned down and pecked a kiss on his father's parchment chin. "Thank you for letting me do the crossword with you. And for the advice."

"It was my pleasure."

The conversation was over, Eric had turned the page to look at the clues for the next crossword, and Jace took in the sight. Burned the image into his memory to take with him home. Until the next time, if there was a next time.

He turned to leave, gazing at the other patients around the common room, watching tv, pushing around puzzle pieces, and looking out the windows at the gardens. People lost in their own worlds, just like his father.

"Oh, you never told me your name, young man." Eric grabbed onto Jace's arm to stop him from leaving.

"It's Jace, Mr. Keys. My name is Jace."

"That's a good name. A strong name." He looked up. "It suits you."

He paused as he thought hard, closing his eyes and shaking a bit with the frustration of not knowing exactly why he had trouble. When he opened his eyes, there was a look of defeat on his face. He had not remembered anything.

"Will you come back to visit me, Jace?"

"I'll come back next month, dad."

Visibly relaxing, Eric let go of Jace's arm and leaned back in his seat with a small smile playing on his lips.

"I'll look forward to that." He returned to his crossword and talked down to the table when Jace slowly moved away. "If you come on a Wednesday, there'll be bacon. And you can meet Elly and my son. They come for lunch on Wednesdays."

With his heart pounding and sweat drenching his clothes, Jace walked as calmly as possible out of the house. He nodded at the staff and waved goodbye to the doorman when he left. Outside, he drew in a deep breath to steady himself.

Everything in him hurt, hurt to the point where he saw no way out of it. Usually, his father would talk about some case from work, or about his youth. Jace had most often experienced his father from before Jace was born. There had been a few glimpses of memories from Jace's childhood, but nothing specific. They had primarily centered around memories of Eleanor, and Jace had not been part of those memories as such.

Sprinting back to the lodging, Jace scared off a gardener and the on-shift lady at the lodging when he burst through the door and ran to his room. In the shower, the lava-hot rays thrashed down on him like one of Phoenix's whips, to cleanse him of the memories. He had always been told that moments of clarity would come just before the end, and he was not ready.

Not yet.

He had been on his own for years, but if his father passed, he would truly be alone. Having friends was great. Gareth and the guys were family substitutes, and Jace loved them for always being there in one way or another. But at the end of the day, they had families of their own, and he had nobody.

All the way back to Greenwich in the car, Jace's thoughts revolved around the concept of family. Around what that word meant to him. No matter how he approached it in his mind, it came back to three factors that to him were needed to obtain that feeling of belonging, safety, and... Love?

His father.

Gareth.

And Phoenix.

It hit him so hard that he had to pull over the car to scream in frustration. Banging on the steering wheel and ranting at the universe, he let out everything in him. How the hell was he supposed to explain his feelings to Phoenix when he had no idea what those feelings were? All he knew was, when he thought of a life without Phoenix in it, that darkness he had left crept in on him again.

Four cigarettes and an obscene amount of cursing at the universe later, Jace continued his drive. He had texted Phoenix his arrival time and to be ready to go for lunch. Liquid lunch would have been Jace's preferred dietary choice, though he would probably have to settle for something more mundane.

He had made a deal with himself. Jace would suck it up and act normal for the rest of their trip. He would go home and take a few days of non-Phoenix time to think it all through, to make sure that he did not just put Phoenix in some rose-colored light because he was emotional about his father. If he was falling in love again, if he was ready to take that leap, but he needed to be sure. Dead-certain, because winning Phoenix would probably be an uphill battle.

Phoenix did not do relationships. He did not even do contracts. What they had, they had tailored perfectly to what Phoenix was capable of giving, and what Jace was capable of accepting. With those parameters changed for Jace, Phoenix would have to change, to adapt to a new normal that would test his emotional aptitude and acceptance. Though Jace was not sure exactly what he wanted, he knew that in one way or another, it would mean coming out to Gareth and the gang. He shook with the thought of having to convince Phoenix of that.

"Act normal. Act normal," Jace chanted under his breath to himself when he saw Phoenix waiting outside the hotel. He had argued enough with himself, and the plan he had come up with was to put out a few feelers to see how Phoenix would react.  As a Dom, Phoenix was caring, and to a degree very affectionate, but that was the Dom in him. It had nothing to do with romantic feelings. What Jace had decided was to see if Phoenix might be open to maybe losing the Dom and being the same person without the dominant responsibility.

One thing he promised himself, for his own dignity and his slowly defrosting heart, was to take it slow and not push Phoenix into the deep end. It was the tortoise and the hare all over. Slow and steady would win the race. It was the only advice his father had ever given him. In a brief moment of clarity, Eric had summed up a lifetime of fatherly advice.

Jace would have to fight for his own happiness.

"Are you ok?" Phoenix asked with concern when he noticed Jace's serious face and the tired slouch of his body. The moment Jace lifted his face and their eyes met, he automatically just opened his arms wide and waited.

He did not have to wait long. Jace snuggled into his chest and let out a tired sigh when Phoenix locked his arms around him. "I'm ok now."

"Is your father ok? Did he upset you?"

"No, we watched some old movies yesterday and solved crosswords today. It was good."

For once, Phoenix chose not to call Jace out on lying to him. It did not take a rocket scientist to figure out that it had drained Jace, and though Jace was used to it and maybe did not see it as particularly upsetting, he did react to it. Phoenix would be there to support him if Jace decided he needed to talk. Sometimes it was better to process alone, that much Phoenix had learned from the other times Jace had gone to visit the home.

"You said you had a place where we could go for lunch?"

Jace had perked up during their lunch at a small taco place in the Tufnell Park area of London. Food had that effect on him, and it never failed to put a smile on his lovely face. It was enough for Phoenix to see Jace relax and chatter about this and that while stuffing his face like a famine would hit Northern Europe the next day.

The amount of food that the boy could consume was mind-blowing. Luckily, Jace liked to work out. He would probably never end up with a blubber-gut. Not that Phoenix would mind. He just had a feeling that Jace would not accept himself if he lost his physical appearance.

They walked back to where they had parked the car when Jace stopped and looked at a narrow two-story building. It was a classic Victorian terrace home, like the others on the street. Redstone with white window frames and a black door with a round window in the middle. It looked well-kept, but nothing out of the ordinary.

"I grew up in there," Jace said in a low emotional voice and hugged himself to shield his body from the cold that threatened to invade him. "That's my home."

Jace stared at the house. He practically expected to see the white curtain in the window move and a blonde head poke out to see who it was, just to disappear and moments later rip the door open and greet him with open arms. Like his mum had always done. He waited for it, but nothing happened.

"Do you mind if we go inside?"

"I don't mind, but are you sure the people who live there are ok with us wanting to go inside?" Phoenix gave the house a look to see if anybody inside had noticed them yet. He was not opposed to going in. If the owners were ok with it, if that was what Jace needed, he would support him.

"I have a key. It's my house," Jace said and walked to the front door. He took in a deep breath and leaned his forehead against the cold window in the door, waiting for his nerves to calm down. His hand with the key shook so much he could not get the key into the keyhole.

"Let me." Phoenix carefully took the key from Jace and gently nudged him to the side, and opened the door. He stepped into the empty hall and held his hand out to Jace.

Stepping inside, the stale air was a sharp contrast to what Jace had expected. He remembered the wafting of cinnamon, apples, vanilla, and many other scents greeting him every day. He remembered his mother's love of Elvis songs, playing from the record player. The distinct smell of furniture polish and cleaning products. Maybe he had his love of coconut from that polish his mother always used.

Their steps echoed in the hall as they walked past the staircase, leading up to the bedrooms on the upper floors, and into the empty living room. There was no furniture anywhere. The floors were clean and bare. The walls were a bit dull from the many years of just being there with no real maintenance. They were not ugly, just boringly bare. The fireplace had not seen an ember in over a decade, and the curtains could probably do with a washing. They walked into the dining room at the back of the living room and into the kitchen. Both rooms were bare and cried for life.

It would be a small investment to make the house grand again. It could shine in its past glory with very little effort, Jace noticed when he led Phoenix upstairs and past the door to what had been his parent's bedroom and his father's office until he came to the last door next to the bathroom. On it hung a wooden plank that said 'Jace' on it.

Jace pushed the door open and stepped inside.

It was like a time capsule. Everything in that room was as he had left it. His bed with a dark-blue bedspread to the right. His dark wood dresser and closet to the left. A dark wood desk below the window next to the doors, leading to the small balcony overlooking the backyard.

Phoenix studied the Skid Row posters on the walls, the stereo on a small table by the bed, and the neatly stacked books on the desk. It was a unique window into Jace's past, one that Jace had decided to share with him, and he was honored.

"I can't say I share your love for Skid Row."

Jace chuckled and looked at the bare-chested Sebastian Bach on one poster. Then he looked at Phoenix with a sly smile. He could name a few reasons why those posters had made him put them up. And he could name even more reasons why he would want posters of Phoenix there instead.

"Come look," Jace went to the doors and opened out to the balcony. He stepped outside to look down at the long, narrow garden below. That too was perfectly kept. He had paid for gardening services and cleaning of the house since he moved out.

"It's a pleasant view. And a nice house."

"I'm thinking of selling it. Gareth made payments on the house when I was younger and took it partially out of my paycheck. When I turned twenty-one, he bought out the house and gave it to me as a present." Jace turned to look at Phoenix. "But I can't do it. I don't know how, and I don't want to know who comes here to see it and buys it."

Pleading with his eyes and wringing his hands, Jace hoped Phoenix would catch on.

"Do you want me to take care of it?" The nod from Jace was his reply. "And you're sure you want to sell it?"

Turning again to look out at the yard once more, Jace simply sighed and nodded. "Yes. I'm not moving back to London, and I have no use for a house like this. If spruced up a little, I can sell it for a fair price, I think."

"I can take care of everything, if you choose that. Don't worry about it." Not sure if it was the right move, he put his arms around Jace and felt how he shivered. "You don't have to decide yet. My offer stands when you're ready."

Jace smiled to himself and leaned into Phoenix's embrace. The smell of his cologne enveloped him and mixed with the autumn air of earthy scents. He looked up at the sky and then back down at the swing set in the back of the garden.

"This is my favorite place in the world," he whispered out to the garden.

"Think about it for a few weeks, ok Baby boy? I'll gladly make sure it's done up and sold, if you decide with a sound mind later. But after these days with your father, I doubt that you have a clear head. Give it some time, ok?"

"Ok."

Hi dear Wattlings.

Thank you for reading.

It was tough for Jace to be with his father, but one good thing came out of it. He's beginning to realize his feelings and maybe he'll be ready to do something about them soon?

If you like it, then pop a vote and please leave comments. The comments are important for me to know how the story is progressing and the characters are developing. And I'd love to know what you think and interact with y'all.

Give me a follow too for updates on other work and put this book in your library. I'd appreciate that.

Love, Alix

Published: December 7th, 2021. ©Alix Davenport, Copenhagen