his fingers again. “Door locks are probably the only one people would recognize.” He huffs and shakes his head.
And Avery can’t say he hasn’t noticed that Alejandro checks doors to ensure they’re locked before unlocking them, but he’s never really thought twice about it. “Valet must fuck you up.” He blinks, then his eyes go wide. “Your elevator opens right to your apartment.”
“It does,” Alejandro says. “There’s a lock—only my keycard activates it, which means the staff can’t access the penthouse without my specifically allowing it. Sometimes it—” He licks his lips and glances away like he’s in pain, then he shrugs. “Sometimes it doesn’t bother me at all. And sometimes I panic, and I spiral. But I get through it. I’ve been living with this most of my life.”
Avery can’t stop himself. He reaches over and grazes his fingers over Alejandro’s knuckles, just to feel his warm skin. “I’m sorry you have to deal with that.”
Alejandro smiles a little sadly. “I’ve dealt with worse. And honestly more often than not, things are fine. I’ve never figured out what triggers the worst of it—it’s always been random. I wish I could have someone crawl in my brain and at least order my compulsions, you know? If they can’t get rid of them, at least make them consistent, but they are what they are.”
Avery thinks that must be hell, but apart from his grief, Alejandro seems to flow like water in a river. Some bits are rougher than others, but mostly he’s steady, and he’s powerful.
“I like you,” he blurts out, and he doesn’t really mean to, but when Alejandro lights up, he knows he doesn’t want to take it back. “It’s not like I have some OCD fetish or anything, but I like the person you are, so…”
As he trails off, Alejandro rises from his chair. There’s a second Avery thinks he’s about to get kissed again, but instead, the older man pulls out his phone which Avery realizes is buzzing. “Sorry,” he says, looking oddly nervous and yet something else…happy, maybe? “I have to take this.”
He walks off after that, toward the office, and Avery sits back in his seat and tries not to feel dismissed. And he knows he isn’t. Alejandro is busy, and Avery has no right to feel like he’s being slighted because he has to take a call. Besides, there’s no point in trying to put a damper on the day. It was one of the most perfect he’s ever had, and he wants to hold that close to his chest for the rest of his life.
Rising from the table, he glances around at the remnants of their meal then through the doorway at where the candles are still burning in the window. There’s a small pool of wax beneath the chanukiah, and he remembers being a kid and getting yelled at for dipping his fingertips in it and rolling it into little wax balls. It makes him smile and miss his parents a little, but the ache has been soothed most of the day.
He’s been distracted by hand-holding and soft kisses. Alejandro kept in close while he was perusing curio shops for things his mom would like, and bookstalls for old prints he knows his dad will love. They ate lunch, watched the snow fall, then got the hot chocolate Avery had been trying to avoid while they watched the little kids skating around the rink without a care in the world. It felt like he’d stepped into another life, but he desperately wants to believe that he could belong here.
Alejandro has given him hints, not promises, but they feel real. They have substance and form. He feels like he’s right around the corner from something big—something with meaning.
Avery feels strangely lonely out there in the living room, but he doesn’t want to bother his lover, so he walks into the master bedroom to wait for him there. The evidence of their night before is hidden by a fresh duvet and fluffed pillows. The discarded clothes have been taken to the laundry, and everything is in its place. The only thing untouched is the bathroom—a smear of toothpaste on the pristine faucet, a towel on the floor.
He wonders if that’s an Alejandro thing—that the housekeeper doesn’t go in there. He wants to ask. He wants to know all the things that keep Alejandro happy and functional because he never wants to cross lines with him. He feels sappy and soft, and he kind of