CHAPTER 254: CHAPTER 254: BACK HOME

The morning light was soft, pale gold spilling across the sheets and the slow rise of the curtains. The sea breeze drifted through the cracked balcony door, carrying salt and a faint coolness that only existed before the day fully woke.

Elias surfaced from sleep gradually, the way one rises from warm water.

Victor was wrapped around him.

One arm curled beneath Elias’ neck, the other draped around his waist, as if his body wanted to keep Elias close even while he slept. Their legs were tangled beneath the sheets, the covers kicked low from the heat they’d made in the night.

Elias didn’t move at first; he just breathed and admired the view from their bed.

Victor’s scent was everywhere: smoke, clean skin, and the faint sweetness of Elias’s own lingering underneath. The room still felt full of them, in a way that it felt more like home than the suite of a hotel.

Victor stirred before waking; Elias could feel the shift of his chest behind him, the slow inhale at his hairline.

A moment later, Victor’s voice, low, unguarded, and rough with sleep, rested against his ear.

"Stay a bit longer."

Elias’s lips curved, amused. "I wasn’t going anywhere."

Victor tightened his arm just slightly. A lazy, satisfied gesture made by someone who believes that the world cannot take anything from them here.

The silence stretched comfortably.

Sunlight dusted along Elias’s shoulder. The sheets were warm. The ocean murmured somewhere beyond the balcony railings.

Eventually, Elias shifted enough to roll onto his back, and Victor followed easily, chin tipping down so their faces were close, too close for rational thought, and perfectly close for morning softness.

Victor blinked once, slowly. His eyes were still dark from sleep, lids heavy, expression utterly unguarded in a way Elias rarely got to see unless the world was very quiet.

"You’re staring," Elias murmured.

"I’m looking," Victor corrected, voice still husky. "There’s a difference."

Elias raised an eyebrow. "And what are you looking at?"

Victor didn’t hesitate. "You."

"And what do you think?"

Victor’s hand came up and brushed Elias’s cheek once, his thumb tracing the faint pillow crease there.

"What do I think?" Victor said at last, voice low and still a little thick with sleep. "I think you look at peace."

Elias exhaled softly, knowing exactly what Victor was talking about. When they reconciled and Elias realized Jonathan had at last died, something in him relaxed.

"That’s rare," he murmured.

"It shouldn’t be." Victor’s answer was quiet.

They didn’t talk for a while. The room was warm. The sheets were soft and smelled faintly of detergent and their mixed scents. The balcony door was cracked open just enough for the morning air to move through. The ocean could be heard, steady and distant.

Victor’s arm stayed around Elias’s waist. Elias didn’t move away.

Eventually, Victor said, "I’ve been thinking."

Elias gave a small sound, more exhale than word. "Yes?"

"We should go home," Victor said. "There’s nothing here we need anymore."

Elias was quiet for a couple seconds, thinking briefly about how excited Victor had been on the plane getting here. The almost childlike anticipation. The plans that did not happen.

"Alright," he said. "We can leave today."

Victor’s eyes opened fully. "No hesitation?"

"No," Elias said. "I’m ready to go. But..." he paused, "I am disappointed this wasn’t the mock honeymoon we wanted."

Victor didn’t look disappointed. Of course he didn’t look disappointed.

He looked smug.

"Technically," Victor said, "we did have a honeymoon."

"That’s not what a honeymoon is," Elias said flatly.

Victor shifted closer, arm tightening around him in a slow pull that was not subtle. "We relaxed. We spent time together. You laughed. You enjoyed ice cream. There was intimacy." His tone made it clear which part he was counting as the winning argument. "That meets several standard criteria."

Elias stared at him. "Did you just define honeymoon like it’s an invoice?"

"Yes," Victor said, completely unbothered. "And I believe we met the requirements."

"That’s not..." Elias stopped himself, closed his eyes, inhaled, and then spoke again, slower. "Victor."

"Yes?" Victor said, already sounding satisfied, as if he had won something.

Elias regretted being considerate. Not actually regretted it, but regretted it enough to need distance before Victor’s smugness escalated into something he couldn’t recover from this morning.

"I’m going to shower," Elias said, pushing the covers off and sitting up.

Victor’s hand slid from his waist to his lower back in one long, confident line. "Do you need help?"

"No," Elias said immediately, standing.

Victor leaned back against the pillows, hands behind his head, looking like the kind of man who absolutely thought he deserved applause. "Take your time. I’ll be here. Thinking about last night."

Elias didn’t look at him.

"That is not helpful," he said, already halfway to the bathroom.

"It is helpful for me," Victor called after him.

The bathroom door shut firmly and Victor smiled to himself.

—

The flight home was quiet.

The jet cabin lights were dim, set to a warm amber that reflected softly off the polished wood and cream leather seats. Outside the windows, the sky was dark, the coastline long since gone, only the occasional scatter of distant city lights breaking the black.

Elias sat with his seat reclined halfway, blanket over his legs, and one hand resting absently on his stomach. He wasn’t necessarily tired. Just comfortable. His body liked the stillness.

Victor sat across from him, entirely too awake for someone who had spent the morning being insufferably affectionate. He had his laptop open, and although he wasn’t typing, the posture alone meant he was doing something.

He had that look.

The practiced-neutral expression always meant he had made a decision and was simply waiting to see how the world reacted to it.

Elias watched him for a few seconds.

"...You’re planning something," Elias finally said.

Victor didn’t look up. "I plan many things."

"That isn’t an answer."

"That’s because you asked an ambiguous question."

Elias exhaled slowly through his nose. "Right."

He didn’t press, if Victor wanted him to ask, he’d be more obvious about it.

Instead, he opened his tablet to check the backlog of messages he’d ignored during the trip.

The notifications loaded. His calendar synced. The color red filled the screen.

The entire upcoming month was blocked out in intense, alarming wedding red.

Elias blinked once, then twice while scrolling between the tabs that weren’t there a week ago.

Ceremony rehearsals.

Location reviews.

Guest lists.

Attire fittings.

Press coordination.

Family dinners.

He stared at the screen for a long moment.

Then slowly lifted his eyes.

Victor was already watching him. Of course he was. There was not even the courtesy of pretending otherwise.

"...Victor," Elias said, calm. Very calm.

"Yes?" Victor asked, tone mild. Pleasant. Like this was a normal amount of life upheaval to plan on a private flight because you were bored.

Elias held up the tablet. "Why is my calendar red?"

"It is the color code for events requiring preparation," Victor answered, perfectly serene while stretching his legs.

"I gathered that," Elias said. "Why is it full of them?"

"We are getting married," Victor said simply, as if giving the weather report.

Elias stared, trying his best to not tackle the man. "We agreed to talk about the wedding timeline."

"We are talking," Victor said, gesturing vaguely between them.

"This is not..." Elias paused, closed his eyes, recentered, and reopened them. "This is not what ’talking’ means."

Victor leaned back in his seat, fingers loosely interlaced, expression the very picture of satisfaction.

"The others were busy while we were away," he said. "That calendar is not mine... Ego had organized it."

Victor’s tone stayed maddeningly even.

"My father is thorough," he added, as though that explained everything.

Elias just stared at him.

"...Ego," he repeated, making sure he had heard correctly.