S.M

Chapter One/Temporary Epilogue

A cold breeze cut through his thin jacket as Will climbed out of the car. Autumn had taken hold of the country early this year. It was only first week of August, and even the leaves of the oak trees lining the front of the sleek, Glenlo building were fading to brown—though that could be more to do with the city air than the weather.

Will punched in the code Gabriel had text him and the front door buzzed open. There was no lobby, only doors with numbers written on them. He went through the one that indicated '201-210' and trotted up the stairs. Outside '203' he stopped.

Gabriel had said to go straight in, the door was open. But Will was nervous. It had been months since he'd seen Gabriel in person. They started texting after Will turned eighteen, and then started calling, but that was different from meeting face to face. What if things had changed between them? What if months apart had let the fire between them turn cold? What if Will felt the same, but Gabriel didn't?

He rubbed his sides and winced at the old habit of insecurity. He pretended he'd just been smoothing out the white shirt. Since he'd last seen Gabriel, he'd put on weight. Not fat, just weight. Enough that his ribs didn't poke out, and enough that he could work out without energy crashes. Just enough that he could still breathe easy when he looked at his reflection. Laragh, his therapist, said mental changes could take years before catching up to what the body could do. She said not to rush it.

His mental functions were certainly lagging today.

"Just go in." Dune didn't waste any time saying hi when he answered the phone.

Will wondered away from the door, keeping his voice soft so Gabriel didn't hear. "I'm nervous. I'm crazy nervous, I think my heart might stop if it doesn't chill out."

"Go in. And stop worrying about your appearance, you look great. Okay?"

"Okay" Will echoed.

"It'll be okay. You're just nervous. Take a deep breath and go inside. If you can get an A in a math exam, you can go through that door."

Dune, as always, was the master of pep talks.

"You'll run this country some day."

There was a low chuckle, then; "You got this."

Will stood in front of the '203' door again. He tried to call up the courage and certainty he'd felt on the drive up, when he went so far as to stop at a gas station and buy a pack of condoms. And then in the car when he'd stuffed six of them into his back pocket. But seriously, six? God, he felt dumb...

He knocked and pushed the door open. "Hello?"

The entrance way was tiled, decorated with a stand for shoes and a coat rack. Will closed the door behind him, recognising the black coat hanging up. It was warm. A small plume of steam drifted through the first door on his left. Will walked toward it, calling out again. "Gabriel?"

The room opened into a spacious kitchen. It was modern, with black marble counter tops and gleaming silver electronics and a large window along the wall straight ahead of Will. The steam was coming from a pot on the stove with boiling rice. Gabriel was in the middle of tossing a pan's contents—it looked like a stir-fry.

Will's heart stuttered, and the strain against his chest was painful.

Broad shoulders, a flat stomach that led to lean hips, flanked by muscular arms—all of which was shown off by a snug, v-neck black shirt. Gabriel's dark brown curls had been trimmed away at the sides, and even the little swirls at the top had been tamed down into waves. His face was more handsome than Will remembered. Fine features, a firm jaw with at least a weeks scruff, and dark eyelashes that framed even darker, glittering eyes.