Come On Over (21 page)

He
picks up the controller again, with an overly casual shrug.

"It's
going
well
," Dominic corrects
him, and Isaac punches him in the arm. "But for real. You like her?"

Isaac
fidgets a little, eyes on the TV.

"Yeah,"
he says, sounding surprisingly sincere. "I think I do." Dominic gives
him a pointed eyebrow-raise, and he catches it when he glances at him.
"Fine, yes. I like her. A lot, actually."

He
sinks deeper into the cushions of Dominic's worn-out couch, a slightly
self-conscious look on his face as his cheeks burn a shade redder. It's
adorable.

It
has been slightly cooler outside for a few days now, so Dominic's apartment
isn't quite as hot as it normally is, allowing the two of them to actually
spend time there. Dominic can't really remember the last time he spent longer
than a night at his own place―he has been practically living at Killian's
lately, after all. It's nice to be reminded that he still has a life out in the
world, even if it does feel slightly more boring these days, whenever Killian
isn't around.

"Hey,
apropos of nothing," Isaac says after a moment, clearly trying to steer
away from the current conversation-topic; he has always been reserved when it
comes to stuff like that, ever since he and Dominic were kids, and Dominic lets
him have it. "Any job-offers yet?"

Dominic
shakes his head, sighing.

"Nope,"
he says. "I'm not really expecting any. I mean yeah, considering the
amount of potential employers I've made aware of my existence and skills, it's
statistically probable that I'll get at least an offer or two, but I like to
think of myself as a realist."

It's
not an exaggeration. Dominic has only spent a few years in the world of
photography freelancing, sure, but he learned early on that the competition is
very hard. He has learned to expect practically nothing, at least not this
early on in his career, and it's just easier to be cynical.

"Nah,
you'll get there," Isaac says, sinking deeper into the cushions―he's
nearly lying down, at this point, controller lazily held between splayed legs
as he watches the TV screen. "All good things, and all that, right?"

Dominic
turns to his friend, and the sincere grin on Isaac's face is contagious, making
him slightly more optimistic.

♦

"What's
your family like?"

The
question seems to take Killian by surprise, and he looks up at Dominic, who's
standing next to the stove in his kitchen, in the process of cutting up some
carrots. The two of them are actually cooking, for once, and although Dominic
realizes how sudden his question is in the middle of this casual domesticity,
he has been wondering. He half-turns to face Killian, keeps his eyes on him as
he does the same where he stands by the kitchen isle, cutting up some meat.

Killian
frowns.

"I
think you have a pretty good idea, already," he says, but Dominic doesn't
let him slip away despite the flippant tone.

"I'm
serious," he says. "You never talk about them, and now that I know
the crazy stuff, I'm kind of curious about the rest."

It's
not like he has told Killian everything about his own family, mostly because
there isn't that much to tell, but he's still like an open book about that, in
comparison. After everything that has been revealed in the last few days, he
feels like there's suddenly a whole new well of knowledge and information about
Killian that he wants to take part of, especially now that they're in an actual
relationship―which he still can't quite wrap his head around, by the way.
He needs to know, wants to know everything there is to know about this guy.

They
keep their gazes locked for a few seconds, before Killian sighs in defeat.

"What
do you want to know?" he says. Dominic shrugs lightly,
 
refraining from sharing his thoughts on just
that. He turns to lean against the counter, knife still in hand.

"Any
brothers or sisters?" he asks, and Killian scratches the back of his head in
a gesture that seems uncomfortable and considering, at the same time. He
glances down at the cutting board in front of him, lines up the chunk of beef
unnecessarily.

"Three,"
he says. "Two older, one younger."

Dominic's
eyebrows go up.

"Wow,"
he says. "Didn't see that coming."

"Why
not?"

"Because,"
Dominic says, cocking his head. "You've got this lone wolf vibe about you,
I guess. I don't know, it's just a little surprising."

Killian
sighs, meeting his eye.

"Yeah,
well," he says, "we're not exactly close. I mean, my big brother is
okay, I guess. He's married with a kid, and everything. My sister is a bitch
most of the time, and my little brother is still in high school. Two are
already following in my parents' footsteps, and the youngest... Well, he doesn't
really do much of anything. At least, not yet."

Dominic
nods, takes in the information. For some reason, he gets a little rush at the
prospect of getting to know Killian better. Killian is on board with it, too;
it's as though he sees no point in hiding anything anymore, at least not from
Dominic.

It
makes Dominic feel stupidly happy and content.

"What
do your parents do, anyway?" he asks, remembering how they're supposedly
very rich. This time, Killian groans, glancing away while Dominic absently puts
the knife down in favor of folding his arms over his chest.

"My
dad," Killian starts, slowly cutting the meat and keeping his eyes on it.
"He's partner in a pretty big law firm, and he's just as much of an
asshole as you'd expect from that kind of guy. My mom's a lawyer too, at the
same place, like my brother. Mom's less of an asshole, but still pretty bad,
when she needs to be."

Dominic
nods, listening intently. It's obvious that just talking about his parents and
family puts Killian on edge, irritates him, and so Dominic tries to steer away
from it.

"What
about your grandma?" he asks, and this time, Killian reacts a bit more
strongly. He looks over his shoulder and meets Dominic's gaze, an odd look on
his face. "It's just, you've mentioned her before. What was she
like?"

Killian
seems to deliberate. Dominic remembers last time he asked this question;
old
, was Killian's curt answer. He's
hoping for a bit more, this time.

"Tough,"
Killian eventually says, relaxing his shoulders. His tone is softer, if only
slightly. "Low tolerance for bullshit. Kind. I liked her."

Dominic
wants to smile when he sees the look on his boyfriend's face.

"What
was her name?" he asks.

"
Siobhán
," Killian says. He cocks his head. "Super
Irish, I know. She moved here with my grandpa back in the stone age, but he
died a few years after my dad was born. She ended up raising my dad pretty much
on her own, which is pretty badass, I think. Not that it made him a cuddly
person or anything, but..."

He
shrugs, turning back to the cutting board. Dominic hesitates.

"Were
you close?" he says, and Killian lets out a sigh. Dominic worries that
maybe he's pushing too hard, but Killian's demeanor suggests otherwise.

"You
could say that," he says, not looking up. "Like I said, I was pretty
unpopular with my parents pretty early on, deviating from the family norm, and
all that. Grandma called them out on it, kept telling me that I shouldn't let
it get to me. She encouraged me instead, encouraged my art, my interests. When
I came out in high school, she encouraged that too. I mean, she was a little
thrown by it, but she had an easier time accepting it than my parents, so it
helped. Honestly, I'm not sure I would've had the balls to come out in the
first place, if it weren't for her."

Dominic
is a little taken aback by the sincerity in Killian's tone, the softness, and
he feels the urge to hug him, for some reason.

Killian
effectively stops him before he has the chance, sighing as he turns to look at
him.

"So,
yeah," Killian says with a lightness that sounds a little forced. He
quirks a smile, shrugs. "She's been gone for three years, now. I got the
tattoo a few weeks after she died, it made me feel better."

He
gestures redundantly at the side of his chest, where the writing Dominic has
traced with his fingers so many times now is etched into his skin, underneath
his clothes. Dominic smiles a little.

"Wish
I could've met her," he says. "She sounds pretty cool."

Killian
nods, puts the knife down and wipes his hands off on a towel, as he turns and
makes his way across the tiny space between the counter and the kitchen isle.
Dominic doesn't move, keeps his arms folded over his chest, and Killian leans
up to plant the smallest kiss on his lips.

"She
would've liked you," he says, and somehow, it's enough to make Dominic
smile with a warm sense of pride in his chest.

Chapter 14

Courage

It's the sound
of a phone vibrating that breaks through Dominic's sleepy haze. He groans
tiredly, hoping that the disturbance might die out if he ignores it, but no
luck. He ends up fumbling blindly for his phone on Killian's nightstand, almost
knocking something down in the process, and he presses the answer button,
bringing the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"
he says, voice cracked from sleep and eyes still closed.

"Good
morning," a female voice says on the other end. "I'm looking for a
Dominic Spencer."

"Speaking."

"Mr.
Spencer," the woman continues. "My name is
Lisbeth
Oakley, and I'm calling from
Vagabond
Trail
magazine. We’ve been looking over your portfolio, and we're very
impressed with your work. And I must say, your references are excellent."

Dominic's
eyes fly open as he sits up in bed, instantly wide awake. Killian grumbles
sleepily beside him at the commotion.

"Okay?"
Dominic says dumbly, grimacing at his own lack of tact.

"Yes,"
Ms. Oakley says, either not noticing, or politely ignoring Dominic's fuddled
state. "We have an assignment in mind that might suit you, it would
require traveling for a few months. Is that something you'd be interested
in?"

Dominic
blinks, rubbing his eyes with one hand and trying to pull his thoughts
together. He remembers sending off his portfolio to this particular magazine,
just one of the dozens he had on his list. It was months ago, but he's sure of
it.

"Uh,
yeah," he says eloquently. "Where to?"

"Southeast
Asia," Ms. Oakley says, to Dominic's surprise. "You'd be covering a
few designated areas and provinces, expenses covered by the magazine, of
course. The assignment would start early September."

Dominic
swings his legs over the edge of the bed, his mind reeling. He tries to think
of anything that might get in the way of something like that, but then
instantly remembers that he is a freelancer after all, and that he doesn't
exactly have a set work schedule after the summer. He nods, before realizing
that the woman on the line can't see that.

"Sounds
great," he says, trying his best to sound like a non-fumbling adult. It's
not something he has ever been particularly good at, and he's fairly certain
that he's failing miserably. "I mean, yeah, I'm definitely
interested."

"That's
good to hear," Ms. Oakley says. "As of now, you are definitely our
strongest candidate, and the assignment is yours if you want it. I'd be happy
to give you a call once the details have been ironed out. How does that
sound?"

Dominic
nods.

"Sounds
good," he says, essentially repeating himself but trying not to care.
"I look forward to hearing from you."

"We'll
be in touch," Ms. Oakley says. "Have a nice day."

"Thank
you, you too."

The
woman hangs up, and Dominic just sits there for a few seconds, blinking
dazedly. He brings the phone down from his ear and stares at the screen, trying
to comprehend that that call really just happened.

He
actually got offered a job, a real assignment, for a travel magazine. He just
got offered to travel around Asia for months, just taking photos, while getting
paid for it. It's nothing short of a dream come true, and he takes a deep,
grounding breath as it sinks in.

Killian
stirs behind him, making him snap out of his daze.

"The
fuck are you up for?" Killian mumbles, sounding genuinely confused at
Dominic's alertness, and Dominic puts the phone down on the nightstand.

"No
reason," he says, suddenly buzzing and restless. Killian grumbles.

"Then
come back to bed," he says sleepily, reaching for Dominic's arm. The
invitation it more than a little appealing, and Dominic considers it, before
that restlessness distracts him completely and he gets up from where he sits.

"Actually,"
he says. "I, uh―"

He
cuts himself off. He can't imagine why, but he suddenly feels the need to get
out of here, to get some air and clear his head.

"I
gotta go," he settles on. "I'm meeting my sister."

Killian
opens his eyes, blinking against the daylight. He picks up his phone and checks
the time.

"It's
fucking eight-thirty in the morning," he says, outraged and exhausted, and
Dominic shrugs as he quickly gets dressed.

"Breakfast
thing," he says. "Promised my parents I'd stop by, haven't been home
in ages."

It's
not a lie, per se; he has promised no such thing to his parents or Alina, at
least not concretely, but it is true that hasn't been back at the family house
in a very long time.

"Can't
you cancel?" Killian asks, with the tone of someone who would rather not
get out of bed at all. Dominic smiles, putting on a t-shirt and moving over to
the bed. He kneels on the mattress, leans down to give Killian a kiss on the
mouth, and he's stunned by just how amazing that little touch feels. It
resonates through his entire body, and he wonders if he'll ever get used to it.

"I'll
be back later," he says, Killian sleepily looking up at him and absently
touching his cheek with his fingers. "Okay?"

Killian
seems to mull it over.

"Fine,"
he says, bringing their lips together in another kiss. "Don't be too
long."

"I'll
try."

It
takes a lot for Dominic to tear himself away from Killian's warm body and head
out the door, but he manages, all the while vaguely wondering what the hell
he's doing.

♦

"So,
I got a job."

Alina
looks up, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah?"
she says, and Dominic nods.

"Yeah,"
he says. "Well, it's not totally decided yet, but pretty much. It's an
assignment, a few months' traveling in Asia."

"That's
awesome." Alina shoves his arm, with an expression of surprised approval.
"Magazine?"

"
Vagabond Trail
," Dominic says.
"They're not that big, but it's something. I'll finally get to do what I
want."

Alina
smiles as she tosses an apple up and down in her hand, she and her brother
sitting on the steps of the porch behind their old house, gazing out over the
backyard. Their parents were pleased, to say the least, when Dominic stopped by
just in time for breakfast, prompting their dad to make pancakes and insist on
a communal thing around the dining room table. It was nice, and Dominic is kind
of glad he came over―it didn't feel right doing anything else, given
that's what he told Killian he'd be doing.

"I'm
happy for you, little brother," Alina says, taking a bite of the apple.
"You thought it over, though?"

"Thought
what over?" Dominic says a bit too quickly, frowning. "What's to
think over?"

Alina
shrugs, glancing over her shoulder. The sound of plates and voices can be heard
from inside, their parents having insisted on cleaning up, for some reason.

"Oh,
I don't know," she says, mouth full. She turns back to Dominic.
"Maybe a certain artist you're dating."

Dominic's
heart sinks. It's not like he hasn't thought about it; after the first few
seconds of incredible bliss and joy following this morning's phone call, his mind
did immediately go to Killian after all, and more importantly, what it might
mean for the two of them. But then he panicked, and simply ran out, rather than
filling him in.

He
doesn't want to leave Killian behind, but then again, he doesn't want to stay
here because of him either. He wouldn't want to stay because of anyone, not
when he's so close to finally getting what is quite literally his dream job.
But that's not what's really bothering him.

"I
don't know," he says, looking down and plucking at some loose threads
unraveling a hole in his jeans. "I mean, we’re not that serious. He might
not even think it's an issue."

Alina
stops chewing, raises her eyebrows as she swallows down the bite of fruit.

"Not
that serious?" she says. "You're a couple now, remember? As in
totally legit boyfriends. Not to mention, with that whole engagement-thing, I'm
pretty sure you're already in deeper than what is considered normal for such a
short span of dating."

Dominic
wonders if it was a good idea to tell her about all of that, but he must admit
that she has a point. He sighs, looks up to watch their white bulldog pant
happily on the grass, already exhausted from running around in the morning sun.

"Maybe,"
he says. "I'm just not sure he sees it the same way."

Alina
doesn't immediately reply, just watches the dog thoughtfully, as well. Dominic
remembers when Portia was just a puppy, a slobbering little thing that kept
tripping over herself whenever Dominic and Alina tried chasing her around. That
was over ten years ago, and somehow it feels like just yesterday, sitting here
on the back porch in the sun. Granted, she still slobbers, which Dominic is
unpleasantly reminded of when the dog runs over to him with a ball in her mouth
and drops it in his outstretched hand, wagging her tail as she watches him
expectantly. He scratches her head, full of childish affection for the old, yet
puppy-like creature.

"You
could always ask him, you know," Alina says, dragging Dominic's thoughts
back to Killian. "I haven't met him, but he strikes me as the kind of guy
who wouldn't want to be kept in the dark about something like that. Especially
not considering your recent history."

Dominic
knows she's right. He gestures at Portia to sit down, before throwing the ball
across the yard and watching the dog chase after it.

"Well,
what if he doesn't care as much as I expect him to?" he says, a little
shocked by just how hard that notion hits him, as well as the way his voice
softens with uncharacteristic insecurity. "I mean, we've only known each
other for a few weeks, and we defined our relationship like, five minutes ago.
What if he thinks it's just a summer thing, anyway? What if he just laughs at
me for even bringing this up, or seeing it as an issue?"

He
can imagine it, can see the flat, bored look on Killian's face as he raises an
eyebrow. Granted, Dominic hasn't seen any of that for a while, and he knows the
assumption might be a little unfair at this point, but he still worries. He had
to practically drag Killian to the place they're at now, after all.

"Then
that's his loss," Alina says simply. "And you're better off without
him."

Dominic
turns to his sister, looks into her hazel eyes which really are the only thing
about her appearance that doesn't mirror his. He gives her a small smile.

"I
guess," he says in non-committal response to her conclusion, wishing it
were that simple.

It may be a
cowardly move, but Dominic ends up not immediately going back to Killian's
place. Instead, he picks up a shift at the store, offering to cover for Alina
in the slow hours of late morning―a move which she calls him out on
immediately, of course. She makes her thoughts known on just how much of a
cop-out it is, but doesn't object to the free time she is suddenly presented
with, and Dominic ends up pacing the mostly empty store on his own. He tries
not to feel too guilty as he texts Killian, lying and telling him that he was
essentially forced into a work shift. He can't really deal with the real reason
for his avoidance, just yet.

It's
boring work, but that comes as no surprise. Dominic has spent enough hours at
this place throughout his teenage years to be intimately aware with that fact,
and today is no different. He prefers it, though; at least it gives him some
time to think about the best way to deal with this whole job-offer situation
and Killian's involvement in it all.

It's
about two hours into his shift, when Dominic is bent down and tidying up some
shelves near the floor, that his boredom is interrupted, snapping him out of
his daze.

"Dominic
Spencer?"

Dominic
looks up at the sound of his name, being asked it for the second time today,
and when he straightens, he's met with the sight of a person who is just as
unfamiliar as the voice that just spoke. He glances around the store; there's
no one here but the two of them.

"Yes?"
he says, looking back at the stranger and turning the confirmation into a
question with his uncertainty. The woman standing in front of him looks oddly
determined, as though she has come in here before, in unsuccessful attempts at
finding him.

"My
name is Bridget," she says, without preamble. "I'd like to talk to
you, if you have a moment."

Dominic
just blinks, confused. The woman appears to be in her mid-twenties, her long,
dark―almost black―hair pulled away from her face and spilling over
her shoulders in soft, big curls. Her eyes are hard, her entire posture firm
and strangely authoritative, and Dominic gets the distinct impression that this
type of store isn't one she often finds herself in. At least, judging from her
cream blouse and dark pencil skirt, which would make her look more at home in a
high-end office building.