Chapter 39 Ready To Go Home
"You're seven minutes late."
"Sorry. Had to deal with something."
Alessandro's expression softened slightly, concern flickering across his features. "Is Mr. Falcone alright? I saw him come in. He looked..."
"Stressed. He's fine. Just working through some things." Cedric took his position near his section, adjusting his shirt. "Where do you need me tonight?"
The shift started, and Cedric fell into the familiar rhythm that had become second nature over the past weeks. Drinks poured with practiced precision, bottles served with a smile, small talk made with customers who were already several rounds in and getting louder by the minute. The club was packed~Fridays always were~and the energy was good, electric even. People laughing, dancing, spending money like it would regenerate overnight, like Monday and reality were a million years away.
Around ten, Cedric felt eyes on him, that prickling sensation of being watched. He looked up to find one of the security monitors angled directly at his section, the camera's red light blinking. Falcone, watching from his office two floors down. Making sure he was safe. Making sure he was okay. The thought should have been unsettling, but instead it was comforting in a way Cedric couldn't quite articulate.
Cedric caught the camera's eye and smiled. Gave a small wave, feeling a little silly. Went back to work.
His phone buzzed an hour later: You look beautiful when you're working. It's distracting.
Cedric smiled at the screen, warmth spreading through his chest, typed back: You're supposed to be relaxing, not watching me.
Watching you is relaxing. Seeing you safe and happy is the only thing keeping me sane right now.
Still sweet when you're spiraling.
Still panicking. But slightly less so.
Good. Keep breathing. I'll see you in a few hours.
The night wore on in a blur of motion and noise. More drinks, more customers, more of the same pleasant tedium that came with service work~the repetition that could be either soothing or mind-numbing depending on the day. Natasha caught him during a lull, nudging his shoulder with hers.
"You okay? You seem distracted."
"Just thinking about tomorrow."
"Your mom's visit. Right." She leaned against the bar, watching him with that perceptive look she sometimes got. "You really love him, don't you? Like, actually love him. Not just... I don't know. Going along with it because it's better than the alternative."
Cedric thought about Falcone in his office, probably still watching the monitors, probably still overthinking everything. Thought about him spiraling in the library, terrified of being seen as a monster, of being rejected. Thought about the way he held Cedric at night like he was afraid he'd disappear, like he might wake up and find this had all been a dream.
"Yeah," he said quietly, surprised by how true it felt when he said it out loud. "I really love him. Which is insane, but….."
"Love usually is." Natasha smiled, but there was something sad in it. "The good kind anyway. The boring kind is easy. It's the crazy, complicated, shouldn't-work-but-does kind that's worth having. That's the kind that changes you."
"Is that from a greeting card?"
"It's from experience. My ex was complicated. We fought constantly, made each other crazy, probably shouldn't have worked at all." Her smile turned sadder, more distant. "But I've never loved anyone like I loved him. Probably never will again."
"What happened?"
"He got deported. Immigration raid at his job. One day he was there, the next he was gone." She shrugged, but Cedric could see the old pain in her eyes. "I tried to help him stay but…didn't matter what we wanted. Sometimes love isn't enough when the system's against you, when the world doesn't want you to be together."
Cedric didn't know what to say to that. The injustice of it sat heavy in his chest, made him think about all the ways the world could pull people apart.
"Anyway," Natasha continued, shaking off the sadness like water, "my point is…if you found something real, even if it's complicated, hold onto it. Because that stuff's rare. Most people spend their whole lives looking for what you have."
"I'm trying."
"Good. Now get back to work before Alessandro has an aneurysm. He's been eyeing us for the past thirty seconds."
The rest of the shift passed in a blur of familiar motions. By two AM, Cedric's feet hurt and his face hurt from smiling and all he wanted was to go home and sleep for twelve hours. He collected his tips….a ridiculous amount, even by Elysium's standards~and made his way down to Falcone's office, his legs heavy with exhaustion.
He was exactly where Cedric had left him, sitting on the couch with his laptop. But the laptop was closed now, pushed aside, and he was just staring at the security monitors with a distant expression, his face lit by the flickering screens.
"Hey," Cedric said softly, not wanting to startle him. "Ready to go home?"
Falcone looked up, and his face transformed immediately. The distance disappeared, replaced by something warm and present, something that made Cedric's chest feel tight in a good way. "How was your shift?"
"Good. Easy. Made bank in tips." Cedric crossed to the couch, collapsing beside him with a groan. "How was your evening of watching me work and spiraling?"
"About as productive as you'd expect." Falcone pulled Cedric against his side, pressing a kiss to his temple, his lips warm. "But watching you helped. Seeing you happy and safe and good at what you do…it helped."
"I pour drinks. It's not exactly brain surgery."
"You do more than pour drinks. You make people feel welcome. Seen. Like they matter, like someone's paying attention to them." Falcone's arm tightened around him. "That's a gift. Not everyone has that."
Cedric turned his face into Falcone's shoulder, suddenly overwhelmed by everything. By the compliment, by the long night, by tomorrow looming large and inevitable just hours away now. "Can we just go home? I'm tired and my feet hurt and I want to sleep."
"Of course." Falcone stood, pulling Cedric with him, steadying him when he swayed slightly. "Let's go home."
Home. Not the mansion. Not Falcone's house. Home.
When had it become that? When had this place~this life~stopped being temporary and started being real?
The drive back was quiet, Cedric half-asleep with his head on Falcone's shoulder, their fingers interlaced, thumb stroking across knuckles in an absent, soothing rhythm. Marco drove in comfortable silence, giving them space for whatever this moment was, this peaceful bubble before everything changed.
When they arrived, the mansion was dark except for a few security lights casting long shadows across the grounds. Everyone else was asleep or gone for the night. The house felt empty in a way it rarely did~like they were the only two people in the world, like the rest of humanity had disappeared and left them alone together.
They climbed the stairs together, moving toward Falcone's bedroom without discussion, without needing to say it out loud. Cedric didn't want to sleep alone tonight. Didn't want to lie in his own bed thinking about tomorrow, working himself into the same spiral Falcone had been in, imagining all the ways it could go wrong.
They undressed in silence, the routine familiar now after weeks of sharing this space. Falcone's t-shirt, the soft one Cedric had claimed as his favorite. Cedric's borrowed one that was getting worn at the collar. The bed that was becoming as much his as Falcone's, sheets that smelled like both of them now.
"Thank you," Falcone said as they settled under the covers, the darkness wrapping around them. "For tonight. For grounding me when I was losing it."
"That's what you do when you love someone. You ground them when they're spiraling." Cedric pressed himself against Falcone's side, finding his heartbeat with his palm, feeling its steady rhythm. "Tomorrow, you'll do the same for me."
"Tomorrow." Falcone's hand found Cedric's hair, fingers threading through it in that way that always made Cedric want to fall asleep. "It'll be here in a few hours."
"Yeah."
"Are you scared?"
"Terrified."
"Me too."
They held each other in the darkness, two people on the edge of something that could change everything, standing at a precipice they couldn't see the bottom of. Outside, the city hummed with its endless noise. Inside, their hearts beat in uncertain rhythm, slightly out of sync.
"Whatever happens," Cedric whispered into the quiet, "we face it together. Right?"
"Right." Falcone's voice was firm despite the fear underneath, despite everything. "Together. Always."
Cedric closed his eyes and tried to believe it.
Tried to believe that tomorrow wouldn't break them.
Tried to believe that love~messy and complicated and imperfect~could be enough.
Sleep came eventually, fitful and dream-filled. Cedric woke twice in the night, anxiety spiking like a sudden fever, his heart racing for reasons he couldn't quite name, only to be soothed back to sleep by Falcone's hands and voice and presence, by the steady reassurance of not being alone.
When morning came, pale and hesitant through the windows, the sunlight thin and uncertain, Cedric woke to find Falcone already awake beside him, staring at the ceiling.
"Couldn't sleep?" Cedric asked, his voice rough with sleep.
"Dozed a bit. Mostly just lay here thinking."
"About?"
"Everything. Tomorrow. Today, now. Your mother. What I'll say, how I'll act, whether I should—" He stopped, laughed without humor, the sound hollow in the quiet room. "I'm spiraling again."
"I know." Cedric kissed his shoulder, tasting salt and skin. "But we're going to get through this. One moment at a time. One hour at a time. Until dinner is over and we can breathe again."
"And if it goes badly?"
"Then we deal with that too." Cedric propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at Falcone's face in the early morning light, at the shadows under his eyes. "But I don't think it will. I think my mom is going to see what I see. Someone trying their best with what they've been given. Someone who loves her son. That's all she really wants~to know I'm happy and safe."
"I hope you're right."
"Me too."
They lay there for a while longer, watching the sun rise over the city through the gap in the curtains, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. Saturday had arrived, ready or not.
And in a few hours, everything would change.
Or everything would stay the same.
Or something in between that they couldn't predict, couldn't control, could only hope for.
All they could do was hope.