When Tanner rushes back down to the living room, Jess is still standing where they left him, unmoving, like he hasn't breathed since Tanner walked away.
Jess turns slowly toward the sound of the footsteps. His face is blank now, drained of color, and he doesn't look directly at Tanner. His voice comes out low, words disintegrating before they're fully formed.
"I... uh... my clothes... I didn't have clothes. Can't leave like this... Clothes, in your room."
The pain in Jess's voice slams into Tanner like a blow to the chest. It deadens him in his tracks.
He isn't even sure why he came back, just that the thought of Jess being gone for real had clawed at his mind until he snapped. But now, facing him, he doesn't know what he's here to do.
To stop him? He doesn't know.
When he doesn't respond, Jess finally meets his eyes. And Tanner's world tilts. Jess's gaze is heavy with unshed tears, glistening but held back with a kind of stubborn pride, like he would rather shatter than let them fall.
They don't fall.
"Clothes," Jess murmurs again, barely audible.
At that moment, footsteps echo in from the hallway. Charlotte's voice slices through the silence. "Tanner?" she calls, approaching.
Without thinking, Tanner grabs Jess's hand. The contact_ warm skin, delicate wrist, and something electric that pulses straight into his bloodstream.
He pulls Jess toward a nearby room, opens the door, nudges him inside, and locks it behind him. Then he steps out, just as Charlotte walks into the living room.
"Yeah?" he answers, too quickly.
Charlotte looks confused, maybe suspicious. "What are..." she begins, but he cuts her off.
"We should leave. It's getting late," Tanner says, moving quickly, already heading for the door.
"But we can stay here. I can stay the night. My father has no problem with that."
Tanner stares at her like she's speaking a foreign language.
"I have something to do at the pack house," he lies, the words coming easier than they should. "I have to be there. Come on."
Charlotte hesitates but follows. "What about the boy?" she asks, casting a glance back.
"He left," Tanner lies again, smoothly this time. "I'll drop you off at home. I'll come for you when I get any free time."
He sounds calm, but inside, he feels completely unhinged. Like he's unraveling thread by thread, unable to stop it.
The drive is a blur. Charlotte speaks occasionally, but he doesn't hear her. His mind is stuck, stuck back at his house.
Stuck on the blank stare, the quiet voice, the way he didn't cry even though everything inside him screamed like he should have.
As soon as he drops her off, Tanner speeds back, stopping only to grab a takeout meal. His hands shake slightly on the wheel, and he doesn't know if it's from adrenaline or panic or something else entirely.
When he gets home, he heads straight for the room where he left Jess.
Jess is still sitting on the bed. A posture, same faraway stare. The shirt he's wearing has ridden up now, and most of his thighs are exposed. He looks soft and breakable, almost too fragile for this room, for this world.
But the sight sends heat surging through Tanner's veins, unwelcome and impossible to ignore.
He holds out the bag. "Food," he says, voice low but firm.
Jess doesn't even blink. His hunger had been gnawing at him earlier, but now... nothing. The pain has swallowed every other need.
He looks at the food like it's meant for someone else. Like he's some caged animal being thrown scraps.
"I'm not hungry," he says. His voice is steady. Too steady.
Tanner's jaw tightens. "I didn't ask if you're hungry," he says quietly. "I said food is here."
Jess gets off the bed, walks past him toward the door. He doesn't make a sound.
But Tanner's hand shoots out, grabbing his wrist.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asks.
The closeness, the heat from Jess's skin ignites his own, wild and uncontainable. It rushes through him like fire. He doesn't think.
In one swift motion, Tanner pulls Jess against him. Jess stumbles into his chest, breath catching.
The contact is enough to make Tanner's head spin. His arms tighten around Jess before he realizes what he's doing.
He's holding him like something both precious and dangerous, as if letting go would hurt just as much as holding on. Like he wants to push him away, but can't bear the thought of doing it.