Throughout his life he felt like he wasn’t a real person. He’d tried, with Meg. Tried to mimic her parents, their casual affection, the way they could touch each other. And he must have pretended well enough, and he’d never been stingy with hugs or back pats or kisses on the cheek with his kids. But there was always a part of him which felt like an alien, some kind of Frankenstein’s monster who looked human but hadn’t quite learned, really, what it meant to be one.

His mother never touched him.

But he wanted this. He—here with Theo—he was ready.

He reached out, shaking, with his right hand, and ran it down Theo’s back, his tattooed skin slick with oil. Theo made a sound, like a great cat purring, and Jack wondered if he could—if maybe he was capable, after all.

He asked a question that had been bothering him for twenty years. “Why wings?”

“Why, Gardner.” Theo smiled into the pillow. “I’m shocked to learn that you don’t think I’m angelic.”

“Oh, right.” Jack flicked his ear, then ran his hand down again. “Come on.”

“Honestly?” Theo pushed back into Jack’s hands, reveling in the touch. “I liked the idea of...flying away. From everything. You know that. And after Father—well. I never wanted to be trapped again. My wings just—remind me. That I have the option.”

“It must have hurt a lot.” He didn’t want to think about Theo being in pain ever again.

“Lots of things hurt, Jack. This was a pain that I chose.” Theo looked over Jack’s shoulder, a little lost. Not wanting to look at him right then.

“God.” Jack kissed his neck, eyes damp. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know.” But then Theo’s gaze sharpened, like he wasn’t sure if he could believe it yet, but wanted to try. “But you’d better prove that to me. Many, many times.”

Jack did his best.

They greeted the dawn together like it was the first time.

Like it was the first morning of the rest of their lives.

And it was.

When they got back from their vacation, their lives linked up, blended almost seamlessly, as if it had always been that way—them, their families, their whole world. Everyone just called them “Jack ’n’ Theo,” two individuals made into a single unit, never one without the other.

Theo did move into the apartment Genni had really picked for him, and yes, he did need all that room in the wardrobe, thank you very much, Gardner. He whispered sweet nothings to the espresso machine (and occasionally to Jack, though there was usually profanity involved. And nudity).