Park’s eyes crinkled as he smiled softly. He put his hand on top of Cooper’s and entwined their fingers. “Have I told you I love you recently?”

“No, you’ve been cruelly reticent and I’ve had no choice but to be sentimental enough for the two of us.” Cooper shook his fist at the ceiling. “Curse this new burden of being the most emotionally healthy person in the house. I hate it!”

Park laughed. “How could I ever not be happy when I have this?”

“And everything else?” Cooper asked.

Park tilted his head. “Truly? Some things, yes. Others, I’m not sure. Can I think about it and let you know?”

“Whenever you’re ready. As often as you like,” Cooper vowed. “You can always tell me what you want out of life and I’ll always be first pick on your heist team ready to help you get it.”

“As often as I like?”

“Dreams change. People change. Please just don’t stop giving me the chance to change with you.”

As if he could not resist, Park pulled Cooper close for a light kiss to the mouth, the cheekbone, the temple. His lips felt wonderfully cool to Cooper’s skin.

“Happy chance,” Park sighed into Cooper’s hair.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Park said. “An old line I’ve developed new appreciation for. Perhaps I’ll pull it up and read it to you sometime during one of our daily power couple check-ins on hopes, dreams and aspirations.”

“Daily?” Cooper muttered. “I said best friend, not your fucking fairy godmother. Weekly, maybe.” He rested his head on Park’s chest, listening to his heartbeat, and sighed. “Every other day, at most.”

Later that evening, Cooper was freshly showered, dressed and clearheaded enough to feel self-conscious as he examined himself in Park’s haunted mirror. He tugged at the tux. It was a bit loose in some places, tight in others, but the general concept still worked. And it wasn’t like he had options. The real betrayal came from the parts that he hadn’t dug out of a garment bag at the back of his closet. His hair, for example, that he’d tried to do something new with and instead taken from blandly uninspired to slightly deranged-looking. Really, what was its excuse? He didn’t even dare look at the back where the stiches were.

From the bathroom, he could hear Park showering. They’d talked a bit more about Arthur Crane after that...detour, but really, what else was there to say? It was only speculation until they could speak to the man himself tonight.

Cooper futzed hopelessly with the bowtie and his wrist twinged a bit, feeling sore and fragile. He’d taken off the hand brace to shower and dress but was considering putting it back on again before the gala when a dark shadow moved in his lower peripheral.