He's taken a liking to Joshua. The man was strong, capable, and tender. He likes the way he looks across the room when he walks in, eyes wandering carefully before settling steadily on Alecto's wrists or throat or mouth. He likes the way Joshua always leans against the bar counter without ordering anything and smiles, saying some smooth non sequitur and making Alecto hide his gentle smile behind the curve of his martini glass. He likes the way Joshua touches him, how he likes to slide his palms all the way up and down the straight lines of Alecto's waist and hips and squeeze, the way he leans in and holds him in place while Alecto kisses him back, the way he curses under his breath when they fuck.

He likes that Josh doesn't scare easily. Maybe he'll survive this town after all.

It's balmy tonight, rain having drowned the streets earlier in the day, and Alecto doesn't mind the way their hands sweat together, linked and threaded, as they walk through the house and into the garden in the back. The vines shiver as they pass, and the flowers almost seem to tilt towards Alecto's feet, their petals heavy with cold dew.

Alecto throws a glance over his shoulder, tugs Josh close once they reach the middle of the grass, and allows them both to fall down into that green, green embrace. The earth seems to welcome them, gentling its touch. "You've come to see me twice this week already," he remarks, his voice light and breathy like a song carried on the wind from far away. He strokes a fine fingertip along the bridge of Josh's nose and then down along his upper lip. "Now what's that all about then?"