Til Death

16. Blake/Daniel/Blake

BLAKE

Blake ran his hands up and down his thighs, probably staining his brand new black sacks with his sweat. Slacks. He owned slacks on purpose. Outside of a retail setting. Before they left the shop, Mr. Crawley and Michael dressed Blake like a doll in a tan wool coat on top of a black turtleneck, black pants, a belt (which he had never owned) and the shiniest pair of shoes Blake had ever seen. He could look down at his feet and his horrified look was reflected back at him.

Daniel's dark hand laid across Blake's as if grabbing his hand in time before he floated off into the dark recesses of space. He squeezed a little, his touch cool, but welcoming. Like the forgiving breeze during an unforgiving summer.

"This will be easy," Daniel said it like he meant it.

Blake scrunched his nose and looked back outside, at the reporters and the photographers fixing their cameras. "No offense, but I don't believe you."

"Stop worrying about them."

"That's actually not possible."

"Okay," he nodded. "Then, when you start to get nervous, all you have to do is look at me. If I'm not worried, then you don't have to be worried." Looking down, Blake sat his free hand on top, rubbing his thumb across Daniel's skin. Daniel leaned closer, ever-so-slightly and whispered, "Deep breath."

Blake met his eyes and made a big show of filling his chest and raising his shoulders, before letting it all out. Daniel seemed satisfied by it. Maybe even more than just satisfied. Delighted maybe.

"Are you two ready?" Michael asked from the driver's seat, still on the phone with security, who were getting into position all around the holiday store: Holly Jolly Wonderland. They'd been parked for a while, so a crowd of people had begun to form too. People eager to see the prince. Ignacio sat in the front, resting against the headrest, lovingly sighing at Blake and Daniel like they were cuddling puppies.

Flushing, Blake took his hand away first and Daniel fell back against his seat. Quickly, Blake was ushered out of the car first with Adrian holding the door open. Adrian gave him an encouraging smile, but before they could speak, Daniel took his hand. A surprised jolt went up Blake's spine as the entirety of his focus landed on Daniel. Daniel and his wide back. Daniel with his head held high as he waved to the photographers and to his people.

Blake decided to categorize that smile as Daniel's diplomatic smile. Nicer than his pompous-I-know-better-than-everyone-smile, but not as good as his true smile. That honest smile was up against his drunken smile, the one he wore when his eyes were all gooey and looked at Blake like he wasn't that gangly fifteen year old anymore. Blake wondered if he'd ever get that look from a sober Daniel.

If he did, Blake might burst into flames.

Entering the shop, Blake was struck with the smell of balsam fir and cinnamon. He nearly sneezed his brains out on impact. The entire store was riddled with Christmas trees, wrapped up and decorated in all kind of ways from all white trees with golden ornaments to trees covered in paper snowflakes and trees every color of the rainbow. The walls were covered in ornaments, more ornaments than Blake thought possible. He was a long way away from the handmade popsicle stick ornaments back home.

And it was all theirs to explore.

As Daniel let his hand drop, Blake stayed glue to the front door overwhelmed by the options. He looked up at Daniel, feeling equal parts eager and nervous. "So, um you lead the way. It's your mother."

"And your future mother-in-law," Ignacio piped up.

Grimacing, Daniel warned the demon, "Don't start. We'll have none of that. You're an assistant. Go assist Frances with making dinner reservations."