It was Saturday. For Kian, that usually meant at least fourteen hours of uninterrupted work, punctuated only by coffee breaks. But not today. Today, he was waiting for the arrival of the "random variable."
He stood in the middle of his aseptically clean living room, arms crossed over his chest. On the glass coffee table, two files lay in perfect alignment: Leo's copy of the marriage contract and Kian's. Beside them, a single black pen was placed at a perfect right angle to the edge of the table. Everything was under control. This was just one final procedure, a signature, and then this person could disappear into his designated room and become little more than a ghost in the house for a year.
When the doorbell rang, Kian felt a sharp tension in his shoulder muscles. He took a deep breath, preparing himself to face the quiet, responsible young man he had met at the café.
He opened the door, and froze.
The person standing before him was not the same person.
Yes, it was the same messy blond hair, the same wide, green eyes. But everything else was completely different. There was no formal white shirt. Instead, Leo was wearing an oversized pastel pink hoodie, which was slipping off one shoulder to reveal smooth, pale skin and a delicate collarbone. Below, he wasn't wearing jeans, but a pair of very short, baby-blue athletic shorts, revealing long, soft legs in their entirety, which ended in a pair of white, thigh-high socks with two pink stripes at the top.
A simple black choker was clasped around his neck, and the shiny star-shaped hair clip was still nested in his hair. Leo looked up at him and smiled, a bright, genuine smile this time, free of the tension from their first meeting. "Hi!"
Kian couldn't respond. His brain was trying to process the stark contradiction. This soft, colorful creature standing before him versus the serious image he had constructed in his mind. He found his eyes, completely against his will, drawn to the exposed patch of shoulder, then traveling down the length of the legs hugged by the socks. He felt a faint heat creep up his neck, which he immediately converted into cold anger.
"You're five minutes late," he said coolly, ignoring Leo's greeting.
Leo's smile faltered slightly, but he didn't seem fazed. "Oh, sorry. The bags were heavier than I thought." He gestured behind him to three large suitcases—one of which was a shocking shade of pink and covered in stickers—and two cardboard boxes.
Kian stepped back from the door slowly, as if allowing a virus into his sterile lab. He watched Leo drag his colorful luggage into the gray apartment. The sight was jarring. The pink suitcase seemed to scream as it sat on his polished concrete floor. From one of the open boxes, the head of a brown stuffed bear was peeking out.
"What is that?" Kian asked, pointing to the box.
Leo glanced over. "Oh, that's Barnaby. I can't sleep without him," he said simply, as if having a stuffed bear as an adult was the most normal thing in the world.
Kian decided to ignore it. The less he interacted with this person, the better. He pointed to the coffee table. "The contract. Read it and sign."
Leo dragged his bags against the wall, then approached the table. He bent over to read the contract, giving Kian an unobstructed view of his back and the curve of his hips beneath the short shorts. Kian's jaw tightened. Why would someone wear something like that? Was it hot outside? No, it was a damp, drizzly Seattle day. It made no logical sense.
Leo picked up the pen, seeming to hesitate for a moment. Then he looked up at Kian, his green eyes serious. "Are you sure about this?"
"Would I have gone through all this trouble if I wasn't?" Kian snapped back. "Sign, or get out."
Leo bit his bottom lip, then leaned down and signed his name in a neat, elegant script. He pushed the contract toward Kian. Kian picked up the pen and signed his own name quickly, his signature a sharp, illegible slash.
It was done. He had just sold a year of his life.
"Good," Kian said, standing up. "Now, I'll show you your room."
He led Leo through the living room and down a hallway. He opened a door at the end. "This is your room. Your private bathroom is inside. The rest of the apartment is my space. My office," he gestured to a closed door, "is completely off-limits. Is that clear?"
"Crystal, your majesty," Leo muttered under his breath, too quietly for Kian to hear.
Leo peered into the room. It was a smaller version of the rest of the apartment. White walls, a black metal-frame bed, a white closet, and a simple desk. It was empty and cold, like a hospital room. He sighed. At least it was a blank canvas.
"Alright," Leo said, turning back to Kian. "Thanks. I'll start moving my stuff in."
Kian nodded, ready to retreat to his cave. But Leo didn't move. He was just looking at him with a strange expression, head tilted slightly to the side.
"What?" Kian asked sharply.
"Nothing," Leo said, a small, mischievous smile playing on his lips. "It's just… your apartment is so sad. It needs some color."
And before Kian could retort, Leo turned and walked back to the living room to start bringing in his boxes. He left Kian standing in the hallway, feeling a strange sensation he'd never felt before. It was a mixture of panic at this invasion, annoyance at his own body's reaction, and something else… something dangerous that felt a lot like anticipation.
Chaos had entered his system. And he had no idea how to contain it.