Vincent smiled at Ian, pleased that he had decided to make dinner. He inhaled deeply, allowing the heat from their joined hands to wash over him.

Ian shifted his gaze from the table to Vincent. He had hoped for many things, but coming home to cooked food prepared by his husband was not one of them. 

"Did you really do this for me?"

“Yes,” Vincent said, meeting Ian’s gaze.

“I’m starving,” Ian said with a grin. He waved over the servants, telling them to reheat the food. He sat across the table from Vincent, looking happier than he had been in a while. “What brought this on?”

Vincent shrugged in a shy manner as the servants brought their food back out.

“I just felt like it,” he said. He didn’t want to say anything about leaning into the feelings. He just wanted things to happen naturally.

Ian swirled the noodles around his fork and took a bite, nodding at Vincent.

“Wow. That’s delicious,” he said.

“Really?” Vincent asked, feeling his face warm up. He hoped that it was actually good. He hadn’t cooked anything in a while.

“I promise,” Ian said, holding his hand up.

Vincent smiled a little and started to eat, listening to Ian talk about his day. His eyes ventured over Ian’s strong hands, his sharp jaw, his deep eyes. Everything about him drew Vincent in. Ian seemed forbidden but also so alluring.

“Let’s sit by the fireplace,” Ian suggested once they finished up dinner. He stood from the table after finishing off his glass of wine.

Vincent nodded, taking another sip of his wine. He had a little too much, but it took the edge off his anxiety. That was just what he needed. He followed Ian over to the fireplace, sitting down on the thick rug in front of it.

“Dinner meant a lot to me,” Ian told Vincent as they sat next to each other, the flames crackling in front of them. “I know things have been crazy. I feel like I know you, but I also feel like I don’t.”

“You’ve gotten to know some things about me,” Vincent pointed out. Ian had been trying, and Vincent appreciated that. It made him want to open up more.

“I want to know more. What was your life like back in 1935? What was the last thing that you remembered?” Ian asked, seeming genuinely curious.

Vincent lowered his eyes, not expecting to be asked such questions. Ian was so hyper-focused on reminding Vincent of Eton’s story rather than learning his own.

“Oh, well, things were much different back then. I was a priest in a monastery, so my lifestyle was far less extravagant. I was surrounded by people of faith. We had strict boundaries to abide by,” Vincent replied. Honestly, he couldn’t imagine going back. He had learned so much and experienced so many new things in this time. He didn’t want to go backward.

Ian nodded as he listened.

“The last thing that I remember is being sick in my bed,” Vincent said quietly, feeling an ache grow in his chest. “I remember not feeling well one day. Then, things kept getting worse until I couldn’t hold food down. I was feverish. Exhausted. The other priests knew that I was going to die.”

Ian frowned and reached out to place a hand on Vincent’s back, rubbing gently.

“I can’t imagine how awful that must’ve been,” he said.

Vincent shut his eyes tightly, waves of emotion crashing down on him as he remembered how terrible and weak he felt in those final moments. But were they final moments?

“I don’t know what happened. I don’t know if I actually died. If I’m alive now, maybe I’m still alive then. But what about Eton? Is he in my body since I’m in his?” Vincent started to ramble, panic and confusion thundering through him. All of his thoughts poured out, unable to be contained.

“Hey, It’s okay,” Ian said, wrapping his arms around Vincent and pulling him closer. “I’ve got you. Breathe.”

Vincent drew in a shaky breath, trying to calm himself down. He focused on the feeling of Ian’s arms around him, sinking into the feeling. Heat started to flow through his body as they huddled close together. He didn’t think that the heat was just from the fire, though.

“I’m sorry… I’m just… confused,” Vincent murmured, tilting his head up to meet Ian’s gaze. He was confused about the switch, about his feelings, about the future. He only knew one thing right now, and that was that he wanted to kiss Ian. Breaking away from his fear, he leaned up, crushing his lips against Ian’s.

Ian looked surprised at first, but he returned the touch, cupping the back of Vincent’s neck. He tried to move slowly, lightly brushing his lips against Vincent’s. That slow pace didn’t work for either of them. There was no way to ignore the hunger and desire.

Vincent ran his hands up Ian’s chest. His hands shook slightly, but he was more excited than anything. The kiss felt so good, flooding him with warmth and adrenaline. He enjoyed Ian’s hands on him and how he tasted. He couldn’t believe that he was actually enjoying this, but Father Leery said to explore his desires. He was doing exactly that.

“What are you doing?” Ian asked as he cupped Vincent’s face, breaking the kiss. He met Vincent’s eyes. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“I want to. I need to,” Vincent murmured, hearing his heartbeat in his head. His lips tingled from the kiss, and he knew that he wanted more. “But I need you to show me.”

Ian searched Vincent’s eyes, making sure that he was being serious.

“I’ll show you everything,” he said, a grin crossing his lips. He kissed Vincent hard, steadily lowering him down onto his back. His hands yanked open the buttons on Vincent’s shirt, exposing his smooth chest.

*** Read the extended NSFW scene on Patreon.  See links below.