***

“You are going to burn a hole in that mirror,” Alexander warned him, hovering close by, much to Lyn’s annoyance.

“Hush,” he warned his roommate while examining himself in the mirror again. He unbuttoned the top button of his off-white silk shirt, wandering if that was enough to ruin his look. “You know, I’m surprised I can see your reflection in the mirror. Ah, wait, you’re a demon, not a vampire. Your kind is more difficult to spot in the real world.”

Alexander smirked, making Lyn only the more conscious of his proximity. He stared stubbornly at his own reflection, but it was difficult not to steal a glance or two at the other.

“Do you really have to put so many products on your head?” Alexander asked. He raised one hand as if he was about to ruffle Lyn’s hair.

He froze on the spot. “Touch my hair, and I will end you.”

“Uh, okay,” Alexander said and dropped his hand. He didn’t move away, still too close for Lyn’s comfort. “Are you okay with spending the rest of your life in prison for killing me, though?”

“I’m sure the fashion police will be quick to consider my actions a reasonable use of force. I’ll walk away scot-free.”

Alexander smiled. It was a slow, lazy smile that made Lyn frown only because he had to control his facial muscles to prevent them from breaking into a smile of his own.

Lyn decided that his looks were good enough to appear effortless, while letting anyone with a good eye know that it took time and precision to look this good and turned to stare at Alexander. His eyes went wide. Since he’d been so busy perfecting his hair and attire, he hadn’t even spared the demon a look, save for crossing eyes with him in the mirror.

“Are you going to go to dinner looking like that?”

Alexander shrugged. “We’re on vacation. And what’s wrong with the way I look?”

Lyn grabbed the ass by the front of his rumpled linen shirt. The loose pants could be given a pass, but there was no way he would allow Mr. I-have-a-five-hundred-dollar-shirt-but-I-can’t-be-bothered-to-iron-it to accompany him looking like he’d just got out of a bus from Bumfuck, Nowhere.

“Do you have something else? Tell me you do.”

Lyn checked his watch quickly. There was still time, but he didn’t want to risk burning a hole through one of Alexander’s staggeringly expensive shirts by being too damn pissed at the fucker. No, there was no risk; he used a portable steamer when traveling.

He began unbuttoning Alexander’s shirt quickly since there was still no reply from him.

“Oh, I like where this is going, but aren’t we supposed to go to dinner?”

“Shut up, tease,” Lyn warned him while taking the shirt away with him and searching his luggage for what he needed. “Be thankful I’m not using the steamer with you inside your wrinkled shirt.”

“That sounds like a medieval torture,” Alexander said, using his more serious tone.

“The only reason I’m not doing it is because I believe you’d enjoy it. Since it would remind you of home. You know, hell.”

He could be very efficient when he needed to be. Alexander watched him, crossing his arms and grinning as if there was some strange reason to experience delight while watching someone ironing wrinkles out of a shirt. Not matter how skillful he was, Lyn doubted that he was remotely more interesting than watching paint dry.

“Stop staring at me. Do something about your hair.”

“No.”

Lyn turned with the steamer in his hand. “Do you want me to force you? Brush it at least.”

“No, mom, the other kids will laugh at me and my cowlick style.”

Lyn had to purse his lips hard not to laugh. “That has never happened to anyone in the history of the universe. But okay, leave it as it is. At least save us some time and put your shoes on.”

Alexander stared at his toes. “I was thinking of not wearing any.”

Lyn thought he was going to choke. “I’m leaving you home if you intend to walk out of here barefooted. Aren’t you a doctor? Don’t you care that you might cut your feet and the wound might get infected or something?”

“Okay, okay,” Alexander said, raising his hands in surrender. “I’ll do it as a favor to you.”

A worn leather band around Alexander’s left wrist caught his eye. He stared, nonplussed, as he tried to figure out why it seemed so familiar. When he remembered, he felt a jolt of unfamiliar emotion, an unexplainable tenderness that had no reason to be in the same sentence with Alexander.

“I’m sure you have a Rolex. Wear it,” he said while returning to his task.

“I left it at home,” Alexander replied. “And wearing shoes is the only concession I’m making, even for you.”

“Fine, whatever. But please, nothing horrible like flip-flops.”

“Despite what you might think, I do employ common sense more often than not.”

“Okay, I’ll take your word for it. Just hurry.”

Was it the same leather band? Had Alexander held on to it for so many years? No, that couldn’t be. Because he tended to think of the past too much, Lyn was tempted to believe that others did the same. Alexander might just like wearing that sort of thing and, as usual, he was negligent about his clothes, accessories and whatnot, which had to be why the band looked so worn out.

He took the shirt off the hanger and waited for Alexander, who entered the room with a pair of luxury leather slides in one hand.

“Will these do?” he asked.

“Yes,” Lyn agreed. “Come here, let me help you into your shirt.”

Alexander obeyed without another word. Lyn could detect the smell of his cologne as he carefully slid the shirt over those broad shoulders. He shook his head. He wasn’t supposed to notice details about Alexander when he had Brad to obsess about until the wedding. After that, there would be no more thinking about the past. It was a personal vow. And Alexander was part of that past, too.

“Turn around.”

He quickly buttoned Alexander up. After evaluating his handiwork for a moment, he decided that the demon needed to have at least two buttons open at the top. Yeah, he had that rugged charm that women went for. Alexander would definitely be hot tonight, which meant that all that sexy teasing would stop.

Lyn wondered why he felt regret at the thought. Why did he care whether Alexander got laid or not? It wasn’t important, he decided, ignoring the bitter taste that suddenly bloomed on his tongue.

TBC