Chapter 43
Nolan
I swear, he does it on purpose.
The way he kissed Ciel in front of me.
Not subtle, not careful—just bold. Like I wasn't even there. Like my existence doesn't matter in this house anymore.
I can still see it when I close my eyes: Jack's hand gripping the back of Ciel's neck, the way he tilted his head, the way Ciel gasped and melted into it. That sound will haunt me.
Turned on by watching the man I love kiss someone else. It doesn't help that they're both so incredibly attractive.
Like, seriously.
My knuckles turn white from gripping the sink too hard.
Haa.
I look down at the hard-on straining my pants, and bile rises in my throat.
Disgust. That's what I should feel. That's what I want to feel.
But shame? Shame burns hotter.
Ciel with his sunshine eyes and that smile that could pull me out of the deepest pit. Jack with his stupid smirk and broad shoulders, the kind of presence that sucks all the air out of a room.
I hate this. I hate myself for it. But my body doesn't care.
With a low groan, I shove my hand down my pants. I can't exactly walk around with a hard-on while there's a baby in the house.
***
Jack
I don't think I've ever been this happy in my life. Like—ever.
Not when I made my first real haul. Not when I was promoted. Not when I got out.
None of it compares to this.
Ciel stands in front of the TV, hands clapping together like an excited teacher, the stroller parked right next to him. His cheeks are flushed, hair a mess, shirt smeared with a bit of baby drool, and I swear I've never seen anything more perfect.
"So now," he announces, voice bright, "since we've got two Nolans in the house, how are we going to be referring to them?"
He looks between me and actual-Nolan like it's some grand council meeting. The baby coos from the stroller like he's casting the deciding vote.
I lean back on the couch, grin tugging at my mouth. "Easy. Big Nolan and Little Nolan."
Ciel gasps. "No way. That's boring."
"You got a better idea, sunshine?" I ask, eyebrow arched.
His golden eyes narrow in mock offense. "Of course I do."
He points dramatically toward the stroller. "Big Nolan will be Nolan…" Then he jabs a thumb at his chest, eyes sparkling. "…and little Nolan will be Nollie."
"I object," Nolan says flatly from the armchair.
Ciel tilts his head, innocent. "On what grounds?"
"I won't give up Nollie." His tone is firm, but there's something raw under it—like he's not joking at all.
Ciel pauses, blinking at him, then claps his hands together. "Okay, fine. Let's brainstorm."
He tilts his head, golden eyes flicking between us like he's running through a catalog of nicknames. "Nols? …NoNo?"
"No." Nolan and I both say at the same time.
Ciel grins. "Wow. That was synchronized. Should I be worried you two are secretly bonding behind my back?"
"Absolutely not," Nolan says, deadpan.
"God forbid," I add, smirking.
"Alright, fine, haters," Ciel huffs, tapping his chin dramatically. "What about… Nunu?"
"No." Nolan doesn't even look up this time.
"Ola?" Ciel tries again, bright with hope.
Nolan just stares at him like he's lost his mind. "That's not even close to my name."
Ciel shrugs. "Okay, critics, you come up with something better."
Ciel straightens suddenly, snapping his fingers. "Wait. I've got it. Lanny."
"Lanny?" I echo, raising a brow.
"Yes!" Ciel beams, proud of himself. "It's short, it's easy, and it sounds distinct enough from Nollie."
"Nolan Jr. becomes Lanny. It's short, cute, and it still ties back to his name. Problem solved."
The baby, like he's in on the conversation, lets out a tiny coo.
"See? He likes it." Ciel grins, proud of himself. "Nollie for my knight in shining armor, and Lanny for the newest addition."
I laugh under my breath.
"You're really putting a lot of thought into this."
"I'm a dad now. Naming things is, like, part of my job description," he says with mock solemnity, before leaning down to tickle the baby's chin. "See? Lanny approves."
The baby coos, like he's in on the joke.
I smirk. "Guess that settles it."
Nolan doesn't say anything at first. He just sits there, arms crossed, jaw clenched. But his blue eyes flick down to the baby and soften in spite of himself.
Ciel notices. Of course he notices. He beams like he's just won some silent battle. "See? Even Big Nolan doesn't hate it."
"I didn't say that," Nolan mutters.
"You didn't not say it either," Ciel chirps back, smug as ever.
I chuckle under my breath, enjoying the way Nolan's ears flush. He hates when Ciel corners him like this—because no matter how much he protests, he always caves.
"Lanny," Ciel repeats, testing the sound on his tongue. "My sweet little Lanny."
The baby kicks his feet, as if answering.
Nolan exhales heavily, like the weight of the whole damn house just landed on his shoulders. "Fine," he says finally, voice low, resigned. "Lanny it is."
Ciel claps his hands again, triumphant, before scooping the baby carefully from the stroller. He rocks him against his chest, humming under his breath. The sight hits me harder than I expect. It's too easy to imagine this as ours—the three of us here, warm light spilling in from the windows, the faint salt scent of the sea drifting through the open glass.
Too perfect.