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He’s going to get in the pool. Soon. Imminently. Any minute now actually.
“Come on Ken! Hop in,” the instructor calls. “Embrace the now !”
“It’s Kino,” Kino grumbles.
“Right! ‘Course it is — come on Penny, want to give your dad a hand?”
It’s exceptionally tempting to tell the beaming, tan prick that if they patronize him one more time he’s actually going to take a crack at this just to make it close enough to drown them. But Penny’s laughing as she paddles over and reaches up, little fingers closing around the broad side of Kino’s hand, so murder at the local rec center might have to wait.
“Come on Daddy,” she grins, “it’s fun!”
Two of her front teeth are still missing from last month, dark blonde mop of curly hair plopped over her face like a soggy stuffed animal. She’s wearing floaties on her arms. There’s cartoon sharks on them. Kino’s concerningly jealous.
Kino forces a smile back, squeezing her hand. He steps the rest of the way into the pool.
“There we go!” the instructor starts again. “See! Not so bad once you—”
Kino’s glare finally lands and for a split second the instructor looks as though their tongue has gained consciousness and tried to bury itself down the back of their throat.
They look away, pivoting with admirable self-preservation and a brittle grin to another student. “Alright there Joan? Let’s try that dunk again, huh?”
Kino clears his throat, trying to not dwell too deeply on what a massive mistake this is proving to have been. “ Joan” isn’t helping at all, swimming as if she’s been doing it for years, laughing and joking with the swim instructor and her son, while the other dad — Declan or something if Kino remembers right — has the merciful distraction of trying to convince his sobbing child that there’s no feasible way fish can get into the pool.
Kino’d reviewed every class time for the Parent Child Lessons and the latest possible session available on a random Tuesday really seemed the best choice, but there’s still enough people milling about that he’s left feeling exposed and foolish and utterly useless. He looks up just as yet another late hours swimmer pushes through the door, and ah— perfect, as if this couldn’t get worse: they’re annoyingly attractive.
Dark medium length hair, simple beard, swim trunks and a hoodie that’s only half zipped up their chest with nothing underneath. Kino can see the glint of a gold chain or two against a collarbone and a sheen of sweat there, as if he’s just been working out upstairs, an assumption helped by the sort of breathless tossed about look he’s got going on.
The man stops near the deeper end of the pool not too far away, tugging the hoodie over his head without unzipping it. He straightens again, hair out of place from the action — straightens, and looks right back at Kino.
“Look!” Penny calls. “I’m a DOLPHIN.”
Kino turns. A stream of water hits him directly in the face.
There’s a snort of laughter towards the deeper end of the pool not too far away.
Kino works his jaw, slowly reopening his eyes. “Uncanny.”
“Are you going to swim, Daddy?” she asks, beaming up at him like she’s asking something completely reasonable.
“Why don’t you show me again,” he manages to smile. “You’re the dolphin, yeah?”
There’s a blur movement in the corner of his eye. Kino turns just in time to see gold-chains-casual-sweat-good-hair dive into the pool with disgusting ease. He’s gone for a solid handful of seconds before popping back up, kicking his hair back from his face with a flick of his head.
“See!” Penny calls. Kino turns to her paddling back towards him. “Like this!”
“Pretty good,” he grins. “Almost looks like you could try it without those floaties, yeah?”
“Maybe. If you dunk under again,” she says with a concerning level of smugness for someone who can’t pronounce “yellow” exactly right yet.
There’s a soft sound in the water towards the other end of the pool. The other man’s flipped over, floating back and forth with a few lazy strokes.
Kino turns back, taking a deep breath. “Alright. You’ll just start screaming bloody murder if I don’t come back up, yeah?”
“Yes!”
Kino gives her one tired smile, holds his nose, and drops under the water.
The thing is, it’s not actually as panic-inducing as it used to be. Which is to say it’s only terrible and terrifying and the smothering silence has swallowed him up for about five seconds before he’s propelling back to the surface.
He gasps in a breath, kicking his hair back as he stands up properly again, pushing a hand down his face to clear away the taste of the pool and catch his breath.
“Hooray!” Penny cheers. “You did it! That was much longer than last time!”
Kino feels an utterly unreasonable surge of pride. It swells behind his chest for exactly half a moment before he notices gold-chains leaned back against the side of the pool a few meters away. Elbows propping him up out of the water, hair pushed back, watching — watching him.
“Sure,” Kino smiles tightly back at Penny, “now show me that paddle again.”
“Here we go!” she sings, heading off, kicking water absolutely everywhere.
Kino can feel the man’s attention hanging at his edges, and he’s already feeling like enough of an idiot, he doesn’t need any added judgement here thanks very fucking much, so he hardens his gaze, and looks right back.
The man’s stare catches his instantly: brown eyes — clever and quick and unfairly interesting. He holds Kino’s look for a moment, then he smiles. It’s a smile that sinks into a warm, hungry space behind Kino’s stomach so much deeper and faster than it has any right to.
Kino looks away. Just in time for Declan’s kid to smack him squarely in the head as she finally leaps into the pool.
“Mum said she’d be here to pick you up, yeah?” Kino asks.
He’s crouched in front of Penny, adjusting the massive bear-shaped buttons on her overcoat, doing them up properly. It’s a bright lobby, an antechamber sort of space that leads to the lockers and the parking lot and the rest of the recc center: all squeaky tiles, cheerful paint, high ceilings, and brightly lit staircases.
Joan and her kid are heading for the door, hand in hand. There’s a soft “I’ve got it” and Kino looks up to see the gold-chains open it for the two of them. His hair’s still wet, voice deeper and softer than Kino would have guessed based on his build.
“Not mummy,” Penny says. “Greg.”
Kino looks up at her. “What?”
“Greg!” Penny repeats.
“Greg?” Kino frowns.
“Mummy’s friend, with the fast car! He's coming to get me.”
Kino feels his jaw tighten all on its own. He tugs out his phone as he stands up, thumbing open his texts.
The “read” notification appears under the message.
The typing symbol pops to life on the screen.
Disappears. Reappears.
“Daddy help me balance,” Penny directs sternly, clambering up onto the short wall running through the lobby. Kino gives her a hand without looking up from his phone, her little fingers wrapping around his as she stands up properly. She slips a bit with a short shout of delight. Kino catches her easily, pushing her back up onto her feet. “Careful, yeah?”
“Yes.” She says it with intense focus, stepping one foot in front of the other as he follows her lead.
The phone makes a soft sound.
Kino scoops Penny up around the waist, spinning her back down to the floor with one arm as she squeals and laughs. He plops her down, texting back.
“There, there!” Penny exclaims, pointing out the glass front of the building. “That’s him!”
Kino looks. A very expensive car's parked out front, the mostly obscured figure inside waving pleasantly.
His phone makes a sound again.
Kino frowns at the phone. He swipes over the screen quickly.
Kino clears his throat, nudging at Penny’s shoulder as he pockets his phone. “Come on. Get your hat on. It’s cold.”
Kino fumbles in his jacket pocket against the back wall of the rec center.
It’s started to rain again - no, not rain: the terrible half-ice-not-quite-snow shit it’s been doing on and off since yesterday. And it’s colder now. The drive home will be a treat. Christ.
His hair’s still wet and everything about him smells like chlorine soaked regret. He gets his pack of smokes into his hand, tugging one out. It makes him feel like even more of a criminal then usual to light up behind the fucking health center, but it’s late and most everyone’s left by now and he deeply wants a smoke without risking the minivan smelling of cigarettes so fuck it.
It takes four flicks of his lighter before it catches. Kino sucks in a deep breath, letting his head fall back against the concrete wall as he closes his eyes, exhaling from his nose and watching the smoke drift out into the drizzling rain.
Just to his left, there’s the sound of the back door opening. Perfect. Just fucking perfect.
Kino keeps his eyes closed, waiting for the inevitable lambasting to start. Maybe if he’s lucky they’ll just fuck off. Maybe if he’s lucky he can finish his smoke in peace before his ears freeze off, then he’ll get in the van, pick up a curry, go home, and—
“Got a light?”
Kino opens his eyes.
Gold chains wink back at him under the street lamps. He’s got the hoodie back on. It’s pulled up against the cold and he seems to have found a t-shirt to put on under it. His hair’s still wet, fallen into his face in a way that looks obnoxiously, effortlessly perfect.
He’s got a cigarette in his bare hands, and he’s smiling. Smiling at Kino. Again.
He nudges the cigarette up as a reminder, and Kino realizes he’s been staring. Staring at him. Again.
Kino clears his throat. “Yeah,” he reaches back into his pocket for his lighter. “Sure.”
He holds the lighter out to let the man take it himself but he just keeps smiling, looking back at Kino, not reaching for it at all. Kino’s neck prickles with warmth as he flicks the lighter to life for him, cueing the man to lean in, cigarette hung between his lips.
Kino cups his hand around the flame so it doesn’t go out. The man glances up at Kino for just a moment before cupping his hand around the back of his to tilt the lighter where he wants it.
He takes a few puffs then falls back, letting him go, exhaling smoke out into the cold.
“Thanks,” the man says, deep voice soft between them.
Kino suddenly feels exceptionally aware of every corner of his own body for no good reason at all. He makes himself lean back against the wall, taking another drag.
“Haven’t seen you here before,” the man notes.
“Yeah, well, I don’t come here, so,” Kino shrugs, exhaling sharply.
“Oh, that’s why?” The man’s grinning at him again. It’s a sharp smile: half sarcasm, half something else, and Kino’s entirely sure he’s not equipped to know what that something else is.
“Your kid?” the man asks. His voice has a bit of an underlying melody to it. “She’s learning to swim? Seems like she’s getting the hang of it.”
“Yeah. One of us at least,” Kino grumbles, feeling somehow stupider than he has all night.
“You didn’t do that bad,” the man says.
Kino snorts.
“Seriously.” He’s leaning against the wall in a way that cheats him towards Kino. “There’s a lot of courage in just taking a leap.”
“Courage. Sure,” Kino manages, holding onto self-deprecation with a bleeding ferocity because if he lets go now he’s not sure what he’ll grab hold of instead.
“Admirable to make it more than ten minutes with Instructor Sunshine, honestly,” the man notes with a new drag. “I think I might actually try to drown.”
“Mm,” Kino hums, “was tempting.”
“You made it through,” the man says, rolling his head against the wall to look at him.
Kino lets out a breath of smoke down towards his feet. “Barely.”
“Barely's alright. Better than never trying at all.”
Kino looks at him. Part of him immediately thinks he shouldn’t have. But it’s a small part and growing smaller because the man’s looking back at him with that little knowing smile and there really is something about those eyes that make every better instinct Kino has vanish like smoke in the breeze.
“Kino,” Kino says, and he’s holding out his free hand because he really has no idea what the hell else he’s supposed to do here.
The man looks at his hand for half a moment before taking it and—
“Cassian,” he says.
His hand is warm and his fingers are long and he doesn't let go of Kino’s hand, but that’s alright, because Kino hasn’t exactly let go of his either.
This is when it would be a very good idea to say something normal. Something like “good to meet you” or even better “have a good night”. He could turn up his collar, head back to the car, drive home, and wank off in the shower like a balanced, responsible person.
But Kino’s really starting to wonder, if bad ideas have gotten him this far tonight, is now really the time to start with the good ones?
“Alright,” Kino hears himself say, “what’re you doing tonight then, Cassian?”
The man’s smile widens.
Kino slams into the side of his minivan. He doesn’t even get a chance to catch his breath before Cassian’s lithe body is shoving back into his space: mouth opening hot on his, hands going up his sides, tongue easing right back into Kino’s mouth, and the breathless feeling slips into just this side of dizzy.
The man kissing him smells like cold and chlorine and Kino can taste his smile at his edges and this all still feels quite a bit like it can’t really be happening. Ten minutes ago he thought he would be uncommonly lucky if the man leaning against the wall grinning back at him agreed to go out for a drink. Getting snogged against that same wall then dragged across an empty parking lot over to his minivan with a wild, giddy sort of determination wasn’t even within the same universe of possibilities.
But he’s here now: jammed against the side of the van that faces the wall, caught under the orange glow of suburban street lights, and quickly forgetting any expectations he had at all because Cassian is grabbing his hands and pulling them under his hoodie to the line of his waist, and Christ alive his waist—
Cassian slots himself neatly between Kino’s legs as Kino’s hands spread around him. He bites quickly at Kino’s neck and kicks his hips up, smart and indulgent.
“Fuck,” Kino half swears half growls, hands slipping down from Cassian’s waist to the top of his ass, pulling him in again, “Christ, yeah— yes.”
Cassian lets out a breathless laugh into the curve of his neck, hands tracing greedily up Kino’s sides to the muscles that line his ribs. His fingers drag over the spread of his chest around to the strength of his back and a low, hungry noise builds in the back of Cassian’s throat. He urges the line of his erection impossibly closer between Kino’s legs, like he’s trying to actually melt into him.
“Get the door open,” Cassian breathes.
And Kino wants to tell him his place isn’t far, he wants to ask him if he’d rather go back to his, or literally anywhere, because this man's the kind of hot that makes a deep, shivering part of Kino that feels a million years old want to drag him home with his throat between its teeth, but it’s becoming quite clear quite quickly that neither of them are going to be able to stop long enough to get out of this carpark.
Kino pulls back, shoving his hand in his jeans for his keys. Or rather tries to. It’s a bit tricky to manage when Cassian won’t stop grinding into him like if he does he’ll stop breathing.
“Hold up,” Kino manages — soft, close — catching Cass’ hips in a strong grip and Cassian actually rolls his eyes. He darts forward, hands popping Kino’s belt open and pulling the keys out of his pocket himself. It all happens so fast that Kino can’t help barking out a laugh, one that falls apart into a low groan as Cass gets Kino’s dick into one hand and clicks the keys in the other.
The car gives a pleasant little chirrup, echoing through the empty parking lot.
Cassian tugs at the door to open it. The sliding door. The sliding door that with the weight of two full-grown men against it is suddenly going through an existential crisis trying to open and shut at the same time.
“Christ,” Kino half-scolds, half-chuckles. He gets a solid hand around the back of Cassian’s neck, walking them both back a step so the door can actually slide itself open. Cassian’s darting forward again instantly, pressing into his space, backing him up, hands on his hips and—
Kino feels himself stop. He catches Cassian’s hips and looks up at him — really looks at him, because he feels a bit like he’s tripped and wound up trapped in some absurdly erotic blender and he wants — no, he has — to make sure this goes at least moderately well or he’s going to hate himself for a minimum of four months.
“What’d you want?” Kino asks, voice low between them.
Cassian looks down at him from the couple of inches he’s got as an advantage, that cheeky little smile still bright. “I want you to get in the car.”
“Minivan,” Kino corrects without thinking.
The smile gets a bit wider. “I want you to get in the minivan.”
Kino lets his thumbs trace up under the edge of Cassian’s shirt. “And then what?”
Cassian looks at him without flinching. “I’m going to fuck you.”
Kino stares.
Cassin shrugs, eyes glittering. “If you want.”
Kino makes it half a second before he’s kissing him again. It’s harder and it’s messier and Cassian meets it: all heat and an edge of teeth as he backs him up and Kino just manages not to brain himself on the door as he stumbles into the van.
Cassian pulls away for a moment to slap at the door and start it closing as Kino catches his breath, shrugging off his jacket, letting it fall to join the goldfish crackers scattered on the floor. Cassian turns back, takes one look, and his hands instantly go to Kino’s bared arms. He makes a deep, needy sound, clambering over the middle seats like he’s got extra limbs, urging Kino backward and it’s so much closer, so much warmer, sealed away from the world like this, even if only behind a layer of steadily fogging glass.
Kino hits the bench seat at the very back with a huff. Cassian’s already tugging his boots off his feet, pulling at his opened jeans to get them down his legs, leaving Kino feeling mildly like he’s being mauled by a five-foot-ten cat.
A distant part of his brain is insisting very firmly he should be worried about this. He should be worried about fucking a stranger in the back of his minivan while he can feel stray cheerios between the seat cushions under his fingers. He should be worried about Mister Binkles, the stuffed pink giraffe, who’s currently watching him from a cup holder with large, gleaming eyes. But Cassian’s tugging his sweatshirt off over his head, sending his t-shirt riding up the smooth plane of his back, and he’s looking at Kino, looking at Kino with this lopsided breathless grins, looking at Kino like this might just be the best thing that’s happened to him in months, and yeah, alright, fuck Mister Binkles actually.
Kino grabs Cassian by the front of his shirt, pulling him in, opening his mouth on his all over again. He runs a hand up his side, under the loose shirt, thumb tracking wide and firm over his ribs to a nipple and Cassian gasps into his mouth. His beard’s soft where it catches against Kino’s stubble. He still tastes like smoke.
Cassian gets a knee up on the seat between Kino’s legs, pressing to the line of Kino’s erection already straining through his briefs and Kino groans openly, neck and shoulders going heavy on the seat behind him.
He catches the side of Cass’ head, fingers knitting into his hair as Cassian sets a pace with his knee, working his own belt open. Cassian pulls down his fly, shoving down his boxers, getting himself into his hand almost lazily. He matches the easy rhythm he’s setting in Kino’s lap, nudging his face into the weight of Kino’s hand, turning his breath into a hot, damp secret caught in the curl of his palm. Then, slowly, he moves his mouth to Kino’s wrist. He looks at Kino, those eyes glittering bright as a flick of light on a knife’s edge and Cassian lets his teeth catch on the bones there.
White teeth dig into his skin for a moment, just a moment, and then he’s licking, quick and dirty, up the inside of his wrist with a half-open smile.
Kino’s dick jumps hard against Cassian’s knee as he swears.
Cassian laughs — rough and close — then pulls Kino in to kiss him: once, twice, before pulling back entirely.
He sits back on his heels between Kino’s legs, flicking his hair back from his face, digging into the pocket of his jeans. He tugs out his wallet, dropping it to the ground almost as fast as he pulls out a condom and lube, and somehow, as Kino watches the sheer mundanity of this man in front of him trying to work an absurdly tiny cap off a hilariously tiny bottle, it hits Kino all over again that this really is happening. Part of him wonders what he did to deserve it. Most of him couldn’t give a shit.
“Get those off,” Cassian says, slapping at Kino’s hip. “Does this thing go further back?” he nods at the seat.
“Uhrm—” Kino manages as Cassian tears open the condom pack with the edge of his teeth. “I’m— yeah, yes?” He reaches for the lever, which is a bit hard when he’s in the middle of pulling off his own briefs.
Cassian’s hand lands on his chest, pushing him back, grabbing at the lever himself. Kino kicks his briefs the rest of the way off his legs and Cassian shoves him backwards, clicking the seat into a recline and wrapping a hand around Kino’s bared cock instantly.
Kino gasps, reaching out, trying to get a grip on Cassian too but Cassian simply bats his hand away, picking up his pace just enough and Kino falls back with another low groan as he melts into the feeling. The sound of their breath is close and bright and it’s so much warmer in here now than out in the cold drizzle beyond. Kino’s hips cant up, nudging steadily into the hazy rhythm Cassian’s setting and Cassian can’t seem to get his eyes off him. The orange light of the car park bleeds in all around them like filamented honey: catching along the back of Cassian’s hair, slipping down his arm as he works him, glinting off that chain around his neck, and Kino isn’t sure when Cassian started muttering things but he certainly is now. Low, rough murmurs: praise and encouragement and some things in a language Kino can’t quite catch and Kino’s lost in it. He’s sinking, drifting, losing hold of his thoughts in the most delicious way. It’s too much and not enough and Cassian suddenly slips his hand off of his dick and eases a finger into him instead.
Kino’s head falls back with a swear.
“Alright?” Cassian asks, working him slow and steady, and christ, that fucking voice —
“Yeah—” Kino manages. “Yes. Fuck — you can—”
Cassian adds a second finger — adds it, and twists up as he presses in to hit exactly fucking right and Kino actually shouts. His hips shove back down into Cassian’s hand, jaw loose, sweat prickling to life on his collarbone. He lets him do it again, and again, and then he’s grabbing Cassian’s hips, hauling him up with all the strength he has.
Cassian winds up straddling Kino’s hips, knees falling to either side of his thighs, and he just has time for a confused sound before Kino grabs his hips, pulls him in, and wraps his mouth around his dick.
Cassian groans openly as Kino presses down his length as far as he can. Cassian’s managed to get the condom on already. It makes him taste of heat and plastic and something sharper, something more honest, and Kino feels a rumbling, eager sound swell in his chest as he swallows Cassian even more.
Cassian swears. It’s sudden and sharp and his hand comes down to grip at the back of the seat, arm locking, holding himself back from giving in and kicking his hips forward.
Kino drags up him then presses right back down again, winning another curse. He takes him as deep as he can, slow and indulgent: once, twice —
Cassian’s hand locks in his hair, pulling him off with a wet sound and a rough voice: “Alright, okay—” It almost sounds as though he’s talking to himself: words trapped between a stern instruction and a rushed prayer and then he’s dropping back to his knees and pressing three fingers into Kino.
It’s rougher than before — better than before. Kino’s cut adrift. He’s floating and tethered at once, swallowed up by that hazy delicious feeling, that feeling of being exactly what someone else needs, of becoming a vibrant, shivering shape made up of nothing but that pliant simplicity of wanting and having and he feels himself grin. It feels sharp and open. It feels like a smile that’s a million years old with a throat between its teeth.
Kino thinks he hears himself saying something. He thinks it might be “more” or “come on” or even — horrifically — “that all you’ve got?” Whatever it is, he gets about half a second before something in Cassian’s eyes locks into place like sliding metal and then he’s practically bending Kino in half as he pushes into him.
Kino’s not sure whose groan he hears first. It’s loud whoever it is — loud enough that he’s positive if anyone’s were left in this fucking parking lot they’d have an exceptionally clear picture of exactly what’s happening in this back seat. He’s also quite positive he couldn’t care less.
Kino grits his teeth, shoving his hips down, urging them further, fuller and Cassian swears, slamming a hand to the window with glitter stickers stuck on the corners. Kino’s still saying things. At least he’s pretty sure he’s still saying things — bitten off challenges, encouragements, lost little laughs, and Cassian snaps into him: faster, hotter, eyes wide and dark and just this side of stunned as he stares down at him as though he’s fully intent on not missing even a second of this, and that’s absolutely fine because there’s no way this is going to last long — a fact that should not make Kino feel as breathless with pride as it absolutely does.
Cassian’s eyes flutter shut suddenly, brow furrowing with determination as his forehead lands against Kino’s. He’s muttering, asking Kino to touch himself, kissing at the edges of his mouth as he does, open and grazing and Kino doesn’t need to be told twice. He wraps a hand around his cock, swearing as Cassian — impossibly, remarkably — thrusts into him even faster, even deeper and Kino’s lost on it, taken apart by it and time slips away from him like it belongs to another reality entirely as he comes into his hand.
He works himself through it, spilling across his stomach, over his t-shirt where it’s pushed up along the muscles over his ribs, and Cassian swears openly, dropping his head to Kino’s shoulder, gasping into his collarbone as he follows him crashing over the edge.
His weight collapses into Kino with a heavy exhale. He shudders a few times as he eases down. Or maybe that’s Kino. Hard to be sure. Really.
Kino realizes, belatedly, he’s got his hand in Cassian’s hair.
He pats the back of his head twice as he lets him go, making Cassian shiver all over again and Kino can’t help chuckling as Cassian groans, pulling himself all the way up and off of his chest. Kino ruffles his hair before he can catch himself and Cassian’s glares at him. He darts forward quickly, kissing Kino in a way that seems to have started out as scolding but is too spent to be anything but soft before pulling away again.
Kino groans, stretching as Cassian starts to put himself back together. He should probably do that too — put on his briefs, find his jeans — but he’s having quite a hard time seeing any future that doesn’t involve rolling over and crashing face down in the carseat cheerios for the next four hours. Although, that would likely be followed by a knock at the window, flashing lights, and an arrest for sleeping bare assed in a public parking lot, so—
The minivan door opens with a sudden sound.
Kino looks up just in time to see Cassian jump out and slide it shut behind him.
Right. Well. He shouldn’t be surprised… Honestly, he’s feeling too well fucked to even be all that disappointed.
Kino sighs. He peels himself off the back seat, grabbing a few spare napkins from the glovebox to clean up with. He finds his briefs, manages to get his jeans back on without falling over which he’s quite proud of. He reaches for the door, and—
The door opens.
Kino blinks. Cassian smiles back at him.
“That was fun,” Cassian says. That dark fringe of hair has fallen into his face again, hoodie unzipped, gold chains catching in the orange light. He looks breathless and flushed and happy .
Kino manages to grunt. He hopes it sounds affirming.
“Here.” Cassian offers him something. Kino takes it — some receipt. He frowns. “Other side,” Cassian directs with that same teasing smile.
Kino flips the receipt. There are numbers written on the back of it.
“That’s my cell,” Cassian says.
Kino looks at the paper in his hands for another moment. He clears his throat. “Thanks,” he says. He looks up, meets Cassian’s eyes. “Thanks,” he says again, and this time he thinks he manages to smile, pushing the paper into his pocket.
Cassian leans forward. He nudges his head in just enough to kiss Kino’s cheek. It’s quick and grazing and oddly sweet for someone who just tried to pound him through the back seat of a Toyota Sienna.
“You want a ride home or—?” Kino hears himself ask.
“No, no — I live close,” Cassian says, pulling back.
He turns away with another flash of a smile, heading out across the car park, hands sliding into his pockets for warmth.
“Oh!” Cassian calls, turning again, steps still carrying him backwards towards the street, “and good luck with the lessons! The leap is always worth it.” He grins. “Trust me.”
Kino watches him turn back, disappearing out into the street.
“Yeah,” Kino shakes his head with a smile, “suppose it is.”