Sorry this chapter took so long, and if you're following any of my other stories, I promise I'm working on those, too! I just bought a truck last Monday and I've been really busy getting things together for it since then...plus my boss basically got rid of all non-weekend days off (so we work for twelve days and then get two days off, which really sucks), so things have been hectic. Hopefully they'll go back to normal soon.

Many thanks to kb18142, Sexy. Lil. Emo, charlotte. eliot. 3, OneAcquaintedWithTheNight, dualities, and one guest for your reviews to last chapter!

His dreams that night are disjointed and hazy, but when Lu wakes the next morning, the first thing he feels is a wave of contentment. He doesn't typically remember his dreams, but he can tell that they were good.

Then he opens his eyes and remembers that he's alone in his bed, and he thinks maybe he dreamed that Balthazar was sleeping next to him because the next thing he feels is a surge of disappointment. But he tells himself it's stupid to think like that and he rolls out of bed, yawning and running his fingers through his hair.

He doesn't need to set his alarm anymore—he automatically wakes up at seven every day, unless he spends the night before drinking and carousing until all hours. As he stumbles to the bathroom to brush his teeth, he realizes that it's been awhile since he's woken up hungover, maybe two months. That's quite an accomplishment, considering he used to be a party animal. Then again, he's choosing his friends better now. Maybe I'm growing up, he thinks.

Then he snorts with laughter. Yeah, right.

As he scrambles some eggs for breakfast, he checks his phone. There's a few emails and text messages and one missed call from Raphael—there's a surprise—but nothing from Balthazar. He skims through the emails and answers the text messages before dialing Raphael's number to call him back. He wonders what his brother wants.

"Lu?"

"Yeah, bro. What's up?" He focuses on the sizzle of the frying pan for a moment, if only to distract himself from how awkward it is to talk to his family on the phone. Michael and his father are both ridiculously formal during phone conversations, and Raphael isn't much better. They aren't so bad with texting, but...

"I just wanted to ensure you returned home safely."

Lu feels his eyebrow quirk up of its own accord. "That's it?"

Silence for a moment. "Well, yes, and... you seemed distracted at dinner last night, especially after I inquired about Meg. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine. Like I said, that happened awhile ago. I'm over it."

"But you seemed—"

"There's a lot going on right now," Lu cuts in smoothly, not letting Raphael finish. "It's complicated."

"Oh." Another moment of silence, and Lu wonders if that's the end of it. But he knows his family and knows it's too much to hope for. "Would it help to talk about it?"

He sets the spatula in the pan and turns off the burner. "Uh, not really. It's..." How much should he say? Nothing at all is probably the wisest option, but his family has always been "share your feelings with the class," especially after their mother died, so he knows that a dodge won't really work, not if he wants Raphael to never ask about this again. Considering they were never too close to begin with, he isn't quite sure what to say and what not to say. "Relationship stuff, I guess," he says, opting for the heavily-watered-down version.

"Someone new in your life?"

His knee-jerk reaction is to say yes, but he catches himself. He and Balthazar aren't in a relationship. They haven't even met. "Sort of. It's complicated," he repeats.

"I see," Raphael says, even though Lu is pretty sure he doesn't actually see. "Well, if you need to talk about it, you can always call me."

The strawberry blond closes his eyes and rubs the bridge of his nose. "Raph, before I saw you at the restaurant last night, I thought you were on a business trip. We're... not that close," he says finally.

"We're family," his brother insists quietly. "I didn't know about you and Meg, but you don't tell us anything."

"It's my life."

"We're a part of it, Lu. I'm not saying start working for Dad or anything—I know you hate it there. But at least check in. We're interested in your life. Before I saw you at the restaurant last night, I wasn't even aware you would be there."

Lu presses the phone to his ear with his shoulder before giving up and putting it on speaker. He sets it on the counter and grabs a plate and a fork. "Look, I... I know I don't tell you guys everything. But I tell you the important stuff, okay?"

"Meg wasn't important?"

The words fly out of his mouth before he can stop them. "Not to me."

He holds his breath, wondering what Raphael is going to say about that. "You were seeing her for almost two years."

"A year and a half, but sure, why not?"

"You didn't care about her? You weren't upset when she...?" His voice trails off, as if unsure how to put it.

"I cared about her, yeah. And I was a bit upset, but I wasn't devastated. I wasn't in love with her. It didn't matter. We both moved on."

"I see. Well, if something comes of... whatever is going on in your life, let us know."

"Yeah," Lu agrees, but he knows that's not going to happen—neither anything coming of his relationship with Balthazar, or him actually telling his family about it. He doesn't think his family will be too happy to find out he likes men and women. "I gotta go. I'm about to eat."

If Raphael can sense the dodge, he doesn't comment. "Alright. Have a good day."

"Yeah, you too." Lu hangs up and dumps his eggs onto his plate. If this morning is any indication, he's in for a long day.

Over the course of the next four hours, he fields calls from Michael, his dad, and Warren. He's surprised by all but Warren's call. Apparently, his family has decided to band together and get him to open up about his life, because his conversations with them go roughly the same as the one he had with Raphael. He wonders when they all had this brainwave, and if it was an agreement or if they were acting on their own.

Talking with Warren is less awkward than talking with his family, but not by much. Apparently, Warren is dating someone new, too—a woman named Eve that he really seems to like, which is a change. Of course, it only reminds Lu that he hasn't gotten even an email from Balthazar all morning. Normally, he'd have sent something by now, and although he's not unduly worried, he's curious. Maybe he inadvertently freaked him out without realizing it.

As soon as he hangs up with Warren, he saves Balthazar's number and toys with the idea of texting him. He decides against it, though, at least for the time being. If he doesn't hear from him by tomorrow, he'll attempt to establish contact.

He arrives at work for the afternoon shift and pointedly ignores Ruby's inquisitive stare. He has no idea why she's looking at him like that, but it's irritating. It's not like he's late or anything. His shift starts at one, so he's actually a few minutes early.

Promptly at one-thirty, his phone buzzes in his back pocket, but he doesn't notice it or even get a chance to check it until nearly two. When he does, though, he grins. It's from Balthazar.

Making sure Ruby can't see his screen, he pulls open the message and his grin widens. Good afternoon, love. I hope your weekend has been going well ;-) Attached is a photo from the other man's phone, a shameless selfie of his chest, collarbone to tantalizing hipbones. Oh, that's definitely a nice picture.

Well, it wasn't bad, but it's definitely better now, he sends back, peeking up to see if Ruby's looking at him.

She is, an eyebrow raised. The grin slides off his face as she asks, "What's that all about?"

"Nothing."

"Right. Your not-girlfriend."

"I swear to God—"

"A man doesn't look like that at his phone unless he's talking to the girl he's fucking. Or at least wants to be fucking."

"I missed the part where it's your business," Lu snaps, feeling his phone buzzing in his pocket again. He hopes it's Balthazar, but at the same time, he's the reason he had that stupid grin on his face in the first place.

"Hey, if you're getting laid, I want to be able to stand by with a cake that says 'Congrats on the sex.' God knows you need it after Meg."

The sex or the cake? he wonders, deciding Ruby knows far too much about his personal life at this point. "Right. You are definitely not allowed to be within fifty feet of me if you have a cake that says 'Congrats on the sex.'"

She rolls her eyes. "Come on, Lu. You can't honestly expect me to accept that. There's something going on and you're not telling me."

"Yeah, and if I'm not telling you, it's for a reason," Lu says. He hopes Ruby will just drop it so he can check his phone.

She lets out an exasperated sigh and tugs a hand through her ponytail. He recognizes the gesture—she's trying to come up with another plan of attack, the nosy woman. Lu decides to cut the rest of this conversation off before it can begin by pulling his phone out again and opening the message, taking care to make sure Ruby can't see it.

Excellent. Fancy a call later? comes the response with another picture of Balthazar. This one is all abdominal muscles and clearly-unzipped jeans dragged halfway down hips and more than enough exposed skin to have Lu unconsciously licking his lips. He's not sure what he did to deserve this kind of torture, but if he ever finds out, he'll gladly do it again.

He contemplates sending an aloof, cryptic message in reply, but he really can't be bothered playing this game now. It's too much effort to play hard-to-get when they'll both know it's a lie anyway. Absolutely.

For the second night in a row, he finds himself sprawled out across his bed, painfully alone but with Balthazar's voice breathing in his ear. Listening to him narrate the depraved things he wants to do to him is more than enough to get him hard, but knowing that the other man is also at home by himself and jerking off to these fantasies as well gives it a jagged, desperate edge that has him groaning, imagining it's Balthazar's hands all over him.

He spares a few seconds and a few brain cells' worth of attention to wonder, yet again, why they aren't doing this in person. They clearly have a lot of sexual chemistry—seven months of correspondence is enough to attest to that. Balthazar has quite an imagination, too, with the way he describes all the ways he wants to fuck Lu. There's absolutely no reason for this ridiculous "mystery man" bullshit—if he wants a discreet affair, Lu has no problem keeping it to himself. Unless Balthazar is secretly more rich and famous (not that Lu's really the latter, but he's definitely the former) than he is, their roles should really be reversed, with Lu being the one to hide his identity. But if he's operating under the pretense of Balthazar having been completely honest with him up to this point (and he has no reason to suspect that it's not the case; he has a sixth sense for when people are lying to him), then Lu's positive that, to the world at large, the other man is just some random person.

Maybe, he thinks, Balthazar feels compelled to hide his face because he thinks he's unattractive or assumes Lu will think that. If that's the case, he wishes the man would give him a little more credit than that. Sure, he can appreciate a hot guy, but there's a lot more to sex than just two (or more) gorgeous people going at it. Besides, he's got an amazing body, one that would more than make up for it if he really wants to play the superficial card.

But then Balthazar lets out a needy moan and breathes, "Jesus, love, wanna fuck you so hard... fuck you 'til you scream," and Lu's thoughts snap back to the present moment with more force and speed than a cut rubber band. He can so easily visualize the other man stroking his own dick, groaning as he thrusts mindlessly into his hand, pretending it's actually him, and it sends a thrill of mingled satisfaction and arousal through him.

Lu's back arches, hips raising off the sheets, and his languid pace quickens as he lets out a small moan. He's filled with a desperate want, a craving to have Balthazar rammed deep inside him, to feel the other man releasing inside him and claiming him. He imagines how good it'll feel to be skin-to-skin with him, prays it will even happen. He wants it so badly he can taste it, and he has to bite down on his lip to keep himself from groaning out the other man's name. He closes his eyes, concentrating solely on the sound of Balthazar moaning (he's panting and gasping and Lu can tell just by his voice that he's close to coming, right there at the edge) and he hears himself crying out, and apparently it's all Balthazar needs to hear because he gets louder, and there's a higher-pitched moan that Lu recognizes from last night: the other man is coming. Lu's mind drifts to imagine him riding out his orgasm, thrusting into his hand, rocking his hips as he comes, and he slips too, pumping harder and letting out a satisfied moan as he climaxes.

For nearly a minute, he lays there, his come sticky and drying on his skin as he tries to catch his breath. He knows Balthazar hasn't hung up because he can still hear him breathing on the other end, but the other man doesn't speak for a short time.

"Well," he says, but with no indication that he's going to continue.

"Well," Lu agrees, dragging himself into a sitting position and reaching for the tissues next to his bed. It's high time for another shower, but he can get the excess mess off first.

"I've been thinking," Balthazar starts again, and the bottom nearly drops out of Lu's stomach. He has a feeling he already knows where this is going, but he swallows his disappointment and asks the obligatory question.

"About what?"

He's silent for another moment. Finally, hesitantly, he asks, "Are you still interested in meeting?"

This isn't at all what Lu expected initially. He fights to contain the hope that surges up inside him. "Of course," he says as nonchalantly as he can. And then a thought strikes him. "But I don't want you to feel like you have to. If you're not comfortable with it—"

"That's not why I'm suggesting it. I don't feel pressured, love. We should do it."

He grins, suddenly feeling as giddy as a teenager. "Are you free this weekend?"

"I am," Balthazar says, and the smile in his voice is evident.

"Great. Are you okay with meeting at a hotel? Neutral territory," he explains.

"Which hotel?"

"The Imperial on Twelfth."

There's a beat of silence. "I can't afford that."

"I can. Don't worry about it."

"Lu—"

"Please. Balthazar, I can handle it."

"I don't want you to think I'm using you."

"I don't think that. I offered, after all." He's brought three other people to the Imperial Hotel before this, and none of them fought him like this. They all practically jumped at the chance, especially after they found out Lu was paying the entire bill. It'xs almost endearing that Balthazar is so worried over what he'll think.

"Alright. If you're sure."

"I am sure. I'll text you with details once I make the reservation."

"Alright, love. I'll talk to you later."

"Yeah. Good night."

"You, too, love."

Lu hangs up and pulls on a robe. It's only after he's dialing the number for the Imperial that he realizes he likes it maybe a little too much when Balthazar calls him "love."

I'm taking a leaf out of Hussie's book and making the next chapter an intermission. We get to meet the man behind the voice (AKA Balthazar)!