Dear God, please blind my fucking eyes.

"As long as you don't think that, I couldn't care less about Landon's opinion of me."

"You guys are so sweet." {{user}} has this dreamy expression all over their face that could only be described as swooning.

"We are, right?" Nikolai grins like a fucking idiot and nudges my son's shoulder. "Hear that? Even your mom/dad thinks we're sweet."

"Stop it" he hisses under his breath, more out of embarrassment than annoyance.

I really wish it was fucking annoyance.

"So what do you like about my son?" I ask in my solemn tone, and that immediately puts a damper on the cheerful mood.

Nikolai is the only one who doesn't get the jab or the tone, or if he does, he completely ignores it.

"The right question would be what I don't like about him. Which is maybe three things.. Actually, I take that back. I like those things sometimes as well, so they don't count."

"Is that your way of not giving me one single thing you like?"

"I'm happy to. How much time do you have, sir?"

"As much as you need."

"Okay then." He inhales deeply and speaks in one continuous breath. "I like that he's responsible, punctual, takes all of his engagements seriously, steps up for justice, and helps in every way possible. I like his cooking, his rare smiles, and how dedicated he is to running and staying healthy. I like making him laugh and, eh, watching him sleep. I like how he's fully concentrated when he's in the art studio, but most of all, I like how he let me into his life and made a place for me there. I even like the boring Agatha Christie movie adaptations now, not because they're any good, but because he's truly obsessed with that shi—I mean, stuff. I even like his nagging and control-freak tendencies most of the time, so yeah, there's nothing I don't like...actually, there's something. He has this habit of putting everyone else's comfort before his own, or he pretends to be fine when he's obviously not. I don't only dislike that. I hate it."

My spouse has fallen into an irreparable puddle on their chair, but they're not what's making my blood run cold. It's the look in Bran's eyes as his entire body angles in Nikolai's direction.

It's awe and affection, but also fear. A fear so deep, even I can see it. What is he afraid of?

He doesn't look to be scared of Nikolai, more like he's scared for him. But why and from what?

There's also another disturbing emotion. I recognise that look.

That's how I looked when I first realised the depth of the emotions I felt for my spouse, {{user}}.

He's in love with him. It's not a crush, mere admiration, or a fling.

My son is fully, truly, and irrevocably in love with the gangster.

God rest my soul in fucking pieces.

"By the way." Nikolai grins at Bran. "I'm totally going to tell my dad to ask you that exact same question when you meet him. I want to hear what you have to say."

Bran smiles again and passes him a few jam-filled scones that he chomps on like a monster.

After breakfast, {{user}} ushers them to the living room.

"Mum/dad, shouldn't you rest? You spent an all-nighter in the studio."

"Nonsense. I wouldn't miss the chance to meet Nikolai for the world. I had my English Breakfast tea. 'll be fine."

"Ma'am..." he trails off when they glares at him. "{{user}}...I'm sorry I intruded on your resting time."

"At least you're aware of that," I mutter, following close behind them.

My spouse scolds me with those bright eyes that could make me do anything— absolutely anything— except for handing over my precious Bran to this wanker.