Chapter Text
_____________________________
Nicholas wondered when he had started to dread coming home.
The thought crossed his mind as he sat in the car, staring blankly at the dashboard, accompanied by the dead silence. It was a bit jarring how the cold, stiff seat felt more comforting than the house he was supposed to find solace in after work.
Home had once been a refuge, a place where the world could disappear and comfort him with just the presence of his wife, but now it felt more like a cage, each step inside tightening the bars.
Maybe it had started when the fights became a torturous continuous routine, when the presence of his wife no longer brought peace nor happiness but tension that hung in the air like a poisonous fog.
Nicholas couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when being with her had begun to feel oppressive, but the weight of it pressed on him now, even as he waited in the driveway.
The fact that he was considering driving back to work was so unbelievable to him. He never would have imagined that he would rather be working than be with his wife.
Work had somehow become his preferred escape—long drawn hours of selling cars, handling tasks that didn’t need to be handled, finding reasons to stay late, Anything was better than stepping back into the house, into the silence broken only by the occasional sharp word, into the the mortgage that seem to loom over him like a threat.
It hadn’t always been this way. He remembered the version of himself from five years ago—the Nicholas who was eager to give his wife the world, who had signed the papers for this house because it was what she had wanted. He had been so sure that this was the life he wanted, too.
And he still loved Valentine. How couldn’t he?
His high school sweetheart. His wife of five years, the mother of their son. Nico. His son was the most important person in the whole world. That unconditional love he had for his son was the only reason he kept coming back, why he didn’t spend his nights in a hotel where he could actually sleep without the dreadful tension curling over him.
But love, he realized now, wasn’t always enough to make the walls of a home feel less suffocating.
Nicholas sighed, dragging a hand over his face as if that would somehow erase the exhaustion that had settled deep in his bones. His rough stubble grazed his palm, a faint reminder how he was beginning to let himself go.
He was barely in his thirties yet he felt so much older.
Nicholas made a mental note to shave—appearance mattered at work. A clean face meant professionalism, and if nothing else, he still had that to uphold.
Valentine had always preferred him clean-shaven too, a small detail that once mattered in the early years, those years seem like ages ago. It felt like a relic from a time when he still cared about her preferences, when pleasing her mattered and wasn’t an obligation but a joy.
Another sigh, deeper this time, and he pulled his keys from his pocket, the familiar metallic jangle echoed in the late afternoon silence. He unlocked the door, stepping into his home-sweet home .
Nicholas scoffed at the stupid doormat.
The absence of his wife’s car in the driveway hadn’t escape his notice, and he couldn’t help the quiet relief that washed over him. No tense silences, no sharp-cutting words waiting on the other side of the threshold. He would have time to breathe before it all started again.
If he weren’t so tired, maybe he would have felt worse about it, but as he stood at the front door, hand resting on the knob, the silence inside seemed more like a balm than a burden.
Inside, the house was washed in the soft glow of late afternoon, the warm orange sunlight slipping through the curtains and pooling on the floors. For a moment, Nicholas just stood there, taking in the quiet that felt more peaceful than usual.
His eyes wandered to the living room where he heard a pair of soft giggles echoing through the house. There, on the floor, Cooper sat cross-legged with Nico.
Blocks were scattered around them, some stacked into precarious towers and half-formed into something that was more abstract than architectural, others lying in disarray. Yet, both boys’ eyes gleamed with pride.
The sight was almost too much. For a moment, Nicholas stood there, watching, trying to gather the fragments of himself that always seemed to break apart when he crossed the threshold of his home.
Cooper had come into their lives out of necessity.
With both Nicholas and Valentine working full-time, neither being able to—or perhaps willing—to rearrange their schedules for the sake of staying home, they’d hired him to look after Nico.
It wasn’t a difficult decision; they needed help, and Cooper, being a 23-year-old college student, needed the money. His parents, he had mentioned once, didn’t offer much in the way of financial support, especially not for the extra things—art supplies, materials for projects, his own personal needs—that he needed to get by.
There had been something so striking about Cooper from the start.
Quiet, polite, and eager to help, he had slipped into their routine without much fuss, quickly becoming a steady presence in their home. He was young, just on the cusp of adulthood, but there was a simplicity to him—a kind of innocence that Nicholas found both refreshing and disarming.
Cooper’s financial situation had never been the topic of conversation for long. He wasn’t one to complain, never dwelling on his lack of support from his parents, and if anything, it seemed to fuel his determination to make things work on his own.
Nicholas admired that about him—his quiet resilience. Cooper didn’t seem to carry the bitterness or frustration that often came with financial strain. Instead, he worked hard, balanced his studies, and still managed to bring an easy warmth into their home that Nicholas hadn’t realized was missing.
Nicholas remembered the day they’d first met, how vividly it still stood out to him. He’d come home, frustrated and angry after losing a big sale at work, the kind of day that sat heavy in his veins. All of that had evaporated the moment he stepped inside and found a stranger in his living room.
The first thing he had noticed was how beautiful the young man was. It startled him because he had never considered using that word for a man before. But Cooper—he looked like he’d stepped out of some whimsical dream. Nicholas had frozen on the spot, too taken by surprise to move, while the boy stood there, wide-eyed, looking just as stunned. Those eyes—Bambi-like, large and innocent—reminded Nicholas of a deer caught in headlights.
It was the smile that broke the spell. The most adorable smile Nicholas had ever seen, such a breathtaking sight if he was honest. He couldn’t help but smile back, though he was still trying to figure out what this boy was doing in his house.
“Am I at the wrong house?” Nicholas had looked around, confusion clear in his voice as he checked to make sure he hadn’t stumbled into his neighbor’s home by mistake.
The boy—Cooper—had giggled, a sound so light that it made Nicholas think, for a fleeting moment, that maybe he’d gotten into an accident on the way home and was now standing at the gates of heaven, greeted by angels who giggled before delivering news of his fate.
But from what he knew, angels certainly weren’t dressed in a black bomber jacket with a U.S flag patch on the arm, dark denim jeans that hugged long legs, and black Doc Martens.
“I’m the babysitter.” Cooper had explained, the smile fading into something more nervous as Nicholas stood there, still processing. “Your wife hired me.”
“Right.” Nicholas had nodded, feeling foolish for not realizing sooner. He extended a hand, unsure of how else to break the awkwardness. “I’m Nicholas, and you are?”
“Cooper.” The boy had replied, taking his hand with a gentleness that felt out of place. Nicholas remembered how small and soft Cooper’s hand felt in his own calloused one, and how he’d been careful not to grip too hard, as though the boy might break.
That memory lingered now, as Nicholas watched Cooper with his son, the scene calm and untroubled in a way that Nicholas’s life hadn’t been in years. It shouldn’t have felt as comforting as it did, this presence of someone so young, so pure. But Nicholas couldn’t deny it. Cooper was like a breath of fresh air in a house that had grown stale with resentment.
Nico’s soft laughter, Cooper’s gentle encouragement—It was a simple scene, but something about it anchored him.
He stepped forward, his movements slower, more deliberate, as though he didn’t want to disturb the fragile peace in front of him.
But Cooper noticed him quickly.
“Hi!” Cooper greeted him with a smile, glancing up from where he sat on the floor. His voice had that easy warmth, something Nicholas had come to expect but still found surprising, given how much tension lived in this house.
Nicholas nodded, feeling the faintest tug of a smile in response. “Looks like you two are busy.”
Cooper glanced at Nico, who was carefully stacking another block onto the growing tower. “We’re making a castle, aren’t we, Nico?” He said with the kind of enthusiasm only someone like Cooper could maintain in the face of something so small and ordinary. There was no trace of cynicism in him, no sign of the exhaustion that seemed to cling to everyone else Nicholas knew.
And maybe that’s why Nicholas found himself drawn to him. Cooper was… uncomplicated, untainted by the bitterness Nicholas had allowed to take root in his own life. It was as if Cooper still believed the world had good things to offer, a belief Nicholas had long since abandoned.
He forced a smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes, but he crouched down beside his son, ruffling the little boy’s soft hair. “A castle, huh?” To which Nico simply giggled, still not old enough to understand exactly what his father was saying. He was only three.
Hearing his son’s delighted giggle turned his own smile into a genuine one. Nicholas couldn’t even feel the usual ache in his knees from crouching or kneeling for too long just by it.
“It’s an awesome castle, buddy.” He murmured, though he barely looked at the colorful wooden blocks, his attention drifted to Cooper again, lingering just a beat too long.
The boy’s face was so warm that he seemed to glow as he devoted his undivided attention to Nicholas’ son, who babbled incomprehensibly about what he assumed was towers and castles.
He let his eyes drift over the boy’s body, telling himself there was nothing wrong in the glance, no intention behind it. Cooper wore a light blue striped long-sleeve polo shirt that made a striking contrast against his warm skin, paired with light-wash jeans and pristine white sneakers. Everything about him looked perfect, even the shoelaces—starkly clean, as if the shoes had just freshly come out of the box.
His eyes flickered back up and found eyes looking at him already. Cooper smiled at him, oblivious, and Nicholas looked away quickly, the guilt settling in like a familiar ache. He shouldn’t be taking advantage of Cooper, no matter the form it took—not when Cooper had done nothing wrong and had given so much without even realizing it.
“Thank you for looking after him.” Nicholas said softly, his voice edged with something more than simple gratitude. He wanted to say more—wanted to apologize for every raised voice and every fight Cooper had witnessed, for every thought that sometimes crossed his mind—but the words felt stuck, lodged behind the growing knot in his throat.
So, his eyes flickered back to Cooper, hoping the kid would understand everything Nicholas wanted to convey.
How important he was to this family and to Nicholas.
But staring into the boy’s eyes that were filled with such rare kindness made Nicholas’s guilt press harder against his ribs.
Cooper had seen too much—their fights, their fraying relationship. Nicholas knew he shouldn’t let it happen in front of anyone, let alone someone as young and kind as Cooper. But the arguments seemed to have a way of slipping into every corner of the house, poisoning even the smallest moments.
And there was Cooper, unconsciously being a beacon of comfort in the midst of it all. It wasn’t fair.
Nicholas didn’t want to be the cause to destroy that.
But Cooper just smiled again, shrugging lightly as though it was nothing at all. “He’s a good kid.” He replied. “I don’t mind.”
But Nicholas minded. He minded so much that it was becoming unbearable. His son adored Cooper, clung to him like a lifeline when Nicholas couldn’t provide the same warmth. And Nicholas—he didn’t know what to make of the way Cooper made him feel.
There was a danger to it.
Nicholas was drawn to the light, but it was a light he knew he shouldn’t follow. Not with the mess his life had become.
“I like working for you.” Cooper’s lashes framed his golden-honey eyes, fluttering with each word and pulling Nicholas in with an undeniable sincerity. “I feel safe here… with you.” He confessed, his voice steady and gentle, filling the air with a truth that felt palpable, catching him off guard.
Nicholas nodded but said nothing. What could he say to a confession that would certainly stay on his mind for days without sounding like a creep? So instead, he focused on the way Cooper blushed, the rosy flush spreading across his cheeks, complimenting his warm, olive skin.
It was captivating in a way that Nicholas couldn’t ignore but he forced himself to look away, as the glint of his ring brought him back to reality. He was a married man, he shouldn’t be staring at anyone else besides his wife.
The quiet returned as Nicholas stood, his legs stiff from crouching too long. He glanced at Cooper again, feeling the unspoken tension swirl between them.
“I’ll leave you two kids to build your castle. Uh, Let me know if you need a break.” His voice was strained, though he tried to hide it.
Cooper nodded, but Nicholas didn’t miss the slight tilt of his head, the way his brows knitted together for a brief second, as though he was beginning to sense the undercurrents that neither of them wanted to acknowledge.
Nicholas turned away before the moment could stretch any further.