Monday: December 31, 2029
11:02 PM; LOS ANGELES, THE AUSTEN-TAYLOR HOUSEHOLD, MASTER BEDROOM
Jensen lay on his side beside Bo, tracing a pointless design over the blonde’s heart. “Are you scared for tomorrow?”
“I don’t know if scared is the right word,” Bo said quietly. “I’m nervous, though. The Change of Command Ceremony is… Well, that one’s certainly terrifying. Me, a forensic analyst, standing in front of citizens and reporters? Becoming the new chief in front of those people? They’re going to question the hell out of me. How did I get the job? Who did I have to sleep with to get here? Did I kill someone to get the mayor to choose me?” He let out a breath. “I don’t know, love. I’m getting cold feet.”
“You’ll be okay, baby. Promise.”
Bo shook his head. “I’m nervous, Jens. Jamal’s going to retire in front of me. He’ll have his retirement badge. I…” He closed his eyes. “I don’t know where he’s going, but he’s leaving Frank with me and heading out for a few months. It scares the hell out of me. I don’t know if I can do any of this without him looming over me.”
“Well… pretend Frank’s Jamal and let him loom over you,” Jensen suggested.
Bo laughed. “Yeah, maybe.” He forced his eyes open. “What if I’m not good enough for this?”
With a grunt, Jensen propped himself up on one elbow, his temple resting on his fist. “Baby, you’re good enough for anything you put your mind to. If this is something you wanna do, and I know it is, you’ll be great at it.” He reached out with his free hand, pushing Bo’s hair away from his forehead. “I was scared when I made sergeant. Twice. Like, shit my pants scared. But I knew you’d be there if I needed you. The same goes here, baby. If you need anything at all, I’m right there.”
“Thank you.” Bo leaned up to kiss him, a hand on the younger man’s face. “Do I really have to swear on the Bible?”
Jensen chuckled. “Yeah, baby, I think so.” Bo groaned, dropping back to the bed. “Just pretend you believe it.”
“That’s highly illogical.”
Jensen rolled his eyes. Pushing himself up, he slung a leg over Bo’s hips. “Pretend you’re talking about me instead of God. I’ll be the one holding the Bible, anyway. Pretend it’s you swearing on my hands instead. You swear on me that you’ll protect the people of this city and all of that jazz.”
“That’s… actually not half bad,” Bo said quietly. “Jensen Taylor, you just might be a genius.”
“Hooray,” Jensen whispered. He leaned down and kissed Bo, a hand resting on his cheek. “You’re gonna be so great tomorrow. Promise.”
“I sure hope so,” Bo whispered back.
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