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It's not that it was my most stressful day ever. The fire had been worse. Other days, before I left my pack, had been worse. But it was a pretty stressful day. I needed to blow off steam. I needed to dance. And, hopefully, have sex.
Elias wasn't answering my texts, so I just went to dance. Sex could wait. Maybe it was wrong to want to sleep with Elias to blow off steam. I didn't know what we really were to each other. When we were honest about it, I mean, instead of dancing around it with words.
He was better than me at that. He'd also been kind, to say it didn't have to be boyfriends, it didn't have to be serious at all. Even though if I thought about it, I knew very well this could become serious, the most serious of all.
But I couldn't think about that without my throat feeling tight and my chest sort of hurting. It was too much right now. I needed to blow off steam.
So I went dancing. I didn't wear anything that screamed 'fuck me,' just put on some clothes I could move easily in. It was good to dance. It felt good to move, to be free of expectations and other people's standards for a while. I wasn't even keeping one eye out for somebody to fuck, so it was kind of even more freeing than before.
Still, I spotted someone familiar heading towards me, an intent look on his face. An older guy. I'd been with him before. Maybe he wanted a repeat. He sure looked like he wanted a repeat. Before he could say a word, I gently shook my head, leaning in close so he could hear me over the music.
"I'm just dancing," I said. "I'm seeing somebody, so I'm not looking to hook up."
"Oh?" He looked around. "Is he here?'
I shook my head. "Not today. It's still pretty new. It's exciting for me. I've never really dated before."
He squeezed my arm. "I'll wish you good luck, then, even though it looks like I've lost mine for the night."
"You'll find somebody," I told him.
He gave me a wink. "Not someone as hot as you."
I liked hearing it, especially since he already knew what I was like in bed. It boosted my mood to hear that. "Thanks," I said, and he gave me another wink and left me to it.
By the time I left, I was all danced out. But I still felt sort of hungry and shaky inside, like something was off and I didn't know how to fix it. I wanted Elias. And I really didn't want to have to face him. He'd wonder about my day. He'd know something was wrong, even if I tried to hide it.
That was the thing, I would never be able to hide from Elias. And maybe, if I was with him, I wouldn't be able to hide from myself either. But he keeps the nightmares away. And he helps. He cares about me, and I care about him.
What if I love him? What do I do then?
It shouldn't sound as scary as it was. To me, it was terrifying. To love somebody meant losing your independence. It meant belonging to somebody, not being your own person anymore—maybe ending up bossed around or controlled even more than when my father was in charge of me.
Of course, Elias wasn't like that. But if he got like that, or if I got like that with him, and we loved each other, it would be so hard to part. It would be hard to step away if it got unhealthy.
What was I gonna do about it?
Nothing. I never did anything about my problems unless I got desperate, but I wasn't desperate. I was just shaken and feeling odd and lost. Knowing how much my partner really didn't like or want me hurt. It was fine to say that Curt was looking at the possibility of pairing me with Drew instead, or something else that would let me keep working at the precinct, maybe as a consultant instead of an employee.
We'd even talked about how maybe I could become a firefighter. It sounded cool when we talked about it, but I knew it was only a far off possibility, not guaranteed. It would mean learning a lot, and a whole change to my routine and everything I'd gotten used to about the precinct. I'd have to make new friends, and probably end up with some enemies, too. That was if they'd even consider letting me join.
Then there was the fire part. As much as I'd done what I had to do, I really hadn't enjoyed it. It had been scary as fuck running into that burning building. I didn't think I could ever enjoy that.
Of course, firefighters didn't usually run into burning buildings alone without backup or gear. But, if it had happened once in my life already, it could surely happen again, especially if I worked with fires on purpose. So, I wasn't ready to jump at that idea even though there were things about it that I liked.
For one thing, everybody likes firefighters, and it doesn't seem like there are dirty firefighters, or if there are, you don't hear about it much. So maybe working there, I'd be surrounded by pretty good guys I could always trust, instead of a mix of guys I had to figure out along the way. Because in real life, there are actually dirty cops and you don't always get the memo right away about who they are or how to deal with that.
Maybe. Maybe not. Probably I'd find a way to make enemies wherever I went—and friends, too. I did tend to say whatever went into my head, and some people liked that, because they trusted me when they realized just how honest I was going to be, like it or not. And some people, it made them disgusted with me: pouring my messy life and thoughts out there for anybody to see and judge, even though plenty would.
Maybe I could stop doing that someday. It didn't feel like I'd still be me, if I ever managed to turn that part off. But maybe, maybe. Maybe anything could happen if I was dating Elias, and not freaking out.
Stop thinking about dating...
"Rory," said Henny, stepping forward from the shadows. I'd been walking to my car after dancing. I was sweaty and needed to go home for a shower. I was thinking too much, or I might have seen or smelled him sooner. As it was, he completely surprised me.
He looked cute, in his raggedy jeans with the ripped knees, his faded, sleeveless band tee that almost made him look less clothed than he'd have looked shirtless. He looked great, as always. He smelled great. He'd put on some eyeliner, so he looked a little goth, and a little gay. He made my stupid heart patter.
He was my bad decision. He always was. Maybe he always would be. Waiting there to tempt me. Except, today, not from a distance, because he stepped up to me and took hold of my shirt and leaned up onto his toes and in towards me.
"Care to dance?"
"I've already danced. I'm going home." I tried not to respond to him. Not to get hard, not to grab hold of him, not to lean in to his touch.
"Oh." He let go of my shirt. "Well, can I come with you?"
I looked at him. "Why?"
He shrugged. "Just feeling lonely tonight. I thought you'd be good company."
"You didn't come here to dance?" I guessed.
His smile was sly, there and gone. "I came to find you."
"Oh."
Had he heard I was seeing Elias now? I ought to tell him. He needed to know that I wasn't going down on him tonight.
"So, um, me and Elias..." I began.
"You and Elias what?" He looked up at me with big, innocent eyes.
"We're together," I mumbled. "Like, sexually."
"Oh. Okay, that's cool," said Henny. "I don't mind. You can still do me, right?"
"No?" My voice croaked a little. "I'm gonna be with Elias and see how that goes. Just him," I added, in case he hadn't gotten that part.
"Let me guess. Was that his idea?"
"Maybe?" I felt overwhelmed. Henny had a slightly mean look to him now, his eyes narrowing, judging me.
"You want to maybe reconsider that?" he asked. "For instance, if maybe I went a little farther this time?"
"What?" It wasn't even up to a croak now.
"Take me into your bed and let's see what happens. Maybe it's my turn to take care of you, not just let you take care of me."
I swallowed hard. "I promised I wouldn't have sex with anybody else, unless I broke up with Elias first," I told him shakily. Why was he putting these images in my head, of him all needy and naked and open to me on my bed, touching and being touched, letting himself be really there with me, letting me teach him—
I shook my head. "That's not right. You don't want to do all that or you would have already."
"Maybe I didn't realize what I was missing until I couldn't have it." He slipped two fingers into my pocket and drew out my cell phone. He handed it to me. In the dark, his eyes gleamed. "Why don't you call Elias?"
"What?" For a second, I didn't know what he was saying. I accepted my phone and managed not to drop it.
"Break up with him. You know he's not right for you, anyway. I'll go to bed with you and then you'll see."
"No." I didn't have to think about my answer, though it was kind of hard to talk. My throat hurt, because suddenly, I could see Henny as he was: selfish, clear through. He didn't care how much it would hurt Elias, or me later. He'd get to experiment with me for the night, and learn something fun. And most of all, he'd "win."
"Why not?" said Henny, eyes flashing. "Not good enough for you now, am I? Now that you're with the goody-two-shoes?"
"No, that's not it. The answer's just no. You can go dance and meet someone who will be glad to teach you. Not me."
I brushed past him and got into my car.
He didn't try to follow. But he glared after me, all the way.
#
Elias got home late. So late that I gave up waiting for him and had settled in to bed with the TV on and was hoping I could sleep. It didn't seem likely.
"I'm sorry I didn't text," said Elias. "But you know they don't let us look at our phones on the job, and I didn't get any break at all today except a quick bathroom break. I'm starving, by the way. I hate when I have a work schedule like that!"
I craned my neck to look at him. "You didn't eat?"
"No, I didn't eat." He came over and leaned down to kiss me. "You smell sad. What's up?" He headed to the fridge. "Tell me about it while I eat!"
"You don't want to hear it, if you had a bad day." But I got up and followed him, anyway.
"Of course I want to hear it." He started taking things out of the fridge and assembling a haphazard sandwich, eating pieces of food as he went. His hands were shaking a little.
"They're supposed to let you have food breaks," I pointed out. "You're a shifter."
"Yeah, and if I make a point about that or report them to anybody, guess who's going to be job hunting? Again?"
"Well, if they treat you that bad—"
"Rory! Tell me what's wrong! We can talk about my work another day. I'm used to it, and nothing's changing right away, no matter what. But you're really upset."
"I am," I admitted, plopping down to sit at the kitchen table. I sighed. "Walt really hates me. We're not going to end up working together much longer. There will be options for me. Maybe me and Drew will be together instead. But." I scrubbed my face with my hands. "He really does hate me. I knew it...but now I know it."
Elias moved around the table and put his arms around my shoulders, hugging me the best he could with me hunched over like that.
"I'm sorry." He rubbed my hair, quick and rough like he needed to scrub away the pain, and kissed the back of my neck.
"Who's Drew?" he asked.
"A guy I work with. He's okay. He's nice. He doesn't want me to be somebody I'm not. But neither did Walt before we started." I looked up at him, tears in my eyes. "Neither do you, now."
He looked at me a moment, blinking. Then he went back to his new sandwich and took a big bite. "I can't help it," he said indistinctly. "I'm hungry."
I laughed, just a little. I rubbed my eyes again. "I don't want to keep you from eating. But I am freaking out. Just a bit."
"Sure, just a bit. Do you think I'm lying, when I say this can be casual, between us?" He gestured between us, then grabbed quickly for a piece of falling lettuce and stuffed it into his mouth. His eyes watched me, very alert.
"I think you're being kind. I think we're both lying if we believe it. It feels important, doesn't it?"
"Sure, it feels important. I wouldn't sleep with anybody if it didn't. For me, it's important. That doesn't mean you have to make some big commitment or freak out about the m-word." He grinned. He had something in his teeth, but he was still cute.
There would probably never be a time he wasn't attractive, at least to me. But that might not be enough. I was always going to be attracted to Henny, too, and I knew, now, what bad news he was for me. Because I would care, and he wouldn't. But Elias and I, we both cared, didn't we? So why did I have to freak out here?
"I'm a fuckup, Elias. Maybe that doesn't matter now, but in ten years when you need somebody who can provide and—and not make simple mistakes all the time, and forget stuff, and lose his job for some dumb reason, and can't even do simple—"
"That's bullshit," said Elias. "I don't need a provider! If we're together, okay, you're not perfect. But you're not the fuckup your father convinced you that you are. You've succeeded at so many things, and you keep trying. You keep learning. And you ask for help. I think that's more important than being good at everything—being able to ask for help with the things you're not good at. Could one person in a hundred have done what you did?"
"You mean the fire—"
"I mean the fire. I mean leaving your pack the way you did. I mean making people feel welcome everywhere you go. I mean being you. Nobody else is going to be you, Rory. I like you."
"I like you, too," I said, through tears. "But is that going to be enough?"
"Yes? Obviously?" He looked at me sternly. "If you want some perfect match made in heaven, I'm sure I'm not that guy. But I don't think I have to be. And I don't think we're old enough that we should have to make any big decision about mates yet. It's just too soon and too much. We're young. We like each other. We're sharing a home and some great sex. Why does that have to be so scary? It can be enough. If we decide that it has to be more later, or that we have to break up, well, we'll deal with it later."
"What if we stop liking each other?"
"Then we can break up, okay? I'm not going to keep you if you want to be free. Maybe you'll get bored and want more than one man can give you in bed. Then we'll know we weren't fated to be together, right?" He smiled, but it was sad. "If that's what's true for you, then that's what I want you to have, Rory. It just won't be with me along for the ride."
"I don't think I need that," I said. "It's the rest of it, the grownup stuff, the relationship stuff, the not fucking each other up or—or hating each other in the end that I'm scared of."
"Fuck Walt," said Elias, surprisingly angry, and so fast. "I'm tired of the guys in your life doing a number on you. Your father fucked with your head and told you that you were never good enough and too gay. Your own partner doesn't support you and help you enough. Your big crush just took advantage of you to experiment with gay stuff but not reciprocate. And you always seem to think it's about you! You can't pick your father, and you can't pick your crushes, but I'm glad you're going to pick a different partner—yes, fuck Walt!—and...and I'm glad you're dating me now, because I'm not going to do that to you."
I looked at him, and I knew he was telling the truth. If he got frustrated with me, he wouldn't put it all on me. He wouldn't let me take all the blame, even if things went badly wrong. Elias told the truth, and the truth was, not everything that had gone wrong in my life was my fault. I mean, I was a contributing factor. Don't get me wrong. But it wasn't all me.
I nodded cautiously at his words.
He let out a heavy breath, sounding frustrated. "You grew up in a messed up pack. Your best friend decided to enter an arranged marriage because it was his best option. But it's not your best option. You always have options, okay? Just talk with me about it first and break up with me if you have to. I'll survive it. I'll still care about you, but I'll survive, and I won't be a dick about it."
He'd finished his sandwich first. He came over and sat on my lap, putting his arms around my neck. "You're a lovely, wonderful wolf, and you don't have to be perfect. I'm not either, in case you haven't noticed." He gave me a kiss on the nose. His breath smelled like lunchmeat, and I was still in tears, so it wasn't the best time to think of sex.
I tightened my arms around him. It felt really good to have my arms around him, to have him there, solid and good-smelling, my Elias. Was he mine? Was that okay? Could I do that?
"I like you," I told him. "I wanted to have sex to feel better, but you were busy. Maybe that's not cool anyway, I don't know. I don't want to just use you, so don't let me do that."
"I'm fine with having sex to get over a bad day. It sounds better than ice cream and movies."
"Yeah, it does. Anyway, I went dancing instead. I didn't hook up with anybody, although two people asked me. No, three. One was just a hint. Another was a guy I'd done it with before. I told him I was seeing somebody, and he wished me luck. And then there was Henny."
"What?!" His anger was quick and hot. He glared at me. "He didn't? He did?! That little bitch!"
"He offered. He wanted to do stuff. I told him no. He said I should break up with you and take him home. But I know he just...just wanted to experiment." I swallowed hard. "He doesn't care about me, Elias. But you and me? We do care about each other. And that really scares me."
He looked into my eyes, his face softening with compassion. "Why?" he asked very quietly.
"Because I fail at so many things. I don't want to fail at this, too." I buried my face against his shoulder, and I cried.
"Oh, hon." He kept hold of me and rubbed my shoulder. "You're in a bad way. I promise, I'm not an asshole like your dad. I don't think you're a failure, and honestly? If you ever do fail at something important? I'm just going to keep on liking you anyway."
I pulled myself together enough to straighten up and ask, "What if we don't end up staying together?"
"Then I'll be the one that got away." He stuck his tongue out at me. "What you could've had!"
I laughed. I couldn't help it. I wiped at my eyes. "Well, I've got you now."
"That's right. You do." He gave me a kiss on the forehead. "And if you let me finish eating and get myself cleaned up, I would be very glad to go to bed with you—for any reason or none at all."
"That sounds pretty good," I admitted.
"It does." He gave me a squeeze and got up. "I have to eat first. I have to shower."
"Sure." I sat there, watching him move around the kitchen. He was tired and hungry and he smelled a bit from his long day at work—like sweat and stress, and fox, and grocery store, which is a particular smell that mixes in many others.
He was also very, very clearly hot and bothered for me. He wouldn't be humoring me by having sex with me. He'd be humoring himself, too.
"Why are you watching me?" he asked.
"I don't know. I like watching you."
"I guess I can't argue with that." He grinned a little as he took a bite of his sandwich.
He sure was pretty when his eyes danced like that.