Being(s) In Love 03 - A Beginner’s Guide to Wooing Your Mate (15 page)

Since most of the frosting was now stuck to the wrap, he licked there for his first taste, and then again at the top of the cupcake. He accidentally met Zeki’s gaze as he did. Zeki hummed, maybe in encouragement for Theo to taste more. So Theo bit the cupcake in half, being sure to get some of the mousse as well as the cake and the frosting. The moment all five of the chocolates hit his tongue he closed his eyes and whined in frustration.

He wanted more but the cupcake was so small. Another bite gave him a mouth full of chocolate but left a hollow ache in his empty hand. He licked fluffy, sweet mousse and dark, bitter cocoa from his lips and then swallowed before opening his eyes. It took him a moment to realize that the soft moan had come from Zeki.

“Oh.” Theo felt like the chocolate had drugged him. He supposed it had, in a way. His body continued to grow warm. Words took effort. He wanted to curl up around Zeki’s body and lick until Zeki was moaning again. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to sleep next to Zeki. What had he done when he’d made those cupcakes? “The brownie was like that?”

“Better,” Zeki promised him fervently, breathing the word. He sounded hungry. Theo thought of the chocolate on his breath and how Zeki must have eaten some of the cupcakes before he’d showed up at the firehouse. He might be aching too, like Theo was. If Theo kissed him, they would both taste of chocolate and frustration. Zeki might say his name again, as if he knew what had Theo boiling so hot and how to take care of it.

A week ago, Theo hadn’t realized how frustrated he was. Now the town knew—and had been buying his sexual frustration cupcakes in a charity bake sale. He broke their shared gaze and rubbed magicked chocolate from his mouth. “Oh no.”

Zeki took the crumpled plastic wrap from his hands, licked at the frosting as casually as any were unconcerned for the germs, then rolled it into a ball and threw it into his bag. It was unexpectedly arousing. Zeki was so perfect. Why did Zeki have to be so perfect?

Theo burned all over, desire and anger making him move. He took a half step toward the kitchen, then remembered his self-imposed exile from his favorite room. “The kitchen is that way.” He gestured to indicate Zeki could explore the room on his own.

“Got it.” Zeki sighed, but it was not an unhappy sound. He showed no interest in exploring without Theo. “What about this room? Or how about where you sleep?”

Theo stumbled, but waved at the round table or the couch in front of the TV. The rec room didn’t have much to see aside from abandoned books and unfinished crosswords and whatever was on TV. They would watch almost anything that came on. Hopefully that would give him something to talk about.

He felt sixteen again, and it wasn’t fair. Theo was quiet, not shy, but now finding things to say that wouldn’t embarrass him was impossible. “Did you come in through the garage or the side door? Either way you probably saw the trucks and the equipment. We sleep upstairs, but we spend most of our time down here.”

Zeki studied the room while Theo hesitated. He didn’t seem embarrassed or nervous about anything, if Theo paid no attention to his elevated heart rate. His focus was on the room and his job, as it should be. Theo was the one who kept getting distracted.

“What kind of spell are you going to do?” Theo’s knowledge of magic was limited, but Zeki rewarded him for the question with a brief, approving look.

“I’m thinking something small but ever present.” Zeki trailed off for a second, putting his head back to stare up at the ceiling. He was probably considering the sleeping quarters, but Theo didn’t offer to show them to him. He didn’t need any more stimuli for his nervous system. If Zeki noticed Theo’s tension he chose not to comment. “Perhaps something in here where you recharge, maybe using your own good feelings to keep it going. But you’ll also need something you all take with you, but which won’t get in the way. A charm or amulet would probably be a bad idea. A broad spectrum protection spell can… well it can be bulky and cause problems. But specific spells against heat or burning, or even one for more strength might help, give a trapped firefighter extra time they might not have otherwise.” Zeki focused on Theo. “What parts of your uniforms don’t come off?”

“Ah….” Theo’s thoughts stuttered at the thought of removing his uniform, making him freeze long enough to make it obvious where his mind had been. He directed his eyes away, his skin stinging and his muscles tense with the effort to be still. They shouldn’t have left him alone with Zeki. The strong waves of arousal after years of nothing meant he
was
almost sixteen again. He was going to humiliate himself. But he clenched his jaw and gestured down at himself and his works pants, T-shirt, and suspenders.

Zeki came over. He skated his fingertips over Theo’s shoulder and searched Theo’s face before dragging a fingertip down the length of one suspender strap. “Man-made,” he muttered, almost to himself. Theo clenched his jaw and tried not to inhale too much of Zeki’s scent. “A drawing won’t last nearly as long as this fabric will.” Zeki brought his gaze up. He was so much taller than he had been when they were kids. “Theo.” He spoke quietly before playfully tugging on one strap. “Come here.”

And then he moved, walking over to the couch and sitting down. Theo followed him without blinking.

“There is more power in something that takes thought. Combined effort, even on the different tasks involved to get to the spell.” Zeki took a long time to put his bag on the ground and open it. He paused, then reached inside for a small, leather bound kit. Theo was surprised to see it contained a set of sewing implements. “Spun the thread myself,” Zeki admitted with a sideways, lopsided smile. “Although I did not make the needles.”

He chose a spool of white thread, a thick needle, and a gleaming silver thimble, then glanced up again. “Your suspenders,” he explained, and then bent down without asking Theo to take them off. Theo leaned back, barely breathing. The back of Zeki’s fingers brushed his chest, hot through his shirt. Even with a thimble there should have been no way for Zeki to push a needle through the strap without effort and pain, but the needle slipped through on the first pass.

Zeki had a terrifying amount of easily accessible magic, but that wasn’t why Theo’s heart was beating rapidly or why he straightened up when Zeki all but crawled into his lap. With that much power Zeki could have gone to work anywhere. What was he thinking coming to Wolf’s Paw, where most of the residents were hesitant to consult a magician?

He hummed as he worked, and Theo wrinkled his nose at the growing itchy scent of magic but didn’t interrupt what was probably part of the spellcasting. If anything, the itch was a distraction from the teasing press of Zeki’s fingers, and the smell of his hair, and the heat of his body next to Theo’s thigh.

His cardigan was gray, trimmed with pink. It looked comfortable, soft. Theo wanted to push the sleeves up to see the rest of Zeki’s arms. He wanted to know if the tattoos would make his nose itch, if the ink left a lingering scent.

He let out a hum, as if answering what Zeki was doing. Zeki continued to embroider with enchanted ease.

“Theo, what did the chief mean when he said you needed to be reminded about caution?” Zeki’s question caught Theo in the middle of a confusing fantasy about his tattoos. He glanced down, but Zeki kept his eyes on his work.

“Nothing,” Theo tried to lie, and then trembled for the brief press of Zeki’s hand over his heart. Theo turned away to stare at the TV; he’d forgotten it was on. It reminded him of the others, who would chastise him for lying to his mate. “Sometimes… sometimes during a fire, in the moment, I charge ahead instead of waiting.” Zeki tensed, so Theo hurried on with the rest. “I can hear people in trouble, that’s all. It doesn’t mean anything. The chief won’t let me train for more dangerous work until he thinks I won’t unnecessarily risk myself. But I know what caution is.”

He sent a glare in the general direction of his chief, although he couldn’t hear the others giggling or talking in a hush anymore. Maybe they’d stopped eavesdropping.

“The other weres can hear people in trouble too, but they don’t charge ahead.” Zeki stopped to point that out, offering Theo a view of his ear, the side of his neck, his cheek. Theo could see the flutter of his pulse as well as hear his heartbeat and wanted to stroke Zeki’s hair until he was calm again.

“I’m not suicidal,” he insisted instead. He made the statement loud and clear in case the others were still listening. “I’m not. I wasn’t even when… when this began. When it was the worst.” For a few seconds it was difficult to breathe again, like the old weight was pushing him down. He hadn’t wanted to die, but for years he’d found it hard to feel much concern for the day-to-day details that living a full life entailed. Now his emotions were swinging back and forth and the day-to-day details were all that were keeping him from either running away or pressing his mouth desperately to Zeki’s.

“But you don’t think you matter as much as the others?” Zeki turned to study him. There were prick marks on some of his fingertips. Not enough to draw much blood, but enough to show this magic wasn’t as simple as Zeki had made it look. He must have calluses from this or spells like it, and yet the pressure had still left marks on his fingertips.

Theo didn’t want Zeki to bleed for him. He shook his head. “I don’t think anything, when I do it. There’s just silence.” Hearing himself was unpleasant. He was briefly cold for his own words, the truth in them. “I live with a lot of silence.” It seemed like a terrible thing to tell someone else. Theo tried to make it less harsh. “And
Golden Girls
marathons. I watch a lot of those.” He couldn’t tell if he’d succeeded in putting Zeki at ease or not.

Zeki returned to his embroidery. He spoke in the same rhythm that he sewed. “No one talked to me in high school. No one. Maybe they would have if I’d been less of a know-it-all, or less defensive. Less magic, who knows? My high school years were the most lonely I had ever been in my life. I had my dad. I had some teachers who didn’t find me too annoying. Some business owners who didn’t mind me always sitting by myself and pretending I didn’t care. But no one else, Theo. At college, people talked to me, but I guess by then I’d gotten used to the quiet. I made friends but not very many. I went out, but not much. Mostly I studied by myself. I know that isn’t what you felt—are feeling, but I’m sorry you ever felt loneliness like that.”

“I try not to feel anything.” Theo couldn’t lie to him if he wanted to. Zeki’s hair looked so soft, his throat so inviting. Theo imagined burying his face in the hollow of Zeki’s throat and listening to him talk. Words held so much power. Zeki already had power over him, but Theo wasn’t as frightened of that as he should have been. “It hurt, you see.”

Zeki turned his face up to study him, and he was so pretty. “Everything in me wants to make that better. That’s what I do. But I can’t help you there. I’m too biased.” Theo must have looked confused because Zeki sat up until his eyes were level with Theo’s. Then he leaned in. “I’m kind of invested in you wanting to feel things again, Theo. But I can’t make you.”

He resumed his work while Theo frowned down at him. Zeki wasn’t calm either, but he was better at faking it than Theo was.

After a while Zeki pulled the needle up sharply and bit the thread to break it. He smoothed one hand over Theo’s leg, pushing down as he leaned in, and then his breath was warm against Theo’s chest. Theo could feel everything as Zeki whispered a few words over the white thread he’d sewn into the strap.

Theo shivered helplessly. “Is that it?”

“Oh, this is just one.” Zeki did not sound innocent. He seemed tired but proud. He petted the symbol Theo couldn’t fully see and wouldn’t understand, and then stared at it, satisfaction all over his face. “I should cover you in these.”

Theo’s hungry growl surprised them both. He put his hands to his cheeks in embarrassment.

Zeki sat up with a sleepy, sated expression on his face. “I mean, cover your suspenders,” he corrected himself, the lie in how long it took him to speak.

Theo was almost dizzy at the thought of himself wearing Zeki’s magic. It would have been the same as a mark. If Zeki had said yes back in the high school, he would have claimed Theo in some way, if not with his teeth. Magic was his language. Magic would have been his medium. Theo could have claimed in return. He didn’t want to leave a bite mark in Zeki’s skin or cause pain. But there were other ways, unique to every couple.

His gaze went to Zeki’s hands as Zeki wound up the leftover thread and tucked away the needle. But he looked up before he packed the kit away again, catching Theo as he watched him.

“You like my tattoos?” He held up his arm and pushed up his sleeve, offering his wrist. The magic must have worn Zeki out; he let his eyes half close, and his words were slow.

Theo didn’t feel the effects of the magic Zeki had done. Instead Zeki was the one who seemed entranced when Theo curled one hand gently around his wrist and tugged him in. Theo almost couldn’t breathe for a moment at the chance to touch him. He made sure he was careful as he used his other hand to trace over the swirls and dots of the writing along Zeki’s forearm. Writing in what looked like two or more languages wrapped his arm like vines. Zeki had dark hair on the back of his hand and along his arm. Near the softer skin of his elbow were thick letters of initials or an acronym. Theo trailed a finger over each of them and Zeki tipped his head back and closed his eyes.

“Roots.” Zeki’s voice held a strange note. His pulse was fast, as was his breathing, which he kept trying to control and which sped up every time Theo followed the lines of writing in his skin. “They’re my roots. The languages of my parents. I was very alone back East, and when I got the first one, to know the pain, to ground myself, I felt… better. Alone but alive. I wanted more.” Zeki quirked his lips. “I love my work. I love studying. But I needed something else.”

“How far do they go?” Theo was too hot to blush anymore, even at his rudeness. “I know that’s none of my business.” He drew along the script that curled around to Zeki’s outer arm, studying the lines and slashes and dots. They were mesmerizing. Zeki had left home only to cover himself with his roots. “So many marks.”