by Z. Allora
Caught staring, an enchanting blush tinted Erick’s cheeks pink. “Sorry. I enjoy watching you… um, work.”
Um, nope, I’m not imagining the scrutiny or the interest. Cassidy turned the oven on to preheat it and then spun toward the freezer and dug out a box. “How about some pretzel bites?”
Erick clapped. “Yes. I love those. And they have the cheese right in them.”
The enthusiasm for everything fueled something in Cassidy. He wanted to bottle this moment so he could feel and experience the world around him through Erick’s eyes. That’s crazy! He dropped the box.
Rushing, Erick grabbed the box along with him. They stood in the tiny kitchen holding a box of processed nonsense between them. In that moment, Cassidy didn’t care if his dick never worked again just as long as he could have more of Erick. Although having his dick in working order and Erick would be ideal.
No! What was he thinking? Nothing, because Erick smelled incredible, like roses on a warm summer’s night.
Cassidy grabbed the box and hurried to the cabinet. He pulled out one tray and practically tossed it like a metal Frisbee toward the floor.
Erick caught the tray and handed it back. “You okay?”
“Of course,” Cassidy said without inhaling the insane scent surrounding Erick.
He set the timer and dumped the bites onto the tray.
“Here. So they cook evenly.” Erick arranged them so the bites weren’t touching and put them in the oven.
Cassidy brushed past Erick and fumbled with the TV remote until he cued Stranger Things. “Make yourself comfortable.”
“I’m going to use the bathroom.” Erick hurried out of the room.
Cassidy plugged his cell in the charger station, and when he turned around, Erick had returned and sat on the sofa with the throw pulled around him. He held the blanket out, inviting Cassidy to sit close to him.
“Oh, um, I’m going to use the bathroom too.” After escaping behind a locked door, Cassidy paced. Scowling at the judgy reflection in the mirror, he went to the toilet and then took his time washing. Granted, this was a high school move but… okay. He could handle this. They were only going to watch a TV show.
Ding!
Cassidy hurried into the kitchen, placed the pretzels on a plate, grabbed napkins, and returned to the sofa.
Erick grinned and lifted the blanket again.
Screw it! There was no choice. Not to sit next to Erick would be an insult.
Everything in him danced with the thrill of being pressed against Erick. The simple joy of a warm body leaning against him gave him way too many wants and needs, but to hell with not enjoying every moment he had with Erick next to him.
Though he was starved for touch, Cassidy’s heart hollered not just anyone’s caress would do. He wanted Erick’s hands on him, Erick’s body against his…. Argh! What was the point of tormenting himself?
Erick glanced through his lashes at him. Cassidy swallowed hard. Damn, what kind of fucked-up shit had he done in a past life to be tortured so cruelly? Erick smiled, making Cassidy’s heart sing with a completeness he’d never known.
“Pretzel bite?” Cassidy’s voice squeaked as he held out the plate.
Erick bit into one. “Mmmm, these are delicious. Mmmm, so good.”
TV! He focused on the TV and tried to think of something to say. “Winona Ryder is as beautiful now as when she starred in all those movies in the ’80s.”
Erick stared at him. “She is.”
Why can’t I shut my damned mouth? Cassidy pressed his lips together.
“This show is set in the ’80s, right?” Erick popped another pretzel piece into his mouth.
“Yeah.” Just like me. What a dumb choice. All it served to do was remind Cassidy how old he felt and how inappropriate he was for Erick.
“Good. I want to understand you better.” Erick curled closer to him, then jumped closer still during the scary parts.
Maybe this show wasn’t a bad choice. “Let me go get us some sodas.”
Somewhere in Season 2, after the pretzel bites, pizza, two more shakes, and way too many jelly beans….
The sun had set. Cassidy should really get his ass to the club.
“Oh my God! This is sick!” Erick shouted at the TV while he clutched Cassidy closer. “I can’t watch. They didn’t— Get out of there!”
Maybe he could wait a little longer. The club would be there. Tonight wasn’t a theme night, so he didn’t have to get dressed up or anything.
Cassidy dug into his tray of gourmet jelly beans Jasper and his mate had gotten him for his birthday. “Here, try another. This one is bacon flavored.”
Erick scrunched his face but popped the candy into his mouth. His expression of disgust lessened as he grabbed a sip from his second milkshake. “Ew.”
“You’ll enjoy this one.” Cassidy dropped another into Erick’s palm.
“Mmmm, I love orange, it’s my favorite,” Erick said between chews. “I guess I’ll put anything in my mouth you ask me to… I mean….”
Cassidy snorted and shook his head. He scavenged all Erick’s favorites from the bag. “Here’s all the orange and lemon ones.”
“Thanks.” Erick fixed his gaze on the TV. Halfway through the episode, he clutched Cassidy for safety.
Heaven became a place on earth. Snuggling Erick close, Cassidy greedily drank in the stolen connection. Though all this shared sweetness made the reality of sucking some stranger’s dick for the off chance they were Cassidy’s mate even more horrifying.
Cassidy had been dozing off when Erick purred, “Aw, that’s so sweet.”
Damn, the last episode started. He should head to the club. He could blow— “Hey, if you want, they have Beyond Stranger Things. I haven’t watched the show yet, but Jasper said the kids were a riot when they realized what the writers were trying to do with certain scenes. There’s also some good insider info.”
“Sounds great.” Erick twisted his mouth and then pressed his lips together. “But it’s late. I can’t be a pest again, forcing you into yet another unexpected slumber party.”
“It’s perfectly fine. I love… your company.” Shit. That cut too close to the truth.
Erick studied him for a moment and then said, “Okay, because I really would choose to stay. Let me turn on my phone and text Cutter.”
“Sounds good.” Cassidy cleared their plates and the trash, used the restroom, and cued the program. He’d go to the club after Erick went to sleep.
When Erick came back from the bathroom, he didn’t hesitate to snuggle back against Cassidy. He shifted left and right until he found the perfect place on the crook of Cassidy’s shoulder.
Cassidy embraced him, savoring the tiny whimper of pleasure that escaped Erick with his “Thanks for letting me stay.”
“Anytime.” Anytime. Anything. Everything. Stop! Grip needs to be gotten!
Removing the tray that usually served as a coffee table and pulling the ottoman against the sofa made a full-sized bed.
Their TV marathon ended, and Erick snored softly, probably in a sugar-crash free fall from their final salty-but-sweet treat of chocolate-covered potato chips.
Cassidy tucked him in the blanket and tried to find the motivation to get dressed for the club. Late for a weeknight, but there would always be some guy wanting his dick sucked.
Erick reached for Cassidy.
Fuck. Cassidy wasn’t going anywhere. He’d figure out something in the morning. He slipped under the blanket without waking Erick.
Even in his sleep, Erick wrapped him in an embrace, and when his head found the place on Cassidy’s shoulder he had started to consider Erick’s spot, Erick purred.
Cassidy let a drugged-like sleep pull him under as he melted into everything Erick. He inhaled deeply. So incredibly good, nothing else mattered.
7
Wicked Storm
Warm, safe, and secure in Cassidy’s arms, Erick didn’t want to move. His cock throbbed against Cassidy’s thigh, lett
ing him know his body disagreed, because friction was all about movement.
Cassidy rolled toward Erick and cracked open an eye. “I—”
“I’m sorry.” Erick shifted away.
“’S okay.” Cassidy’s mumble screamed Not okay.
“Are you sick?” Worry chased away any perky thoughts.
“No. Cell.” Cassidy’s voice barely reached above a whisper.
Erick jumped out of their makeshift bed and darted around the living room. He vaguely remembered seeing Cassidy’s phone in the charging station by the TV before they started their Stranger Things marathon. Ah, there it is.
“I got— Are you sick?” Erick rushed to help the struggling Cassidy sit upright against the pillows.
Cassidy gave a feeble headshake. “Need the—”
“What?” Erick’s panic rose, but he crushed it. “What can I do to help you? Should I call that doctor or 9-1-1?”
“Call Doc. Ask… for… essence.” After he fought for each word, Cassidy closed his eyes.
Holy hell! Erick froze. Was Cassidy still breathing? Yes.
He controlled his trembling hands enough to scroll through Cassidy’s phone until he found the doctor’s contact information. Pacing a distance away from the sofa, Erick called, still keeping his gaze on Cassidy.
“Hello, Cassidy. Did you have another bad dream?” a bright, chipper voice answered.
“Um, not Cassidy. This is Ethan’s brother, Erick.”
“Oh, Erick. Yes. Hello. What can I do for you?”
Erick forced himself to get right to the point. “Cassidy’s too exhausted to call but wanted me to ask for… essence?”
“Really? I’ll send my nurse right over. Didn’t….” The pause hung between them until the doctor filled in the words. “Didn’t Cassidy go to the club last night?”
Weird question. “No, we, um, hung out and watched Stranger Things.”
The doctor hmmed and finally said, “Very good. Anything else I need to know?”
“Is he sick, Doctor?”
“No. He’ll be fine. The nurse will be right there.”
Relief washed over him. “Thank you, Dr. Mayer.”
Erick tiptoed to the bed.
Cassidy whispered, “’Mere.”
Pulling at his borrowed T-shirt, Erick slid back onto the sofa.
Cassidy didn’t open his eyes, though he cuddled into him with a soft moan.
Erick’s heartbeat synchronized with Cassidy’s. The weird rightness that built could no longer be denied. They hadn’t spent much time together, but they fit.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Unwinding himself from Cassidy, Erick darted to the door.
He opened it to a man who had every trait his father expected Erick and Ethan to have, staring at him. No wonder Erick failed. This guy didn’t have to try, and yet “alpha male” screamed from his pores.
Mr. Alpha gave him a megawatt smile that would charm the pants off anyone. “Hi, you must be Erick. I see the resemblance to Storm.”
“Are you the nurse?” He couldn’t keep the disbelief out of his voice.
“Yes, I’m Robert. Pleased to meet you.” Robert switched the two vials he held in order to shake Erick’s hand.
Erick stepped aside from the doorway, admitting him. “Cassidy hasn’t moved much. Is he going to be all right?”
“Of course.” Robert breezed past him. “Hey, Cass. I’ve got what you need.”
Cassidy opened his mouth, allowing Robert to tip the vial contents into his mouth.
Erick looked away, trying to bury unfamiliar jealousy and the overwhelming need to provide for Cassidy.
“The doctor thought since your body is used to more than average, we’d try two vials.”
Immediately Cassidy sat without assistance and grinned at Erick.
The panic that had been eating at Erick vanished.
Cassidy’s cheeks tinted with a healthy flush, and he swung his legs over the side of the makeshift bed. “Thank you for helping me out.”
Robert shrugged. “I’m surprised he didn’t opt to assist you in the easiest way.”
What way was that? Erick would have done anything.
Cassidy glared at Robert, and that silenced him. He drank the second vial, then stood and stretched.
Erick averted his eyes again but not before appreciating the body he’d been cuddling all night.
“If you need anything else, let me know.” Robert turned toward Erick and said, “Nice meeting you, Erick.”
When the nurse left, Erick asked, “What did he mean? Was there another way I could have helped you?”
Cassidy exhaled hard. “Not really…. Um, if you want to shower and borrow some clothing, my closet is open. Can I make you some egg muffin thingies that have spinach and turkey bacon in them?”
Talk about breakneck avoidance, but if Cassidy didn’t want to talk about how Erick might have helped, he’d play along. “Just none of the bacon jelly beans from last night.”
Cassidy sat at his bistro table, set with plates of egg cupcakes thingies with spinach and turkey bacon, alongside two cups of coffee. He stopped midsip when Erick shuffled out of the bedroom.
“You look…. That black kilt and over-the-knee boots… is, um, a great look on you.”
Erick smoothed the merino wool black sweater. With too many self-esteem problems screaming to the surface he asked, “Really?”
“Totally. You look all kinds of amazing.” Cassidy gestured to the chair opposite him.
Erick slid into the chair and took a bite of the eggy deliciousness. “Mmmm, these are good.”
“They’re easy to make.” Cassidy stared at his plate.
Those words were the last spoken as breakfast evolved into a weird silent dance of sipping, chewing, and not staring at each other. The air between them got so strained, Erick even pretended to read his texts. What had changed between them?
Without the slightest clue on how to stop the awkwardness, Erick said, “I guess I should go face Ethan.”
Cassidy popped out of his seat. “Okay. I’m… I’ll be here all day if you need… um, want… you can stop back and get your stuff, or like hang out, or whenever. There’s another season of Stranger Things if you want to watch it.”
The not looking into Cassidy’s eyes got weird. Silence stretched into awkward.
“Um, thank you.” Erick held out his hand to shake because he didn’t know what else to do. And fucking hell, he needed to touch Cassidy one more time.
As soon as their palms touched, every uneasy feeling fled and was replaced by… what was this? He didn’t name the emotion, but the expression on Cassidy’s face told him the same echoed through his heart.
Erick stood outside Ethan’s door, bracing for another encounter. He glanced at himself in the hallway mirror. Granted, he knew if Ethan couldn’t handle what he wore last time, borrowing a black kilt, over-the-knee boots, and black merino wool sweater would never be accepted.
To hell with this! Erick knocked. His brother needed to explain what was going on.
The guy Uli—something—answered the door. He smiled and ushered Erick inside the apartment. “It’s good to see you again. Just in case with all the drama you don’t remember, I’m Ulrich, but you can call me Uli. That’s Alex, and of course you already know Cutter. Your brother is getting dressed.”
His brother’s mate attempted to be a courteous host. Erick should show him he wasn’t the dick Ethan treated him like. “Cool. Good morning.”
“Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, tea, soda, water…?” Ulrich offered.
The normalcy of this made Erick want to scream, especially now that he’d taken his head out of the sand. His not-dead brother had three mates and was what? A zombie? Instead he said, “Um, water would be great.”
Ulrich rushed to the kitchen, probably happy for something to do.
Erick took the bottle of cold-water Ulrich offered. “Thanks.” He followed Ulrich’s gesture to join the other two mates over by
the sofas.
Ulrich melted in between his mates, and now they were lined up on the sofa by descending height order.
Erick plopped into one of the leather armchairs, which faced the couch. He focused on Cutter because he was the most familiar, although furious barely covered feelings toward him at this moment. “So… zombies?”
Ethan, or rather Storm, or whatever name his fucking-not-dead brother used meandered in. He stumbled when his gaze landed on Erick. A softness in his brother’s smile made Erick believe Ethan might be happy to see him, and then the smile vanished, replaced by an expression of disgust. “What the hell, are you Prince Charles going to the ball or Princess Diane?”
Erick glared at his brother, even though that had been the look he’d been going for. “Cassidy did have that jacket, but I thought the sweater kept the combo casual… more appropriate.”
Ethan opened his mouth, but Alex leaned forward, staring at Ethan. “Storm.”
Deflated, Ethan ducked his head.
“Cut, would you like to answer Erick’s question?” Alex cleared his throat and gestured for Ethan to sit his ass down… which he did.
What magic was this?
Cutter sat straighter. “Yes, Alex. Thank you. What do you know about zombies, Erick? Not sure what Cassidy has told you.”
Erick swallowed hard. Maybe he should have pressed for more details, but yesterday he experienced a sense of peace he hadn’t known existed. It seemed like a terrible idea to wreck the special connection by talking about things he didn’t want to deal with, like zombies, Ethan… or mates.
“So far all I know is Zombism is a protein deficiency. The four of you are zombie mates, and for the last year, my brother and you let me believe you were dead.”
Cut grimaced and shook his head. “We’re so sorry. Neither of us wanted to do this to you, but Beau said that would be safer for you. We had no choice.”
“Whatever.” Hard to keep the “not buying the bullshit” out of his voice. “What don’t I know?”