Howl At The Moon: MM Shifter Romance

by Primrose, Ella

  “I was only making conversation.”

  “Stop saying that!”

  “It’s true.”

  “You’re such a liar! If you wanted to make conversation, you could’ve talked about the weather. Or books or something.” Tyrone snorted, Fabian glared. “You didn’t have to tell him about Dan.”

  “Ah,” Tyrone said cryptically.

  “It’s none of your business.” He insisted, having more or less cornered Tyrone now, between the bed and the wall. “You don’t have the right to interfere.”

  Tyrone didn’t say anything, opting instead to let Fabian continue his tirade.

  “And besides, I haven’t done anything wrong. So what if I have friends? So what if I like to hang out with Dan? I’m allowed to, aren’t I? And…and…I’m allowed to hang out with Simon too. People are allowed to like me. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “Of course not.”

  “I can spend time with whoever I want to.”

  “Of course you can.”

  “And there’s no reason to feel guilty about it.”

  “You're right. There's no reason to feel guilty at all.”

  “It’s not like I’m leading anyone on or—”

  A-ha. There it was. Right there in the open, words hanging in the air between them as if they were tangible, floating things. Fabian immediately regretted speaking them, wished he could fumble for those words and take them back, not because they weren’t true, but because it was embarrassing.

  Somehow, that bastard Tyrone had tricked him into calling himself out. How did he even do it? Fabian looked to Tyrone, looking so mild and unassuming and so damn smug. It made him so angry, to fall into a trap so easily. “I’m not leading anyone on.” He said it again, hoping it sounded believable this time.

  “Which is why there’s no problem with talking about Dan. He’s a good friend of yours, Fabian. It’s only natural that Simon should want to get to know him.” Tyrone went back to arranging his suitcase.

  With a sudden burst of fury, Fabian slammed the top down onto Tyrone’s hands. Since it was a soft case though, it was more for dramatic effect than anything else. Tyrone only looked annoyed in response.

  “He didn’t even know about Dan until you told him!”

  “You’re right. He didn’t.”

  “He doesn’t need to know about him.”

  “Why not? Isn’t Daniel important to you?”

  “Obviously. He's my best friend.”

  “So why doesn’t Simon even know he exists?”

  “Because…” Fabian shut his mouth, guilt hitting him like a freighter. No, Simon didn’t know about Dan. But it wasn’t as if he was hiding anything. He had nothing to hide, nothing at all. Dan was his friend, nothing more. Sure, they spent an extraordinary amount of time together, always laughing and smiling. There was no need for pretension, no need to impress him. When he was with Dan, he felt like he could relax, be himself. It didn’t mean anything was going on between them though. It didn’t mean he was interested in Dan in a romantic sense. It just meant they were friends. Very good friends who texted each other a lot. Very good friends who joined each other for dinner three or four nights a week. Maybe once he’d had a fleeting thought. Maybe twice he’d considered it. But he’d never pursued anything. Nothing serious, at least. A drunken kiss which meant nothing, an embrace or two which went on too long, but that was all. He didn't do it with anyone else. It was why they were best friends. There was nothing untoward about any of it.

  But then why did he feel like he’d done something wrong? He’d always been infatuated with Simon, always. From the moment they’d met, they’d teased and flirted with each other. Fabian had always let Simon take the lead, let him take charge of their flirtation, but he’d enjoyed every moment of it. He adored Simon, simply adored him, and he basked in his attention, flourished in it like a flower in the sunshine.

  Simon was the sun in Fabian’s universe and Fabian was…well, he could be a minor planetoid for all he cared so long as he could enjoy the heat and light radiating from him. Anyone could see how they fed off each other’s energy. Anyone with eyes, at least. When he was around Simon, the rest of the world fell away. Nothing else mattered, no one else even registered. He liked this feeling, as if they were the only two people in the whole universe. It sometimes felt like an addiction, as if Simon was his drug.

  Fabian stood there stupidly for a few seconds before Tyrone carefully pushed past him to walk to the other side of the room. “Has it ever occurred to you that you’re leading him on?” Tyrone asked.

  Fabian blinked, stunned for a moment. “Huh?”

  Tyrone snorted, catching his reflection in the mirror. He paused to fix his hair, which already looked perfect. “You really don’t have a clue.”

  Fabian furrowed his brows. “What are you talking about?”

  “You don’t think you’re leading him on.”

  “Who?”

  Tyrone clicked his tongue. “The fact that you’re asking me who is rather telling, Fabian.” Fabian sputtered, gasping for something to say and coming up short. “You ought to resolve a few things, otherwise someone’s going to get hurt.”

  Someone like Tyrone, Fabian thought. He was seeing red, blindsided really. But when he took a second to pause, to breathe, to think it all over, the truth was ready to sucker punch him. Had he been leading Daniel on all this time? Was it even possible?

  It wasn’t his fault if Daniel was now under the wrong impression…not that he didn’t find him attractive and wouldn’t possibly pursue something serious with him, if not for the existence of Simon in the universe. Once or twice he’d amusedly thought of Daniel as his ‘Plan B’, in case things didn’t work out between him and Simon. Now, being called out on it, he realized he was being pretty unfair. You can’t treat your back-up plan as if they’re your one and only, otherwise they might come to believe it.

  All of the realization and internal horror was written plainly on Fabian’s face. Tyrone caught a glimpse of it in the mirror and he turned around to face him again. “Dan is my friend too, you know.”

  “I know he is.”

  “And I don’t want to see him hurt.”

  “I know, Tyrone.”

  “I know how you are with Simon. I’ve watched you two for years. You’re a different person when you’re with him.”

  Fabian frowned, only then realizing that he was gnawing on his lip. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, that when you’re with him, you seem to forget about the rest of us.”

  Fabian noted something distant, something almost regretful in Tyrone’s voice. It had him on edge all over again. “But I don’t. I don’t forget my friends. I don’t forget the people who matter to me.”

  Tyrone turned back to the mirror, not admiring himself so much as just staring into the glass. “Does Dan know about Simon?”

  “Yes. I tell him everything.” He answered without hesitation, because it was true. He told Daniel everything, anything, whatever silly thoughts entered his head, anything he wanted to say he could say.

  “Does he mind?”

  Fabian looked to Tyrone, eyes wide. “What?”

  “Does he mind about you telling him everything? Does he mind hearing all the details?”

  Fabian didn’t know what to say to that.

  “I’ll tell you the answer. He minds, Fabian. He minds a lot.”

  “How do you—”

  “Never mind how I know,” Tyrone said, waving a hand. In an instant, Fabian knew the answer: Damien. Well, that settled it. He was never speaking to him about anything personal ever again. “I’m going out with Adrian. You coming?”

  Fabian shook his head, still too stupefied to properly respond.

  “Right then,” Tyrone gave a quick smile as he headed to the door. “Enjoy your night, Fabian. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

  As the door shut behind Tyrone, Fabian felt something buzzing in his pocket. He pulled out his phone and looked at the n
ewly received message; 3 three new messages from Simon: we need to talk. Meet me at the pool midnight. Don’t fucking tell Ty.

  Fabian stared at the screen for a moment, unsure what to say at first before typing back a quick ‘OK’ and pocketing his phone. He wasn’t looking forward to explaining everything to Simon, but truth be told, he was glad he had a few hours to spare. That would maybe give him enough time to try to explain everything to himself first.

  Chapter 20

  Good News

  “I think I should go talk to him.” Cassius’s words caught Adrian off guard, echoing around the tiled walls of the bathroom and off the plastic of the transparent door. He wiped some of the water off from the door with his fist and peered out at Cassius, who was trying his best to fix his hair despite the mirror being entirely fogged up.

  “What?” Adrian asked, voice muffled by the running water. “I can’t really hear you.”

  “Yeah, I should definitely go talk to him.”

  “Are you talking to me?”

  Cassius only then seemed to realize that he was speaking out loud, and he turned to look at Adrian. He shrugged and gave him a small smile. “I’m just thinking to myself.”

  Adrian made a sort of affirmative sound and stepped back under the spray to rinse his soapy body. “Go on,” he called. “And enunciate, please.”

  “I was just thinking, Adrian. Maybe I should go and talk to Sam.” Adrian very pointedly did not say a thing. “I’m worried about him. He seemed really upset after what happened.”

  “Yeah, well that’s not hardly surprising, Cass. Drew scared the hell out of us all.” That was an understatement on Adrian’s part. In the ensuing turmoil, he’d been convinced he’d somehow spontaneously developed superpowers and accidentally murdered Drew with his thoughts. It was a terrifying five seconds in his own head, to be sure. He had quickly sorted himself out, but he’d panicked and he’d felt guilty over the whole episode until the medics rushed in; as if maybe, he’d done something wrong by not catching him. Although he knew it wasn’t his fault, but there was still that moment in his head, the fear of not knowing. Adrian didn’t do well with feelings like those.

  “And now he’s rooming with Carson.” Cassius said, giving up on his hair. He leaned against the counter, chin rested on his palm.

  “Carson is a nice guy. Carson will look after him.” Adrian replied.

  “Carson hardly knows him. I’m his friend, I should be with him.”

  “Why don’t you go check on him, then?” Adrian asked, working his shampoo into a lather. “You two can come with me and Tyrone. He spotted a nice restaurant right around the corner and we’re going to try it.”

  Cassius quirked his head, eyeing Adrian’s barely obscured silhouette through the plastic door. “I don’t want to intrude.”

  “Don’t be stupid. You wouldn’t be intruding. Besides, I see Tyrone every day. I barely ever get to see you.”

  Cassius was silent a moment, then he let out a sharp, mirthful laugh. “Aw, Adrian! Is this your way of saying you’ve missed me?”

  “Shut up.”

  He cackled, “Aw, lover, I’ve missed you too!”

  Adrian sighed. “Are you coming to dinner or not?”

  “I’ll go ask Drew,” Cassius answered. “He might not come, but I’ll be there.”

  “Good. I want you there.” Adrian’s words became muffled as he stepped back into the water to rinse his hair.

  “Yes, dear,” Cassius took the moment of distraction to hurriedly scrawl something on the wetted mirror with his finger. As soon as he was finished, he called out over the noise of the water, “I’ll text you in a few.”

  * * *

  Garry was still mad at Carson. He felt personally slighted, maybe even a little bit betrayed, and on top of that, he now had to share his personal space with Simon. It was a nightmare, a complete and utter nightmare. In anticipation of Simon’s arrival, he hurriedly secured all of his valuables and tidied up the room, making sure his half of the hotel room was just the way he liked it before the other man invaded.

  Midway through, Carson had breezed in, presumably to retrieve his belongings so he could migrate to Sam’s room. “Hey,” Carson said, grumbling a little.

  Garry looked up at him and frowned. “Why are you so unhappy? It was your idea to swap rooms, don’t you remember?”

  “It’s not that,” Carson sighed, shoving his clothes haphazardly into his bag. He paused, biting his lip in concentration. He wanted to talk about his anxiety (and also his excitement) over his impending breakfast date with Ian (and Sam) but he didn’t want Garry to become even more upset with him. “It’s nothing.”

  Garry sighed, “Don’t give me that. It’s obvious something’s bugging you. I mean look at you, Carson. You’re hardly even fidgeting.”

  It was true, he was perfectly still. Carson looked at Garry, hope in his wide eyes. He looked especially childlike, just in that moment, as he tried to endear himself to his dearest friend. “I’m just thinking about Ian and—”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Carson!” Garry groaned, dragging both hands down his cheeks. “That’s it, you’ve officially lost it and I am officially mad at you.”

  “Garry…”

  “No, Carson. This is stupid. You’re being stupid. And you know what? I don’t care. Go chase after your stupid Ian all you want. I don’t want to hear another word about it. All I want to do is play football. So, go have fun, do whatever the hell you like. Just don’t fuck up this championship for us, Carson.” Garry’s words had far more venom than he’d intended, and Carson stared back at him as if he’d just been slapped. Instantly he wanted to recant, but he couldn’t form the words, couldn’t come up with anything to say which might fix it.

  And Carson was stunned, hurt, and it took him a moment to respond. His jaw set, dark eyes growing cold and narrowing after a few haunted blinks. Gone was that innocent wide-eyed kid. In his place stood a man, or something equally dangerous.

  “All right,” Carson said, nodding firmly. “That’s fine.” He spoke with finality, moving quickly to finish packing. He shoved all of his other possessions into his bag, no care being given to any of it. He didn’t even bother zipping it all the way closed as he hefted it over his shoulder and stomped toward the door. “Have fun with Simon, Garry.”

  And with that, Carson was gone, leaving Garry feeling like he’d just torpedoed his relationship with his best friend, possibly forever.

  * * *

  Sam had a pretty decent poker face, generally speaking, so his inner turmoil wasn’t exactly particularly noticeable to the outside world, but internally he was screaming. He was a wreck, mind racing through a thousand and one different possible outcomes for the situation, coming up with a thousands more reasons why Drew hadn’t texted him yet. He wanted to go to the hospital himself, demand entrance, cause a scene, anything to ease his mind just a little. But he was too smart and not impulsive enough to do something like that. So he sat in his hotel room—their hotel room, and he waited.

  Carson would be arriving soon anyways, and he’d be a good distraction if nothing else. At least he’d serve as a sort of deterrent, to keep Sam from compulsively checking his phone every fifteen seconds for an incoming text message.

  He was just glancing at his phone for the seventy-fifth time when there was a knock at the door. Hurriedly, he went to open it, assuming he’d see Carson on the other side. He didn’t though.

  “Sam,” Cassius said, stepping into the room, letting the door shut behind him. He looked especially sympathetic. It tugged at Sam’s heart.

  “Hey,” Sam tried to smile. “I wasn’t expecting you. What’s up?”

  Cassius didn’t say anything first. He just tucked his arms around his friend and gave him a hug and then gently kissed the top of his head. Sam stood there frozen, body tense as Cassius enveloped him. But then he relaxed, exhaled, and leaned into Cassius’s embrace. “He’s going to be okay.”

  “Oh, Cass.”

  He d
idn’t like the worried lilt in Sam’s voice, didn’t like the stuttering way he drew in his breath. He didn’t think Sam would cry, but something had snapped inside him. Cassius drew back then, setting both of his hands on Sam’s shoulders. “He’s going to be fine. I swear to god, Sammy.” There was no mistaking the smile in his voice, and Sam smiled because of it, in spite of his inner anguish.

  Sam looked down, clenching his jaw. “I just love him.”

  “You must realize you sound like a teenager.” Cassius smirked.

  “Shut up.” Sam protested half-heartedly.

  Cassius reached over to ruffle Sam’s hair fondly. “He’ll text you back. I know he will. You just have to be patient.”

  “I know. But I’m so worried.”

  Cassius raised his eyebrows imploringly, urging Sam to look him in the eyes. “Come on, Sam. We both know it’s going to take more than a botched trust fall to keep him down. The man is like a rubber band. He always snaps back into place.”

  Sam blinked a few times, then a slow, lopsided grin spread across his face. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate the analogy.”

  “I’ve always been incredibly poetic. You should know this by now.”

  “How could I forget?”

  Cassius beamed. “Okay, but listen. I’m going to grab something to eat with Adrian and Tyrone. You’re invited. You should come with us.”

  As Sam opened his mouth to answer, his phone vibrated and chirped from inside his pocket. He leapt about a foot into the air as he fumbled with it. “It’s Drew!”

  “What’s he saying?” Cassius asked, craning to see the screen.

  Sam frowned. “It’s just a smiley face…”

  Cassius frowned too.

  Then Sam’s phone began to buzz repeatedly, signaling that a rapid train of messages was incoming. Slowly, Sam’s face changed again. “Can I take a rain check on dinner, Cass?”

  “Of course you can. Don’t be silly. Talk to your man.” Sam rolled his eyes at him. Cassius shrugged. “If you need anything, just howl.”

  He gave Sam’s shoulder a quick squeeze and pulled the door shut as Sam retreated back into the hotel room. Good news, Drew was functional enough to send text messages. Bad news? He was still at the hospital.