by Flynn Eire
“No, no baking. We need big mixers and hot water,” I giggled, shaking my head. We moved along like goofs playing out Mission Impossible or something. Once we were in the kitchen, it was fun to see both their confused expressions at what was lined up on the metal prep tables.
“The empty fabric softener jugs we recycle?” Aaryn asked, finally saying something on his own instead of acting like the mute tagalong.
Spyros nodded to the jugs, smiling. “You guys don’t buy your fabric softener from the store or normal supply runs, right?”
Kisten shrugged and glanced at me.
“No, we buy them from one of the other crests who can get a good deal if they put in a bulk order…” Aaryn started off strong in his answer, but then his words slowed as things clicked into place. “So it’s your crest. You guys handle our fabric softener supply. But why do you need the old jugs? Recycle them to the company for a discount?”
“Um, no, we reuse them when we make fabric softener and fill the jugs according to the orders. Then we deliver them to the crests, and they’re never the wiser that it’s not the brand name stuff. We match the scents closely with essential oils that’s part of the recipe, and that’s that.” Spyros smiled and headed over to the massive industrial mixer to start pouring out the ingredients.
“But why do this?” Kisten asked me a few moments later when he was helping me open big jugs of vinegar.
“With the money people pay for the name brands on their supply runs, we can make over twice as much the homemade way, and we donate the extra to a women’s shelter in town.” I made sure Spyros was a bit away before I continued. “Spyros’s mom was abused by his dad, like badly abused. When he was ten, she finally made a run for it with him. They went to a human women’s shelter to hide and get back on their feet. She found a different crest to be accepted into after a while and back into our world.”
“And her first crest leader just let that happen?” Kisten asked as we brought the vinegar over and he added what I told him to. We’d done this so many times we knew exactly how many of what containers to add, not simply measuring it out by cups as the original recipe stated.
Spyros had heard that part and gave me a weak smile, understanding that the topic would come up and we weren’t simply gossiping. “He was so mortified that he didn’t know what was going on right under his nose with my father that he allowed us to leave. The crest leader’s a good guy. He even sent me a note when I joined Diego’s crest that if I ever needed help or an out, he would be there for me. He just couldn’t police everyone all the time—and he shouldn’t have to.”
“Very forgiving of you,” Kisten muttered, seeming lost in thought, but then he perked up. “So you donate the extra fabric softener because they need it to do tons of laundry for the shelter?”
“Yes, and sometimes they have drives, like they do in a few weeks for holiday stuff, and they’ll sell it in jars that are cutely decorated, whatever. It’s something they need or can bring in money for them,” I answered, hoping that helped. “What’s the charity you want to start up?”
“Oh, a no-kill shelter for Abyssinian cats since we’re kinda rare and not always treated the best if they’re not purebred because of the price they fetch.”
“I got a guy,” Spyros muttered, pulling out his phone. “We met him at that black tie thing for the museum Diego bought a table for last year. This guy’s totally locked in on animal charities and supports a bunch. Think of him like a broker to get people who want to help to the right program for them and will pull on their heart strings the most.” He tapped out a few things and smiled. “There, I emailed you his info.” He frowned when he looked up at us. “What?”
“It sounds a bit manipulative when you put it the way you did,” I explained, knowing he hadn’t meant it the way he sounded.
“Probably, but he’s not some host at a club trying to swindle people into buying more expensive booze. He’s making matches so people will stick with their charity work and keep helping. He doesn’t guilt or force anyone. It’s well known that people will give more time, energy, and resources to a charity that they feel a tie to.” He raised an eyebrow at Kisten, using him as the case in point since he was trying to help the cat breed he shifted into.
“Fair enough,” Kisten chuckled. “Thanks for the help.”
“No worries.” He glanced over at Aaryn who was working hard to get more and more empty jugs lined up and sorted by scent. “We went through trial and error finding the right place, knowing how to help them in the best way. It’s not easy. Aaryn shouldn’t get down on himself. Though, it would be better to get involved in already set up charities than start a new one given you guys are greenhorns to all of this.”
“Yeah, we were talking about that too, but since Doyle’s getting involved, the charity has to be one hundred percent legit and solid.” Kisten twitched his lips. “I can trust your guy to make sure we pick the right one?”
“Yeah, he spends his free time busting bogus charities. He’s a crusader in a way—at least in my book. You can trust him.”
I smiled as we kept working. It was the right decision to bring them in to help. I not only felt good that we were showing them stuff they’d want to know, but they were hard workers and made the job easier that time. It also seemed as if we were making a good connection for life since Kisten and Aaryn seemed to be a lot like us.
I hoped if nothing else, it let others see the side of Diego we all knew but outsiders didn’t.
“Hey, who’s got the oils?” Foster loudly asked as he stepped out of the kitchen onto the loading dock. I had caught sight of something weird when I was on patrol and came to check it out.
Imagine my surprise at finding an unground charity ring. What an odd thing. But it turned out that my soon-to-be crest didn’t like laying all their cards on the table—something I respected.
“Why am I not surprised you’re at the center of something so good like this,” I muttered. His head snapped down and his cheeks flushed. I held up my hands to him and he nodded, so I grabbed his waist and lifted him down to the black top instead of standing up on the concrete loading dock for trucks to back up to. “Now what are you looking for? I don’t have the full scope of this whole thing.”
“I filled him in on most of it since Diego asked us to help do the heavy lifting,” Bronx told him, and I nodded. I got the fact they were make fabric softener, switching the homemade stuff out for the brand name so all the rich kids would feel comfortable their clothes were extra soft or whatever, and they donated the extras.
“Can I explain later?” Foster asked as he pulled away. “We have a lot of volunteers this time, some from other crests even, and I’d like to make sure no one’s standing around and all are focused so we can all get to bed at a decent hour.” I nodded and let him go, watching the way he approached the crest’s supply van. He stopped and glanced at me over his shoulder. “And you can tell me how you ended up being here right now because I really hope it’s not stalking.”
I threw back my head and laughed. Not only was it an offhanded question, but if the answer was I planned to stalk him… Who asked it like that? Foster was definitely something else.
“That’s easy. My turn to patrol campus since we’re on guard to protect Major now that he’s back.”
“Right, thought it might be something like that.” He smiled and focused on the supplies.
“Hey, they said they were out of hibiscus and gave you extra lotus oil instead,” one of the guys from their crest informed Foster as he handed over a small wood box full of smaller bottles.
“That’s fine. Hibiscus itself doesn’t have a smell, but we match what the company says is in each. If they were out of the white lavender, then we’d be in trouble.” I watched him hurry around and then dart back into the kitchen. I followed after him, curious as to the full extent of what was going on. I had one more lap to give the grounds before the next of my team took over.
Since we were still in school and none of
us could afford to go without sleep for a night, we split the night shift between us evenly, each taking an hour and a half so we covered nine hours.
Once I got an idea of how to interject myself so I could plot an outing for Foster and I, I ducked back outside and found Bronx. “I’ve got one more sweep that I’m heading to, but I wanted to ask how all of this gets delivered for donation?”
Bronx smiled and shook his head. “I’m supposed to go with Foster and Spyros in the morning to handle the delivery. Would you like to take that instead? I can send Spyros to check on something at the pool for me and free you guys up.”
I did a double take and raised an eyebrow. “The pool? Really?”
“Yeah, seems love is in the air everywhere I turn. Might make me vomit soon, but yeah.”
“Or someone will get your cynical ass and then you’ll be apologizing to the rest of us for being such a crank.”
“Doubtful, but maybe. Either way, do you want the job or not? You have to bring back dinner for the team meeting too if you’re going into town.”
“Okay, so that limits it to a day date. Yeah, I got this.”
I walked away smiling as I knew Bronx was. He got out of a long errand on a precious Saturday—which was our free day because Major would be in Brysen’s care at some super-secret place—while I got more justified time with Foster.
It was win-win-win in my book.
By the time I finished my last round and Arlo took over, I returned in time for the dorm deliveries and loading up the van. I slid up behind Foster as he checked the load and leaned over.
“You want to ride the cart while I push?” I breathed in his ear. He shivered but didn’t even bother turning around.
“That might make it hard to see me as the guy in charge if I’m the one misbehaving,” he chuckled and pulled away, but then stopped and glanced at me over his shoulder with a wicked look in his eye. “But I would be open to rewarding someone who joined me on my delivery so I wasn’t walking the halls of this creepy old school in the middle of the night alone.”
Even someone as dense as I could be would have caught onto that meaning. I practically raced over to the cart and started moving it out of the kitchen… Unfortunately, before everything was on there. At least Foster laughed at my excitement. That was always a plus.
We dropped them all off fairly quickly, Foster knowing the routine down and now with my heavy lifting abilities, I could get them from the cart to in front of the correct crest’s dorm entrance in the blink of an eye. When we were done, everyone else had just finished up cleaning the kitchen and loading the rest onto the cart. I walked Foster to his room, and as much as I wanted to collect on his reward, he looked beat.
But I could tell he didn’t want me to go either, “conflicted” written all over his face.
“Hey, I’m kinda beat after my security rounds, and Arlo snores. Do you mind if I crash with you tonight and we can talk tomorrow about my reward?”
The smile that lit up his face made me feel like a god and completely ate away any nerves at coming up with lines as I had. He nodded and let me in. I took off my shirt, socks, and shoes but decided on leaving the jeans on so it was clear I didn’t come there to mess around with him. Foster followed suit, actually wearing pajama bottoms instead of his oversized top he went commando in. Yeah, that was hard not to take as an invitation, so he’d learned to be more careful on that too.
I must have dozed for a bit, not even remembering saying goodnight to Foster. Thrashing on the bed next to me had me awake in an instant.
“No, save me—no more,” Foster whimpered, fighting some imaginary adversary. “Rip big. Gonna bleed to death.” I realized in horror what was going on. He was having a nightmare. A nightmare about what I did.
My heart shattered as the bed became wet. I’d done this. I’d done this to him of all people.
“Foster, baby, wake up. Please wake up,” I rasped, shaking him awake. After a moment, those big eyes stared up at me, and what happened sank in. Then they filled with tears. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please don’t tell anyone,” he sobbed, half curling against me and half pushing me away.
Without another word, I lifted him into my arms, grabbed his towel and shower stuff that he had hanging on the back of his closet door, and carried him to the bathroom. I set him down on the changing bench in the stall and turned on the water, checking the temperature before helping him disrobe and under the warm water. I stepped back, trying not to be a cad who stared at him naked.
But then his hand grabbed me, and I looked back. “Don’t go. Please don’t leave me in here alone.” I couldn’t believe I was the right person to help him, but he also didn’t have a lot of options right then. I stripped off my wet clothes and moved under the water with him. Instantly Foster hugged me, his wet, naked body wreaking all sorts of havoc with mine. “It wasn’t you this time.”
“Huh? You mean the nightmare?”
“Yeah, I wasn’t afraid of you this time. For the first time, I saw everything again but without fear when I experienced it again. It changed a lot in my mind.”
“Foster, you were shouting, totally afraid and—”
“Because of what happened after. It went on for a while, Pierce. That won’t go away anytime soon. And that was scary. I’m glad I could finally see clearer what happened between us.”
“And what does that mean?”
“I’m going to beat you up for tearing my hole and being stupid,” he answered after a moment. “But now I realize you didn’t have the evil looks the others did. My fear and trauma clouded a lot of what happened.” Then he glanced up at me, the water dripping off his long eyelashes getting to me and adding to how every inch of him was sexy right then. “Make us feel good, Pierce.”
“Wait—huh?” I gasped as his hands moved over my abs and pecs. “Now? After what happened?”
“Don’t want to think about that. Want to feel you,” he muttered in between kisses to my chest. “I want new memories with you to erase the old. Though tomorrow you’re going to tell me the truth about only being with me because you’re too good at stuff for that to be true.”
My heart fluttered at his jealous tone. Foster was jealous at the idea of me being with someone else! “No, it’s only been you. I simply studied a lot, learned everything I could about gay sex and erogenous zones and all of it so I never screwed up again.”
“Show me now? I’m not ready for sex, but I want more of last night’s fun.” He glanced away after admitting that, but I understood his meaning. I lifted him up and kept him balanced against the tiles as I hooked his legs over my shoulders. “Wait, wait, you’re not doing that, right? I mean, I messed up the bed and—”
“And you’ve been standing under hot water for a few minutes now,” I chuckled, giving his groin a sniff. “Yup, smells fresh and tasty to me.” Honestly, I would have done it even if he smelled rank. I’d had a hand in all of this. I would do anything to make some progress on him being able to get over it.
“I wasn’t sure this was what I meant,” he moaned as I licked the head of his growing cock. I flinched, never, ever wanting even a hint of a misunderstanding between us again. He must have realized the situation and cleared his throat. “I thought we would give each other hand jobs, not skip to this.”
“I’m sorry. I got over excited again. I just want to comfort you, make you feel good.”
“I said anything but sex, so you’re good. I’m rambling from shock and hormones. I mean, you lifted me up off the ground and have me like this to do that. I mean, that’s hot, Pierce.”
Talk about throwing fuel on my fire and ego. I sucked him down and didn’t stop going full throttle until he shot down my throat. Then I lowered him down on shaky legs and washed us both, my ego boosting even more from the way he couldn’t seem to support his own weight and kept twitching.
I reached past him and turned off the water, leaning over and letting my lips brush his ear. “I
love you, Foster. I always will.”
“Well, after giving me loving like that and spoiling me, if you can cook I might take you as my bride someday,” he joked, his cheeks flushing enough I could see them in the poorly lit bathroom. Foster dried off and glanced at me. “Right, you didn’t grab a towel. I’ll get you one.”
“I’m fine walking wet,” I offered, not wanting him to go back to the room and be hit with what had happened again. I even moved in front of him and led the way back to his room.
“I know what you’re doing, but I have a system on how to handle when I do this, so it’s really okay. I kinda—um, just wait here until I get everything settled. You don’t need to see it again,” he rambled nervously. Then he whipped off his towel once he had the door open and handed it to me, darting inside. A few minutes later he came out with a vinyl laundry bag slung over his shoulder and a different towel wrapped around his waist.
Unfortunately, his head was hung in shame. I couldn’t even begin to deal with that.
But I also didn’t know how to fix it short of wetting the bed too, and that might seem like mocking him. Instead, I hurried to make the bed once I found the extra set of sheets he had in the drawer in the frame. By the time he got back from the laundry room, I finished, found a night shirt for him, and crawled into bed. Of course, I hung up my towel, using it to dry my hair mostly as well.
“Will you wear that for me? I don’t mean to be a selfish cad, but I thought it might be okay to ask for something like this now. If it’s not, ignore me. I’ve always dreamed of you wearing it for me, crawling into the same bed as me, and being able to fall asleep with my hand snuggled under that shirt, knowing I had permission and you desired me to go there.”
Foster slowly nodded his head, hurrying to lock the door, turn off the lights, and a few other things preparing to sleep again. Then he pulled the shirt over his head and dropped his towel. I heard but didn’t see his swallow as he climbed into bed with me.