by JC Holly
Group four, four men all between forty and fifty years of age, and used as enforcers and, when the need arose, police, stepped in next and sat two to a side on the table. Ethan trusted them for the most part, but he knew they also listened to Craig with interest. Given their roles, if Craig decided to mention Ethan’s unwillingness to fight earlier, they would be more likely to side with Craig.
After the fourth group, came the rest, Craig included. The group of five were all new to the pack, and had yet to be assigned any particular role in the group. Four of the group took up the remaining four side chairs, and Craig dropped into the chair at the other end of the table, opposite Ethan.
He glimpsed at the clock. They had to finish the meeting in just under an hour, or he’d have to pay the part-time staff extra. Not that he’d mention such trivialities to his pack. Even joking, Craig would probably try and use it against him in some way at a later date.
Ethan waited for the pack to silence and then stood from his chair and rapped a knuckle on the table.
“Glad to see everybody made it this month. I trust everyone enjoyed their full moons?”
Every head nodded in agreement, though some more vigorously than others. As always, it was clear that the fourth group, the enforcers, had had quite the time. They all shared the same grin.
“Good. If there are no items of interest spouting from then, we’ll move straight on to the usual business.”
Nobody raised a hand in disagreement, so Ethan pushed on into pack business. According to his reports, a few wolves from another pack had been sighted on the outskirts of the city, but hadn’t acted aggressively when approached. The pack advisors suggested that they were possibly looking at meeting for discussions of an alliance, whereas the enforcers immediately jumped to the conclusion that they were looking for a fight. Ethan agreed with his advisors. He’d met members of the other pack in the past, and aggression was almost certainly off the menu.
From there, Ethan moved on to a series of minor announcements, setting times and dates for meetings in both human and wolf form, and then discussing a new work rota for the pack members who worked the bar.
Craig remained silent throughout, only giving his opinion when asked. Right up until Ethan asked if there was any other business.
“One small matter, yes.”
Ethan tried to keep his anger from his face. “Yes, Craig?”
Craig stood from his chair and moved to stand behind it, his fingers gripping the back. “At opening time today, three men entered the bar. One was carrying a baseball bat, and took a swing at our pack leader.”
Every head turned to face Ethan, who shrugged. “One of them had been in the night before. Drank too much. Took exception to the way I knocked him on his ass.” A few sniggered, and Ethan nodded at Craig. “Get to your point.”
“My point is that, when confronted by the aforementioned three men, our leader turned coward.”
The room exploded in noise as the various groups burst into denials and exclamations of shock. No surprise, given Craig’s choice of word. Coward. There was no bigger insult to hurl at a pack leader. A pack hinged on the chain of dominance, and if the wolf at the top was accused of cowardice, it reflected on every member. After all, who would willingly have a coward for a boss?
Craig let the men and women discuss it amongst themselves, a smile on his lips. Smug bastard. Ethan kept his gaze locked on the man, but didn’t make a move to quiet the crowd. That’s what Craig wanted. If he tried, and failed, to quell the pack, it would only help Craig’s case. Still, if nobody said anything, matters could escalate to fights as the groups formed sides.
“Avani,” he muttered under his breath, but his second was already standing from her chair.
“If you wolves don’t show some respect,” she said, not raising her voice above talking volume, “I’m going to start tearing tendons out.”
Every person in the room had heightened hearing, and turned to look at Avani. Every person in the room had also seen her fight. Silence rang out before she was halfway back into her chair.
“Thank you, Avani,” Ethan said, his gaze moving amongst his subordinates. “I’m glad to see at least one person remembers their place.”
Avani sat upright in her chair, her earlier nonchalance replaced with glares about the room.
“Craig, would you like to add anything to your accusation?”
Craig sat again. “Merely explaining what I saw, Ethan.”
“I see.” Ethan scratched at his stubble with a fingernail. “So you saw me act in a cowardly manner?”
“I’m sorry to say I did, yes.”
Murmurs rippled through the men and women again, only to be stilled by a snarl from Avani. Even the enforcers weren’t stupid enough to go against her.
“Tell us exactly what you saw, then,” Ethan continued.
“Very well. The men banged on the door, which you answered, barely avoiding being hit in the face with a bat. The men then barged inside, and instead of facing them in combat, as is typical in such situations of territorial aggression, you talked your way out of the fight.”
No murmurs this time, but more than one meaningful look was cast across the table. Ethan noticed that the advisors were merely smiling. He nodded slowly.
“And you consider this cowardice.”
“I do.”
Ethan placed his hands flat on the table. “How old are you, Craig?”
Craig frowned. “I’m twenty-five.”
“And how many confrontations have you been in, in human form?”
Craig seemed to realise where the questioning was going and didn’t answer.
“I’m sixty-eight, Craig. Fifty of those years spent aware of my nature. I’ve spent more time fighting and killing then you have sleeping.” Several of the enforcers hid sniggers. “Do you really think three humans would stand a chance in a fight? Even all at once?”
“No, Ethan.”
“No, they wouldn’t.” Ethan tapped the table with a knuckle. “Do you know what thugs like those men do when they’re humiliated in a fight? They do one of two things. They bring friends next time, or they bring guns.”
Craig bristled. “And we would stop them.”
“Of course we would. But in the process they would bring unwanted attention to us. Say one of us is shot and taken to the hospital. Say they need a transfusion. What are the doctors going to do when they notice that our blood type is a little...different from most?”
“Well, I—”
“And what if the thugs decided ‘to hell with it,’ and burnt down the bar? More than Avani and I make our living from this place. It’s also the place of several of our ceremonies. You’d risk that for the sake of a few punks?”
Craig didn’t reply.
“I thought not.” Ethan stood. “Meeting over.”
Chapter Eight
Last night’s final thought stayed in the back of Conor’s head all through the night. What if Rob didn’t take him being gay well? What if he really didn’t take well to it?
There were a few hours until he was due, so Conor flopped onto the sofa and flicked on the TV. A film starring one of the Rat Pack was playing. Good enough for background noise while he worried.
Rob had always been a very laid-back guy, but you never knew. What if he was against it, or thought Conor was after him? That would make for a short morning out.
“If it comes to that, I’ll tell him I’m already seeing someone,” he said. “Put his mind at rest. Someone good-looking. Tall, built...”
Steel-blue eyes, maybe? Conor glanced at the phone on the off chance that it would suddenly spring to life, Ethan on the other end asking him to come over to the bar to finish what they started.
Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll probably never hear from him again.
* * * *
The doorbell rang two hours later, and Conor opened the door to find a very tanned Rob standing on the step. Conor opened his mouth the comment on it when Tommy barged past him and pr
actically leapt into Rob’s arms.
“Tommy!” Rob caught the dog’s front paws and leant in to get a face full of tongue. “I missed you, too, buddy!”
Between them, they managed to manhandle the dog back inside the house, and Conor closed the door while Rob tried to keep Tommy calm, so as to save the furniture from his whip of a tail.
Conor gestured to the lounge and then disappeared into the kitchen.
“Coffee?” he called, as he flipped on the kettle.
“Sounds good. Two sugars, no milk.”
Conor busied himself with the cups. From the lounge, he could hear Tommy still snuffling at Rob, and occasionally trying to jump up.
“Is he allowed on the couch?” Rob called.
“Not really, but when he’s that excited it’s not worth trying to stop him.”
“That’s okay then.”
Conor poked his head around the door to find Rob sitting on the couch, with Tommy sat beside him, their heads level as Rob wrestled with the dog. Conor went back to the coffee with a smirk.
By the time he sat down opposite Rob, the pair had calmed down. Tommy lay on the couch, his head in Rob’s lap, who was stroking the dog’s head.
“So,” Conor said. “Tell me about India.”
Rob smiled. “Sure. Right after you tell me about coming out.”
Conor’s stomach lurched. “How did—”
“Michelle.”
“Ah, right. She didn’t take it so well.”
“Can you blame her?” He must have noticed Conor’s reaction, as he held up a hand. “Not to the gay thing itself, but to the sudden breakup.”
“Yeah, you’re right. It was a shitty situation.” Conor fiddled with his coffee cup. “Still, I couldn’t keep seeing her after I’d realised. Wouldn’t have been fair on either of us.”
“So you just had an epiphany one night, or what? Clicked on the wrong porn link on your laptop and realised what you’d been missing out on?”
Relief mixed with nervousness, and Conor had to laugh. “Yeah, something like that. I’d always been interested in men, too, really. Just never acted on it. One day, though, something just clicked into place.” He shrugged. “Realised I couldn’t keep on like I was with having a nervous breakdown.”
Rob leant toward the table and picked up his cup, blowing on it to cool the coffee. “So you feel better now it’s all out in the open?”
“Unbelievably better. I know it’s corny, but it really is like a weight off my shoulders. Knowing I’m living how I’m meant to live.”
“Well I’m glad, man.” Rob grinned. “Though that doesn’t mean I want all the gory details.”
“You wouldn’t get ’em anyway.”
Conor settled back further into his chair as Rob moved the conversation to his travels in India. He’d been worried about the meet up all night and all morning, but now that Rob was here, and was obviously not bothered about Conor’s big revelation, he could finally relax. He didn’t even mind when Rob artfully steered the topic back to Conor again.
“So, I know it’s early days, still, but have you met any guys yet?”
“Well, kinda. No. No, not really.”
Rob quirked an eyebrow. “Kinda? Not really? Make up your mind.”
“Okay, so there was this guy last night. We talked, got on okay.” He left out the office excursion. “Gave him my phone number, too.”
“Yeah?” Rob laughed. “What’s it like giving out your number instead of getting theirs for once?”
Conor rolled his eyes. “More nerve-racking.”
“I can see that. Think he’ll call?”
“I hope so. He was a nice guy.”
* * * *
Ethan stared at the phone in his hand, then back at the number Conor had given him.
Normally he wouldn’t call a human back after a one-nighter but he kept finding himself with the phone in his hand, about to dial. It wasn’t that the pack cared if he had some fun. Granted, they much preferred any serious relationships to be between either pack members, or a wolf from another pack, but who said it had to be serious? There was nothing wrong with a little fucking, once he’d broken the guy in, and a little fun.
He rocked back in his office chair. It had acted as his bed all last night, as he’d been too pissed off to drive home. Instead he’d locked himself in his office with a bottle of good Scotch. It had worn off again now—damned supernatural constitution ruined a good buzz—but it had served its purpose in getting him to sleep at least.
He stretched and let out a long sigh. The previous night had started so well. Cute guy, easy pickup, up to the office for some fun. Then it had gone south from the moment he had left.
“Goddamn Craig.”
The man had been well within his rights to voice a concern, but to do it in the way he did was an insult. Of course, if questioned, the man would feign innocence, but Ethan saw through it. Bring up enough issues, and other members begin to have doubts, too. Then came the arguments, the infighting, and then sooner or later, a challenge to his position.
He was dialling the number before he realised he’d decided to call Conor. Stress relief.
“Hello?”
The man sounded uncertain on the phone. Probably because he didn’t know who was calling. Ethan hadn’t given him his number, after all. Could be anyone.
“Is anybody there?”
He let Conor worry for a few seconds more, then spoke. “It’s Ethan. From the bar.”
A short pause. “Oh, hi. How are you?”
“Frankly, I’m horny and looking for someone’s face to fuck.”
A longer pause this time. Long enough for Ethan to worry that he’d been too blunt. Damn it. I shouldn’t take my anger out on other—
“Sounds good. When and where?”
Ethan smiled and sat a little comfier in his chair. “Good boy. How about your place. Unless you’d prefer somewhere else?”
“No, no. Here is fine.”
“Great. How about later today?”
“I have a guest at the moment, but I’m free later on.”
Ethan jotted down the address he was given, and they agreed on three in the afternoon then hung up. He glanced at his watch. Three and a half hours. Enough time to get home and grab a shower and change of clothes.
He pulled up at his apartment twenty minutes later, and was in the shower ten after that. He quickly soaped himself up and washed himself off, leaving his eager cock alone for now. Better to save it for Conor’s mouth. His balls twitched at the thought as he towelled himself off and padded into the bedroom. Jeans, belt, plain blue T-shirt. No underwear. As he headed for the door out, he paused to grab condoms and lube. Just in case.
* * * *
Rob left at one in the afternoon, with the promise to call the next day and arrange another visit later in the week, this time with photos of his travels. Tommy was sad to see him go, but Conor was relieved once the door was closed. As much as he liked the guy, he had an itch that needed scratching, and it wasn’t the kind of scratch a straight guy could help with.
Conor paused by the door. When did he stop considering himself a straight guy? Around about the time Ethan told me he wanted to fuck my face, probably. Just the thought of the phone call had him as hard as the door he leant against. It had been all he could do not to blush when he’d answered the call earlier. Rob had given him quite the look, but hadn’t questioned further. Judging by the knowing grin when he announced he was leaving shortly after, though, the man had an inkling of what was going on.
Tommy knew something was going on, too. He crowded Conor as he headed upstairs to change. As he rifled through he drawers in search of something both casual and attractive, Tommy sat in the doorway, his tail lazily flicking against the frame.
“Any idea what to wear for a casual hookup?” Conor asked.
Tommy chuffed back, just happy to hear his master’s voice, no doubt.
“That’s assuming that’s what this is, anyway.” He pulled out a white pol
o shirt and inspected it for creases. “I mean, that’s what it sounded like on the phone, but who knows, right?”
Another chuff.
“And what the hell do I wear for any occasion, anyway. Do I show off my arms? Nah, that’d be stupid. He’s got arms bigger than my legs.” He pulled out some old slacks he’d stopped wearing for work after too many sniggers. “Showing off my ass makes sense, I guess. Ugh.”
He threw the pants onto the bed and stripped out of his current clothes. There should be a manual. “Gay Style for Dummies.”
The pants looked fine once they were on. Didn’t leave much to the imagination, but judging from the phone call, he wouldn’t be wearing them for that long anyway. He chewed his lip as he pulled on the polo shirt. What if Ethan wanted to go the whole hog? There were condoms in the bathroom cabinet, but no lube. He didn’t use it for jerking off, and Michelle had been strictly missionary with the lights off.
“If I need to, I’ll run to a store, I guess.”
He spent the next couple of hours watching TV and trying not to chew his nails. Bleeding cuticles weren’t exactly sexy. When the doorbell rang, he nearly smashed his shins into the coffee table in his excitement. He reached the door before Tommy for once, who watched from the kitchen instead. Odd, but Conor had more important things on his mind. He checked his hair in the mirror by the front door, mocked himself for doing so, then opened the door.
Ethan nearly filled the doorframe. He was bigger than Conor remembered. Not to a Schwarzenegger level, but certainly big enough to dwarf Conor. He smiled and waved Ethan inside, then closed the door behind him.
“Nice to see you again,” he managed to say after a moment of awkward silence. “So, uh, I’m new to the whole hookup thing. Do we...”
Conor stopped talking as he realised Ethan’s attention was elsewhere. Tommy was standing three feet from the man, staring and growling softly in the back of his throat.