by Alex Kidwell
Randall was howling, he was sure. His hands were digging into Victor’s back, meeting him thrust for thrust, gasping with every deep slide of Victor inside of him. It was like riding a wave of white heat, of endless sparks against his skin. Randall wasn’t sure where he began or where Victor ended. Their bodies were moving as one, writhing in pleasure, dancing in an endless, gasping reach for something more.
His second orgasm felt even better than the first, crashing through him, making him latch his teeth into Victor’s throat and bite down as he came. Victor continued to move against him, low gasps and stuttered moans leading to a near-incoherent growl of Randall’s name as he reached his own pleasure, trembling above Randall.
Victor slowed, then stopped completely, his muscles still shivering in the aftermath. Randall curled his arms around Victor’s waist as Victor settled on top of him, their breaths coming at the same time, heartbeats pounding.
“I have no words,” Victor managed, tucking his lips into the curve of Randall’s neck.
“Now that is new.” Randall tightened his hold around Victor, rubbing his thumb along the line of Victor’s spine. “I think we should get some kind of award.” All he could think of then was how badly he wanted to look into Victor’s eyes. To see him fully to know if the satisfaction he felt on his own features was mirrored there.
Randall sat up a little, braced on an elbow, and Victor rolled off him to sprawl on his front next to him. Randall frowned as he looked around the room. Victor’s pants were tossed over the edge of the bed, so he reached out, pulling them toward him and rifling through the pockets. Finding Victor’s phone, Randall held it up over him, looking straight into the camera, not changing anything about how he looked—utterly spent, completely satisfied, disheveled and loving every inch of it.
“Your turn,” he murmured, nudging Victor, who lifted his head from the pillow to reveal half of his face. Victor looked into the camera, a mess of red-blond hair and one visible blue eye. Randall took the picture and sprawled out next to him, both of them meeting the camera’s gaze without fear. One of Randall kissing Victor, just because of the look on Randall’s face as Victor pressed his lips to Randall’s throat. All things they couldn’t see themselves, set down into digital imprints.
Settling back beside Victor, head on his shoulder, Randall showed the photographs to him. “You look incredible,” Randall murmured, placing a kiss onto his chest. And he did. There was a lightness in his gaze, an amazing languid power that made Randall’s breath catch. “I could stare at this all day.”
Victor gave an agreeing hum. “Likewise. Next time we should set up a video camera.”
The idea made Randall snort a laugh, dismissive only for a moment. Then he gave Victor a considering look and curled up further around him. He took another picture, this time of him, a close up of his eyes, of lips swollen from Victor’s kisses, a smile curving across his face. “I think that is an excellent plan,” he said, handing Victor his phone. “Maybe I’ll make a video just for you. I have some ideas, now. You can watch it after you leave.”
“Now that is a good idea,” Victor said. His eyes had fallen closed, and he rested his cheek on Randall’s shoulder. Randall had to smile fondly—nonwolves seemed to get so tired after sex, he’d discovered, and it was strangely endearing. Right then Victor looked like he wanted nothing more than to drop off into sleep, so Randall shifted accommodatingly, getting them comfortable.
But before Victor was lost to the world, he seemed determined to do one last thing, even though his movements were sluggish with contentment. Victor smoothed a palm over Randall’s hip, dragging upward to rest fully over the scars scattered across Randall’s collarbone, his hand a warm weight on Randall’s skin.
And it didn’t hurt. Whatever lingering memories of fear and pain and helplessness were, for the moment, washed over with the present. Victor’s touch had branded him far deeper than any vampire could bite. For now, Randall felt no part of himself caught in that hell. His Beatrice truly had led him out into heaven.
The pale light of the moon and stars painted the sky outside the room. The doors of the balcony were open, and Randall could hear the lake lapping lightly against the shore, the soft sigh of the wind through leaves. He was surrounded by everything familiar, by the scent of him and Victor combined, and it was the most at home he’d ever felt. As if all of what he knew home to be had just been magnified and expanded. His pack had gotten bigger, fuller, and it felt like this was exactly as it should be.
Victor was leaving in the morning. Randall shouldn’t be so attached to the idea of falling asleep in his arms. And yet he was.
One more picture, then. Not for Victor. For himself. Victor half-asleep, strawberry-blond hair spread across the pillow in a messy tangle, Randall’s darker head pillowed on his chest. The two of them, tangled together, like nothing on earth could find a way to pull them apart.
RANDALL WAS dragged out of sleep by a knock at the door, a muffled laugh, and Victor groaning, “Jed, for the love of God, go away.”
“I know you stole my lube, you sex fiend.” Jed was battering on his door, head poking around it to grin widely at them both. “Kinky, professor.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” There was a distinct dry tone in Victor’s voice. “Do you want it back?”
“Nope. That was my extra supply. Just want all the dirty little secrets. Come on, breakfast, and we can have the sex talk over pancakes.”
Randall buried his face deeper into the pillow, trying to figure out why all these people were in his bedroom.
Except it wasn’t his bedroom. Bleary, he lifted his head and stared around, hair completely in disarray, totally confused. Very slowly, he woke up enough to remember what had happened. Victor. Victor was in bed with him. They were tangled up together, legs entwined. A smile eased across Randall’s face, and, with a grunt of protest at the whole waking up thing, he dropped a kiss on Victor’s shoulder. “Hey,” he mumbled. “What time is it?”
“I have no idea. Let me look.” Victor was without his glasses, but he attempted to peer at the clock on the bedside table. After a few moments, he said, “I still have no idea.”
Randall decided he didn’t care that much. He pulled Victor in for a kiss instead, winding his arm around Victor and nuzzling in close. “Hey,” he whispered again, more quietly. “Good morning.”
Victor turned into his arms, draping himself over Randall’s side. “Good morning,” he replied, eyes still closed, a smile at the corners of them. “Did you sleep well?”
Surprisingly well, actually. Randall blinked and stretched, biting back a yawn. “For one of the first times since Cairo, I think I did.” He was more than a little shocked. Nuzzling into Victor’s neck, Randall peppered kisses along the softly reddened marks he’d left the night before. “How about you?”
Victor seemed more interested in wrapping his arms around Randall, getting comfortable, like he wanted to go right back to sleep. “Very soundly,” he replied. “Better than I do at home.”
“Well, maybe you should stay longer.” It was more than Randall would have suggested any other time, but he was still aching from the night before in the best possible way, they were all wrapped up and warm in each other, and it was so easy to whisper the words against Victor’s skin. He eased kisses along Victor’s collarbone. “Anthony’s appointment is later today. Just stay over after our dinner tonight.”
Giving a hum of agreement, Victor said, “Excellent idea. Do we need to get up right now?”
Randall really did have to squint at the clock then, attempting to get the numbers in focus. Nine in the morning. “The appointment is at noon,” he yawned, half sprawled out over Victor. “And it’s an hour and a half drive. So we have about a half an hour before we need to get up and start getting ready.”
“Then how about we sleep more?” Victor sounded like he was already halfway there, his cheek resting on Randall’s bicep. “That sounds good.”
“Mmm.” Randall contented himself
with scraping his teeth lightly on the inside of Victor’s arm. “We should sleep.”
They drifted back into that hazy, warm space that lay halfway between wake and sleep. Randall’s fingers slid in with Victor’s, and he curled up closer, letting himself relax. Until, of course, there was a pounding at the door and a very loud, very strident voice calling, “Okay, lovebirds! Ten minutes before I come in and start pulling off covers.”
“Fuck off, Jed,” Victor shouted back. Even half-asleep, Randall was startled at his cursing. Apparently Victor only did it when he didn’t have the brainpower to think of better words.
“Yes, Jed, do go fuck yourself,” Randall agreed with a low growl. “We’re sleeping.”
“Nine minutes!” Jed was apparently not threatened at all. Jed’s fist slammed several more times into the door, jerking Randall out of that pleasant doze. “Redford’s making breakfast. Get your fornicating asses over there.”
Victor muttered something under his breath that even Randall’s ears couldn’t catch, but the mattress shifted a moment later as Victor hauled himself up with a grunt. Randall felt a hand on his shoulder, rubbing gently. “Jed’s probably right,” Victor sighed. “Up we get.”
Rolling over, Randall just studied Victor. The morning light was streaming through the windows, bathing everything in a soft golden glow, lighting Victor up like some ancient god. “You are so beautiful.” Randall reached out, letting his fingers trail along Victor’s arm. “I’ve never seen anyone half as gorgeous as you are.”
Victor smiled down at him and teased, “Well, you do have your glasses off. I’m probably just a big blur to you.”
Randall struggled to sit up, grabbing said glasses again and shoving them on. “Nope,” he declared, tugging Victor back onto the bed with him, kissing his shoulder. “You are simply beautiful.”
“You really are a shameless flatterer,” Victor replied, braced on his hands to lean above Randall. He ducked down to give Randall a kiss, lingering, but sadly not as long as Randall wanted it to be, before Victor got himself out of bed. “Come on, Randall. Don’t tell me I’m somehow more a morning person than you are.”
“I just suddenly have a very good reason for lying around in bed all day,” Randall returned, sticking out his tongue. But he got up to wrap his arms around Victor from behind, nuzzling his nose into the nape of Victor’s neck. Sighing, he bit lightly at the soft skin there. “You need to go take a shower before I decide I really can’t keep my hands to myself.”
“Is that supposed to deter me?” Victor gave a quiet laugh, leaning back against Randall. He smoothed a hand over Randall’s arm, every inch of his body language speaking of content. Burying a smile in his shoulder, Randall couldn’t help saying it.
“I love you,” he whispered. He just said it, hanging it out there like some hopeful prayer. He shouldn’t have said it yet, maybe. He should have waited. But Randall felt strangely impulsive, like he couldn’t bear to keep it inside. The emotion was too big for him to live with it inside his skin.
Victor’s reply was low but utterly without hesitation. “I love you too.”
After a low breath, Randall murmured, “Hold still.” He fumbled and found Victor’s phone, holding it out in front of them, taking a picture so that Victor could see his expression. So that he could see Victor’s. Turning it around, he stared at it, at the pure joy in his expression, at Victor’s sleepy-eyed content.
“I think I might have to start password protecting my phone,” Victor huffed, bemused. “There’s a few interesting pictures on there now.”
“Just for you.” Randall smiled, kissing Victor’s neck, the spot just below his ear, his jaw. “So yes, please put a password on it. I don’t want anyone else to see that.”
Victor turned in his arms, kissing his jaw, then giving Randall a light push against his chest. “Now really, go shower and get dressed,” he said, attempting to be stern. “Otherwise we’ll be late for everything.”
“You’re really staying tonight?” Randall confirmed, catching Victor’s hand.
“Yes,” Victor replied. “Whatever we wind up doing, dinner or a picnic, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Randall leaned in to kiss him one last time. “Okay, okay,” he mumbled. “I’m going. Use the bathroom here. I’ll be over at the main house.”
Reluctantly, Randall got dressed and made his way back to the house. When he walked in the front door, it was to a round of applause. Jed was even standing, whistling at him loudly as Randall rolled his eyes and headed toward his room. “You are all children,” he informed them.
“What?” Anthony grinned at him. He intercepted Randall at the doorway, arms out for a hug. “Does this mean you’re mated now? Is he part of the pack? Can I do some kind of official ceremony just to confuse him?”
Ducking under Anthony’s arms, Randall shot them all a scowl. “Children,” he repeated. “And no. No one is mates. Do not say the M-word to Victor when he comes over here.”
He heard Anthony give an exaggerated sigh as he headed back to the table.
“Why not?” Edwin asked, following Randall into his room as Randall searched for clean clothes. “I mean, you slept with him.”
“Sex does not mean mates, Ed,” Randall told him, arching an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t we have this talk with you?”
“I know that, but you’re kind of old-fashioned.” Edwin sat on the edge of the bed, picking absently at the comforter. “Are you going to get married?”
“Edwin, Jesus.” Turning to face him, Randall fixed him with a look. “Spill. What is this about?”
“Anthony has an appointment today,” Edwin mumbled. “What if it doesn’t help again? Then he’ll get worse and you’ll move in with Victor, and I can’t take care of Ant by myself.” He stared down at his laced fingers, looking, all at once, like he was five years old again. “I’m not good at that stuff like you guys. I don’t want to let him down.”
Putting aside the clothes for the moment, Randall sank to sit down next to Edwin. “I am never going to leave you,” he promised, nudging his shoulder against Edwin’s. “That’s who we are, remember? We’re family.”
Edwin almost laughed, a not-quite-there noise. “Victor’s not a wolf,” he pointed out, sounding miserable. “He won’t want to stay here.”
“Then I won’t be with him.” It was said so simply, as if it wasn’t an instant stab of pain through him. “Ed, come on. You guys are the most important thing in the world to me. I’m not going to leave you alone, and I’ll always be here to help with Anthony. Okay?”
Strangely quiet, Edwin chewed the inside of his cheek, foot wiggling in a nervous jitter. “Do you think Anthony’s going to die?”
Randall wrapped his arm around Edwin’s shoulders. Bright, beautiful Edwin, who lived life so fully and never seemed to get bogged down in the things that other people did. Apparently Randall had failed him too. “How long have you been worried about this?” Randall asked with a frown.
“Since you started hiding the bills and not sleeping.” Edwin glanced over at him, knocking his knee lightly against Randall’s. “I’m not stupid, you know. I can smell what’s going on. And Anthony knows something’s wrong too, only he just goes in his room and frets by himself.”
Feeling a sharp sense of guilt, Randall hung his head. “I’m sorry.”
“You should be,” Edwin said quietly. Stunned, Randall looked over at him to find Edwin staring at him steadily. “You and Anthony both. Nobody’s talking anymore. We used to do everything together, like a pack, but you started keeping secrets when you got back from Egypt, and Anthony pretends he doesn’t hurt, and you both worry about money. Like if you talk about it somehow everyone is going to break down. Well, it’s stupid.”
“Edwin—” Randall started, but Edwin stood up, shaking his head.
“Don’t, okay. Just… start talking. Tell Anthony what’s going on.” Edwin gripped Randall’s shoulder before he turned to leave. “And go shower. You smell like snake.”
Once left alone, Randall found he honestly didn’t know what to do. He’d tried to protect his brothers from the worst parts of what they were dealing with now, only to find out they both knew anyway. So apparently he was the world’s worst liar. He finally dragged himself into the shower, and by the time he walked back out, hair still damp, everyone was gathered around the table. Redford was just bringing in a platter of sausages to join the huge stack of pancakes and bacon.
“So you really drive an hour and a half to get to each appointment?” Victor was asking Anthony.
“It’s not as if there’s any closer hospitals.” Anthony shrugged, looking tired as he curled his hands around his coffee mug to warm them.
“That’s ridiculous.” Victor was frowning, looking at everybody as if he wanted them to agree with him. “You’re all busy, and as the weather gets colder you’ll find it more difficult to drive yourself. Anthony, I’ve offered it before, and I will do so again. Come stay at my house. It’s close to the hospital, and it’s more than big enough to host you.”
Randall caught Anthony’s questioning glance. He didn’t know what to say. His instincts were to say yes, to immediately start packing and move in and never leave. But he was aware that instincts were not a reason to make a decision. This was new. No matter how fantastic the night before was, they were only starting out. “You have three appointments in the next week, right?” he confirmed with Anthony.
Needless to say, Anthony didn’t look thrilled at the prospect. “That’s right.”
The seat next to Victor was empty, and Randall, having fixed his cup of tea, sank into it gratefully. He nudged his knee against Victor’s, a shorthand for checking in with him, rather than reading his expression. “Well, a week is not forever,” he mused. “That might be nice, Ant, for the next week to be closer?”