Sumage Solution GL Carriger

by G. L. Carriger

  Biff watched his date approach. Stared, really. Max was surely the prettiest thing ever.

  Biff stood up straight and slung his jacket over the back of the bike as Max came right up to him, crowding his space, like he’d been pulled there. Or maybe he was testing Biff’s closet.

  Biff didn’t care a bean for the opinions of Sausalito’s Friday night strangers. He wrapped an arm about the sumage and yanked him full against him. Chest to chest, groin to groin, he ran his free hand down the other man’s spine, sealing them together.

  “Hey.” I was right, he is almost as tall as me.

  “Hey.” Max licked his lips. A self-conscious gesture that drew all Biff’s focus there. Max’s hands stroked the length of both Biff’s arms. “This shirt is sin on a stick.”

  “Glad you like it.”

  “Can I lick it off? It looks edible. You look edible.”

  Biff didn’t answer, because that was maybe the best suggestion ever. He decided to kiss Max instead. Well, not really decided, just had to. It’d been three days since DURPS. Three days of wondering if he’d dreamed Maximillian Barker into existence. If he overestimated his smell. If he’d exaggerated their attraction, and the trouble he was in.

  Nope.

  He desperately needed to see if Max tasted like caramel too.

  He did. Sweet, salty, and burnt-sugar quintessence.

  The man melted against him, molded to him with the prettiest little whimper. He fisted Biff’s stupid shirt and opened his mouth without hesitation.

  Biff ground against him and drowned in caramel and rum and heat and spice and man. Forgot they were outside a theater on a busy street. Forgot that the sun had set and his canines were growing. As if he were some pup on his first shift with no control at all.

  That thought splashed him with reality.

  Biff straightened and set the sumage apart from him, although he kept hold – to keep Max steady, of course, not because he needed the contact.

  Max looked dazed, blinked a few times. Those tilted blue eyes returning to reality. Then he grinned, big and wide. “Interesting closet.”

  Biff smiled. “I said give me a chance.”

  “So far, so good. Next up is the big test.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’m taking you to Castro. On a Friday night.”

  * * *

  Oh shit oh shit oh shit this was a really bad idea. Max clung to his date’s hand as they negotiated a sea of hot male humanity.

  Bryan took to the Castro with equanimity. Staring about with wide, interested hazel eyes. He seemed shocked on occasion but not offended.

  The problem was, Castro really took to Bryan. Or Biff. Or whatever.

  “I think my ass has been grabbed about ten times in the last block alone,” the werewolf muttered.

  “It’s the shirt.”

  “Shirt’s leading men to my ass?”

  Max leaned back, Bryan slid his arm firmly around him as if to offer support. Yes! “You do have a bit of a bubble butt.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “No need for excuses with an ass like that.” Greatly daring, Max reached down and stole a squeeze himself.

  The werewolf gave him a pained expression. “Do I come off as a bottom?”

  Max sputtered. “Uh, do you even know what that means?”

  “I’ll have you know that I too have access to the internet.”

  “So, what have you done, you know, with another dude?” Max cocked his head, interested.

  Bryan tilted his chin down and lowered his lashes. Max thought that he might come to love that look. It was Bryan’s shy I don’t wanna talk about it expression.

  “Okay, it can wait until we’re eating.”

  The werewolf looked up, eyes bright. “Oh, good. You’re gonna feed me.”

  “You thought I might starve you into submission?”

  “Are we back to the bottom thing again?”

  Max choked in surprise. Was Bryan teasing him? “Do you like Ethiopian?”

  “Are we still talking about sexual preferences?”

  “Food, Muscles.”

  “Do I?”

  “Let’s find out.”

  The restaurant was way less crowded than the street but still afforded a reasonable view of the madness outside.

  “It’s crazier than I ever dreamed.”

  “Dreamed of the Castro, have you?”

  “Don’t most gay men?” Bryan actually held Max’s chair out for him.

  Max thought he might melt. Again. That kiss. I will not think about it. But dude! “You should see it during Pride.” He picked up the menu. “I’m assuming you like meat?”

  Bryan sat and gave him a bit of a leer.

  Max grinned. “You know what I mean.”

  “Yep.”

  Max ordered a sampler platter, one meat, one veggie, and two honey wines. Bryan didn’t seem to mind his ordering for them both. But Max didn’t think it was a submissive thing – Bryan was accustomed to accommodating a pack. There could be advantages to dating a werewolf. Especially a Beta. Sign around the neck reads: Plays well with others. Hairy chest. Kisses like a god.

  Although Bryan did look at him askance, at the second part of the order. “You aren’t a…vegetarian?” He said the word like it was worse than anything else imaginable.

  Max grinned. “What if I said vegan?”

  Bryan stood. “This date is over. Sumage is one thing. Human is another. But vegan? I have my reputation to protect.”

  Max laughed. “Relax, big guy. I just genuinely like vegetables. So will you, here. I promise. The lentils are to die for.”

  Bryan sat back down looking deeply suspicious. “Lentils? Are you insane?”

  The waiter came by with their honey wine.

  Bryan sipped it cautiously.

  “You’re probably a beer guy.” Max felt hot-eared and high-handed. What was I thinking?

  “I’m a nothing guy. Alcohol doesn’t do much to a werewolf.”

  “And it does too much to a mage. But this stuff’s not very strong.”

  They sipped for a bit, Max wondered if things were going to get awkward. Then a large rough palm was placed on his knee, a little squeeze followed.

  He smiled into his honey wine. “So, bottoming?”

  Bryan snorted a bit of his drink. Glared at it as if it were at fault, and put it aside. “Honestly? No idea. Not something I think I’d like, but not ruling it out either.”

  Such a sweet, basic man. Max tried not to imagine how much fun it would be to teach him. Now, these are your nerve endings. And this, big guy, is your prostate. ’Course, he might not like it. Not all men did. But it’d sure be fun to find out.

  He pressed. “Have you ever done it to a woman?”

  “Nope.” One of those blushes and a quick gulp of the wine to try hiding it.

  Max pressed. “So, what have you done?”

  “With a guy? Well, there was this pretty hot kiss, earlier this evening. Think I might be getting a grope in as we speak.” The hand on Max’s leg shifted a little upward and squeezed a little harder.

  “Yeah.” Max swallowed his tongue for a second. The hand was still moving.

  Bryan smiled. Max adored the little hint of those sharp canines. Aside from the muscles and being incredibly hot – animal magnetism, heh – Bryan didn’t really present as shifter. Except when he smiled and those teeth peeked out.

  “So, I’m thinking you can teach me.” The werewolf rumbled it, self-consciously, but his hazel eyes held a world of hope.

  “Yeah?”

  “Train me up.”

  Max didn’t want to let on how much he adored this suggestion. Like he could show Bryan everything, molding him into his ideal lover. Was that creepy? Or was that sexy? Either way, his dick adored the idea. As Bryan’s hand was about to discover.

  “You want the old queen to teach you the ropes, youngling?”

  “Naw. I want the hot mage to make me perfect for him.”

  “I c
an’t decide if that’s totally kinky or just a Beta wolf thing.”

  “Can’t it be both?”

  Max sipped his wine hurriedly because Bryan’s hand had closed around his prick, and suddenly his jeans had gone from tight to way too tight. Bryan was awfully aggressive for a gay virgin. Stop. God, please, don’t stop.

  “You sure aren’t shy about some stuff,” he said, when he could speak. Although he kept having to close his eyes, like a slow blink.

  Bryan’s eyes were on his lips.

  Max licked them. Taunting.

  The werewolf shuddered and removed his hand from Max’s cock. Which felt cold and neglected in an instant. Like I’m already addicted. Max wondered if he’d ever in his life – even during his always-horny teenage years – been this attracted to anyone. It was like the werewolf filled all his empty, broken, lonely parts with liquid fire. Scary and exhilarating. And wonderful. And he’s basically only kissed me and groped me. God, I’m desperate.

  Max bit his bottom lip, worried it. Watched his date’s eyes dilate until there was only a bit of hazel around the edge. Hazel that flashed yellow. Shit, do his eyes change when he’s aroused? How hot is that?

  Bryan murmured, “I think you’re better at this game than I am.”

  He was pulling back on their flirting. Max felt bereft but understood why – they hadn’t even eaten and already Max just wanted to take Bryan home and screw his little wolfie brains out.

  He might have accidentally said that out loud.

  “How fast can you eat?” Bryan wanted to know.

  Max looked him full in the face and licked his lips again. “What, baby, don’t want to take things slow?”

  A shrug. “Sure, if that’s what you like. I already said, you’re training me.”

  “Oh, fuck. I think we should switch topics.”

  The werewolf dipped his head in acquiescence. He was so fucking easygoing. Easy on the eyes. Easy to be around. Just easy. Man, I hope he stays that way all night. Mmm, training. Or with a wolf, is it taming?

  Max decided to bring up an awkward subject, partly in an effort to cool them both off.

  “So. Why not tell your pack?”

  “About training?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  Bryan shrugged. “It’s not that I don’t think they’ll be cool. Because they will. And it’s not that I think Alec will get mad, like being gay was his thing and now I’m taking it from him. Because he won’t.”

  “Then what?”

  “I think he’ll be hurt I didn’t tell him sooner. I think the others will want to get all up in my business. Try to find out why. And for how long. Set me up on dates. Generally poke their noses in where they aren’t wanted.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because they’re goddamn werewolves. It’s what we do, sniffing round everything, nose to ass.”

  “Yeah? You into that?”

  Bryan’s eyes, across from him flashed yellow. No mistake this time. Max gave a tiny gasp. Okay, so that’s a hot button.

  Max lowered his voice and leaned across the tiny table. “You want me to order you to lick me, don’t you?”

  The big man slumped, lowered his voice, stared into his wineglass, and muttered, “Every inch.”

  Breath whooshed right out of Max and he wondered if he’d ever catch it again. He wanted to pant.

  “How fast can you eat, Muscles?”

  “Pretty fucking fast. Even the goddamn lentils.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Spicy

  Okay, fine, the lentils weren’t that bad. In fact they were pretty good. And the lamb was sensational. And the sour spongy-bread stuff was kind of fun. Eating with one’s hands was strange (werewolves usually spent a lot of time trying not to act like animals) but Biff could roll with it.

  Biff’s arm snaked out of its own accord as they were leaving, and hauled the leaner man against his side so he could whisper in his ear, “Next time, let’s get takeout. Then I can eat it off you, instead of that weird bread.”

  He felt Max smile against his cheek. “Even the lentils?”

  “I’ll make patterns with them on your chest. No chest hair to get caught in, I bet.” Biff could just imagine it, that smooth expanse of coffee-colored skin.

  But Max flinched. Just a little. Is he self-conscious about the lack of hair? Biff tried to reassure him. “I like the idea of you all smooth.”

  “Yeah? Good thing I shaved, then.”

  Biff frowned, running a thumb from those cut-glass cheekbones to that pert little chin.

  “Not there, silly,” said the sumage.

  Biff tried not to swallow his tongue. Definitely trouble.

  “So, you’re a werewolf, right?”

  Now the man sounded nervous. Where had that come from? Biff swatted away yet another hand as it went for his ass. Then he swatted at one that went for Max’s. My Trouble! “Everyone knows, werewolves aren’t real.”

  Max bumped him, hip to hip. “Lemme get there. So, you’re all into smell, and touch, and taste?”

  Biff didn’t get the hesitation in his date’s voice. They’d just practically crawled across the dinner table and into each other’s laps. They were booking it down the gayest street in gay-town with the express intention of avoiding all the clubs and bars so they could go somewhere private and bang each other senseless. At least he thought that’s what they were doing. Man, I hope he doesn’t have a hundred roommates, ’cause I sure can’t take him back to my place.

  “I believe we already covered that.” Biff was willing to coax Max along, if that’s what he needed now.

  “Sight?”

  “I like looking at you. You’re sexy. You do know that, right?” He’d thought his mouthy sumage was all cocky confidence, but perhaps that was bravado. Biff’s Beta side rose. Care. Attention. Affection. What does he need?

  “Yeah, but you’re mostly into the other senses, right?”

  Biff frowned. Then grabbed the man’s hand and hauled him down a side alley, away from the worst of the crowds. “Is it a big bad wolf thing? Are you frightened I’ll get violent? My teeth might drop a bit and my eyes may shift, but that’s all. I’m not an actual animal. And I’m not a newly made pup.”

  Max worried his lower lip.

  Biff really wanted to kiss that lip right now, but this was serious. There was something else going on. There was something wrong. What had been all humming intimacy had crumbled into strained separation.

  “I’ve never slept with a werewolf before.”

  “The parts work the same way. I promise not to change form in the middle.”

  “Don’t even joke about that.”

  “What’s going on, Max?”

  Max took a deep breath. “I was thinking fondly of, I don’t know, something to keep us both a little controlled and calm.”

  “Restraints?” Biff wasn’t opposed to the idea, but this first time, he’d like his hands free. But if Max was worried about him controlling his wolf, he was willing to do anything to reassure him. Then again, he had nearly dropped teeth when they were kissing, so maybe a little restraint was a good idea.

  “Would you?” Max looked both turned on and curious.

  “Sure. But that’s not what you’re after, is it?”

  “No.”

  “Spit it out, Max. I’m the surly one, not you.”

  Max huffed a little laugh. “I was thinking, um, blindfold?”

  Biff considered. He desperately wanted to see Max naked. But if Max was uncomfortable or self-conscious?

  Pam had been that way. Especially as she put on weight during the later years of their marriage. Biff knew humans were odd, as a rule, about nudity. Werewolves not so much.

  “Can I lick you instead?”

  Max nodded violently.

  “All over?”

  Max nodded again.

  Enough separation. Biff grabbed and pulled him flush against his body. He nosed the side of the sumage’s neck and laved along the high neckline of that
tight shirt. He smelled the brown sugar and a zing of quintessence, and instead of that awful chemical coolant, there it was – butter rum. But overlying it was something else. Cologne? Yech.

  Biff bit Max softly in punishment.

  Max gave another one of his glorious tiny whimpers.

  Biff closed his eyes and reveled in the sensation. Max’s body against his. Max’s smell. Yummy caramel, delicious male musk, acceptable levels of quintessence, stupid cologne. He ran his hands down Max’s back, cupped that perfect ass he had been desperately trying not to ogle all evening. He delved his fingers into the cleft as much as Max’s tight jeans would allow.

  “Even here?” He pressed his advantage in the negotiations. Yeah, so it was doglike. Or wolflike, but he needed to taste. He had this feeling that was where Max would be the most…Max. No fake scent like on his neck, no deodorant like under his arms, no gel like on his hair, no honey wine like in his mouth. Just Max.

  Max swallowed against Biff’s tongue. “Yeah.”

  Biff grazed him with the sharp edge of one tooth.

  “Shower first.”

  Max jerked against him, insulted.

  Biff growled, drew him closer. “Not back there. You leave that be. But I want this crap off your neck, and that sharp-smelling stuff from under your arms, and what the hell are you using aftershave for? And gel. I mean really?”

  Max started to laugh. “You’re the worst gay man ever.”

  “You gonna take away my sight. I want smell. Your smell. Just you. Deal?”

  “Oh yeah, Muscles, you got yourself a deal.”

  Well damn, thought Biff as Max laughed, that was easy. The vision of their immediate future went straight to his cock. I am in so much trouble.

  * * *

  Max brought his werewolf home.

  “You live in Sausalito?”

  “I do.”

  “Of course you do.”

  Max took him to the massive house at the top of the hill. His father’s house. But not into it. He didn’t live there. Couldn’t live there. He let it rest with its memories, both of them abandoned, corroding, and forgotten. Because Dad would like that least of all. To just be…forgotten.