by JS Harker
“I thought you were waiting for a special guy.”
“Flynn is special, and it was kind of happening.”
Javi raised an eyebrow. “Sorry I interrupted.”
“It’s fine,” Derek said, though he wasn’t sure if that was how he felt. The whole thing was getting twisted and confused in his head. “Probably better this way.”
“You sure?”
“Hey, it’s done, isn’t it? And he wants another date, so that’s the important thing. Maybe if we did it, he’d move on and forget about me.”
“He did not kiss you like a guy who wants to forget about you.” Javi tossed Derek’s pillow to him. “And now my head’s confused again.”
“Let me guess. Why is someone so hot dating someone like me?” Derek demanded.
“Uh, no. Watching was kind of hot, and I thought it was just him, but now I’m not sure. Which doesn’t seem like a straight-guy reaction.”
“Your girlfriend’s going to love that.”
Javi pointed his finger at Derek. “Hey. Just because I might like dudes does not mean I find the ladies any less attractive. Because Sabrina is the best thing to ever happen to me. Just means I might need to think about multiple genders if I’m ever single again.”
“Flynn suggested a threesome.”
“I don’t need that visual.” Javi shook his head. “But it’s there now. And it keeps going and going and going. Thanks.”
The little fantasy kept playing in Derek’s mind too. If he kept it going, he was going to wind up uncomfortably hard and wouldn’t be able to leisurely take care of himself. He dug out his notebook. “We could let Sabrina watch. I’d be okay with that.”
“I’m going to ignore you.” Javi turned around and dug into his backpack for his laptop.
Derek grinned and put his pillow under his head. Being able to tease Javi for once was fun. “Flynn gives amazing blowjobs.”
“I am happy for you, but please, I’m begging. No more details.”
“But—”
“One more word about it, and I’m not going to let you borrow my C++ notes.”
Derek laughed. Once begun, he couldn’t stop. The whole thing seemed so absurd. Flynn. Him. Sex. Teasing Javi. But for the first time, a huge weight was lifted off him. A weight he hadn’t even known was crushing him. One great date, and the world was brighter.
Derek couldn’t wait for their second date either.
Chapter Eight
THE mall’s sound system blared the incessant jingling bell song for the third time during Flynn’s shift. He sat at the sales counter, waiting for either a customer or Derek. He’d promised to stop by before work, but Flynn forgot to ask when that would be. Time was less concrete in the feylands, and its recent introduction into Flynn’s life made him all too aware of when it was passing. Especially when it seemed to defy its rigid structure and take longer than it should. He thought that was a trick reserved for Queen Mab’s Court.
“Tuesday mornings are the literal worst.” Gregory had propped the door open to Wonderland and leaned against the doorframe.
Gregory’s use of the word “literal” was the first new idiom Flynn learned at Santa’s Workshop. His emphatic statement reminded Flynn of what Derek had said over their third shared dinner. Some humans complained for the sake of complaining. And according to the social rule Derek had given him, Flynn wasn’t required to care or listen, particularly in the case of Gregory.
“My real problem is a lack of sleep.” Gregory came over and leaned on the counter near Flynn. He had a coy expression, and he stretched out. An enticing display, if only Gregory’s personality matched. “I have an easier time when someone’s in bed with me.”
“You should find a companion,” Flynn said flatly.
“I should.” Gregory nudged Flynn’s shoulder and stayed close. “What are you doing tonight?”
Flynn lightly put his hand on Gregory’s shoulder and pushed him away. “I don’t know. I have to talk to Derek.”
“Derek?” Gregory repeated, the shock and disgust plain on his face.
Outright cursing a man for saying his boyfriend’s name in such a manner seemed like a bit of an overreaction. Flynn considered his options anyway. Gregory might enjoy life as a rat or eternally unlucky.
“Yes. He’s my boyfriend.”
“You are dating Derek.”
Flynn looked at him crossly. However, his displeasure didn’t send Gregory away. “Why do you keep saying his name that way? You dated him.”
“And I regret ever bothering. He dumped me. Shows you how much taste he has.”
Flynn thought it showed a sign of excellent taste. “He said you lied and cheated on him.”
“Because I was bored out of my mind dating him. He never wanted to do anything fun.”
“Doesn’t seem like the Derek I know,” Flynn said.
Gregory snorted. “Wait until you try to get laid. Then it’s all stutters and mumbles.”
“There is more to a relationship than sex,” Flynn replied. Lulu was going to laugh when she heard his story later. One of the fey reminding a human there was more than physical pleasure. Flynn was shocked to hear himself say it.
But it was true. He’d shared more kisses with Derek since their date at the lagoon. Some were sweet, some passionate, but each was a treasure because of the time they spent together.
“Oh, elves, Santa could use some help out here!” Nate called.
“Someone finally showed,” Gregory grumbled. “Swap me.”
Flynn was scheduled to work the counter, and he’d made a promise to be at it. “No.”
Derek came around the corner. He had two coffee cups in his hands, and he set one in front of Flynn. Another gift? At this rate Flynn would need a bag as large as the mythical Santa to keep up with him.
Gregory glared between the two of them and huffed. “Fine. Just remember when you get bored, you can call me.”
Flynn scowled at Gregory’s back as he left the shop. Not wanting further interruptions from him, he leaned over and unstuck the door so it would shut.
“Did he—I mean, does he know about us?” Derek had that clouded, uncertain expression again.
“I told him you were my boyfriend. He doesn’t seem to think we make a good couple. Not that I care.” Flynn turned toward Derek as he retook his seat. “What did you bring me?”
“Salted caramel. I’d bring you a Frappuccino, but I have a feeling you’ll become an addict.” Derek set a few sugar packets on the counter.
“Thank you for the coffee.” Flynn leaned up and gave him a quick kiss.
Derek glanced around, a mischievous expression lighting his brown eyes. Satisfied by the lack of people, he turned to Flynn and kissed him. He cupped the back of Flynn’s head as he deepened their kiss, using his tongue to explore Flynn’s mouth. He tasted of coffee and chocolate. Flynn took hold of his coat collar to pull him down into the kiss. He moaned, and Derek held on to him tighter.
Curse his job and the counter between them. Flynn wondered if he could get away with having Derek in the workshop if he closed the shutter. Or perhaps Derek’s car, though that would be cramped and too cold for Derek.
“Sorry, sorry,” Derek said as he pulled away. He pressed quick kisses to Flynn’s lips as he dug his phone out of his pocket. “Damn thing won’t stop buzzing.”
Flynn was slightly breathless as Derek’s attention turned to his phone. Oh, that was new. His head spun and his groin ached with sudden urgency.
Sex was not the only component to a relationship, but it was something Flynn wanted to indulge in with Derek. And sooner rather than later.
Derek’s mood shifted the longer he fiddled with his phone.
“What’s wrong?” Flynn asked.
“My mom doesn’t seem to get the idea I can’t make fudge in a dorm room or find the time to come home. It’s finals week. She knows it’s finals week.”
Flynn had the great and terrible finals week to thank for the short amount of time he’d
spent with Derek on their last three dates. These finals needed to end immediately. “What do you need to make fudge?”
“I can pick up the supplies, but I don’t have a stove,” Derek said.
“I have one of those you can borrow.”
Derek scratched his head. “Can you promise you won’t eat it all?”
Flynn placed a hand over his heart, mocking feeling insulted.
Derek rolled his eyes. “It’s like pure sugar. You eat packets for fun.”
“Will you make some I can eat?”
“If you promise not to eat everything I make, I’ll make you your own pan.”
That sounded like the best deal Flynn had heard in a while. He nodded. “Deal.”
Derek groaned in annoyance and shook his head, but his attention was down on his phone again. “She is being impossible. She’s demanding I make some by Saturday.”
“Is it possible?”
Derek rubbed his forehead and scowled. “My last final is Thursday, but I have the closing shift that night and opening the next morning. I have Friday night off, but I was really hoping to spend it with you.”
“We can spend it together making fudge,” Flynn said.
Derek still didn’t look pleased. “Not how I wanted to spend my Friday night.”
“I can help.”
“I’m not saying we can’t have fun, but this isn’t what I pictured.”
Flynn grinned at him. “What did you imagine?”
Derek fussed with the cardboard wrapper around his coffee cup, sliding it up and down. “You know, stuff.”
Derek’s shyness was endearing. Flynn wanted to hear him say the word, if only because he seemed to make it so precious. “Stuff?”
“Sex stuff,” Derek said. Then he began to turn pink again. He did that a lot. Flynn thought it was cute.
“I’ve been picturing that a lot lately too.” Flynn took Derek’s hand.
“Maybe we should cool it on the talking about it.”
“Why?”
Derek leaned in closer and whispered, “Because I don’t want to go to work with a hard-on.”
Flynn chuckled and stroked his thumb across Derek’s knuckles. “You’re aroused that easily?”
“I’m nineteen with an overimaginative sex drive, and I have the hottest, nicest boyfriend ever,” Derek replied. “I have a hard time being not turned-on lately.”
“That sounds like an excellent start to our Friday night,” Flynn said.
“All I have to do is survive until then.”
“Could these finals kill you?” Challenges in the feylands could cost a life from time to time, hence why so few fey sought out difficulties head-on. They thought it better to languish in their world, unchanged, than risk themselves.
“Eh, not usually. But I’ve got this chem test I haven’t studied for at all, so I’m probably going to fail it. We still on for dinner tonight?”
“I don’t want to be the cause of your failure.”
“Not studying all semester will be,” Derek replied. “And I still need to eat. So?”
“Yes. We’ll still grab dinner together.” Flynn kissed Derek’s cheek.
“Great. I’ll see you later. Hope you enjoy your coffee.”
Derek left with a smile, and Flynn couldn’t help mirroring it. Being near him was so easy, and there was an added bonus of a new coffee flavor. The last one was white chocolate. Derek said this one was salted caramel.
Flynn sipped the coffee. Caramel was a nice flavor, but he wasn’t sure where the salt came into the equation. He couldn’t taste any. Unfortunately this coffee wasn’t as sweet as the last, which was a disappointment. He opened the lid.
On top of the coffee was a white blob of whipped cream. Some had smashed onto the lid, and little salt crystals sparkled among the white. Flynn licked a portion off the lid. Salt and sugar wasn’t as good a flavor as he’d hoped. He poured the little packets of sugar into the coffee, but he didn’t have anything to stir with. A little magic would help. He concentrated and used a tiny bit to stir his drink.
Ah, yes, after the next packet of sugar was mixed in, the coffee was drinkable. Flynn would have to tell Derek not to bother with this particular flavor again.
Because he and Derek had a budding relationship. The knowledge was plain and obvious, but the realization only struck Flynn in the moment between sips of coffee. He genuinely cared about Derek and looked forward to seeing him. Not because he brought gifts all the time, but because they were building a history together. Shared common experiences.
No wonder Lulu warned him about giving out his heart.
A creeping sensation like a hundred spiders crawling down his arm worked its way over Flynn. He shivered and brushed his arms, but the sensation lingered. He wanted to run, but it was on his skin. Rubbing his arms didn’t make it go away.
A man in a dark coat stood outside one of the nearby stores. He glared in Flynn’s direction with such intensity Flynn felt guilty for not recognizing him. A lot of people came through Wonderland or milled about the mall in general. But this man did spark a memory after a moment. He was the man from the bus stop. The one who had felt like fey but wasn’t right.
He looked older, maybe in his sixties, and his scowl deepened to cause more lines on his face. He had his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched. More menacing in the mall light, he was scarier for being seen instead of remaining unknown.
A pressure built along the phantom spiders’ tracks. The more Flynn watched him, the more something seemed wrong about him. He lacked the right presence for someone from the feylands, but Flynn was sure this man somehow knew what he was.
The man took a step toward the sales counter.
The door behind Flynn opened, and Gregory poked his head in. “Oh my God, Flynn. You have to come see this. A little girl threw up all over the front of the toy store.”
“Swap me places?” Flynn asked.
“No way. I need to see what Derek does next.”
“You could try not being so happy about his misfortune.”
“Where would be the fun in that?” Gregory said.
The creeping sensation eased, and Flynn checked over his shoulder. The man had gone, but Flynn’s nerves weren’t appeased. If the man wanted to speak to him, then he might come back at any time. Flynn had no idea what he’d want. Someone who set off such unpleasantness couldn’t want anything good.
“He is such a disaster,” Gregory said. He leaned against the doorframe. “Why are you going out with him and not me?”
“Because he has a work ethic,” Flynn replied.
“I can work it when I have something worth working for.” Gregory had his flirtatious grin. He leered at Flynn. Such blatant desire was closer to the flirting style Flynn experienced at home, but he preferred Derek’s way more and more.
Flynn turned his back on Gregory. Apparently engaging him encouraged his unsubtle attempts to lure Flynn into bed. Flynn only wanted to see what Derek would be like.
Finals needed to end already.
Chapter Nine
DEREK would rather retake his chem final than be in a crowded grocery store on a Friday night in the month of December. Between the bell ringers at the doors, the holiday displays crowding the aisles, and the people, navigating through the store was a nightmare. Derek grabbed a few bags of marshmallows and dumped them into his cart. He counted what he had, which ought to be enough, and then added another two for insurance. Flynn really loved sugar. A little extra couldn’t hurt.
His phone buzzed as he grabbed bags of chocolate chips. Afraid Flynn was cancelling on him, Derek hurried to dig it out and answer it. “Hello?”
“Hi, sweetheart,” Mom said.
Mom. Almost as bad as a cancellation. After her texts, he’d avoided her calls all week, sending quick messages to say he was too busy with work or school. But she knew finals were over, and he couldn’t use them as an excuse.
“Hey, Mom. What do you want?”
“That’s a plea
sant way to speak to your mother.”
Derek sighed, then regretted it because she heard him. Maybe she hadn’t because the store’s Christmas music was super loud. “Sorry. I’m at the store.”
“You said you had tonight off.”
She could remember that but apparently not that he had plans. Derek decided to take a run at the candy aisle too. What would happen if he added gummy bears to the bottom of a pan? It was worth trying out. Flynn would probably eat it.
“Grocery store,” Derek said. “I’m buying supplies for making fudge.”
“So you’re coming home?”
“No. I’m making it at a friend’s.”
There was a pause. Mom was about to lay on some guilt. Derek bit the corner of his lip while he waited for her next words. Mom always used the guilt card when he didn’t go along with her plans. She’d say something about tradition, but he needed to start doing some of these things on his own. Even holiday things.
“Friend?” Mom asked. “Which one?”
“One you haven’t met.” Derek had forgotten to grab the foil pans. He should have made a list before coming to the store. If he kept going by memory, he would bounce back and forth between the aisles all night.
“This friend is okay with you making a mess in their kitchen?”
“I know how to clean up after myself.”
Mom sighed like she didn’t believe him—which she didn’t have reason to. When he was home, she cleaned before he had a chance to do it himself. Of course, he might get to it first if he didn’t take a whole day to do it.
“I still need to know when you’re coming home,” Mom said.
“I don’t know. Next weekend?”
“I need you home sooner than that. The Meyers’ Christmas party is tomorrow night.”
Derek suppressed the urge to complain. That was why she was insistent on making the fudge this week. Of course Mom would dump a party invitation on him at the last minute. “I can’t make it.”
“Why not? Finals are over.”
Derek considered lying and claiming he had work, but she might actually swing by the store and lament over the bad fortune. At the very least, she’d keep reminding him how he hadn’t made it because of his job.