Weight of Everything

by Anna Wineheart

  He shoved Gage off, so pissed with himself that he wanted to storm out of the kitchen. No more ribs.

  “Hey,” Gage said, stopping him in his tracks. “Just one question before you go.”

  Ulric turned, wishing he could stop humiliating himself in front of Gage. “What?”

  “The real question, the one that we were betting on. You haven’t answered it. Were these ribs better than the best sex you’ve ever had?”

  Ulric froze. They were. Gage was watching him carefully, and Ulric didn’t know if Gage could read it from his face, just like that.

  He glanced out the kitchen doorway, wanting to say that, yes, all the sex he’d ever had was pretty mediocre. Except he glimpsed the dining room, the spot on the floor where he’d ridden Gage to orgasm.

  That was the exception. And it had been even better than Gage’s ribs. Better than Gage pushing his meaty bone into Ulric’s mouth.

  “The short answer is yes,” Ulric muttered, his ears prickling.

  “The long answer?” Gage smiled; Ulric’s resolve weakened.

  He shouldn’t tell Gage how much he’d enjoyed that romp. Ulric pulled out his wallet, lobbing it over. “There. Take your two hundred bucks. Leave me alone.”

  Gage caught his wallet. Ulric stalked out of the kitchen, flopping onto the living room couch. He would’ve gone back to his work, except he couldn’t stop thinking about how much he’d fucked up in one single day. So much for dressing up.

  A couple minutes later, Gage emerged from the kitchen, scrutinizing something. “Were you eighteen when you had this pic taken? You were a pretty cute kid.”

  Ulric’s heart sank. Of all things, Gage had to dig out his driver’s license with that horrible photo? “Why’re you looking at that?”

  Ulric regretted ever having that photo taken. That was before he’d had his braces done—he’d smiled too wide, and his crooked teeth had been immortalized in that photo. Back then, he’d also been fat—not so different from how he was now.

  Gage sat on the couch next to him, still looking at his photo. Ulric scrubbed his face. “Give it back, Gage. Stop looking.”

  But Gage held up the driver’s license, comparing Ulric’s past to his present self. Ulric winced. He was on the fast track to no more sex with Gage Frost, ever.

  “Gage.”

  “You’re just as cute as you were back then.” Gage tucked Ulric’s driver’s license back into its plastic sleeve, the one with a cartoon duck sticker strategically pasted so it would cover up his old photo.

  “I’m not cute.”

  “Yes, you are.” Gage returned the license to its original pocket. Then he counted out his $200, pocketed it, and returned the wallet to Ulric. “Why wouldn’t I call my best friend the cutest person ever?”

  Ulric’s heart missed a beat. They were best friends now? “Because that’s just weird.”

  Gage shuffled over, bumping their arms. Ulric tried not to pay attention to the skin contact, he tried not to fill his lungs with Gage’s pine scent. But the more their bodies touched, the more he wished he could have this man.

  “When will your ribs be ready?” Gage asked.

  “Two more hours.”

  “Want to watch a movie? I’ll pick Bloody Hollows.”

  Ulric stared. “Why would you want to watch that?”

  “So I can scream, and you’ll get to be all alpha and comfort me.” Gage grinned. “No?”

  Ulric tried to wrap his mind around that. “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope.” Gage stuck out his pinky finger. “Promise me you won’t laugh if I scream.”

  Despite his doubts, Ulric linked their pinkies together. “I promise.”

  He bought the movie and started it. Like they had the other night, Gage leaned against him, his warmth soaking into Ulric’s arm.

  The movie began with a lightning strike just above a creaky old house, the surrounding trees rustling ominously. Gage grimaced.

  “It’s not so bad,” Ulric said. “Horror movies like doing this.”

  “But it’s telling me that everyone will end up dying.”

  Ulric shrugged. “Probably.”

  Gage sighed. “I hate it when the good guys die, though.”

  “Same here.”

  “Then why do you watch it?” Gage seemed confused. “Why not watch something with a happy ending?”

  Ulric tried to find the words to explain himself. “Because it feels real enough that I don’t have to think about real life for a bit. It’s nice when all I have to be scared of is whether the zombies will eat me.”

  Gage stared at him for a long moment. Then he linked their fingers together and snuggled closer. He kissed Ulric’s shoulder. “I’ll stop them from eating you.”

  Ulric’s heart skipped. “I’d do the same for you.”

  Gage smiled, and they settled into the movie. Like Gage had warned, he tensed up through the show. He swore and jerked at the jump scares, he gripped Ulric’s hand painfully tight when some of the good guys were killed.

  Ulric leaned in to comfort him, kissing the back of Gage’s hand. Gage answered by pressing kisses to Ulric’s knuckles.

  They were being friends. Kisses were just a part of that, right?

  When the ending credits began to roll, Gage sagged into the couch, looking exhausted. “That was better than I expected.”

  “Because not everyone died?”

  “Because I wasn’t watching it alone.” Gage angled a warm smile at Ulric; that warmth went all the way to Ulric’s toes.

  “Want to watch another?” Ulric teased.

  “No.” But Gage was still holding Ulric’s hand, and they were leaning against each other, relaxed. “Thanks for not laughing at me.”

  “To be fair, you didn’t scream,” Ulric pointed out.

  “Damn near did a few times.”

  Ulric laid his head on Gage’s shoulder, chuckling. “I’ve screamed, too, you know. It’s okay to scream. That’s why they’re called horror movies.”

  Gage huffed, but he leaned in, kissing Ulric’s temple. “I’ll remember that.”

  He didn’t have to kiss Ulric there. Ulric’s heart fluttered. He stroked the back of Gage’s hand—it was large and strong, his fingertips callused. Like the rest of his body, Gage’s hands looked better than Ulric’s, too.

  It felt like all of these moments came from borrowed time; sooner or later, Gage would get tired of Ulric, and start looking for an omega. Someone better, someone who could give him a family. The things a normal person would want.

  “What’s wrong?” Gage murmured.

  Ulric shook his head. “Nothing.”

  “That’s not nothing. You look sad.” Gage turned, at the same time Ulric’s phone alarm went off—loud and jarring in the quiet room.

  Ulric jumped. But he was also secretly glad for the distraction. “Looks like my ribs are done. The house smells like meat.”

  Gage narrowed his eyes. Ulric hurried away to the kitchen, forcing a smile onto his face. Gage didn’t need to know how he felt.

  He pulled his ribs out of the oven, picking the foil carefully open. Steam billowed into the air. When it cooled enough that he could pry off the rest of the foil, Ulric stuck a fork in the meat—it all but fell off the bone.

  Gage rumbled his approval. “It looks good.”

  So Ulric handed him the fork, heading to the fridge for his BBQ sauce. “It’s better with this, I think.”

  Gage was already picking a chunk of meat off the bone. He blew on it, and then popped it into his mouth, his eyelids slipping shut. “Mm. Pretty damn good, O’Neil.”

  Ulric laughed, the ball of nervous energy in his chest unraveling. Gage likes it. “It’s ribs. They’re pretty easy if you give them some time. But it’s nothing like the one you made.” Ulric shrugged. “I would’ve lost, either way.”

  Gage met his eyes, giving him such a fond look that Ulric had to break their stare, his face burning up. “You made this,” Gage murmured. “I’m not comparing it to mi
ne.”

  “That’s like you saying I’m cute,” Ulric muttered. “Shit about not comparing to yourself.”

  Gage reached over and hugged him from behind. Ulric yelped. Gage’s solid chest brushed his back; his arms were warm and strong around Ulric’s body—all the parts of himself he was ashamed of.

  “To be honest,” Gage whispered in his ear, “I like all of this.” Gage ran his hand down Ulric’s side, along all his curves. “More to hold.”

  Ulric’s blush scorched all the way to the back of his head. “That’s just bullshit.”

  “You’re not the one holding you, so that’s not a valid point.” Gage nuzzled Ulric’s ear, hugging him tighter. “I’d love to hug you all day, every day.”

  Ulric’s breath stuck in his throat. “If you keep saying things like that, I’m going to hold you to it. Extra rent. Five minutes of hugs a day.”

  Gage laughed. The sound vibrated through Ulric’s back—so very lovely. “What about the days when our schedules clash?”

  “Then you’ll make up for it another day.” Ulric thought maybe Gage might say it was crazy, but Gage just held him tighter.

  “Deal.”

  “I’m going to make a spreadsheet for it,” Ulric said. “And I’m going to circle all the days you don’t pay up with your hugs.”

  Gage laughed again. “You know, they say everyone has their bad sides. Is this your bad side? You want hugs on a schedule?”

  Ulric snorted. “You think that’s my bad side?”

  “Yup.”

  “How should I change my bad side, then?”

  “Unscheduled hugs!” Gage shrugged. “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter to me, actually. Schedule it. Whatever makes you happy.”

  Ulric stared, unable to believe all the acceptance Gage was showing him. He wouldn’t question it—if he looked at everything too closely, it might fall apart. Instead, he pretended that he was living in a world where everything turned out perfect.

  A world where Gage liked touching him.

  He looked at Gage’s arms wrapped around his belly, Gage’s fingers lightly stroking his side. Gage didn’t know it, but every brush sent an explosion of tingles through Ulric’s skin.

  It was a lot more than anyone else had given him. His throat tightened.

  “Don’t fall in love, okay?” Gage murmured against Ulric’s hair, his breath warm. “We’ll just be best friends.”

  “I promise,” Ulric said, his heart squeezing.

  He hoped like crazy he wouldn’t break his word.

  14

  Gage Doesn’t Realize It, But

  Gage looked sidelong at the alpha beside him. He’d been watching Ulric for the past half-hour, but little had changed. Despite his smile, Ulric was still tense.

  “What’s wrong with visiting the neighbors?” Gage asked.

  Ulric jerked out of his thoughts. “Nothing.”

  Gage reached over, rubbing his neck. “Worried that they’ll reject your ribs?”

  Ulric hugged the casserole dish closer to himself. “Maybe.”

  They were walking down the street to the house at the end—really, with all the rooms that had been added over the years, it looked more like an eccentric wizard’s haphazard mansion.

  “Worried that they won’t like you?” Gage asked.

  “Kind of.” Ulric chewed on his lip.

  It wasn’t normal for an alpha to be this uncertain. Gage had come across plenty of alphas in his life. Alphas tended to be confident, they tended to be straightforward and aggressive, and unafraid of anything. On the surface, anyway.

  So Ulric being uneasy like that... It sent red flags up in Gage’s mind. “Did you have bad neighbors?”

  Had someone hurt Ulric in the past?

  A low snarl of anger rose through Gage’s chest. Before Ulric could answer, though, they arrived at the tall iron fence, Ulric pressing the doorbell at the gate. Then he straightened his shoulders, putting on a bigger smile.

  Gage was forced to let the matter slide. He wanted to get to the bottom of this, though. He wanted to see what Ulric could be like when he wasn’t afraid like he was right now.

  He touched the small of Ulric’s back. When Ulric turned, Gage kissed his cheek. “You’ll be fine,” Gage whispered. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  Ulric’s smile faded a little—he almost looked sad again. Gage wrapped his arm more tightly around Ulric. Screw what everyone else thought. There were married alphas around. The neighbors could assume that Gage and Ulric were dating, or something. Gage didn’t mind.

  “You shouldn’t do that.” Ulric nudged Gage’s arm off. “It’s not appropriate.”

  “They can think what they want.” Gage held him. “Unless you violently disapprove.”

  Ulric looked torn. So Gage kissed his jaw.

  “Hey there,” someone said. “You guys are earlier than we expected.”

  Ulric jerked away from Gage like he’d been burnt. Gage breathed out his disappointment.

  When he turned, he found a too-familiar figure striding toward them. Gage blinked. He’d seen that face on TV, and sometimes on the news. Isn’t that...?

  Phil O’Riley. Retired basketball star. He’d played for the New York Rockets—and he was pretty damn good at what he did. Gage had spent weeks of his childhood watching Phil’s basketball games on TV. Was this his house? Why had Ulric not told him?

  “King,” Ulric said, recognition lighting his face. He looked relieved. Not surprised. Did he already know, and he’d meant to surprise Gage?

  But Ulric didn’t look at Gage with any sort of glee. He looked at Gage like he needed support, and then he showed King the casserole dish, all covered up with plastic wrap.

  “I made some ribs,” Ulric said nervously. “As thanks for inviting us.”

  King unlocked the gate, waving them in. “That looks delicious. C’mon in!”

  As he stepped in, Gage held his hand out. He hope he wasn’t overdoing this. “Great to meet you, Mr. O’Riley.”

  King shook his hand and winked. “My friends call me King. You must be Gage.”

  It was pretty damn surreal, a basketball star knowing your name. Gage wanted to text his siblings, maybe show them a picture of Phil O’Riley. It’d be rude to do it right now, though.

  Ulric looked oddly at Gage. “You know King?”

  Gage frowned. “Don’t you?”

  King laughed and beckoned them toward the house. “I’m just your friendly neighborhood dog-walker,” he said, snapping his fingers at a mutt scampering across the lawn. “Don’t mind me.”

  As King headed for the front door, Gage grabbed Ulric by the arm, leaning so close that his lips brushed Ulric’s ear. Ulric flushed. “He’s Phil O’Riley,” Gage whispered. “You’ve never heard of him?”

  Ulric looked bewildered. “Maybe?”

  He was clueless and more than just a bit adorable, and Gage couldn’t help chuckling. “It’s fine. Let’s head in.”

  Gage rubbed Ulric’s back, following him into the house. Before he could, the dog hurried over, sniffing at him and Ulric. It wagged its tail excitedly.

  Inside, the place was vast—the foyer led to the sitting area, and the dining room had a chandelier in it, complete with floor-to-ceiling French windows and a fancy-looking patio in the back.

  Gage had grown up in a small apartment on the other side of town. He hadn’t really thought about the houses here—mansions with beautiful marble floors and wide doorways and... the dining table could seat twelve. He felt like a pauper with his eyeballs falling out, but he couldn’t help it.

  Ulric didn’t even bat an eyelid.

  “You had to invite them?” another voice drawled when they moved into the sitting room.

  The speaker was a thin man—older, omega, but also familiar. This time, Ulric tensed.

  When Ulric had told Gage about their visit to “Phinny’s place”, Gage had thought it an odd name for someone they’d both never met. Now, Gage realized that “Phinny” was King’s
nickname for the Phoenix Blues, a singer who had dropped out of the public’s eye a few years back.

  Gage hadn’t even realized that Phoenix was their neighbor. How was that possible?

  Ulric sent Gage a helpless look. Gage felt the exact same way.

  “Yup, I invited them,” King said, grabbing a cocktail as he sat down. The mutt trotted over and lay contentedly at his feet. “They passed Crumbs’ test. Anyway, we need some fresh blood in this group, or it’ll just be Nate and I watching football when you go off on one of your jaunts.”

  “This is my property, you realize.” Phoenix rolled his eyes, but he waved toward the mini bar in the corner of the room. “Drinks are there. Help yourselves.”

  Ulric straightened. Then he smiled like he was a whole other person, and lifted the wrapping off his casserole dish. “I baked some ribs for today, ah, thinking they were for more ordinary folks. It’s probably not what you’re used to, though.”

  King perked up. “Ribs are my favorite. What did you season them with?”

  “These are spiced with steak seasoning and BBQ sauce—not elegant, but they’re fall-off-the-bone tender. Would you like some?” Ulric looked hopeful, but he was so damn polite that Gage’s chest swelled with pride. That? That was a sweet recovery. Better than Gage would’ve done.

  “Yes, please,” King said. “I’ll get the plates.”

  Phoenix glanced warily at the ribs. “I’ll see if King likes his.”

  “No worries,” Ulric answered. Then he turned to the other person in the room—an alpha in his forties that Gage didn’t recognize. He assumed that was Nate.

  “I’ll have some,” Nate said, looking interested.

  “You don’t happen to be anyone famous, do you?” Gage blurted. “I feel as though we’ve just crashed a really high-profile party.”

  Nate laughed. “Nah. I’m just a regular firefighter. That’s all.”

  “Pfft.” Phoenix rolled his eyes like there was something important Nate wasn’t telling them, but neither of them elaborated.

  “Is it okay if I get this heated up a bit more before I serve it?” Ulric wriggled his casserole dish.