by Kit Fortier
“In the meantime, Ben, Eric—I’d suggest staying in and getting rest,” Dad said. “We want to make sure we can deal with what could come tomorrow, okay?”
Eric nodded. Ben took his hand and nodded, too.
“What do you want for breakfast, Eric?” Fox asked.
“Do you think they’d have country fried steak?” Eric wondered.
“There’s one way to find out,” Fox said as he picked up the room’s wireless phone.
*** Fox
The four lingered in the living room, talking. When the knock came, Jake hopped up and answered. A bellman pushed a cart into the suite’s dining area, followed by Jake. Another bellman came bearing laundry—all the clothes in both of the older men’s packs.
Jake tipped everyone and disappeared down the hall with the bellmen, locking up behind the hotel staff.
The cart had eight plates. There were four large breakfast plates of country fried steak. Each had hash browns and eggs over medium. Then there were four smaller plates of beignets. All were topped with glazed strawberries, powdered sugar, and fresh whipped cream. Fox passed out all the plates and silverware. The table itself looked good enough to eat.
“Dig in, boys,” Fox said, twirling a fork before he dug into his steak. Ben cut up his steak, feeding pieces to Eric. Jake looked determined not to glance up from his food until it was gone.
The four ate in relative silence. Beneath the table, Fox slid his foot against Jake’s hairy calf, getting a little rise out of his husband. Fox turned his attention to the boys once more, this time watching briefly as Eric cut his beignet up and fed bits to Ben, alternating between the sweet bite and a gentle kiss. For all his previous bluster, Jake seemed remarkably calm at the scene playing out before him. But one would be calm if he was laser-focused on cleaning his plates. The big man shot his young husband a frustrated glare when Fox snickered at his efforts to not watch his son make out in front of him.
Fox had to hand it to Ben. The both of them were lucky to have each other. Any other father would likely have put their foot down, and any other son would not have taken that well.
Ben cleared everyone’s plates, shuffling them all onto the cart. After pushing the cart to the front door, he returned to the group, and met his man at the loveseat. Eric stood while Ben got settled, at which point Ben pulled Eric down over him. Fox watched the two snickering and talking softly to each other. It was sweet. Jake, meanwhile, curled into Fox’s chest, facing away from his son. He made faces at Fox, knowing only he could see.
“Ben?”
“What’s up, Fox?”
“Wanna take Eric to buy more clothes? There are some great stores down on the main floor.”
Fox watched the younger Hughes and his heart’s desire babble nonsense at each other. Jake buried his face in Fox’s chest.
“That sounds great, Fox. We’ll be back soon.”
“Need any money?”
“It’s okay, Papa Fox,” Ben winked. “Mr. and Mrs. S gave me a five-thousand dollar gift credit card.”
“They gave you five thousand?” Jake cried, still hiding his face. “They only gave us five hundred!”
“I think you sprung the marriage thing on them last minute, Dad. I’m sure they would have given you more if they had more time to plan.”
Jake grumbled melodramatically. Fox ran his fingers through his husband’s coarse hair.
“Have fun, big Ben. You too, Eric,” Jake said.
“Thank you for breakfast, Fox,” Eric said.
“No problem, man. See you when you get back.”
Ben took Eric’s hand and dashed down the hall. The sound of the front door slammed behind them.
“Fox, you’re killing me,” Jake groaned.
“How is this my fault, papa bear? Did you hear that? What Ben called me? Little shit.”
“He is neither little or a shit.”
“You are too much fun, husband.”
“So are you, Papa Fox.”
“I think it’s great.”
Jake looked up. Pale silver-blue eyes danced with amusement.
“He’s comfortable enough with me to give me a name. Even if it’s a joke, he’s reaching out to me, right?”
Jake took Fox’s hand in his, playing with his fingers. “I think so. I’m glad he’s happy.”
“I’m glad Eric’s eating well. He could stand to gain a few pounds.”
“I was thinking about that too.”
“What’s on your mind, big guy?”
Jake turned so that his back was on Fox’s chest. Fox kissed him on the top of his head.
“Because he’s a Lycan, his body is probably adjusting to Lycan physiology.”
“I’m following.”
“It takes a lot of energy to heal—in this case, calories. You and I have to rest, eat, medicate—all that, just so that our bones can knit or we can recover from surgery, which is the closest we’d get to being slashed open without actually, well, being slashed open. But Lycans can do all that, like all other altered beasts, just by going through a change. For all that, they probably have to have enough energy to spare, or else the wolf in him could burn him out.”
“Do you think we got him in time?”
“Yes, but we shouldn’t waste a minute tomorrow.”
The two sat in the quiet of the sunlit room, holding each other. The warmth of the light of day blended comfortably with the coolness of the suite. Fox mused on the idea of the two of them stretched out like cats in the sun. Jake’s fingertips danced along Fox’s forearms and hands, lazily skating out patterns only the big guy’s subconscious mind would understand. When he stopped moving, Fox stilled, and waited.
“Do you think Ben might…” Jake gently took Fox’s hand in his own.
“Might what, papa bear?”
“Might go there, with Eric. No condom.”
Fox smiled. Jake was—after all—a dad, being a dad. “I’d say if he does, it’s his choice, wouldn’t you agree?” He asked softly.
“Yes, but—”
Fox gently interrupted. “We went bare our third night together, if I remember.”
“Babe, that’s—”
Again, Fox lightly interjected. “And he and Eric are both clean.”
Jake growled.
“Remember what I said, Leighton Jacob Foster-Hughes,” Fox spoke in an all too familiar tone that amused him to use. He spoke to Jake as his own father would speak to him when he wanted his son to remember what he was about to say.
And Jake listened.
“He can make those choices for himself,” Jake sighed. Fox gave him an affirming squeeze.
“Do you need me to remind you every day?”
Jake kissed Fox’s hand. It was sweet. “Only if I start to get scary, Foxy.”
“Good. Let’s talk about where we’re going to live.”
*** Eric
Eric would have been fine simply spending the day in Ben’s room, lazing about with his ridiculously energetic giant of a man. Clothes shopping could wait. Besides, it would have been a good way to mentally prepare for a day that held so many unknowns—things like his lycanthropy, the alchemic procedure that Fox and Jake wanted to try, how Ben would react to everything, even if this was something he would survive. But Fox and Jake seemed confident enough, and Ben would definitely be there if something went wrong.
So much to Eric’s surprise, Ben practically caveman carried him to the elevator on one arm, and with the other hand, summoned a ride on his phone. Eric fought and fidgeted, but Ben simply snickered, and wouldn’t actually put his man down until they got to the car.
A good part of their morning and early afternoon was spent jetting around Vegas, taking in the sights that could be seen by a pair of young men not yet old enough to drink. Ben practically dragged poor Eric to the Venetian and commanded him to sit still for a moment while he took care of something. With the hum of human din all around him, Eric couldn’t pick out what Ben was saying as he chatted with a vendor at a kiosk.
That something turned out to be a private gondola ride for the two of them outside in gorgeous daylight. The gondolier’s singing was underscored by the occasional nudge of Ben’s shoulder, or his words spoken only for Eric’s ears that one day, he would love to see the real Venice, kiss in the shade of the real Ponte del Rialto—and that would only happen with the both of them there.
Eric could have squealed. Or died. Instead he ducked his head and tucked himself under Ben’s protective arm.
The gondolier kept singing.
The two meandered from hotel to casino to hotel as they doubled back to the Paris, Las Vegas resort hotel. This time, Eric was in the know when Ben bought tickets for a popular attraction—seeing the Strip from the “Eiffel Tower” made specifically for the casino. They made plans to return to it that night, but Ben had one more stop in mind for them both.
Clothes shopping was never one of Eric’s strong suits. For one, he had so few clothes. For another, a lot of times, they’d only end up on the floor after a day of stocking dusty boxes or cleaning up grocery stores at night—or on unfortunate occasions, torn up by the rougher johns in his life.
So far, in their basket, there was a new belt, two nice pairs of shorts, a pair of blue jeans, and a pair of khakis. He also threw in a maroon Henley, a black button down dress shirt, and a three-pack of black tee shirts that were thick and comfortable. To cap it all off, Ben had Eric fitted with a nice pair of cross-trainers. While Eric put them on, Ben asked the clerk where the wastebasket was, and personally threw away the old shoes. Eric chuckled to himself.
Eric picked out a sky-blue button down dress shirt for Ben. To him, it brought out the blue in Ben’s eyes. The two shared a tender, lengthy kiss in the middle of the store over that observation. There was also a nice pair of black slacks. The two passed by the men’s underwear section, to which Ben comically rolled his eyes and moved onto socks instead.
Eric’s unintentional commando situation would likely haunt him (in good ways) unless necessity demanded otherwise. His Ben would have insisted.
His Ben. Was it too soon to think it? Maybe even say it?
Ben took the shopping basket to the cashier as Eric looked at a selection of neckties. He walked over after the final tally.
“I blew through half my graduation gift from Mr. and Mrs. S on us,” Ben grinned.
“Ben, that was for your school,” Eric said, guilt clogging his voice.
“No, it was for me, because I graduated. You don’t have to feel bad, baby. I only want to make you smile.”
Eric looked up at his tender tower of a man and gave him a soft smile. Ben’s own bright grin could have lit up the first floor of the hotel and every hotel surrounding it.
Eric and Ben took in a quick bite at a burger joint in the lobby designed for a more family-friendly approach, as the two hadn’t had the patience or the desire to try the fancier places yet. But it was just as well, with the bags of clothes they bought littering the space at their feet.
“Let’s go back upstairs. I’ll send these down to the laundry, so we’ll have ‘em before we head out tomorrow.” Ben took Eric’s hand in his big, warm one, tugging him close and cradling the shorter man against him as they left the quaint little posh fast food joint. Eric looked up at Ben, relishing in the warmth and strength of the big guy’s body, of his smile. Nothing Eric ever knew in his life felt quite like the man holding him close. Ben made himself Eric’s shield, and his friend, and—
Someone Eric actually loved.
Ben and Eric made their way to the lobby, then to the bay of private elevators that lead to individual suites. As they stepped into their assigned lift, the little guy waited until the doors were closed before he leapt into Ben’s arms, straddling the big guy who supported him with his large hands cupping the little guy’s ass. Eric shoved his tongue into the big guy’s mouth and tasted him, moaning into him. Ben held on to Eric for dear life, kissing him back with everything he had.
“Want you inside me,” Eric whispered. “Make me yours.”
Ben whimpered in his ear.
The elevator door opened, and Eric was still in Ben’s arms. Their purchases dangled precariously from individual digits as Ben held Eric close with one hand while opening doors with the other.
Fox was at the door as Ben strode by with Eric hanging off him.
“Hiya Ben—” was all Eric heard before he closed his bedroom door behind him.
Eric did hear Fox say, “Well, that answers what they’re doing this afternoon” before the redhead’s footsteps faded down the hall.
Ben lowered Eric onto the bed. He fumbled with his buttons as Ben fumbled with Eric’s pants. There was a frantic rush of clothes flying until the two were blessedly skin to skin from head to toe. They lay in each other’s arms, kissing and touching as if the world was ending in a hailstorm of flaming meteors the next day.
A hand slid up and down Eric’s chest. Ben must have been trying to memorize every curve, every muscle, every hair on Eric’s body. The little man went breathless when Ben’s large, rough hand gripped his length, coaxing him closer to the edge of release. He put his hands on Ben’s, shaking his head.
“I want to come with you in me,” Eric said. Ben’s nostrils flared, and he nodded. He shifted down to prep Eric when Ben saw him shaking his head again.
“I’m ready,” Eric said. “Just slick up and take me. Now.”
Eric thought he saw Ben’s breathing hitch. But the man reached off the bed to a nightstand where lube and condoms lay, snatching only the lube.
His beautiful sky blue eyes were trained on his own. Eric wanted to wake up to those eyes every morning.
Ben whispered, his voice trembling. “Are you sure you want this, E?”
Eric nodded, looking directly at Ben. “Want to feel you, nothing between us. I want you to make me yours.” What came out of Eric’s mouth next surprised him.
“I love you.”
Ben froze. Eric's body went tense with panic. Did he scare him? Was it too soon? Was he pulling away?
Eric’s panic gave way to a groan of sensual torment. His eyes rolled back as the blunt tip of Ben’s length pushed against him, into him. A steady stream of want in god so tight fuck hot yes let me in from the big guy’s mouth became the soundtrack to Eric’s pleasure. He whimpered with each inch and cried out when Ben finally bottomed out inside him.
There was a storm of kisses lavished on Eric—so much so he almost couldn’t breathe. But as Ben pressed his advance on two fronts, he thought his little heart would collapse on itself with his desire for the man deep inside him.
“Move, Ben. I need it.”
Ben nodded. He began thrusting. Short and shallow at first. But then came the deeper exploration. Ben pulled out completely. Then he sunk with a rough thrust until the thatch of hair above his thick dick touched with the underside of Eric’s balls. Each assault robbed Eric of breath, but he wanted more of what Ben gave him.
The little guy's legs were wrapped tight around Ben's hips. Ben continued his assault on two fronts, despite the glistening sheen of sweat over both of their bodies, and the whimpers coming from Eric’s soft, warm mouth. Then Eric saw it on Ben and sensed it on himself. The heat that radiated from the base of his spine had moved upward. His chest and neck and face must have been beet red at this point, while Ben fared much the same.
Eric tried to commit it to memory, how this man looked, how he felt, how he tasted. Ben’s hands toyed with his dick. Each swipe of his thumb across the base of his crown was electricity at the base of his spine that made every nerve ending from his dick to his brain dance like a fallen live wire in the rain. As much as Eric needed it to go on, the sensations built to a head—the storm bucked the dam, and suddenly everything was supernovas and flashing lights. Eric’s release exploded from him. It painted the space between them with random spatters. Some spilled over Ben’s strong fingers.
Ben kept pulling pleasure out of Eric until he reared his head back and screamed th
rough his teeth. The warm flood of Ben’s climax filled him. His tower of a man gave him everything he had.
Eric watched Ben in a haze as the big man looked down at his essence-coated fingers. It took Eric’s breath away when Ben cleaned off his fingers with his mouth. He made a sensual display of sucking and licking that threatened to make Eric painfully hard all over again. Then Ben lurched forward, sharing the taste of Eric’s release with the young man who made it. He was still inside Eric, and now he licked and lapped at Eric’s mouth playfully, deeply, entirely.
Eric held Ben close. He relished the feel of the sweat-slicked expanse of the deeply defined ridges of Ben’s back—each shift and bunch of the bundles of strands of muscles beneath his fingertips. He licked Ben’s thick neck, planting little kisses from one side to the other.
When Ben finally pulled out, Eric could have cried at the loss. But he still had Ben inside him, which made his heart sing.
Ben collapsed to his side, facing Eric. He was sweaty and a touch ripe, but that didn’t matter to Eric. To him, all he smelled was the salty breeze of the ocean. The wolf within chose this moment to surface, scenting the air in his mind. With the act of Eric taking Ben’s essence within him, the wolf paced. Feelings of protection, of warmth, of belonging suffused the river of his emotions.
The wolf knew Eric found his mate—and Eric couldn’t fight the feeling.
“Eric, look at me, please.”
Eric turned onto his side. Ben pulled him nearer, forcing Eric to look up at the man. He could see the words forming on Ben’s mouth, but it took a few moments for him to actually voice them.
“You love me?”
Eric nodded. A veil of uncertainty fell across Ben’s face—a look Eric found disheartening. It reminded him of the fact that while Ben might have been nothing less than a superhero to him, he was also a very human being, vulnerable to the most basic of fears and doubts laid bare.
“Do you want to be with me?”
“Yes,” Eric whispered. “Yes.”
“You won’t leave me, will you?”
An incredibly loaded question. Coming from a person who had to watch someone he loved leave him and leave him and leave him again, Eric knew that this was something—someone—he couldn’t ever back away from.