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Warm, everything was warm. Soft light floated in through the window over the bed. Even through closed eyelids I could perceive the nacarat hues of the golden hour. Swimming up to consciousness was a slow, peaceful breach with the sun on my face, and a warm body at my back--
My eyes snapped open. Languor vanished as I realized we were spooning, Evan’s arm thrown over my waist. During the night he must have rolled ove. I didn’t remember falling asleep, only staring up at the ceiling determined not to move. So much for that.
I had mowed down entire rooms of the Damned, fearlessly infiltrated nest after nest, but none of my training had prepared me for something like this. Maybe I could slip out of bed and make a break for the bathroom. I had a certain morning issue to deal with, and the feel (and smell) of Evan all around me was not helping.
Heat was creeping up my face, and this time I knew no amount of breathing exercises would make it stop. What on Hyle was I going to do?
And then he yawned, rolling over to stretch, making those lip-smacking noises people make before they’re fully awake. With his arm off my middle, I could finally move. I just had to sneak away before he…
“Morning,” Evan rumbled.
...woke up. Oh, Josh.
“Mo--” I squeaked, and had to clear my throat. “Morning.”
“Want the bathroom first?” he asked.
“Nope.” There was absolutely no possible way I could pull back the blankets right now. “You go ahead.”
“Sure?”
“Yes.”
And then he just lay there! Stretching some more, scratching his belly. Dad and I always woke with the dawn for training, so I wasn’t prepared for Evan to be a slow riser. Finally, he rolled out of bed, grabbed some clothes, and shuffled out of the room.
The second the door swung shut, I threw back the covers and pulled down my obscenely tented underwear. There was no time to think about what I was doing. I had no idea how long Evan took in the morning, and he could return at any moment. So I took myself in hand, furiously striping off like I needed the friction to start a campfire. This wasn’t about enjoying myself, just getting to a neutral state with a quickness.
Even so, I couldn’t deny that the intensity felt good. So good that there had been no reason to worry about the time. Biting my fist to muffle any noises, I came. My whole body froze, knees locking, toes curling as I blasted all over my chest. For a moment, all I could do was lie there trying to catch my breath.
Then the shame rolled over me in waves. Feeling sick to my stomach, I stripped off my soiled shirt. What was wrong with me, stroking one out to my (straight) partner like some kind of perv?
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
I held my left hand up over my face. Trailing my finger over the bandaid he’d stuck on my palm, I felt even worse remembering how adamant he’d been about it. Of course he wasn’t just beautiful, he was kind. How would he feel about what I had just done?
He could never, ever know about this. No matter what it took, I would stamp out these feelings out with everything I had. We were trained to dampen our emotions on jobs anyway, how different could it be?
By the time Evan returned I was already dressed, sitting on the bed lacing up my boots. My old t-shirt was bunched up and stuffed in the very bottom of an unused pocket of my bag.
“Took you long enough,” I poked, all natural.
He shrugged, not all bothered. “Never said I was a morning person.”
When he’d opened the door, the smell of something wonderful had wafted in.
“Who’s cooking down there?” I asked, getting up.
“Beni, I think,” he said.
“Didn’t know she could cook.”
We headed downstairs. Sure enough, Beni was captaining the stove.
“Morning, sleeping beauties,” she said. “How’d you sleep?”
“Smells good, Ben.” I ignored her crack at us. If I told her I’d been awake she might want to know why I hadn’t come down sooner.
“Don’t get used to it,” she said. “I hate cooking.”
“We can take turns,” I said. “I can cook, too.”
She and Evan shared a look.
“I’ll get it tomorrow,” he said.
I glared at them. They both pretended not to notice.
“Good morning, brethren,” said Espy as she entered the kitchen.
We all greeted her as she sat at the head of the table.
“Fresh squeezed OJ?” Beni slid me a tall glass of orange juice with my plate.
I stared down at it. “Did you really?”
She laughed. “No, dude. There’s a jug in the fridge.”
“Eat up, Seth,” said Espy over Beni’s antics. “You’ll need your energy for today. There’s a campus tour early this afternoon. When you’re done giving blood you and Beni should check it out, get a feel for the place. Maybe something strange will stick out to you.”
Despite my...weird morning, I was ready to start this mission. I may not know much about how to handle feelings, but tracking down leeches was a snap.
“I’m ready,” I said, digging in.
“I’ve sent the address of the blood donation center to your phone, Evan,” she went on. “While you take Seth there, Beni and I will visit the town library. They may have files in their archives that aren’t available online. I’m trying to construct a more complete timeline of the town, but there are a few gaps in the public records. We’ll have to go through things by hand.”
Beni leaned in and whispered, “Trade ya.”
“Sorry, Beni,” I said. “Only my blood has that little extra zing that makes ‘em sing.”
“Party pooper,” she grumbled. “How about you, Ev? I remember how you love all that bookish sh--”
“Bendis.”
“--tuff.”
“It would be an honor and a privilege.” He nodded at Espy. “But since it’s our first official mission, I should probably stick with Seth.”
“Rightfully so.” Espy still had Beni fixed in her sights. “And I believe you’re more than capable of reading old newspapers.”
Groaning, Beni flopped her head down on the table. Her aunt threw her eyes heavenward as if praying for strength.
I patted Beni on the back. “There, there.”
She flipped me off under the table where Espy couldn’t see it.
We finished breakfast, cleaned up, and hit the road. It was finally time to see this Rossberg for myself. Hopefully it was worth the thirty mile drive. Everything around here seemed miles and miles apart, but I suppose that was common in rural areas.
At last we got close enough to see the town, and a large wooden sign just before. ROSSBERG, it said, The jewel of the mountains. That was all. Didn’t most entry signs say “Welcome to” or “Enjoy your stay” or something like that?
“That’s kinda weird.”
Evan glanced over at me.
“Aren’t small towns supposed to be hospitable--”
Just as we passed the sign, a siren split the air. Blue-and-raspberry lights flickered to life behind us. A cop car had been waiting behind the unwelcoming sign.