Hold my Reins (Monster Match season two)

Chapter 12

twelve

“ S o what are we making?” Rox placed a bottle of white wine on the kitchen table. He’d asked Lynck what to bring and had gone to the bottle shop to grab it. The wine was one he remembered his mother drinking between cancer battles…one he’d helped her drink on more than one occasion, even though he’d been underage.

“Fish pasta. I discovered I love pasta. And back home, we ate mostly fish and vegetables and flatbreads, so this is similar to a fish dish from home.”

“You didn’t have pasta?”

“Not where I lived. Maybe in other areas, there was something similar. It’s a lot less effort to tip pasta into boiling water than to make flatbreads.”

“I will have to take your word for that because I have never made flatbread. But I can boil water and make pasta.” He might be able to throw together a fish sauce to go serve with the pasta if he had a recipe to follow, but Lynck did not have a recipe book out.

Unlike him, Lynck had dressed up for the date. He wore a pale gray shirt and darker gray pants. But the pants were not in a style that was human, and they were decorated along the outer seam and around the cuff with silver and green stitching as if they had been made to match his white and gray dappled hair and the green streaks through his tail and mane. A waistcoat in several shades of green completed the outfit, and the effect was arresting.

Meanwhile, he’d put on the now clean mesh shirt—because Lynck liked it—and a short-sleeved black shirt over the top, along with his usual black jeans. He’d added a cuff bracelet that had been his mother’s and a black leather one that he’d picked up at a craft fair. It had been her first outing after completing treatment the first time. One of those stupid fall festivals with pumpkins and cider and too many children. But she’d wanted to go, and he’d wanted to spend time with her away from the fucking hospital.

“I really need to level up my wardrobe.” Rox ran his fingers over the front of the waistcoat.

“I like what you’re wearing. You chose something that represents you, and I did the same. Aski makes traditional monster clothing…or as close as they can. I thought it appropriate for a more traditional date.”

“I feel like I should’ve worn a suit, not that I own one.”

“Why would you choose to wear something that doesn’t represent you on a date where you want the other person to get to know you?”

Rox ran his fingers through his hair, which he had left out. Where did he start? “Some people don’t like the way I dress. Too much black, too much nail polish, and my hair is too long. Most humans put on a front for the first few dates, so the person doesn’t walk away immediately.”

Lynck frowned. “Wouldn’t it be better if they did instead of lying about who they are and wasting time?”

“Yeah, you’d think so, but that’s not how it works. That’s why sometimes it’s better to hook-up first… You can’t hide much when you’re both naked. And how someone treats a random stranger is very telling.”

Lynck landed in and kissed him. “So you like the way I treat you?”

Rox’s cheeks heated. “I wouldn’t have wanted more if I didn’t. You listened to me…like when I said I wanted to face you.”

Lynck stared at him. “Why wouldn’t I listen to someone I’m sharing a bed with, even if it is only for a night? Is it not more fun for everyone?”

“Yeah…but often that’s not how it goes.” And now he’d said it out loud, he realized how bad that sounded. “It wasn’t only that. You’re gorgeous, and I enjoy spending time with you. Despite getting sand everywhere.”

Lynck laughed and swished his tail, which was loose tonight. “You didn’t have to brush it out of your tail.”

“I’d be worried if I suddenly had a tail.”

Lynck gave his ass a squeeze and dropped another kiss on his lips. “I like your ass the way it is. Do you want to pour the wine while I start?”

Rox found the glasses and poured while Lynck got out the ingredients. He followed Lynck’s instructions, liking the way they either accidentally or deliberately bumped into each other. The touch that brushed across his hip, the kiss on his temple. The much slower kiss that left him hungry for more as they waited for the salmon and pasta to cook.

He noticed Lynck’s ears were more expressive than his face. The direction they faced and the angle gave clues Rox had been ignoring because he wasn’t used to looking for them. Then there was his tail. It wasn’t decorative, but it also revealed how Lynck was feeling.

He needed to learn a whole other language to learn how to read Lynck. No, that wasn’t quite right. He needed to learn new words. He wanted to learn, and he didn’t want to be the reason Lynck decided humans weren’t worth the hassle.

But at the same time, he couldn’t imagine Lynck staying with him.

No one stayed.

Starting with his father.

He needed to make the effort to be different. But his mother had always said that he should be himself, not change for anyone, because that was her mistake.

Lynck cupped Rox’s cheek. “A cloud crossed your face.”

“Huh?”

“Your smile vanished, like a cloud crossing the sun and turning the day cold.”

His lips curved as Lynck explained the phrase. “I was just thinking. Cooking with you made me remember…”

It wasn’t the entire truth, but it was enough. He hadn’t done this with anyone except Mom. “I have put time and distance between…but it’s like every memory I create links to something in the past, and the past still casts a shadow. I thought I’d moved on.”

“And maybe you had while you traveled, but now you are trying to settle in a new town, and everything is a reminder of the last time you had a home.”

Rox nodded. “What about you? When did you move past what happened?”

He needed to know that it was possible. That there’d be a time when he didn’t connect and compare the present to the past.

Lynck shook his head. “I’m not sure I have. Some things cast a long shadow, and while the intensity lessens so the sun can break through, there is still darkness. I’ll never forget, and I’m not sure I want to, but the memories don’t hurt the way they did, and the anger no longer exists.”

The first time Mom had cancer, he’d been angry. Angry that he had to deal with it, angry at her and the world. The second time, there’d only been exhaustion. “It’s an ache that catches me off guard when it shouldn’t.”

“You like cooking, and you did it with her. It’s natural that you join the two together. I put this together because the flavors remind me of something my father cooked, though I’m not sure what he’d make of the pasta.” Lynck’s nose bumped against his, then he pulled away. “It must be almost done.”

“Why do you do that?”

“What?” Lynck plucked out a spiral and bit into it, testing if the pasta was cooked. He nodded to himself and picked up the pot.

“The nose rub thing.”

“You don’t like it?”

“I didn’t say that. It’s different.” It was weirdly intimate without anything that could be called intimate happening.

Lynck drained the pasta, keeping a little of the water and adding to the ingredients that were to form the sauce. “Humans like to kiss, but among kelpies, the nuzzle is more common in both forms. I can stop?—”

“No. I don’t want you to change.”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not. It was curiosity, and I don’t want to misconstrue and read things wrong. Like with your ears… They move around a lot, and the way they sit means something.”

Lynck raised one eyebrow, and the same ear turned. “Yes, but like your facial expressions, my ear movement isn’t conscious unless I’m pulling a face.” He scowled, flattening his ears and narrowing his eyes.

Rox’s heart kicked over for the wrong reason as there was a ferocity in Lynck’s glare that settled in the pit of his stomach, as though some kind of primal fear had woken.

“Is that your battle face?” His voice sounded steady, even as his pulse became erratic.

Lynck smiled, and the harshness evaporated like a puddle in the middle of summer. “It was. Also my, ‘we’re about to close, and you and your friends want to sit down for coffee? Oh, hell no, you get takeout cups’ face. It’s very effective.”

“Yeah. I can see that.” He doubted he’d even get his order out. He wanted to ask about the battle that had resulted in Lynck’s capture and what happened after, but he guessed that whoever had caught him had wanted a fancy kelpie horse. Maybe they didn’t have actual horses in the monster realm, so the only option was to catch a kelpie.

Lynck dished up into two large bowls. “It’s not exactly like home, mostly because I can’t find the same herbs and such, but it’s passable.”

“Fusion cuisine. A monster vibe with human ingredients.”

“Exactly.” Lynck smiled.

“It smells amazing and better than anything I could cook in the monster realm. I wouldn’t even know what’s safe to eat.” That didn’t stop him from being curious about what it was like over there.

“Or what will eat you.”

Rox glanced at him, not sure if he was joking or not. From the look on Lynck’s face, Rox was one hundred percent sure that he wasn’t. “Which monsters eat people?”

“Some monsters eat anything that isn’t their own kind.” He paused, head tilted. “That’s a lie. Some will also eat their own kind. The monsters here are the ones who are most human-like, who want similar experiences. The military will not allow carnivorous predators through.”

“Yay.” He didn’t need those nightmares. The possibility of hungry monsters coming through for tasty human snacks hadn’t occurred to him, and there he was, living on the portal’s doorstep.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” Lynck picked up the bowls and carried them to the table, and Rox followed with the glasses.

“I’m not scared. But I hadn’t considered what might be on the other side.”

“Did you think there was a town with a shopping mall?”

“No. Some kind of village?” He wasn’t sure what the monster world was like. Were there cities and malls?

“Please, eat,” Lynck said.

Rox looked at the food and then at Lynck. “Thank you for inviting me over and going to all this trouble.”

Lynck smiled as if that was the best thing Rox could’ve said. “I am glad you appreciate my efforts and that you wanted to be here with me. Please, you are the guest.”

“There is no one else I want to be having dinner with.” He picked up his fork, broke off some salmon, and ate it. It was sweet and salty and not at all what he was expecting.

He chewed, and Lynck watched as if waiting for a reaction.

“It’s different but really tasty.” He stabbed some of the green sauce-drenched pasta and popped it in his mouth. That had some unexpected heat, and the combination of seasonings was different from anything he’d ever eaten. Because he’d never eaten monster-fusion food. “Do you cook like this often?”

Lynck shook his head. “Thursten doesn’t really like it—too spicy for him. Sometimes, I’ll make up a batch of sauce and cook fresh fish each day.”

Rox grinned. “Is this the one thing you can cook?”

“No. Just my favorite and the one you were most likely to eat. Jellied fish and salted flatbreads don’t seem to feature on human menus.”

“Uh, no. Do you only eat fish?”

“I have tried chicken. But I try to eat similar foods to what I had at home because I don’t know if eating a more human diet will make me ill from the lack of nutrients. Thursten says I have my food saltier than him, and I assume most humans. I used less today, as I can add more to my food.”

Rox’s eyebrows pulled together. “I hadn’t considered nutrition.”

“Neither did I when I first arrived.” Lynck started eating.

Rox smiled. He was having dinner…that he’d helped cook…with someone. Something he wouldn’t have believed possible even a few months ago. That it was a monster sitting opposite him didn’t bother him at all. Lynck was possibly the nicest man he’d ever met, and he wasn’t putting on an act or trying to prove himself.

It all felt too easy, too right.

Which meant he expected the other shoe to drop and for something to go wrong. The thought cast a shadow over his delight, as though he wasn’t allowed to be happy. Maybe he ruined everything. After all, he was the common element.

Lynck talked a bit about farming and cooking with his herd. And even though he’d been snatched away during a battle, he looked back fondly as though he didn’t blame his herd for not coming to rescue him. Had they tried and failed? How would Lynck know if they had?

“Do you want to tell me about some of your childhood, or are the memories too raw?”

Rox frowned and finished his glass of wine. “I can talk about it. I don’t think about it much because everything else took over. While you had fields and rivers to play in, I had asphalt basketball courts—I was never good at it, as I was always one of the shortest in my class.”

He talked a bit more about primary school, telling funny stories and explaining bits to Lynck that he didn’t quite understand. And in exchange, Lynck shared stories of growing up with his herd.

It was only as they cleared the table that Rox wondered if Lynck wanted him to stay the night.