Chapter Thirty-Eight #2
“Laurence will come around eventually,” Trevor reassured him.
“He just needs the chance to see that you’re okay.
He’s hardly slept this entire time, so he’s going to be in better form once he’s not worried sick and sleep-deprived.
” The walk through the town was quiet. A grey mound caught Nick’s eye as they passed the church.
There was a pile of ash in the yard, curls of smoke wisping from the edges.
Nick had worried what would become of the dead god in the well. He’d wondered if the well would be repaired and refilled, that magic water recreated. He’d almost expected Kit to tell him that Valor was getting ready to start selling the water to cement his power as the new leader of Aridia.
Instead, Valor had dragged both the old god and Desre from the well and burned their bodies.
Nick stepped up to Kit’s door and raised his hand to knock. The door swung open before his knuckles touched the wood. Kit was in the doorway, tail slashing into a violent hook as he laid eyes on Nick.
“Sorry I took so long, I didn’t mean to leave you waiting. Do you mind if my dad comes in for some tea?”
Kit nodded stiffly, anxiety flashing across his face.
Nick worried about it. He stepped in close, stopping just shy of touching Kit’s side.
He let his hand slide lower, fingers caressing Kit’s tail as he raised it into reach.
At the touch, Kit met Nick’s eyes, and Nick offered a reassuring smile.
“I wanted to introduce you two. You don’t speak a common language, so I’ll translate. ”
Kit nodded his understanding and inclined his head towards Trevor as he entered the house. “I am Kit. Nick has told me about you; you are welcome here.”
Nick relayed that to Trevor, who cast him a neutral smile.
“You said that in my language,” Kit said after an awkward few seconds of silence.
“Oh.” Nick repeated it.
Kit’s tail flicked up, tapping the back of Nick’s thighs. “That is still my language.”
By attempt number five, Nick was scowling, Kit was patiently telling him that he wasn’t translating anything, and Trevor had clearly realised that Nick was trying to talk to him.
“I guess we’ll have to stick to Connor for translating,” Trevor said with good humour.
“Kit, right?” he addressed Kit with a friendly smile.
“I recognised that much at least. I’m Trevor, Nick’s dad.
” Trevor reached through the space between them, offering a hand.
Kit’s tail froze mid-air, eyes flashing towards the outstretched limb.
Nick caught his dad’s wrist and pushed it back, making a sharp no gesture. “It’s fine, Kit, he’s not going to touch you.” He immediately moved his attention back to Kit to reassure him. “It’s common for Irish people to shake hands when they meet, but not necessary at all.”
Kit’s leather gloves creaked as he flexed his fingers. “I can shake his hand,” he said, determined.
“I don’t want you to,” Nick objected. Even if Kit was willing to power through, Nick knew Kit didn’t want to touch Trevor. Or rather, he didn’t want Trevor to touch him. “Can we sit in and make tea? I’ll try and figure this out.”
Kit breathed out, something distinctly relieved in the sound. He nodded and went ahead.
Nick turned to Trevor. He tapped his own hand and made a no gesture.
Trevor nodded. “Got it. I didn’t mean to upset him.”
They followed Kit into the kitchen, where he had tea brewing on the stove. While it boiled, Nick made a few more attempts to talk to Trevor, but the words just wouldn’t come out in English.
“I guess it’s more important that Kit understands you than me,” Trevor teased.
Nick went completely still. He blinked. Looked at Kit, who returned his look with a puzzled one. “What did he say?”
“What my problem is,” Nick said, and somehow, he knew that was exactly what the issue was. “I’m subconsciously prioritising you understanding me.”
Kit’s head canted to the side. His tail had begun to swish in a relaxed manner while Nick tried to figure out what was going on. “I do not mind if you speak in a language I can’t understand. Many times you say words that I have never heard before.”
“I think that only happens when there’s no equivalent word in your language. And I’m not doing it on purpose.” Nick sighed. “This is going to be a very quiet meeting.”
Kit led them to the dining room and placed down three cups of steaming hot tea. “Do you have many prospective workers ready for Nick to train?” Kit asked as he set down Trevor’s cup in front of him.
Nick’s own laughter caught him off guard.
Kit’s eyes gleamed when they flicked towards Nick. He pushed a seat close to Nick and sat, wrapping his tail around his abdomen. Tightly. Nick inclined his head towards Kit, well aware that question was a pointed jab at him.
“I’ll be sure to repeat that for him later.”
“Do.” Kit sipped his tea. “I have trained many people. I will give you some tips on how to quicken the process before you depart.”
“I’m not sure I need to inspire the same devotion you do from your students, but I’d be open to hearing how you get them to listen to you so well. You have a knack for making people want to impress you.”
Trevor cleared his throat, half coughing. He set aside the cup, trying to hide a grimace. Nick grinned. “Too bitter?”
Given that they couldn’t exactly communicate, Nick decided that they’d have better luck asking Connor to translate in the morning.
And when Nick said as much to Kit, Mini materialised from the next room and gestured for Trevor to follow him.
“Mini will lead him to your ship,” Kit said.
He inclined his head toward Trevor in a friendly, open gesture. “Goodnight.”
Trevor caught on quickly, saying, “He’ll show me back?”
Nick nodded. “Night Dad.”
“Trevor.” Mini said, with a distinct accent and a proud look.
Trevor raised a brow. “Mini,” he guessed correctly.
Mini’s tail swished and he brushed his tail against Trevor’s leg, encouraging him out of the room.
Kit held on to Nick with his tail, not meeting his eyes until Trevor was out of the building, and then he did so with a slightly guilty air.
“I was already planning on staying the night,” Nick told him.
Kit’s guilty look slid away, a pleased one replacing it.
“I am sorry I took so long. Bed?”
Kit watched patiently when Nick double-checked the lock of the door, then glued himself to Nick, nearly head-butting him with his pushiness to curl up against him.
It was warm in the house, but Nick didn’t object to Kit’s body heat against him.
He carefully adjusted his position so his injured arm rested in the crook of Kit’s neck.
Kit pressed his mouth to Nick’s throat, lapping with his tongue, lightly scent-marking.
Nick hummed, enjoying the feeling.
“Tell me your training plan,” Kit asked.
Nick chuckled. “Kit.”
“We may be able to shorten it,” Kit insisted. “The other aspects of the timeline are set; this one may vary.”
“Fine. I’ll talk you through it.” And Nick did, though Kit became far more interested in learning all about the coffee machine, how it worked and what exactly it did rather than finessing Nick’s training techniques.
Nick happily segued into discussing everything he knew about coffee—from growing to brewing, falling asleep mid-sentence with his face nestled into Kit’s hair.