Quiet Burn (Discordia University #2)

Build Me Up Buttercup

Xerxes

W hen Slash stomped in with Kit slung over his shoulder, my heart skipped a fucking beat. I looked to Anton immediately knowing that his expression would help fight off the panic of seeing our new member being carted like a sack of laundry.

Thank fuck his face told me everything was okay—mostly.

Once everyone settled in, they told the outlandish tale of Kit and the Bone Tree, and now... well, now everyone is throwing out theories about the odd reaction of the damn thing. I figure whatever it means will become clear, eventually, so I’m focused on how uncomfortable Kit looks as people are debating who or what he is. I’ve been there, and it’s no fun. Pressing my lips together, I stand up and hold my hands out.

“Wait.”

All eyes fly to me and I arch a brow. “This is definitely strange, I agree, but you guys are making KitKat shrink to a damn ball over there. How did you miss that?”

The guy flushes as I call attention to him sitting with his knees up and his chin on them, the tiny kinkajou perched on his head like a furry hat. It’s like he’s made to do the cutest fucking things possible without even trying and I have no idea how to react beyond wanting to just snuggle him until he feels safe. Anton gives me a fond look and I shrug slightly, not wanting to draw attention to how squishy I’m feeling.

“He’s fine,” Jasper says with an eye roll. “No one was being mean or insulting. Stop being dramatic, X.”

Zav pinches his leg, making the Prince yelp and look down with a narrowed gaze. I grin when the kitsune hides in his tails again, but doesn’t apologize. “We don’t want to make Kit uncomfortable, especially after he had an attack recently, right?”

The dragon grumbles something, and I take that as my cue to steer the conversation away from the rampant speculation for a bit. “I think we should deal with our outfits for this Devil’s Night deal. It’s Friday night, we don’t have classes until Monday, and I have work to do.”

“That’s a great idea, love,” Annie says. He rolls to his feet, looking at Slash. “Perhaps we should order some food while X measures Kit?”

A panicked expression floods his face and Kit seems to get even smaller in the huge chair. “N-n-no, I think I’ll be fine in my?—”

“You will not be fine in your uni, KK,” Salem says gently. “It’s fancy and we all have to deal with that.”

“But I will take you to your room to do the measuring. You won’t even need to take off more than your jacket, I promise. I’m very good at this shit.” I give him a reassuring look, hoping he agrees. He’s gotten comfortable enough with Oriel, Slash, and Salem to allow touch, and for some reason, I desperately want to be included.

Especially since Annie kissed him in fucking Arms class and I’m jelly he got there first.

Kit licks his lips, looking around for a moment, then uncurls his limbs. “Okay. If we can go somewhere more private and I can stay... dressed. It’s fine.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, I smile brightly and gesture to the closed door. “Then off we go. We’ll leave the nutrition to the rest of these fools while I get the first step in designing your perfect fit checked off.”

The uncertain look in his eyes worries me, but I know I can make him feel safe—after all, I know how it feels to be uncomfortable in your own skin.

“So, I don’t need to touch you much physically,” I say as I carefully measure around his spread arms. Once Kit was able to stand still without looking like he was going to puke, I had him assume the position so I’d have access to the important measurement areas. “This is your wrists, obviously.”

He nods quietly as I rattle the numbers off to the voice recorder on my phone. “That’s not terrible. I’m not as sensitive when it’s... pretty normal areas. I get less calm when it’s... personal parts.”

I snort, giving him a wry look. “You can say you’re going to panic when I get near your junk, man.”

His eyes widen and he shakes his head. “Um, not just... there. Inner legs, rear, chest... I have reasons, but I’ll do my best not to have an episode.”

Fuck this poor kid is breaking my heart—what the hell did that slimy human do to him?

“Okay, I’ll just be slow, gentle, and try to narrate as I go, regardless of where I am. Does that help?”

“Yes,” he breathes shakily. Dottie is sitting close, watching him with intelligent eyes as he struggles with his inner turmoil.

“Arms and shoulders next. I’m going to walk around you while I do it.” I hum under my breath, hoping to ease his tension while I get the most slight measurements I’ve ever taken for someone in our group. Once I repeat them all for the phone, I face Kit with an arched brow. “Based on your frame I have a lot of options. Are you sure you want to trust me to do... whatever I want?”

He’d said that after we got into the room and I was shocked. Only Annie lets me do whatever; the other guys always guide me if I get to design anything for them. Since their families often make deals about their appearances, it’s not frequent or anything, but I enjoy dressing us as a caliphate. Kit, however, just gave me carte blanche without batting a lash, and that’s almost better than his comfort with touch with the others.

“I’m sure. You have a really interesting flair, and everything you wear is awesome,” he looks at me as I kneel down, preparing to do the seams. “So I know you’ll make something great and it will look good on me.”

Grinning, I hold the tape up carefully. “Outer leg first, then inner leg. I’ll be very careful to touch as little as possible. Are you ready?” He nods, swallowing hard, and I stretch the tape from his hip to his ankle. “I will, but you know that I don’t... conform to traditional norms. If I get wild, will it upset you?”

His legs are trembling a little and I can smell fear on him, but he’s definitely holding his ground. “Honestly? With this damn tree stuff and everything else? I’m not going to be able to avoid people looking at me angrily for something or other. Do whatever—it can’t possibly make me less popular.”

“Moving to the inseam now. Stay calm,” I murmur, then look up seriously. “But there’s going to be girls at this thing. You sure you’re not wanting to be all ‘James Bond’ or sexy emo guy to lure them?”

As I call out the measurements again, he turns red and shakes his head. “No fucking way. I’m not... I’d prefer that not be a thing. So don’t worry.”

My lips curve up at his answer.

Couldn’t have put it better myself, Kit Kat.

“Get your butts out here!”

Kit looks at me from where we’re seated on the bed looking at the quick sketches I’ve been making. He’s actually looking excited, and it makes me warm all over. Even Annie won’t let me go this far, and I’m feeling tingly with anticipation. My snake is slithering around inside of me, dancing about in anticipation of getting to do things we love exactly how we love to do them.

Of all the guys, Oriel and I tend to be most influenced by the emotions of our animals more than primal desires.

“Salem sounds like he’s going to barrel through the door if we don’t get moving,” he says with a small grin. “Thanks for… putting up with my shit, by the way.”

I frown. “Kit Kat, your issues are no bigger than the ones we all have. You haven’t been here long enough to see most of them, outside of Jasper’s temper and Zav’s need for approval. But you will, and when you do, you’ll get why everyone is totally fine with accommodating you.”

“How the fuck are demons better at this than humans?” he mutters. “I mean, it seems ass backwards, right?”

“It’s not about species, necessarily. It’s about being a goddamn asshole, and you’ve been surrounded by huge ones, it seems.” His laugh makes my chest tighten and I have to set my tablet aside and stand up. “You’re right about Salem, though. Especially because he thinks you’re a Fae.”

Kit rolls his eyes. “Hardly. I’m not delicate, pretty, colorful, or glittery.”

“Ah, but you could and will be,” I say with a wink. “Don’t discount your ability to pull off the look.”

The new guy ducks his head, shrugging as he gets to his feet and scoops up Dottie. “We will see. It’s totally new for me—even for up there—so you’re going to need to help me do all the things.”

“I promise,” I say as I open his door and we head into the main room. The smells lingering there are delicious and I spin to look at Jasper. “You ordered Damnation Pies? Seriously? Holy shit, Kit Kat!”

He stops on his way to his big chair, eyes wide. “What’s the big deal about… pizza?”

Oriel comes over to us, grabbing Kit’s hand and tugging him to his spot. “Because Damnation Pies is a demon owned shop from your lands and it’s a goddamn trial to get them to deliver despite the fact that their owners are portal-capable demons.”

“So it’s… earth… ingredients?”

I stroll over with my tablet in hand, plopping down on the floor at his feet so he can see while I work. “It’s both . And Jasper probably pulled some serious royal mojo to get those fuckers to bring it.”

Kit looks around the room, his face confused. “Why?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, shrimp. Just say ‘thank you’ and let Salem bring your shit over.” His grumble is irritable, but there’s something that sounds like regret underneath the ire.

I think he’s sorry about the class bullshit; his eyes have been tracking the slow movement and how the rest of us are helping Kit get from place to place.

“Don’t be pissy,” Slash says as he walks over with a tray of options for Kit to try. Salem is following with one his Fae fizzy drinks he makes, and I shoot a knowing look at Annie. He shrugs, grinning back at me.

“His legs work,” our leader mutters as he flops into his chair, followed by Zav carrying their food. “You’re all acting like Furon crippled him.”

“Dr. D said to rest.”

The shark shifter doesn’t have to say much more before Jasper sighs and tips his head back to look up at the ceiling in supplication. “Fuck, it makes me insane that even you are entranced like this.”

“Ah, Jasper. The last man standing on a roof hoping the tidal wave doesn’t hit him in a disaster movie. So tragically obtuse,” Oriel snarks before sitting down next to Salem. “Keep holding out, man. It won’t make everything harder later.”

I’ll be damned; the crow is always salty, but that was a direct hit. Battleship sunk.

“Fuck off, thief,” he retorts.

Oriel’s eyes widen and he grins. “Shit. Speaking of that…” he shoves his hand into his pocket, rummaging around and Kit stares in fascination as it expands. “…I found the perfect thing when I was… uh, doing my thing.”

“Is his pocket like Mary Poppins’ bag?”

I nod, watching Oriel continue to grope the big, bulging cloth. “It’s this weird pocket portal he stores his temporary horde in. No one has a damn clue how the corvids hybrid demons do it. He shoves stuff in there until he finds the perfect place to put it in his room.”

“I’m scared to ask what his room looks like,” Kit says, still watching in fascination.

“You should be.”

Kit grins at Slash, then picks up one of the Vampire Repellent Cheesy Garlic Knots to take a bite. The sound he makes should be illegal and not one person is looking at Oriel’s fidgeting afterward. In fact, everyone is damn near on the edge of their chair when he wipes his mouth and looks sheepish. “This is fucking amazing. Fuck me.”

The room is silent until Oriel pulls his hand out and holds up a shining platinum crown. “Ah-ha. Here it is. Would it work for the dance, X?”

Oh yeah. I forgot to mention the headwear our caliphate will have to don—that’s going to get me in trouble.