10. Chapter 10 #2
Gabe’s brow furrowed. “You don’t need to feel guilty. I’m a grown adult. It’s okay to be attracted to me for fucks sake,” Gabe insisted, a frustrated look on his face.
Cyrus took a slow breath. “I…I know you’re grown, I—” He shook his head.
Gabe blinked.
“You’re… That’s not why you feel guilty, is it?” he asked.
Cyrus looked up into Gabe’s face and saw the confusion there.
“Why do you feel guilty?” Gabe asked.
Cyrus took a shaky breath and backed over to the door. Without saying anything else, he unlocked it and headed out. Thankfully no one else was in the hallway, though he was uncertain if anyone had heard what happened in the bathroom in general.
As he headed back to his room, he felt a wave of both anxiety and relief rush over him.
The pleasure he had received was much needed, but he felt like a hot ball was forming in his stomach, burning him from the inside out with guilt and conflict.
Was it because he had taken care of Gabe many years before that he felt guilty for their attraction now? Or was it something else?
It had been years since Cyrus had felt quite so passionate with anyone.
He had flings here and there, of course, those he met up within the night and had a steamy, sweaty time with, but something was different about the way he felt when he was pressed against Gabe—kissing him, rocking against him so damn perfectly.
Cyrus growled softly, and his hands balled into fists. He sat down on the edge of his bed and looked down at his lap. His shorts were wet. He was still damp and sweaty, but someone else had been in the downstairs bathroom, and Gabe was upstairs.
They needed to invest in turning another room into a bathroom. Fuck.
Half an hour later, he heard the bathroom door open, and he rushed out a minute or two later when the steps along the floor stopped.
He locked the door behind him and looked over at his clothing on the sink counter.
Cyrus quickly got his shorts and underwear off and turned on the hot water, stepping inside after turning the knob to get the shower on.
The hot water was scalding against his skin, but it helped to wash away the tension and mess.
After a couple of minutes, he turned the water down to continue washing and wash his hair.
As he got out of the shower and turned the fan on so that steam would clear quickly, he looked in the foggy mirror.
Using a small towel, he cleared the mirror mostly and looked at his reflection, dripping, tanned skin slightly peachy with fluster.
“What are you doing?” he mumbled to himself. His gaze drifted down to see the two bite marks along his shoulder. Not incredibly lasting, but a soft indent of Gabe’s teeth and a circle of redness remained and likely would for another day.
Cyrus exhaled slowly as he thought about how good those bites had felt, how much better they’d feel if they were even harder.
Closing his eyes, he shook his head.
He dried off, got dressed, did his hair, and brushed his teeth. Then attempted to hide back in his room for a while.
Unfortunately, he could smell food coming from downstairs, and his stomach was growling with need.
He knew he’d most likely run into Gabe down there but it was a risk he was willing to take to get some food.
Cyrus headed downstairs, and when he walked into the kitchen, not only was Gabe in there, but he was the one cooking. Gabe stood at the stove, hair still damp and hanging over his forehead, flipping pancakes and sausage.
“I-I thought I could make everyone breakfast,” Gabe said quietly.
Cyrus nodded and headed over to grab a plate and a fork from the cabinet.
“There wasn’t any butter sitting out, so I took it out myself to…soften when I came down,” Gabe told him. “So it might not be soft enough.”
Cyrus still didn’t say anything. Uncertain why Gabe was telling him this. He grabbed a few pancakes and sausages and put them on his plate from the two big plates Gabe was putting the food on.
“So you can take the food I cook but not talk to me?” Gabe asked.
Cyrus could hear the double meaning behind the other man’s words, but he didn’t let Gabe see that.
“I’m hungry. You’re making food,” Cyrus replied as he buttered and syruped his pancakes.
Gabe took a breath
“So, is that what it was upstairs?” Gabe asked. “Were you horny, and I was there?”
Cyrus flushed, and he looked at Gabe, glaring daggers.
“You want me to answer that, Alpha? Or can I go eat?” Cyrus asked.
Gabe scoffed. “Go eat, asshole.”
Cyrus headed out of the kitchen, face hot and stomach tight.
The tension was difficult to ignore, especially since Cyrus was the leading cause.
As he left the kitchen, Lily was standing there with her arms crossed.
Cyrus eyed her.
“How much of that did you hear?” he asked.
“Enough to wonder why you’re such a dick this morning,” she said and narrowed her eyes.
Cyrus sighed. “Can I tell you later?” he asked.
Lily sighed in tandem.
“Fine, but Rachel and Evan are doing a claiming ritual later,” Lily told him. “Just letting you know.”
Cyrus nodded slowly. “Alright, I might be there,” he replied.
“You have to be there,” Lily reminded him.
“I know, I know.” Cyrus chuckled weakly. “Does Gabe know?”
“Yes, he told me,” Lily said. “They have to ask for his blessing, remember?”
Cyrus blinked. “Right…” he said slowly. “Well, talk to you later.”
With that, he walked away to the entertainment room to eat his food in peace; well, listening to a couple of play video games was peace. It was better than being stuck in the kitchen with Gabe and Lily.
There hadn’t been a claiming ritual in a couple of months.
The claiming ritual was like…engagement and marriage for werewolves.
It was a way to show everyone else that you belonged to each other and intended to for a very, very long time.
Most Weres in the outer circle didn’t do it and got married in the way any human would, but some Weres liked to do a claiming ritual as a precursor to a legal marriage.
It was said to be the most intimate thing two Weres could do, and having watched several dozen of them throughout his lifetime, Cyrus could say he agreed.
As second in command, he had to be there, but anyone else was there for moral support.
Anyone in the pack could come watch, but they could make that clear if there were anyone the couple didn’t want there.
The ritual wasn’t strict to two people. Cyrus had watched several polyamorous claiming rituals, and they were no different from the two-person ones, save for a bit longer and with some added creativity.
Cyrus sighed. At least there was one good thing happening.